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I went and did a nice grocery shop. I know my family brought a lot of food for me, but it was all dried goods. I bought a considerable amount of protein this time. We went to the wholesale seciton in the Loblaws and I got 96 chicken nuggets for about 9 bucks. Huzzah! We also split buying some veggie rolls. I bought juice and milk and other kinds of non-dried items. Should last me a few weeks. (Except milk and bread and stuff. Which I buy pretty much every week.) I may nip down to the market tomorrow or on Tuesday and buy some Orangina. The yummiest drink ever! Anyway, time to do some homework. ta ta.
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Last night I went to Brenna's and her, Jon, Kat and I had a lovely lovely din din! (Well, Kat missed the dindin bit, but ohwell.) I was actually ecstatic when we got there early and found extra place settings and homecooked food. My heart jumped for joy. I was all, YAY FOOD. For 'zerts we had ice cream! Brenna and Jon made fun of me because of my tragic inability to long divide. Then Brenna broke out the snacks. We Jon had bits and bites and then we I had chips... Then we had mini-quiches and Brenna and I set up 13 Dead End Drive, even though we both knew in our hearts, we couldn't play it. We also watched T3 which hurt Jon's head beause of the horrible physics.
I'm going to watch some tv and go to bed.
I'm going to watch some tv and go to bed.
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The problem with blogging is that when things get interesting, you don't get time to write about it," well said Gaiman.
Office Space is on tv! But in french. No fair. How come when we watch a french movie, it's in french with english subtitles, but when the french watch an english movie, it's dubbed??? WhatEVER!
Okay, I know that the writers want to be realistic and stuff, but I can't help but feel that The Office sort of just jumped the shark. I hope I'm wrong, because it's quite honestly my favourite and my life wouldn't be complete without the characters. (Unless Stanleys and Phylises grew on trees... Show me that tree.) But it just seems like Jim is being a dick. I honestly am so mad at him right now. I'm not so much mad at Karen, because it's not her fault, (though I'm not really a huge Karen fan). I'm just so mad at Jim, especially for him essentially blowing Pam off in the break room. I mean, that's their spot. Also, at the end of the episode in the parking lot, why did he say he was "seeing someone"? Because in the last episode Karen wasn't even sure if Jim liked her. Moving kind of fast isn't it? And if he was lying about seeing anyone, then that makes me more of a dick because he's lying to Pam now. Does he even really love this woman, because he sure as hell isn't acting like it! And if he is indeed seeing someone, and it's not Karen or Pam, then I want to slap him across the face. The nads he'd have to have in order to bring some other chick into the mix! GAH! P.S. Hugs for Pam because I love her. If I were her, I'd march right up to Jim and tell him how she feels. She loves him, Jim loves her. What's the problem!? The only loving relationship in this whole show is Phylis and BobVance (of BobVance Refridgeration). Phylis is my homegirl. I need a hug from Phylis. Ok, moving on...Breast pump? Creed? Perfect... Did he take a picture, or what was happening in that tiny little clip?And that poor fat guy. I was mad at Michael, even though I normally love Michael. GAAAH. Okay, everyone comment with what they think is going on. (For those of you who watch the office....) I'm sorry if my post is ranty, but I just had to let it out. That's how I feel, and it might change later after I mull it over a bit. Damn't JIM! I just got a whole slew of icons of you!Sigh. That's better. Now, I have to go play with my newly stickied sticky hand for a bit, do a wee bit of handwash and go to bed. I'll listen to Harry Potter, but I'm on book five, which, as everyone knows, is the angsty book, so that really won't help my anger. P.S. If someone (i.e. Alysson) want's to make their sticky hand sticky again, they have only to soak it in some soapy water and rub it down a bit... then leave it to dry. Poor Sue, she came home and found it floating in the bathroom sink. "That will haunt me forever." Then later, as I stood in her doorway, flinging the sticky hand in to change the pages of the her text book, she gave me a "I should have destroyed that sticky hand while I had the chance" face. lol... P.P.S. I haven't had a good post in a long time and it feels pretty damn good. *sigh*
Office Space is on tv! But in french. No fair. How come when we watch a french movie, it's in french with english subtitles, but when the french watch an english movie, it's dubbed??? WhatEVER!
Okay, I know that the writers want to be realistic and stuff, but I can't help but feel that The Office sort of just jumped the shark. I hope I'm wrong, because it's quite honestly my favourite and my life wouldn't be complete without the characters. (Unless Stanleys and Phylises grew on trees... Show me that tree.) But it just seems like Jim is being a dick. I honestly am so mad at him right now. I'm not so much mad at Karen, because it's not her fault, (though I'm not really a huge Karen fan). I'm just so mad at Jim, especially for him essentially blowing Pam off in the break room. I mean, that's their spot. Also, at the end of the episode in the parking lot, why did he say he was "seeing someone"? Because in the last episode Karen wasn't even sure if Jim liked her. Moving kind of fast isn't it? And if he was lying about seeing anyone, then that makes me more of a dick because he's lying to Pam now. Does he even really love this woman, because he sure as hell isn't acting like it! And if he is indeed seeing someone, and it's not Karen or Pam, then I want to slap him across the face. The nads he'd have to have in order to bring some other chick into the mix! GAH! P.S. Hugs for Pam because I love her. If I were her, I'd march right up to Jim and tell him how she feels. She loves him, Jim loves her. What's the problem!? The only loving relationship in this whole show is Phylis and BobVance (of BobVance Refridgeration). Phylis is my homegirl. I need a hug from Phylis. Ok, moving on...Breast pump? Creed? Perfect... Did he take a picture, or what was happening in that tiny little clip?And that poor fat guy. I was mad at Michael, even though I normally love Michael. GAAAH. Okay, everyone comment with what they think is going on. (For those of you who watch the office....) I'm sorry if my post is ranty, but I just had to let it out. That's how I feel, and it might change later after I mull it over a bit. Damn't JIM! I just got a whole slew of icons of you!Sigh. That's better. Now, I have to go play with my newly stickied sticky hand for a bit, do a wee bit of handwash and go to bed. I'll listen to Harry Potter, but I'm on book five, which, as everyone knows, is the angsty book, so that really won't help my anger. P.S. If someone (i.e. Alysson) want's to make their sticky hand sticky again, they have only to soak it in some soapy water and rub it down a bit... then leave it to dry. Poor Sue, she came home and found it floating in the bathroom sink. "That will haunt me forever." Then later, as I stood in her doorway, flinging the sticky hand in to change the pages of the her text book, she gave me a "I should have destroyed that sticky hand while I had the chance" face. lol... P.P.S. I haven't had a good post in a long time and it feels pretty damn good. *sigh*
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Write your own essay on why a particular group of your choice has reasons to be unhappy with its current situation. Your essay could be serious or humorous, as long as it has a thesis and makes effective use of the example technique. (Explaining through example.)
