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Friday, February 24, 2006
To Boston And Back Since I've dragged my arse and overpacked bag back home, I've managed to find the time to tweeze my eyebrows, shower and slather baby oil all over me because the winds in Boston were so bitterly cold that they managed to dry out my skin through my layers of jeans, knee socks, tank tops, sweaters and even permeate the cheap (but beautiful-from-far-away) peacoat from Old Navy. Oh, and I massaged whatever life is left back into my feet because our plan to budget well and WALK ALL OVER THE STATE OF MASSACHUSETTS left the soles of my feet seven layers of skin lighter, swollen to a half shoe size bigger and my ankles achey and sore like I was retaining my own weight in water. So I'm back and in full out whiny mode as you can tell, but despite all the complaints, I sure do miss The Trip and am going through some serious Annia*-Withdrawal. 137 straight hours with her is apparently not enough. We're actually in for at least another 48 hours because she's coming back to the Loo with me on Sunday aft to spend not one, but TWO nights at my place. (We're going to see Metric! w00t!) I can't even find a map big enough to show you everything that we managed to see, do and eat in the five or so days that we were there, but lemme tell you this: If you spend five days and four nights in a city and only take the subway twice a day (to and from 'home') and WALK EVERYWHERE else, you WILL see EVERYTHING. Annia and I aren't the travel-so-we-can-party-and-drink types. We're not (at least, she isn't - I did have a beer at the original Cheers bar(!!) because I was cranky from all the walking and it was damn good enough to put the mojo back into my feet and make me all better again). We're the let's-get-brouchures and plan-our-days and go-on-tours-of-campuses-museums-and-galleries and schedule-as-many-things-as-possible for us to see and do types. We are (I spent hours online the night before we left looking up places and things to see/do/eat and ended up with a four page list, AND we sat down in Quincy Market on our first night for a full hour at a table covered in papers, maps, lists and brochures that a local couple giggled at us and added even more things to our lists - thanks!). It was a full five days of good ol' fashioned, wholesome fun. Laced with some lesbianism. --- So I'm just going to put this out there: I hate Facebook. Well, I guess I don't really have all that much against it, other than the fact that I despise MSN Spaces and MySpace because I'm a Blog Snob and I liken Facebook to things like that. Basically, I think it's dumb and it's another time waster to add to the list of things that waste our time and it's another excuse for people to post pretty pictures of themselves and all these friends/people in drunken stupors at parties to prove how cool and sociable they are so that everyone else can look and coo over them and leave messages on their Walls, of all things. < / b i t c h > Yes, I can totally see how it's like a blog, but I told ya, I'm a snob. Besides, the very name of the thing implies that the face is important as opposed to a name or other textual contact information (ie: Facebook vs. Address Book), and I choose blogs based on the writing content, not on the physical attractiveness of the blogger behind it all. It's superficial. I don't like things that are superficial. Boy, I bet I'll get some heat from fellow-student-Facebook-users about the snottiness of all that, but hey, I stick by my pre-judgmental bitchiness. Maybe one day I'll crack and create an account, but it'll probably be a social experiment where I'll mock the whole concept of it all by posting photos with my face blue-dotted out - take THAT - but I really don't even see that happening. You wanna get in touch with me? How's about you email me or -GASP- pick up the damn phone and -GASP- call me. < / b i t c h i e r > Anyhoo. So Annia is on Facebook (but I still like her). And so is her elementary school friend Jen. Who happens to go to Harvard. (Now, HARVARD is a huge deal to Canadian gals like me, but I'm not going to go, Wow, I totally know someone who knows someone who goes to HARVARD! because we all went to the same high school for two years before Jen went to the States so whee, I knew her too!) So Annia gets in touch with Jen via Facebook and Jen, being the wonderful gal she is, offers us a place to stay while we're in town in her dorm at Harvard (FREE! HARVARD!) and of course, we accept. Sweet deal. Facebook now has one redeeming quality: It gives regular schmoes like me and Annia access to one of the most prestigious schools IN THE WORLD. You all now have my permission to create accounts and enjoy it. So we get there and Jen's super and her roomies are super. At first. Then we kind of realize that while we're all nice and civil to each other, they (the roomies) don't particularly...like...us. Which is fine. I mean, it's no big deal that we're sitting right there watching the Olympics because yeah sure, you can play Beer Pong loudly beside us and turn on