Birthday Stuff: Advice and Letters
Warning: Long entry ahead, but worth the read (or so I think)

I've been inadvertantly asking people for advice on turning 20, and I've gotten quite a number of responses:

- enjoy your last days of teenhood, you'll never see them again
- get smashed
- switch the numbers 2-0 and act like you're 2 years old
- drink!
- don't drink 20 beers in a day (like my friend Greg did on his 20th)
- don't drink a whole 26'er in a day (like my friend Greg did the day after his 20th)
- drink lots of booze, smoke lots of pot, have lots of sex
- it will be even better than 19

A lot of them have to do with alcohol...I wonder why.

I am still a bit nervous about turning 20, but excitement seems to have taken over. I have my big surprise from my boy tomorrow, and in the morning I get to open my long awaited birthday letter.

I used to watch the show Ready or Not a lot when I was a young, pre-pubescent girl and this idea was stolen off that show. On my 12th birthday, I wrote a letter to myself to open on my 16th birthday. After 4 years, I had forgotten what I wrote (which was the point) and in a flurry of excitement, I opened the letter (the envelope was covered in DO NOT OPEN UNTIL YOU'RE SIXTEEN!!! OPEN ONLY WHEN YOU'RE 16! FOR 16 YR OLD EYES ONLY) in the morning to find my 12 year old self predicting what I would be like at 16. The following is the complete letter (with the exception of last names, to protect identities I suppose); incorrect punctuation, poor sentence structure and stupidity all included (but not the crappy 12 year old cursive).

96.05.01
Dear Myself:

As you know, I'm writing this letter on my 12th birthday. I'm writing this to predict what I'll be like at 16. Well now here's my prediction:

I'll be: more daring, outspoken, more fun, cooler, popular, I guess pretty, better dresser, possibly have a boyfriend, good at sports, more friends, and the real main thing is daring and outspoken.

Well those are my predictions. Right now, at 12, (on my birthday) I'm not much of those. I hope I'll be ALL of those on my 16th birthday. For my boyfriend, I want Kevin. Actually, I want him now. Oh yeah, I also have to know a lot about music, and have a CD player. I want so many things; but I can't list them all. Anyway, this is enough.

Sincerely,
Shirley

I can't remember what I thought when I read this on my 16th birthday, but upon re-reading it a few months ago, I laughed and shook my head at my 12 year old superficial quality. I wanted to be cool and popular and have a boyfriend and a CD player?? Oh Shirley, you've come a long way girl. The only redeeming thing in that letter is the fact that I said "the real main thing is daring and outspoken".

Anyway, after reading this on my 16th birthday I decided to write a better birthday letter to open on my 20th. I vaguely remember writing something about my boy in there (we weren't dating, I was just obsessed), so I guess I'll find out tomorrow.

2:02 pm

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Being Small Isn't So Bad If You Can Do Big Things

Finishing school and leaving residence has put me into a terrible state of laziness. Since I've been home, I've been eating, relaxing and sleeping a bit too much. And by 'a bit' I mean 'a whole lot'. However, I have managed to gather my strength and draft a birthday wishlist for myself. It's not bad, one of my better wishlists, consisting of things more than just clothing. Art supplies, music lessons and some techy things like webcams and scanners.

I'm turning 20 in a few days and I only get nervous about it when I look at the number...geez, it starts with a 2. It means that I've been alive for 2 whole decades, and that it's about time that I start acting like an adult. When I turned 18, my friends wrote in one of my cards "Congratulations, you're now an adult. A very appropriate time to start acting like one." It's been 2 years and I still haven't mastered the art of being an adult. Part of me wishes that I never will.

Turning 20 makes me feel old and insecure. Like I should be doing more than I am, that I should have accomplished more than I have. Child prodigies pop up everywhere, leaving stories about 13 year olds finding cures for deadly diseases, 11 year olds becoming multi-millionaire entrepreneurs and sensational 9 year old opera singers in my head. My life thus far has been quite tame. I managed to get through 14 years of schooling and once got to announce the next stop on the subway PA system....

I think I'm going to add something to my wishlist. For my 20th birthday I'd like to stop selling myself short.

4:28 pm

Friday, April 23, 2004

Late Night

A few things:

1. What would you rather give up, food or sex?

2. I need a new job and the local ADULT video store is in immediate need of counter help. I'm thinking of applying. Seriously. It'd be an interesting experiment of sorts.

3. Speaking of experiments, how dopey would it be if I had my own cam site?

4. Is my blog hot or not?

PS: Look up and to the right. My first Amazon Wishlist!

2:17 am

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

Now That School Is Over

I've become a major geekosaurus. My lovely boy is convinced that I'm weirder than ever, so much so that I'm no longer 'weird' but 'weord'. Which is fine by me.

I'm now carrying my camera around with me everyday, even if I'm just going to rent a movie at the local Blockbuster and don't end up snapping a single shot. I take pictures of piles of dishes, fire hydrants, random buildings and my room keys before I handed them into my Don. I'm starting to build up quite a collection, a small sample of which can be found at my Squarespace account. It's a very small sample. I'm working on it slowly, but now that I'm off school I'll have tons of time to sit here and fiddle.

Which brings me to reason (why I'm a huge geekosaurus) number two: I like my computer. I like sitting in front of it...fiddling. Organizing photos, chatting on MSN, blogging, configuring etc. I never thought I would be like this, I really didn't. But the creative element to this activity - which is so terrible for my eyes - is very enticing and draws me towards it no matter what I try to do to escape. To make my addiction worse, I recently downloaded Skype and now I'm online even more talking to people far away for free, while doing my blog run and blogging myself of course. Case in point: it's 3am and here I am.