Word count: 5 382
Pages (dbl spaced): 5
P.S. We are allowed to use "I" and "We" etc when we are using a personal example.
Adults are a main source of unhappiness in children’s lives. Kids constantly complain that adults just don’t understand, they don’t take them seriously, and they don’t remember what it’s like to be a kid. For instance, most kids yearned for a pet. (After all, what Disney movie character does not have a creature companion?) If you have never experienced the war between child and parent induced by the want of a pet then consider the following scenario. Early in winter, a boy starts drafting his Christmas list. He has a copious amount of video games and comic books already. What he wants is a fussy, loyal, friend, preferably one who can play fetch. He looks at a book in the library, searching for the right breed of dog for him. The boy decides he wants the classic golden retriever, they are intelligent, playful, and in most movies they are excellent at some kind of sport. He presents his research to his parents, pleading for a nice big golden retriever. Christmas approaches and the child gets more and more excited, he even has a list of possible names ready. Christmas morning comes and there is a big box under the tree with rustling coming from inside it. The boy tears away the wrapping paper to find a startled guinea pig staring back at him. He grimaces and thanks his parents. His parents didn’t mean to disappoint their son, they just didn’t understand that he didn’t want any old pet, he wanted his big, cuddly friend. Later, when he asks for the dog again, his parents contest saying: “You can barely remember to clean your guinea pig’s cage! How will you take care of a dog?”
The parents don’t take the child seriously; they don’t remember what it was like to be a child.
Adults don’t hold a candle to the amount of problems posed by other children. Kids are cruel. They tease each other mercilessly, they form elite cliques and a social hierarchy, and they add drama to every situation. No child has great self-esteem in the first place, and public school is the place where it gets even lower. When she was in grade three, my mother moved from Toronto, where she lived and went to school with other European immigrant children, to southern Ontario. There she went to a country school and lived in a log cabin in the woods. She spoke poor English and her strong Hungarian genes stuck out amongst the very fair skinned English children with light hair. She was held back until her English improved and then she was put into advanced classes. The other children didn’t understand her cultural differences and only saw them as things to be scoffed at. While the other children munched away on their bologna and Wonderbread sandwiches, my mother ate liverwurst and green pepper on homemade potato bread. She felt ostracized at first because she was in the “slow learners” group and later because she was in the “nerd group”. She was experiencing the social hierarchy developed among different cliques in public schools. Any child can tell you who the popular crowd is, who the smart kids are, and which kids one shouldn’t be caught dead with. This “us against them” mentality adds much drama and complication to a child’s life. An origin of much grief comes from the drama generated by wondering how one can avoid the critical eyes of other children, reaching the status of one of the popular kids, or just flying below the radar.
The last focus of unhappiness is generated from children themselves, as individuals. Even as adults, we have pieces of ourselves that we dislike, but we generally have the ability to accept the things we cannot change. Children, on the other hand, dwell on small issues like the colour and style of their hair, the brand of running shoes they wear, and even what kind of school supplies they have. This somewhat stems from the expectations of other students, but it seems that the majority of these feelings come from within the child who only wants to fit in and be accepted. This yearning to be accepted is within the individual. As they think of how great life would be with less freckles and a pair of Lucky Star running shoes, they also have to attempt understanding the adult world around them. It’s not the fault of a parent that their child does not understand the reasoning behind a divorce or why one can’t consume a block of baking chocolate. It is within a child to understand in their own time the reason behind such issues. Understanding such complex topic is a misery all to it’s own. As a child I had a large golden retriever named Max. He was my mother’s dog when she was a teenager. He died when I was around ten and I could not accept or understand that my friend was gone forever. As an adult, I understand what death is and that it is a part of life that can’t be changed. As a child, struggling with the concept was a major source of frustration that I believe is less difficult as an adult. Children’s minds buckle under the weight of the adult world they live in.
The culmination of these aspects of childhood result in a child’s general unhappiness and frustration with the situation they are in. Of course, no action taken by adults can lessen the severity of childhood. The problems we face and struggle through as children shape our personalities as adults. A boy wouldn’t develop a strong sense of resolve without the battle with his parents to gain his beloved pet. My mother would not have her signature streak of independence without going through her childhood being a slice of homemade potato bread stuck in a white loaf. I would not have formed such a perception of acceptance without the loss of a childhood friend. Despite the qualities we gain through the hardships of childhood, the difficulties remain unappreciated to children.
Word count: 5 382
Pages (dbl spaced): 5
P.S. We are allowed to use "I" and "We" etc when we are using a personal example.
Why I Would Never Be A Child Again
Childhood is filled with reasons to be unhappy and frustrated with one’s situation. Everyone remembers his or her childhood differently. Children growing up in small towns will have different experiences than kids raised in the city. Little boys and girls in China will have a childhood that would be alien to boys and girls in Australia. However, there are some basic sources of a child’s unhappiness and frustration that one can not help but feel is universal. Growing up in the countryside of Southern Ontario and belonging to one of the only immigrant families certainly caused a lot of woe for me as a child. However, I was never exposed to the violence and mistrust of living in a big and crowded city. The city kid and I still shared three sources of unhappiness: adults, other children, and ourselves.Adults are a main source of unhappiness in children’s lives. Kids constantly complain that adults just don’t understand, they don’t take them seriously, and they don’t remember what it’s like to be a kid. For instance, most kids yearned for a pet. (After all, what Disney movie character does not have a creature companion?) If you have never experienced the war between child and parent induced by the want of a pet then consider the following scenario. Early in winter, a boy starts drafting his Christmas list. He has a copious amount of video games and comic books already. What he wants is a fussy, loyal, friend, preferably one who can play fetch. He looks at a book in the library, searching for the right breed of dog for him. The boy decides he wants the classic golden retriever, they are intelligent, playful, and in most movies they are excellent at some kind of sport. He presents his research to his parents, pleading for a nice big golden retriever. Christmas approaches and the child gets more and more excited, he even has a list of possible names ready. Christmas morning comes and there is a big box under the tree with rustling coming from inside it. The boy tears away the wrapping paper to find a startled guinea pig staring back at him. He grimaces and thanks his parents. His parents didn’t mean to disappoint their son, they just didn’t understand that he didn’t want any old pet, he wanted his big, cuddly friend. Later, when he asks for the dog again, his parents contest saying: “You can barely remember to clean your guinea pig’s cage! How will you take care of a dog?”