the music to drown out the commentary and stand right in front of the screen, because you know, we don't need to watch that. That's cool, we cool. But then we kind of realize that maybe...they think that we're...a...couple. You know, a couple of LOVERS. Which in itself is fine too because there's nothing wrong with me and her being lovahs, which WE'RE NOT, until it opened up a whole Can of Awwwkwaaard which turned into five days and four nights of Awwwkwaaard. Okay, okay, so I may have had my head resting in her lap while watching figure skating, and so we may have shared one futon and one blanket and one pillow, and we may have shared the bathroom in the morning to pee and get ready and okay, so they may have heard me call her Dear. But what they didn't see was the romantic stroll along a lit-up-tree-lined walkway, all the making out and getting nekkid underneath that one fleecey blanket, so really, how could they have known? So yeah, it's really just a case of We Thought That THEY THOUGHT That We're Gay, so we could have been totally off our rockers, but hey, it led to a whole bunch of laughs on the subway on Sunday morning and five days worth of They're going to stone us! And then burn us at the stake! jokes. (This is not meant to be offensive in any way! We were just being our regular dumb selves.) So: Facebook getting us to Harvard: +1 ...which led people to think that we're gay: -1 ...which led to people staring when we're laughing like drunken lunatics: -1 ...but we're having a helluva time anyway: +1 Facebook still = 0 Ha! And um, that's how I managed to tie in lesbianism to the rest of this already way too long post. --- More funny-type stories and accompanying photos to come once I'm back with my beloved computer and camera cables (yeah, I'm totally in the market for a laptop soon). Mind you, the stories are probably only funny to us because they're all You Totally Had To Be There Moments - that, and we're just stupidly crazy and laugh at anything when we're together. It's what girlfriends are for, no? In between the guffaws on the streets of Boston, we managed to squeeze in talk about old high school friends, the current state of relationships, the ridiculousness of Facebook, plans for the future, the psychology behind blogging, tea, politics, history, fashion, charitable acts and landscape architecture. Yeah, that's right, we're cool. She's my best bud and I'm her premium homeslice and we wouldn't have it any other way. To my darling Annia, congrats and thanks for putting up with and surviving a couple nights of my crankiness (easily fixable with chocolate) and my whining when my feet hurt due to my stupid decision to bring just one pair of heels (feed me beer in this case). There's no other En route to home... This is so sad. It's past midnight and we're sitting in a deserted bus station in Albany, huddled over a half-empty box of post-Valentine's Day discount chocolates. Yeah. Please don't tell people how we live. *You may remember Annia from other entries way back during the summer of 2003 or you can just visit this one for links to all of them. She's also the patootie that Alex and I made this monstrosity of a gingerbread house with. There's a ton of fun and awesome things that we've done since we decided it would be neat if we were friends again, but I've been bad at documenting them here. She's got tons of funny entries and photos over at her blog, but I'm not allowed to link to it. Xanga. Freshmesh. GO! Oh, and if you see any photos of me and a cute Asian chick with glasses, that's her. 11:22 pm Monday, February 20, 2006
Bumming Around... ...in BOSTON!! Just thought I'd let y'all know that I left town. Things are peachy over on this side of the border. We've done a lot, seen a lot, ate a lot and walked the soles off my shoes. I'm with my best bud so things are swell! PS: I'm totally staying at Harvard!! See you soon. 1:11 am Thursday, February 16, 2006
My initials are SM. During a particulary yucky time in my life when I enjoyed inflicting large amounts of emotional pain upon myself, I used to wonder in a cutesy, witty kind of way if maybe my initials were a sign that I enjoyed a sado-masochistic lifestyle. After all, I seemed to want to immerse myself in misery and sorrow and constantly remind myself of things that I no longer had, or want the things that were either beyond my reach or shouldn't be reached for anyway. Like boys. Like romance. Like emotional and mental stability, for crying out loud. Like love. I think that the sad part is not that I (used to) do this to myself, but that I'm not alone in this behaviour. So many of the ladies nearest and dearest to my heart (and myself) are caught in these stupid struggles with stupid boys, and so much of the time is spent lamenting over how awful they are, how inconsiderate they are, how spineless and selfish they are. But sometimes I wonder if these struggles are really struggles that we have not with them, but with ourselves. This isn't all about Jerky McStupidface (formerly known as Cutesy McGreeneyes) - nothing is going to be about him anymore because