There is no reason number three. I am, and always have been, a majorly flaming geekosaurus and am proud to say that I most likely always will be. I mean, I'm choosing to take another course this summer. *gasp* Yes, I want to learn when I don't have to. (Actually, I do have to; the course is now a grad requirement since I switched majors.) I like books and generally geeky things like watching French movies (subtitled of course).

And I think blogging, plus my refusal to leave it, makes me an even bigger geekosaurus.

2:53 am

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

I've Gotten Attached

I've put off working on the new space until exams are over. I've put off pretty much everything until Friday night. Make that Saturday. My plan for the rest of my time here can be found to your left.

Moving out is going to terrible, residence is great and I'm going to miss it bunches. Maybe not so much the sterile rooms and old carpets and drains that get clogged, but the people and the accessibilty of the people. If I'm bored or want to procrastinate, I can walk two doors down and be occupied for hours on end.

The Res Life Staff here have a silly rule that says you have to move out within 24 hours of your last exam. It makes sense, I suppose, ensuring that we don't hang around preventing others from studying and passing exams and whatnot. You can get extensions under extreme circumstances, and I guess mine weren't extreme enough to grant me an extra week; I got a day and a half though. That gives me just enough time to figure out details for my house next year and argue a crappy mark on an essay. Besides, I wouldn't be that disturbing, it's not like I plan on getting drunk every night.

Maybe every other.

Oh, who am I kidding, I'd do it every night.

7:45 pm

Sunday, April 11, 2004

I Wanna Plog

People have been asking me when I'm going to take the big jump and switch to Moveable Type. I tried once, but got so confused that I clicked away, terrified, never to return. I can't lie, sometimes I wish I had used Moveable Type to begin with, then maybe I could be photoblogging right now. But once I got started here I became attached, and I can't bear the thought of leaving my blog here...all alone. So I searched around for free online photo albums in a small attempt to make this space into a plog of sorts, but alas, they do not allow hotlinking.

And then, I came across Squarespace. Though I can't see myself leaving here and moving over there, I am rather excited to learn a bit more about it and finally upload some photos.

I lie. I've already started. There's still a few things that rub me the wrong way (like having the byline at the top), and I know it's not much right now, but it's a start.

5:46 pm

Saturday, April 10, 2004

I Do Not Like

- the smell of food on my clothes

I've never complained about the cafeteria; not the food, not the hours, not anything about eating there. Until I started noticing that it made me smell. I can't for the life of me understand how it happens (the space is large and well ventilated enough I think), and especially/only to me, because I certainly do not get the sense that others smell like stir fry. As if I'm not already concerned about the way I smell on a regular basis, now I have to carry a bottle of Febreze around with me? And it is noticeable. I walked into biz lab one day after having dinner at the caf, and Fraser (who sits beside me) promptly sniffed the air and asked, "What smells?"

- letters that are not from friends

I never thought I'd actually say "I despise opening letters". Time for a change of mindset. After four, count 'em, four rejection letters (and one rejection e-mail), how could I not say that? It seems that no one wants me to work for them, or even volunteer my time with them. Now there's a blow to the good ol' ego, having people tell you that not only do they not want anything about you, they don't even want your time. No, I'm not riding the bitter bus, I'm driving the damn thing. Well, being the foolish optimist that I am sometimes, I suppose this is the time to find that silver lining. Being rejected for all these volunteer positions on campus next year will give me more time to concentrate on school work and find other interests.

- exams

Well, obviously. No one likes exams, but you can't compete with my crappy exam schedule. I have four of these things in the next week. Four. How in the world is that fair? Everyone else I know has at least three weeks to write their four or five finals. Mine are all clumped into a four day period. In combination with the aforementioned rejection letters, I think the school is trying to get me to leave or something. It is apparent that they do not like me very much.

12:04 am

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

And The Studying Begins

I'm finally getting to work, after a week with nothing to do. And when in first year, when there's nothing to do, what do you do? You consume alcohol, duh. I think I've drank more in the last week than my entire 8 months here this year, much to everyone's surprise. Could this be a form of major stress release? Maybe a desparate attempt at having some lots of fun before I write 5 finals and leave.

Alcohol + Shirley
= wild crazy dancing
= sore leg and bum muscles (probably from the dancing)
= a tense lower back
= 3 unexplained bruises on her arms
= a missing belt
= a stamp on her hand that won't wash away
= clothing that smells bad
= waking up at 5am to pee
= embarrassment in the morning
= funny photos and stories later

There's a place across the street that has drinks for $1.75, shots for $2.50 and a dance floor. How in the world did I resist for this long?

2:46 pm

Sunday, April 04, 2004

It's Just Water

It's the end of the school year and in 2 weeks I have to move out. It hasn't quite dawned on me yet...and I know that moving out will be hard on me, because this building has become a real home to me. So much so that I walk around barefoot. In my room, in the lounge, hallways, up and down the stairs (I have to be careful so I can avoid the mud etc.), other floors and

even

in

the

bathroom.

That's right, I go barefoot in my communal bathroom and I'm proud. Flip flops are okay, but I don't really like using them. Shower shoes? What a silly idea. You walk down the hall afterwards and they make those squish-squish sounds. I mean, I shower barefoot in public showers at the pool, so why wouldn't I do it here? If there is a good reason for me to start wearing something on my feet in the bathroom, it happened a few days ago.

So there I am, in the bathroom, barefoot and heading for one of the stalls. I open the door, step inside, and step into something wet.

2:28 pm