The parents don’t take the child seriously; they don’t remember what it was like to be a child.
Adults don’t hold a candle to the amount of problems posed by other children. Kids are cruel. They tease each other mercilessly, they form elite cliques and a social hierarchy, and they add drama to every situation. No child has great self-esteem in the first place, and public school is the place where it gets even lower. When she was in grade three, my mother moved from Toronto, where she lived and went to school with other European immigrant children, to southern Ontario. There she went to a country school and lived in a log cabin in the woods. She spoke poor English and her strong Hungarian genes stuck out amongst the very fair skinned English children with light hair. She was held back until her English improved and then she was put into advanced classes. The other children didn’t understand her cultural differences and only saw them as things to be scoffed at. While the other children munched away on their bologna and Wonderbread sandwiches, my mother ate liverwurst and green pepper on homemade potato bread. She felt ostracized at first because she was in the “slow learners” group and later because she was in the “nerd group”. She was experiencing the social hierarchy developed among different cliques in public schools. Any child can tell you who the popular crowd is, who the smart kids are, and which kids one shouldn’t be caught dead with. This “us against them” mentality adds much drama and complication to a child’s life. An origin of much grief comes from the drama generated by wondering how one can avoid the critical eyes of other children, reaching the status of one of the popular kids, or just flying below the radar.
The last focus of unhappiness is generated from children themselves, as individuals. Even as adults, we have pieces of ourselves that we dislike, but we generally have the ability to accept the things we cannot change. Children, on the other hand, dwell on small issues like the colour and style of their hair, the brand of running shoes they wear, and even what kind of school supplies they have. This somewhat stems from the expectations of other students, but it seems that the majority of these feelings come from within the child who only wants to fit in and be accepted. This yearning to be accepted is within the individual. As they think of how great life would be with less freckles and a pair of Lucky Star running shoes, they also have to attempt understanding the adult world around them. It’s not the fault of a parent that their child does not understand the reasoning behind a divorce or why one can’t consume a block of baking chocolate. It is within a child to understand in their own time the reason behind such issues. Understanding such complex topic is a misery all to it’s own. As a child I had a large golden retriever named Max. He was my mother’s dog when she was a teenager. He died when I was around ten and I could not accept or understand that my friend was gone forever. As an adult, I understand what death is and that it is a part of life that can’t be changed. As a child, struggling with the concept was a major source of frustration that I believe is less difficult as an adult. Children’s minds buckle under the weight of the adult world they live in.
The culmination of these aspects of childhood result in a child’s general unhappiness and frustration with the situation they are in. Of course, no action taken by adults can lessen the severity of childhood. The problems we face and struggle through as children shape our personalities as adults. A boy wouldn’t develop a strong sense of resolve without the battle with his parents to gain his beloved pet. My mother would not have her signature streak of independence without going through her childhood being a slice of homemade potato bread stuck in a white loaf. I would not have formed such a perception of acceptance without the loss of a childhood friend. Despite the qualities we gain through the hardships of childhood, the difficulties remain unappreciated to children.
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X MAZ LisT '06
- Duo Student Membership to the Canadian Museum of Civ/War
- New earbud headphones
- RAM upgrade
- Barbie Horse Adventures: Mystery Ride PC (shut up -_-)
- iTunes Music Card
New oil paintsNew paintbrush- Michael's giftcard so I can get new oil paints and new paintbrush
- Spiral notebooks, pens, pencils, etc
- Another year of lj membership with 100 userpics (doesn't expire until August, but it can't hurt to pay for another year now)
- George Forman grill (small one)
- TS2 Seasons Expansion (pending release date)
- The Office DVD (Seasons 1 & 2... or just 1 or 2)
- A new, high quality umbrella. (Really, a super good one, because I've gone through two cheap, crappy ones already.)
- This Jon Stewart tee
- Gift card for Montana's
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Ok. So Sue and I wandered in the rain to the Rideau Centre so I could investigate the sims 2 pets situation. (You know you have a good roommate when...) We discovered that it doesn't ship in Canada until tomorrow! He told me that it should be in by tomorrow afternoon. It kind of works out better that way because I have to write an essay and study tonight. Plus, I am finished at 2:30 tomorrow, so I can go pick it up. I don't have to be in class on Thursday until 1pm so I can stay up late playing it too. Tomorrow is the Ice Cream Social too though. But, as my hot r.a. told me, there's time for both. Sue and I think he's gayer than the day is long, but he is nice to look at and really friendly. *high five*
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Alrighty. I have to finish this essay. It's about half way done, but it's sooo boring. I also have to study for my Latin quiz tomorrow. I wish I could take the pussy way out and drop it. I just dont want to lost the credit. Everyone just drops stuff if it's too hard or too challenging. I wish people could just finish what they started. You know, like soldier through it. I don't really know how this prof marks, but she doesn't seem too hard. I think I'm doing ok though. As long as she doesn't get bored or offended I'm okay.
Effing Maxis. I want the game in Effing Canada now!
EDIT: I should also add that I'm moving all my music files to my external harddrive so I wont be able to listen to iTunes for another 197 minutes. (It's already taken hours... there's a lot of music...) Anyway, it's going to suck trying to put all my music on iTunes again. *sigh* Oh well, I'll have more precious space....
Effing Maxis. I want the game in Effing Canada now!
EDIT: I should also add that I'm moving all my music files to my external harddrive so I wont be able to listen to iTunes for another 197 minutes. (It's already taken hours... there's a lot of music...) Anyway, it's going to suck trying to put all my music on iTunes again. *sigh* Oh well, I'll have more precious space....
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Okay, so I had a pretty crazy birthday weekend. I really enjoyed myself for the most part. Friday night was a crazy party. And then the next morning my fam came and we went to Ikea and it was good. I got a bedside table, a dresser, a bookshelf, an office chair and a tv stand thing. We went to Rideau on Saturday and I got a new winter coat, hat, boots, gloves, and mittens.