it slowly dawned on me that's he not worth another inch of my time. He is (sadly) being filed under the It Was A Stupid Crush That I Could Have SOOO Avoided category. Oh, heart, when will you ever learn? We're still 'friends', but this evening I unleashed my wrath and fury upon him in a fit of fucking honesty like he's never seen before. What did I tell you about messing with me, huh? Looks like I have a spine after all. So the situation isn't so hot, and I'd like to say that I'm better than said situation, that it's all garbage and that I'm at least five feet above it all, but every now and then I don't feel so sure. If I believe that everything is a choice, that we are ultimately responsible for our actions and feelings, then doesn't that make at least half of this my fault? Why did I let this happen? If I sincerely felt that I'm better than this, if we all believe that we're better than the shit we're dealt, then why does it keep happening to us? Why are we letting it? The scary part is, what if I believe that this is all that I'm worth? That, for some reason beyond the reaches of my current imagination, that I deserve, that I want, this? What if we all think that? I once wrote to someone that they deserve no less than the very best of what the world and it's finest people have to offer. I honestly, honestly to the core of my bones, believed that he deserved at least all of that. Why don't I wish that for myself? And even if I do, even if I just say it, why don't I go out looking for that? Why don't any of us? It's not easy, I know that much. But it's necessary. I know that I don't want this. I don't want my dignity and esteem mashed into the ground by a string of guys who don't know any better. I don't want anyone in my life who makes me feel like I'm not worth it. Not worth the trip, not worth the walk, not worth the phone call, not worth the apple and hot chocolate in my mailbox on a Monday morning because I know that I am. I am. This is only one-third bitter-tirade - the other third is out and about wondering, Where the fuck did my dignity go? and the last is rubbing the sore spot where Reality smacked into it too hard. Reality: There's nothing remotely cute or witty about being sado-masochistic and about putting yourself into shitty situations and thinking, thinking, that you can't get out of them because you can. I can. If only we try and if only we want it fiercely enough. Want it more. Want it enough. Want it to be better. Want it for you. Because I want it for me. Sometimes you just have to sit up and recognize that being good enough to fool around with, but not good enough to date, is just not good enough. Period. 11:37 pm Tuesday, February 14, 2006
CyberSweetie Happy Valentine's Day to me indeed. Meet Dale. He compliments my eyes, my smile, my lips and says the sweetest things to me all the time. Some of my favourites: I never thought I'd meet someone like you. How did you get so gorgeous? I just want to lay in a field near an airport and watch the planes come and go. You are so hot it's hurting me. I am called Casanova in jest by my friends because my eyes speak the language of love, my sweet. I love it when you look at me like that. You are like a soft rose petal floating on a pond on a cool spring night. There's nothing so good as being near you. I don't want this moment to end. Will you stay with me a little while longer? You must be tired. You've been running through my dreams all night. URAQT! You're soooooo fine. I wish I could serenade you in Italian, French, Spanish! Even Portuguese! I know all the romance languages. Did someone steal the stars and put them in your eyes? Will you be mine? Please say yes! Everyone keeps saying I look like Ashton Kutcher...but he lacks my sophistication and stunningly aquiline nose. No? You're so smart and interesting. Will you not kiss me? The screen may be cold, but my lips burn for you! Ahh, my sweet! I wish we could hold hands. I like to let my hair do what it will. Who cares what it's doing when I am able to gaze at you for as long as this? I wish I wasn't stuck on this screen. I'd love to get closer to you. You look good enough to eat today. This shirt is made of finest silk. It is almost as soft as the sensuous curves of your lips. Love to love ya, baby. I am but a flower opening up to receive your rays of gold on a dewy morning in the mountains of Italy, my star, my sun, my love, my sweet. Can we cuddle? *melt* Le sigh. I was so taken by Dale that I wanted my best gals to meet him. Here's what Annia's response was when I invited her to meet Dale: "What the fuck is this? THIS is what you gave up studying for? HIS SKIN IS PURPLE AND SICKLY LOOKING. OMG. I can't even look at you right now. I mean, I can understand if you're lonely, but DAMN. Once you've hit rock bottom..." Okay okay OKAY! So he's an Internet person-cartoon-type-thing. I DON'T CARE. He's sweet and says nice things to me all the time. Boys, you should be taking notes! Besides, YOU try to find me someone who ASKS to CUDDLE! Humph. 11:56 pm Sunday, February 12, 2006