I'm going to see Dr. Sue Johanson tomorrow night! Goodness gratious I love her. I read her book last week and I'm hoping she does a signing. I have a few questions, but because of the papers I did in Sexual Anthropology, I know some stuff... But mostly scientific stuff. Anyway, if anyone has any questions they think I should ask, post them here and I'll submit them and if she answers them, I'll tell you what she said! It'll be awesome. I've got some more studying to do, I've got two midterms on Thursday, but I'm really not too afraid. I know I've got a good grasp on them.
P.S. iTunes users! Don't forget to effing subscribe!
I'm going to see Dr. Sue Johanson tomorrow night! Goodness gratious I love her. I read her book last week and I'm hoping she does a signing. I have a few questions, but because of the papers I did in Sexual Anthropology, I know some stuff... But mostly scientific stuff. Anyway, if anyone has any questions they think I should ask, post them here and I'll submit them and if she answers them, I'll tell you what she said! It'll be awesome. I've got some more studying to do, I've got two midterms on Thursday, but I'm really not too afraid. I know I've got a good grasp on them.
P.S. iTunes users! Don't forget to effing subscribe!
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Click the picture for video!
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Okay,
Firstly, I feel horrible about neglecting this journal. It's very saddd. This is my more formal journal, my regular journal is at livejournal. In any case, it's exclusive and friends only. The juicier stuff goes there. Here I copy posts that aren't as private and most video/audio/picture posts. I will make a note of it to keep it updated. I have a video post that is being uploaded right now, and an audiopost that is reaaady. However, you will have to download it fast because it's at yousendit, and unless the link is kept alive, it will perish! If I can find somewhere to permanently host those kinds of files, I'll switch, but for now... oh well.
Firstly, I feel horrible about neglecting this journal. It's very saddd. This is my more formal journal, my regular journal is at livejournal. In any case, it's exclusive and friends only. The juicier stuff goes there. Here I copy posts that aren't as private and most video/audio/picture posts. I will make a note of it to keep it updated. I have a video post that is being uploaded right now, and an audiopost that is reaaady. However, you will have to download it fast because it's at yousendit, and unless the link is kept alive, it will perish! If I can find somewhere to permanently host those kinds of files, I'll switch, but for now... oh well.
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I have a very weird feeling right now. I just took a break from my twelve year schoolworkathon to have a snack and update my blogs. I'll keep going after I'm done writing this.
I have a half day tomorrow because my 4th period was cancelled. To be quite honest, I think that lot's of people are going to be taking half days tomorrow due to the Fashion Show buyout that I'm totally NOT going to. My halfday is legitimate, and for that I'm proud. I also won't have to spend money at lunch cause I'm going home at 11. (Man, that's not even a half day.) Then I'm going to come home and hammer out to ISU's which is going to be potentially damaging to my health.
One thing that is completely damaging to my health is never having a day off. I've done this 7 days a week gig for a while now and my mind is so exhausted. My brain keeps looking for a spacer between all the work, but there isn't one, and as a result, it never wants to concentrate on work. (Ergo, I'm writing this post right now.) I guess I'm just having trouble focusing, thought not for lack of motivation. My entire future hangs on my academic performance in the next month. That may sound like a gross exageration, but it really isn't. The percentage weight of these enormous projects on my final are frightening in comparison to the worth of other projects. So essentially, the time when I need to focus on schoolwork the most is when: the warm weather comes, I get a job, my internet wrecks.... Man, I just want to sit on my ass and watch tv or go to the beach for a day. I'm definetely beaching it up this summer, despite my 40hr work week. I will be partying and beachbumming at every chance because my youth is running away from me, and I'm too old to catch up. That's creeping me out, majorly. I feel excited for my life to begin and my career to start and my independence to blossom, but at the same time, I think of how fast 0-18 has gone and in the same span of time I'll be in my mid-thirties... (I might as well be geriatric... Sorry to all the oldies, but man, I don't want to be old.)
I should also add that at random intervals my life flashes before my eyes. It's very odd. My life has been very weird, but good. I'm glad that everything has happened the way it has, but there are a few encounters that I wish I could have left out, for my psychological soundness...
Wow, if I put this much effort into my essay, I'll be done in ten minutes. WOOO.
I have a half day tomorrow because my 4th period was cancelled. To be quite honest, I think that lot's of people are going to be taking half days tomorrow due to the Fashion Show buyout that I'm totally NOT going to. My halfday is legitimate, and for that I'm proud. I also won't have to spend money at lunch cause I'm going home at 11. (Man, that's not even a half day.) Then I'm going to come home and hammer out to ISU's which is going to be potentially damaging to my health.
One thing that is completely damaging to my health is never having a day off. I've done this 7 days a week gig for a while now and my mind is so exhausted. My brain keeps looking for a spacer between all the work, but there isn't one, and as a result, it never wants to concentrate on work. (Ergo, I'm writing this post right now.) I guess I'm just having trouble focusing, thought not for lack of motivation. My entire future hangs on my academic performance in the next month. That may sound like a gross exageration, but it really isn't. The percentage weight of these enormous projects on my final are frightening in comparison to the worth of other projects. So essentially, the time when I need to focus on schoolwork the most is when: the warm weather comes, I get a job, my internet wrecks.... Man, I just want to sit on my ass and watch tv or go to the beach for a day. I'm definetely beaching it up this summer, despite my 40hr work week. I will be partying and beachbumming at every chance because my youth is running away from me, and I'm too old to catch up. That's creeping me out, majorly. I feel excited for my life to begin and my career to start and my independence to blossom, but at the same time, I think of how fast 0-18 has gone and in the same span of time I'll be in my mid-thirties... (I might as well be geriatric... Sorry to all the oldies, but man, I don't want to be old.)
I should also add that at random intervals my life flashes before my eyes. It's very odd. My life has been very weird, but good. I'm glad that everything has happened the way it has, but there are a few encounters that I wish I could have left out, for my psychological soundness...
Wow, if I put this much effort into my essay, I'll be done in ten minutes. WOOO.
My grandfather built a house for my grandma. The house is large and tastefully decorated. He wanted the house to be lovely for Her to grow old in because he assumed that She would live longer than he would. The house used to be beautiful and big and full, and now it is cold, enormous and empty because he lives in it all alone.
The house always smelled like fresh bread or muffins and in the morning, you wanted to wake up early to catch the bacon and biscuits. The smell of bacon was an alarm clock unto itself. There was always something in the oven, on the stove, or cooling in the fridge. Fresh lavender and basil from the gardens was hidden in all the rooms that seemed to make the house more like a benevolent deity than a structure of mortar and stone and wood. Now the house smells like cleansing solution and air conditioning. The windows never get opened anymore, and this became clearly evident when grandfather’s burnt eggs splattered against the ceiling. There are no more pleasant or awakening smells.
The gardens around the house provided fresh fruit and vegetables. There were always raspberries to be picked, sweet peas to be shucked, or potatoes to be peeled. In the non-edible gardens different flowers and trees and shrubs were blooming and growing at different seasons. Even in the early spring and late fall, something seemed to be just emerging for you to see. At the end of the growing cycle, the herbs were dried, the flowers were pressed between the pages of a large volume, and the fruit turned into preserves. Now a professional gardener does rounds of watering, picking, and storing. The gardener doesn’t make paprika from dried paprika peppers. He does not leave raspberries for us to pick, or sweet peas for us to shuck.
The house used to be filled with the sound of cooking shows, or Her voice gibbering in Hungarian. She would speak to the dogs and squirrels outside, and often to the plants in her greenhouse, or on the window ledge of the kitchen. Now all that you can hear in the house are echoes- of footsteps and doors closing and car alarms beeping and Pavarotti’s pretentious tenor blasting at full volume. You cannot hear your own thoughts, and neither can the plants, because a large Italian bellows about lost love.
The house if for sale now, and I hope that whoever moves in can make bacon and bread. I hope they know how to dry herbs to make spices. I hope they know what flowers bloom in what season and I hope they know that wide-open windows make the best air conditioning. I hope the house once again becomes a benevolent deity that welcomes and warms another little girl.
The house always smelled like fresh bread or muffins and in the morning, you wanted to wake up early to catch the bacon and biscuits. The smell of bacon was an alarm clock unto itself. There was always something in the oven, on the stove, or cooling in the fridge. Fresh lavender and basil from the gardens was hidden in all the rooms that seemed to make the house more like a benevolent deity than a structure of mortar and stone and wood. Now the house smells like cleansing solution and air conditioning. The windows never get opened anymore, and this became clearly evident when grandfather’s burnt eggs splattered against the ceiling. There are no more pleasant or awakening smells.
The gardens around the house provided fresh fruit and vegetables. There were always raspberries to be picked, sweet peas to be shucked, or potatoes to be peeled. In the non-edible gardens different flowers and trees and shrubs were blooming and growing at different seasons. Even in the early spring and late fall, something seemed to be just emerging for you to see. At the end of the growing cycle, the herbs were dried, the flowers were pressed between the pages of a large volume, and the fruit turned into preserves. Now a professional gardener does rounds of watering, picking, and storing. The gardener doesn’t make paprika from dried paprika peppers. He does not leave raspberries for us to pick, or sweet peas for us to shuck.
The house used to be filled with the sound of cooking shows, or Her voice gibbering in Hungarian. She would speak to the dogs and squirrels outside, and often to the plants in her greenhouse, or on the window ledge of the kitchen. Now all that you can hear in the house are echoes- of footsteps and doors closing and car alarms beeping and Pavarotti’s pretentious tenor blasting at full volume. You cannot hear your own thoughts, and neither can the plants, because a large Italian bellows about lost love.
The house if for sale now, and I hope that whoever moves in can make bacon and bread. I hope they know how to dry herbs to make spices. I hope they know what flowers bloom in what season and I hope they know that wide-open windows make the best air conditioning. I hope the house once again becomes a benevolent deity that welcomes and warms another little girl.
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BOOK LIST: Canadian History
LOOK FOR PRIMARY SOURCES
Canada Decade by Decade (older, book, rich in primary sources)
Giant books about certain year
Canadian History for Dummies, 2nd Edition
Will Ferguson
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: June 2005
Dimensions : 544 Pages, 7.42 x 9.27 x 1.05 in
ISBN: 0470836563 · Published By: Wiley
Not All of Us Were Brave
Stanley Scislowski
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: November 1997
Dimensions : 0 Pages, 6 x 9 x 0 in
ISBN: 1550022989
The Oxford Companion to Canadian History
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: March 2006
Dimensions : 800 Pages, 8 x 10 in
ISBN: 0195424387 · Published By: Oxford University Press
A Country Nourished on Self-Doubt: Documents in Post-Confederation Canadian History
Thomas Thorner
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: November 2005
Dimensions : 290 Pages, 6.5 x 9 IN
ISBN: 1551115484 · Published By: Broadview Press
LOOK FOR PRIMARY SOURCES
Canada Decade by Decade (older, book, rich in primary sources)
Giant books about certain year
Canadian History for Dummies, 2nd Edition
Will Ferguson
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: June 2005
Dimensions : 544 Pages, 7.42 x 9.27 x 1.05 in
ISBN: 0470836563 · Published By: Wiley
Not All of Us Were Brave
Stanley Scislowski
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: November 1997
Dimensions : 0 Pages, 6 x 9 x 0 in
ISBN: 1550022989
The Oxford Companion to Canadian History
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: March 2006
Dimensions : 800 Pages, 8 x 10 in
ISBN: 0195424387 · Published By: Oxford University Press
A Country Nourished on Self-Doubt: Documents in Post-Confederation Canadian History
Thomas Thorner
Format: Trade Paperback · Published: November 2005
Dimensions : 290 Pages, 6.5 x 9 IN
ISBN: 1551115484 · Published By: Broadview Press
Comments: (0)
Well,
I start work this weekend. How awful/great. I'm happy that I've got a job that pays well, is perfectly located and has a nice boss, but I feel some what reserved about working again. I've had nothing but bad experiences in professional environments. Oh well, it's just cashiering. Scan. Take moolah. Give change. DING. Scan. Take moolah. Give change. DING. Oooh. I should also add that I'm most likely going to pick up 8 hour shifts, not 6 hours, which sucks because then my early morning/free afternoon idea is down the drain.
Well, I'm off to do stuff.
I start work this weekend. How awful/great. I'm happy that I've got a job that pays well, is perfectly located and has a nice boss, but I feel some what reserved about working again. I've had nothing but bad experiences in professional environments. Oh well, it's just cashiering. Scan. Take moolah. Give change. DING. Scan. Take moolah. Give change. DING. Oooh. I should also add that I'm most likely going to pick up 8 hour shifts, not 6 hours, which sucks because then my early morning/free afternoon idea is down the drain.