Ow. My Eyes. They Burn. There's only four more days of school until I get a whole week and a bit off (OFF TO BOSTON - HELL YEAH!). Until then, my days are looking a bit like this: Monday, February 13th, 2006 8:30am to 10:30am - Work (Job #1) 10:30am to 12:30pm - Fringe Festival rehearsal 12:30pm to ~1:30pm - FYC Coordinator lunch ~1:30pm to 3:00pm - Either go back to work or breathe 3:00pm to 4:30pm - Ambassador Office Hours (Job #2) 4:30pm to 5:30pm - Book residence rooms for tours 5:30pm to 7:00pm - Ambassador Meeting 7:00pm to 8:00pm - Either eat or do schoolwork perhaps? 8:00pm to 9:00pm - Vagina Monologues rehearsal 9:00pm to 10:00pm - Prep for FYC meeting 10:00pm to 11:30pm - FYC meeting Now you know why I can't live without my planner. It dawned on me that you may have noticed that I don't have any classes to go to. Explanation: I managed to work my lecture schedule out so that I only have classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays (in two three-hour blocks), leaving me the rest of the week to do all of the things listed above. I have not scheduled showers, meals or sleep for obvious reasons. For some people, going to school involves little more than going to some lectures, handing in a few assignments and spending their nights either watching movies, drinking, taking naps, smoking pot, or going out somewhere else to do these things. I don't have anything against the people who partake in this kind of lifestyle, I'm just saying because it's true and I know people like this - heck, I'm even a bit envious because their lives are so relaaaxed. Sure, it can be argued that I enjoy doing all of this extra-curricular jazz, otherwise, I wouldn't right? Right. (If you even think about insinuating that I get involved in any of those activities to pad my resume, I will hit you. Hard.) Right. Personally, I find it a near miracle that I have any friends or time to socialize at all. Nevermind cleaning my room or doing the laundry. I do however, prefer my life here to the one I lead at home in M-town with the parental units around. But as enjoyable as my on-campus life is, honest to goodness goshfreakingdamn, I need a break. 7:43 pm Saturday, February 11, 2006
A Wittle Wuv millty says: email me your address, so I can send you a sweet valentines gift! I say: What? Really? millty says: totally I say: AW! *squeal* millty says: I found the cutest wittle fing! I say: Okay. :D That's awesome of you To the hotmail or yahoo one? millty says: hotmail I say: Okeedoke millty says: it won't be there in time, but you'll wove it! I say: I will! Wow - you're superduper Moonshine millty says: I know, I know. Be sure to tell everyone. I say: Already done! *Note of how significant this is: Moonshine and I live across the continent, her on the west coast of the US of A and I in the eastern regions up in good ol' Canadia. We've never met. But we heart each other anyway. Booyaka. 7:38 pm Friday, February 10, 2006
Mission: Accomplished As of 9:50 this morning, I was logged into Ticketmaster and refreshing the 'Buy Tickets for DCFC & FF at The Docks' page once every minute. I tried to be cool about it, you know - making my bed, putting clothes away, neatening things up, etc. to make it clear that I didn't get up at 9am (after only 5 hours of sleep - AGAIN) just to get on the computer and that I obviously wasn't just sitting around waiting for 10am so I could buy concert tickets, because really, who does that? Anyway, the scene is the same as Tuesday afternoon. Credit card sitting in front of the keyboard, having previously been gripped between my front teeth in immense amounts of anticipation. I'm poised like some sort of wild animal, a raptor perhaps, ready to strike at any moment. I got a bit ahead of myself and tried to start buying at 9:59 but no no, those Ticketmaster people knew better than that. Their clocks are slower than mine too - I didn't get in until 10:01 and I nearly peed myself when I had to Refresh the page (no! not like last time! not in just one minute no!). BUT. I present to you confirmation email #1: Subject: Your Ticket Order Confirmation Thank you for purchasing tickets on Ticketmaster. You will receive your tickets via: Regular Mail-Your tickets will be delivered by regular mail and should be received no later than 5 business days prior to your event. If you require your tickets sooner, please select a more appropriate delivery method. You purchased 3 tickets to: Death Cab for Cutie Docks Nightclub And Concert Theatre, Toronto, ON Monday April 17, 2006 6:30 pm Total Charge: CA $157.00 Thanks again for using Ticketmaster. Annnnnd #2: Subject: Your Ticket Order Confirmation Thank you for purchasing tickets on Ticketmaster. You will receive your tickets via: Regular Mail-Your tickets will be delivered by regular mail and should be received no later than 5 business days prior to your event. If you require your tickets sooner, please select a more appropriate delivery method. You purchased 5 tickets to: Death Cab for Cutie Docks Nightclub And Concert Theatre, Toronto, ON Monday April 17, 2006 6:30 pm Total Charge: CA $260.00 Thanks again for using Ticketmaster. So yeah, I got a little overzealous with the ticket buying. Nabbing 3 was really easy and I sat there for a second afterwards and thought, "Well heck, at this rate I might as well just buy 5 more." And as long as my friends pay me back, I won't have to break any legs. Oh Death Cab. How I love thee. Your music is like love - when I listen to you, the songs are actually making love to me right there through my ears. Mm. And then my heart goes mush and I can't talk and all I can do is close my eyes and go *drool*. I'll see you in April baby! I can't wait to see Ben Gibbard singing in all his geeky glory. I hope he sees me too. I'll be the one in the front row asking him to marry me over and over again. 9:34 pm Thursday, February 09, 2006