Well, I'm off to do stuff.
Comments: (0)
What am I to you? An object?
Well, I'm downright fed up with most of the male half of our species (except those which are, for the most part, my intellectual equals or superiors). I know that sounds a little pretentious, but only because for the past year or so, most guys around here seem to think that breasts and blonde hair make you an easy target, and I'm fed up with it! I'm a person too! People with breasts are PEOPLE! Every single guy I've started to be friends with hits this point in our "relationship", no matter how platonic it is, where he wants in my pants. I understand that every guy has wants, needs, urges even, but really! They turn into such dicks! A few of my guy friends recently have been major assholes and it just makes me ANGRY! (*like the hulk!) There only three men in this world that I 100% trust with my heart... Those men are: my daddy, Leonard Cohen, and Robert Rodriguez (recently divorced!) Sometimes I'm thinking about going full blown lesbo just to get rid of complications, but then I think to myself... If I want to become a lesbian just to DEAL with my problems, maybe I should actually just face them. I'm going to have to interact with the nasty version of men eventually, so I might as well get used to it, even though I know that they will never truly respect me, care about me, or even want to know what my favourite colour is. It's frustrating to think that any man will ever TRULY respect me. How can they respect someone they believe is not as smart or as strong as them? How can they respect someone that they see as an object- a toy, good for nothing but sex or being arm candy or a beer deliverer? They probably won't! That's the answer.
Now, I'm not saying all men are like this, but I'm starting to think that because abuot 95% of the men I know are like that!
Sigh> I need sleep.
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my thighs are so bruised and purple i'm tempted to post a picture.
| Amanda's bits are best described as her "sheltered cathedral". |
Here are some posts that for some reason (ahem, laziness) didn't get updated on blogger, just livejournal. Sorrry!
"Cartier then captured Donnacona, his two sons, three other leaders, and four children who had been living with the French for some time. With ten captives, Cartier left for France, despite the pleading of grieving relatives who followed in canoes, clutching beaver pelts that they offered as ransom for the hostages. None of the captured St. Lawrence Iroquois people ever saw Canada again; they all perished in France."
(Defining Canada- Nick Brune, pg 80-81)
My heart has just been broken! That is so upsetting and angering!
"The Man. Oh, you don't know The Man? The Man's everywhere: in the White House, down the hall, Miss Mullins; she's The Man! And The Man ruined the ozone, and he's burning down the Amazon and he kidnapped Shamu and put her in a chlorine tank! Okay! And there used to be a way to stick it to The Man, it was called rock 'n roll. But guess what? Oh no! The Man had to ruin that too with a little thing called MTV! So don't waste your time trying to make anything cool or pure or awesome 'cause The Man's just gonna call you a fat washed up loser and crush your soul. So do yourself a favor and just give up!"
marry me jack black
Just now, on The Ellen Degeneres show in a segment called "Best Photos Ever", a picture of Kate Vader and her giant bunny was featured. And Ellen Degeneres said "Picton, Ontario"... I guess we know what the headline will be.
Oh goD! The phone just rang!
How did they know about the bondage?
Today's walk made up for yesterday's walk. It was sunny, and birds were chirping (except the dead one on the side of the road), and Sandy didn't drag me around. He's snoring on the floor right now. His cheek flaps remind me of cartoons when someone is snoring in a tent. I met a neighbour. I thought she was a man at first, and I feel really bad about that. No worries though, she had a really girly name when I met her, so yeah...
Well, my fingers are numb and I need some tea desperately. Lot's of bikers around today. So strange. Need to take some pictures. Tra lalala.
[Tuesday, April 18th 2006]
I almost killed my dog today. We just went for our evening walk, which we have done practically everyday for a month now, and every step was a fight. He almost dragged me the whole way. We had to turn back early because my hands were almost raw from the lead. (He hasn't done this once in a month.) He barked at other dogs, and normally they bark at him but he ignores them. He tried to chase every car that passed us, pouring every ounce of muscle into his harness. (He has a harness, not a collar, because he'd strangle himself with anything else.) To add insult to injury, the air was thick with these little black bugs and I could barely take in a breath without spitting out those damn bugs. They tried to get in my nose, my ears, my eyes.. It was disgusting. In addition to Sandy being completely psycho and bugs trying to infiltrate my body, a small robin's egg that I had found in perfect condition on the side of the road coming back broke open in my pocket when Sandy tried to haul me into the path of a moving vehicle, (he attempted several times). The yoke went everywhere. It was disgusting. Luckily, I was pretty close to home, but did that ever make me mad, (more mad I guess). As I stooped to pick up the egg through the cloud of black flies and Sandy making my hands bleed, I thought, aw, this egg makes the nasty trip worthwhile. Little did I know, it was just another ploy to ruin my walk. GAH!
I'm glad I could have that little rant. I'm going to scream now.
P.S. I think I'm going through menopause.
P.S.S. Have you ever noticed that you forget about all the great things in your life when the only thing lacking is the only thing you have ever wanted? Does that makes sense? No probably not. Let's just say, I can get anything besides the one thing I want, and it sucks. If I had it right now, I probably wouldn't want it as much, but even with that realization, I can't let go of the wanting. POO ON YOU heart. poo on you...
Friday, April 21st 2006]
What does pure of heart mean?Thursday, April 20th 2006]
I hate Jaques Cartier! He is a bastard! I wish I could bring him back to life just to berate him!"Cartier then captured Donnacona, his two sons, three other leaders, and four children who had been living with the French for some time. With ten captives, Cartier left for France, despite the pleading of grieving relatives who followed in canoes, clutching beaver pelts that they offered as ransom for the hostages. None of the captured St. Lawrence Iroquois people ever saw Canada again; they all perished in France."
(Defining Canada- Nick Brune, pg 80-81)
My heart has just been broken! That is so upsetting and angering!
marry me jack black
Oh goD! The phone just rang!
| Wednesday, April 19th 2006] | |
| Okay, seriously! How does Google know what's going on in my life! I'm very frightened! Even if I've never mentioned it on the computer, in an email, search, lj, chat, ANYTHING, Google knows and will advertise to me! How strange and wacko! I can't handle it! GOOGLE IS BIG BROTHA!!!! OH GOD!@!!!! Maybe I shouldn't have had celery and canned pineapple for dinner. I need sleep, and sex, and fun... So badly. Amanda CRAZY GOOGLE VOODOO!!!  Sex is a very important part of tribal lifestyle in West Africa. This picture shows a tribal dance depicting various aspects of their sexual lifestyle, ranging from the erotic to the medical. (They formally advocate the use of condoms, although in actual practice, it's unclear how much people actually do use them.) The penis shown here is not real; it's a wooden replica used for demonstration purposes only. Click here for more information on West African culture. [http://www.danheller.com/images/Africa/T | |
Wednesday, April 19th 2006]
Hm?  | You scored as Old School Punk. Old School Punk as a genre formed simultaneously on both sides of the pond with Detroit and New York giving birth to bands like The Stooges, Ramones, and the MC5 while, on the British side punk bands popped up with such regularity and mayfly-esque lifespans that there doesn't exist a definitive audio record of most of them. Although some, such as the Sex Pistols, have made such an impression on popular culture that there have been movies about them.
Which musical counterculture do you fit in with? created with QuizFarm.com |
How did they know about the bondage?
[Wednesday, April 19th 2006]
I feel like dancing! Gonna dance the night away!Today's walk made up for yesterday's walk. It was sunny, and birds were chirping (except the dead one on the side of the road), and Sandy didn't drag me around. He's snoring on the floor right now. His cheek flaps remind me of cartoons when someone is snoring in a tent. I met a neighbour. I thought she was a man at first, and I feel really bad about that. No worries though, she had a really girly name when I met her, so yeah...
Well, my fingers are numb and I need some tea desperately. Lot's of bikers around today. So strange. Need to take some pictures. Tra lalala.
I'm glad I could have that little rant. I'm going to scream now.
P.S. I think I'm going through menopause.
P.S.S. Have you ever noticed that you forget about all the great things in your life when the only thing lacking is the only thing you have ever wanted? Does that makes sense? No probably not. Let's just say, I can get anything besides the one thing I want, and it sucks. If I had it right now, I probably wouldn't want it as much, but even with that realization, I can't let go of the wanting. POO ON YOU heart. poo on you...
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This morning I woke up and heard on the radio that there was going to be a thunderstorm around noon. I was angry because that meant I wouldn't be able to go for a walk in the afternoon. So I just woke up and went in the morning. I had a baaad headache, but the walk seemed to have gotten rid of it. Coincidentally, it didn't rain until darkness fell. Just another reason to not trust a meteorologist. Then I started packing for Nana's and eventually Ottawa. I'm gutting my room essentially. Taking everything off the walls, putting all my stuff in boxes. Only my clothes and furniture is staying in there. I have a box marked "Creepy sculptures". I'm very excited to decorate my dorm room. I have some really great pieces that will add a sense of, hm, me to the place. I should go on Antique's Roadshow with some of the suff. I'm sure it's worth thousands! Speaking of which, my family is having a big yardsale and we each get our own table/section deal. All the money I get from selling my stuff I'm keeping for school, so I'll probably sell a lot of stuff I don't need. If you have items you wish to donate to the "feed Amanda" association, they can go to the yardsale. WOo. Or, just send me money. Or a none perishable food item. Or buy something from the yardsale and then give it back to me to resell. Ha. I think I'm going to have a sign that says: "Sorry if you gave this to me as a gift." That would be no good at all. Anyways, so after I spent most of the day packing, Annie and I decorated eggs. A few of them cracked, but it just added a cool grunge-egg effect. Here are some of our eggy creations:
Poor unsuspecting eggies. All white, boring, and hard-boiled.
There are the eggies in their colourful little pods. Reminds me of The Matrix. Just remember, that's what we truly look like right now.
Look at all the little bubbles coming off this egg. It looks a bit like cellulite, but have no fear. We have very fit eggs.
Annie's creepy egg person.
"Is this the train to Spadina?" "No, Finch. Can't you see we're all coloured." (Don't get mad. It's funny.)
Egg orgies- no legislation against them can stand!
Take that Martha Stewart. I got her mag today, learned a lot of neat stuff about bulbs.
Anyways, that's all the pictures I have for now, egg-wise.
We also used crayons to add some design factor and those eggs turned out nicely, but I wish we could have decorated more eggs. I love decorating them. I do run out of ideas after a while though. We used margarita glasses because the bottom area of the glasses were perfect for holding an egg. Also, while cleaning out her own room, Annie found a ton of my clothes. I was ecstatic! I have a lot of laundry to do tomorrow. Oh! And today, while cleaning out my desk, I found some papers from grade nine and before. Written diaries about boys and popularity and being fat. It was interesting to read how I tricked myself into thinking things by putting them in my diary. ("Oo, I think I may be falling for him." Come on girl, you're obsessed.) I just want to tell the girl writing the diaries that she's being silly and to just leave those boys alone. Especially one's who deal coke. I was so dumb, but I'm sure that in five years, I'll read back in my lj (should they still exist) and bitch about how dumb I was. Hell, I can look back only a few entires ago and think about how stupid I was/is/will be. I also found these little stories that I would start, and then never finish. I really wanted to grow up to be a writer. That never happened I guess. They were so stupid, but the writing was okay. I guess I had the technical writing ability, but not the time to think out a plot and organization, etc. I'm going to put them away in storage so I can look back on them in a few decades and have a good laugh with my partner (should I have one) who is old, and we will both laugh so hard we fart, but won't know it. (Old people do that constantly, or at least in my experience.)
Gah, I have a long weekend ahead of me. Packing, cleaning, doing laundry, wall-patching, Easter dinner at Nana's (have to face unfathomable amounts of chocolate that I can't eat). I'll just bring a book or some celery. "Take that Annie! I have celery!" Annie hates celery because of the noise it makes. She cringes because she associates the crunch with braces pain. Too bad for her, celery has lately become my snack of choice. Sometimes with peanut butter if I'm really craving extra protein. I better get to sleep. I had no idea what time it was. I feel a bit ashamed because I've been trying to keep to a decent sleep schedule. I guess that's not happening tonight/this morning, which is poopy. Oh well, it's not the end of the world.
Poor unsuspecting eggies. All white, boring, and hard-boiled.
There are the eggies in their colourful little pods. Reminds me of The Matrix. Just remember, that's what we truly look like right now.
Look at all the little bubbles coming off this egg. It looks a bit like cellulite, but have no fear. We have very fit eggs.
Annie's creepy egg person.
"Is this the train to Spadina?" "No, Finch. Can't you see we're all coloured." (Don't get mad. It's funny.)