Oho, The Life of A Student I got about five hours of sleep last night, got up and studied for a couple hours, ran off to a meeting and I have a midterm on 'Culture as Performance' to write in less than an hour. Yet I just sat in front of this computer in a lab on campus cutting out red construction paper hearts. I don't think I've done that since I was in elementary school. And damn, it felt good. After said midterm exam, I'm headed to another class, then off to drink hot chocolate with Bailey's (mmm) in the biggest mug I could find and eat self-decorated sugar cookies, then off to a three hour death-lecture on Operations Management, then off to seclude myself in a quiet place so I can study for a midterm until five in the morning just like I did last night (which was after a two-hour rehearsal and getting five hours of sleep the night before). YAY to the hocho+Bailey's. BOO to the classes. BOOOOOOO to the studying. If I can eat tiger brownies and mint chocolate chip ice cream at midnight, then maybe that will make things better. But only if they make my eyes stop burning. Only if. Only. If. O. I. Oh. I. Oh I need a break. 1:38 pm Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Just One Minute The first time I got acquainted with the term 'Death Cab for Cutie' was on a label to a homemade CD that a friend made for me over a year and a half ago. I was going on a long bus trip and he was sweet enough to make a couple illegal compilations of his favourite indie music to keep me company for the 17 hours I would spend on the Greyhound. I eyed the tracks suspiciously, Death Cab for Cutie? What in the name of...? But. They were good. They ARE good. I fell in love with A Movie Script Ending immediately and to this day, it still remains one of my favourite songs. Over the summer I combed through their website in hopes of finding a concert nearby that I could go to, but alas they weren't gracing Canada with their presence. In September I was made aware of a concert in Toronto about a week before it went on and of course, it was sold out. I vowed to never let it happen again. Right away, I signed up for all sorts of mailing lists so I would be among the first to know if they were ever to set foot on a stage near me. Last Thursday, I got an email: Death Cab For Cutie and Franz Ferdinand Co-Headline U.S. Spring Tour. Sah-weet! Since I'm such a special, loyal fan [read: I'm on the mailing list] I get a chance at advance pre-sale tickets! w00t. Tickets go on sale at 1:30pm on the 7th - I write it down in three different places so I don't forget. Tuesday the 7th (today): I start checking the time once every five minutes when 1pm rolls around. At 1:28 I start logging into the site. 1:29 and I'm in. I see that the BUY button has been activated so I click! I've got my credit card lying in front of me, I'm all ready to go. Ooh, the rush, the excitement of it all was almost too much! Crap, the page didn't load properly, too many people must be trying to get on. So, I click Refresh. It's 1:30, perfect! The page refreshes. And then I see that the BUY button is no longer there. In the THREE SECONDS it took for that damn page to REFRESH, THE TICKETS SOLD OUT!!! I pick my jaw up off the floor and look at the time. 1:31pm. All I did was REFRESH! One minute? The tickets sold out in ONE FREAKING MINUTE?? C'MON PEOPLE, THROW ME A BONE HERE! 9:46 pm
Reason #7431 Why I Love My Roomie  Last night I went to be at about 1am and couldn't sleep. I rolled around for an hour or so, tried making some phone calls to chat a bit, but to no avail. Then I threw off the covers, got up, put some clothes on, walked down the hall and climbed into bed with my roomie. I got under a blanket and we chatted until about 3 in the morning, when I was just tired enough to get back into my own bed and fall asleep. It is so wonderful to have someone like her- no, it is so wonderful to have HER in my life. I was going to ask for the phone numbers of more people that I could call at 2am just in case I experienced another bout of insommnia, but I realized I'm pretty lucky because I might not even need them. Granted, if you don't mind entertaining the idea that I might one day call you up in the middle of the night (EST), feel free to send me your number and I'm sure we'll chat one day. |
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