Egg orgies- no legislation against them can stand!
Take that Martha Stewart. I got her mag today, learned a lot of neat stuff about bulbs.
Anyways, that's all the pictures I have for now, egg-wise.
We also used crayons to add some design factor and those eggs turned out nicely, but I wish we could have decorated more eggs. I love decorating them. I do run out of ideas after a while though. We used margarita glasses because the bottom area of the glasses were perfect for holding an egg. Also, while cleaning out her own room, Annie found a ton of my clothes. I was ecstatic! I have a lot of laundry to do tomorrow. Oh! And today, while cleaning out my desk, I found some papers from grade nine and before. Written diaries about boys and popularity and being fat. It was interesting to read how I tricked myself into thinking things by putting them in my diary. ("Oo, I think I may be falling for him." Come on girl, you're obsessed.) I just want to tell the girl writing the diaries that she's being silly and to just leave those boys alone. Especially one's who deal coke. I was so dumb, but I'm sure that in five years, I'll read back in my lj (should they still exist) and bitch about how dumb I was. Hell, I can look back only a few entires ago and think about how stupid I was/is/will be. I also found these little stories that I would start, and then never finish. I really wanted to grow up to be a writer. That never happened I guess. They were so stupid, but the writing was okay. I guess I had the technical writing ability, but not the time to think out a plot and organization, etc. I'm going to put them away in storage so I can look back on them in a few decades and have a good laugh with my partner (should I have one) who is old, and we will both laugh so hard we fart, but won't know it. (Old people do that constantly, or at least in my experience.)
Gah, I have a long weekend ahead of me. Packing, cleaning, doing laundry, wall-patching, Easter dinner at Nana's (have to face unfathomable amounts of chocolate that I can't eat). I'll just bring a book or some celery. "Take that Annie! I have celery!" Annie hates celery because of the noise it makes. She cringes because she associates the crunch with braces pain. Too bad for her, celery has lately become my snack of choice. Sometimes with peanut butter if I'm really craving extra protein. I better get to sleep. I had no idea what time it was. I feel a bit ashamed because I've been trying to keep to a decent sleep schedule. I guess that's not happening tonight/this morning, which is poopy. Oh well, it's not the end of the world.
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Alright, so I wrote my history test today. It wasn't as bad as I thought. I was freaking out a little beforehand, but now I see that I was just being over critical of my intelligence. (I spent my third period spare watching Flying Circus w. a cute guy btw.) Anyway, I stayed a few minutes late to finish up the test and missed my bus, so I got my Nana to pick me up. Then I napped at her house. I'm kind of angry because I've just gone on a super strict diet that doesn't include ice cream or Girl Guide Cookies.
I went for a walk with Sandy today. We jogged a bit, but I'm so out of shape, that speed walking was my best bet. Whenever I feel a bit of pain or discomfort, I know that I'm getting healthier. Weird, but true I think. I know that I seem like I'm a bit obsessed about this whole exercise/eat healthy thing, but it's the only way that I can be healthy.
Gah, so I came in and had a shower and made a mental note to wear bug spray next time. And I always forget the sports bra, so I'm speedwalking along, bouncing at the speed of breast, and I curse the day my breasts grew. (I made an lj entry about it. Had pictures.)
Also, I'm packing this weekend. Sorting through my immeasurable amount of crap. What goes with me? What goes to storage? What goes to Annie? What do I still need to buy? What goes in the trash? I'm so confused by it all, looking at the next little while on my calendar, trying to fit stuff in. I'm afriad of stuff going sour, but I guess that's life man. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. When I saw I'm afraid of stuff going sour, I guess I just mean, I'm afraid of everything going sour- life in general. I see my life as a chain reaction, events caused by events, caused by events, caused by events (determinism if you will). So sometimes in my mind, I get a thought process like this:
Don't study enough -> Fail test -> Low average -> university acceptance retracted -> don't go to uni -> trapped in the County ->become bum -> waste life -> die a nothing
I can't help it, that's just the way I think. So that's why I study hardy. lol. Well, I'm sleepy and Marie just said she was moving back to the County at the end of April and I'm ecstatic because she is a wonderful gal whom I adddorrre!
I've been so good, not eating any of it. I want to soo bad, it's like heroin, (chocolate). Oh! My dad and I went grocery shopping, and he buys all this really awesome stuff, that is ridiculously bad for me, like TWO TUBS of ice cream! My favourite kinds too. But I looked at the nutritional label, and it said if I have 125ml, it's only 150 calories. Which is a lot, but I can cut something else out if I'm desperate. And it doesn't have much fat either, like, 5g I think. Anyways, so I carefully measure it and it this tiny little bit of ice cream and savour every bloody drop. I guess it makes up for my three missed yogurts today (which add up to that tiny bit of icecream). I was still within my calorie limit too. I can't believe that I've become a calorie counter, but I just imagine what it'll be like to walk into a store and be able to try on whatever I want and not worry about sizing.
I went for a walk with Sandy today. We jogged a bit, but I'm so out of shape, that speed walking was my best bet. Whenever I feel a bit of pain or discomfort, I know that I'm getting healthier. Weird, but true I think. I know that I seem like I'm a bit obsessed about this whole exercise/eat healthy thing, but it's the only way that I can be healthy.
Gah, so I came in and had a shower and made a mental note to wear bug spray next time. And I always forget the sports bra, so I'm speedwalking along, bouncing at the speed of breast, and I curse the day my breasts grew. (I made an lj entry about it. Had pictures.)
Also, I'm packing this weekend. Sorting through my immeasurable amount of crap. What goes with me? What goes to storage? What goes to Annie? What do I still need to buy? What goes in the trash? I'm so confused by it all, looking at the next little while on my calendar, trying to fit stuff in. I'm afriad of stuff going sour, but I guess that's life man. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. When I saw I'm afraid of stuff going sour, I guess I just mean, I'm afraid of everything going sour- life in general. I see my life as a chain reaction, events caused by events, caused by events, caused by events (determinism if you will). So sometimes in my mind, I get a thought process like this:
Don't study enough -> Fail test -> Low average -> university acceptance retracted -> don't go to uni -> trapped in the County ->become bum -> waste life -> die a nothing
I can't help it, that's just the way I think. So that's why I study hardy. lol. Well, I'm sleepy and Marie just said she was moving back to the County at the end of April and I'm ecstatic because she is a wonderful gal whom I adddorrre!