It's that time again...

Obligatory I feel bad for not blogging in bloody forever time!

In some ways, not much to report, and in others much.

I made the decision that I am going to go to U of T in september, and see if I can pull it off. If not, then I attempt to do my catch-up courses by correspondence or in the summer, and go for fourth year at Laurentian as planned. I think one semester should be at least enough time for me to tell if the commute is going to kill me or not.

Work is good, I thought for a while that they might think about keeping me on -- which would require either a hefty raise, or a huge cutback in hours so I could still go to school, but I'm thinking it's unlikely. They've given me much praise on my work, but if I had a shot of whiskey for everytime my boss says 'when you're done at the end of the summer' then I'd have had my stomach pumped ages ago. But they've given me what I think is permanent digs, so I don't have to have flashes of Office Space every few weeks. And I've been given more responsibility.. along with with the research and data entry

The love life is looking up. I had the good fortune to meet someone special a while ago, and we've been very slowly getting to know each other. It's been nice, but suffice it to say, the slowness has been a necessity as my spare time is fleeting. But things for once seem to be going well enough for me to, at the very least, change my Facebook status from 'single' to... well... nothing. :-P I err on the side of caution at all times. It's both a blessing and a curse. But I'm cautiously optimistic about this... it's so bizarre though, as my dating experience has been rather fleeting, and after being single (well in most ways... Sammi, you know what I'm referring to) for so long, I'm really just retarded at all this.

I'm trying to get the girls set up with school, as we are changing their school in the fall to one closer to their dad's place, since they spend most days there, and it's easier for me to drive five minutes across town to take them to school, than it is for the boy to walk an hour with four kids across town to pick them up. The question lies with whether or not the school will allow the transfer, as I still *legally* have primary address and custody. It may involve us having to rewrite our separation agreement to accurately reflect our current arrangement.... that is, equal access, no support payments. Meh, if that's what it takes....

Going to see Harry Potter this weekend! This marks my last kid-free, unplanned weekend for almost a month! I have the girls for the next two weekends in a row, as the boy and the GF are going camping, then in three weeks I'm in SAN DIEGO! I need to start making plans soon people, I'm gonna have one day -- probably friday the 3rd -- to come and meet people, so if you're in, let me know (Chris, Paul, Joseph I'm looking at you...)

Songs make the scene

So this may be the first in an ongoing series, but I want to point out some scenes in movies where the accompanying soundtrack totally set the mood for the scene, whether it was the lyrics or the melody itself. These are the ones that pop into mind for now, and in no particular order. Keep in mind that I am neither a music or film elitist, and these are only my opinion.

CRUEL INTENTIONS - "Bittersweet Symphony" by the Verve.

Reese witherspoon looked so triumphant when she outed Sarah Michelle Gellar for the whoring cokehound she was at the end of this film, and I've always found this song to be a really up-lifting song. If you catch me hearing it on a really bright sunny day, I can almost imagine birds taking flight. Crazy I know.

The title plays into this as well. The end of this film certainly is bittersweet for little Reese, as she has taken her revenge on SMG, but her equally whoring boyfriend is roadkill. At least she got a sweet ride out of the deal.




EMPIRE RECORDS - "Little Bastard" by Ass Ponys

The title pretty much says it all, when we the viewing audience become witness to the on-foot chase between Lucas and local shoplifter 'Warren Beatty'. Plus the upbeat tempo makes this scene all teh more amusing, with it's lightheartedness. It was one song that actually contributed to the feel of a scene, instead of filling a scene.




HIGHWAY 61 - "Its not Unusual" by Tom Jones

Four people, running through an eccentric rock stars mansion, chasing their dinner in the form of live chickens, to be hunted through the halls of said mansion with handguns. How does one top that level of absurdity? SET IT TO TOM JONES!!! The Velvet Fog was just what Bruce McDonald needed to set this particular scene right over the top. One of the best scenes I've ever seen.



I'm gonna post this as a thread in group, and I may post other peoples suggestions as well. Based pretty much on my own subjective opinions though.

All kinds of baffled.

I got something in the mail that promises to alter the course of my life quite a bit. A while ago, when I was applying for the Social Work program at Lakehead, I had two other spots available on my form. So for shits and giggles I applied at Ryerson, and for shits and rowdier giggles, I sent an app to the University of Toronto, not thinking that in a million years I would actually get in.

Fast forward about, eeeeehhhhh, six months or so, to last night. I've already received rejection letters from Lakehead, which was unexpected, and Ryerson, which is expected since I never did a damn thing to follow up on that app, as I was planning on going to Lakehead. By this point I have already made my decision to return to LU@G next year part time.

I'm heading out to hang out at Cromsie and Tims, and think 'Hey, I haven't checked my mail in a day or two'. Inside is a large envelope marked UofT. Now, remember, I pretty much took it for granted that U of T was a bullshit application. So, the big envelope threw me off, as rejection letters are usually sent in little envelopes with little to no to-do.

Get out to the car.

Open envelope.

I'm in. I'm motherfucking in. See additional page for conditions relating to your acceptance. No conditions. No essays to write, no tests to take, no interveiws. I'm just in.

So I question, I'm all done my degree... do I want to do this? And then I thought... it's fucking U of T? I'll analogize for my American friends. To turn it down would be similar to saying 'I don't need to go to Harvard, I have this degree from the University of Idaho'

No offence to anyone who may have attended the University of Idaho. I'm sure it's a reputable institution.

So... I've got some thinking to do. The interesting thing is, that I was saying to my dad a few weeks ago that I was thinking of maybe picking up a second degree in english or history.

I worried about the commute. I worried about the workload. I worried about the debt incurred by another 2 years in school (oh, yeah, they wanna give me 5.0 transfer credits, which adds up to about a years worth of work... SA-WEET) But the thing is, this time around, if it's too much, and I can't hack it, and I find I have to quit....

I STILL HAVE A DEGREE. It's not a case where I quit, go back to the convenience store to forever pay off 50G worth of debt incurred for sweet fuckall. I have something to fall back on.

But yeah, I have some soul searching, some financial planning and some new car searching -- because poor Lurch will not survive a commute to Scarborough... Barrie was asking a lot as it is -- but I really think I'm gonna do it. Could mean big things for me.

Inspiration strikes... in the kneecaps.. with a tire iron.

It feels good to paint again. I've said before, whether I have any talent or not remains to be seen, but it's keeps the brain sane and the fingers nimble.

It's been a few months since I've had any luck even starting, let alone finishing any works. The last one that has been dancing around in my mind was beginning to aggravate yours truly, as all preliminary sketches inevitable met their fate in the bottom of the wastebasket, victims of my inability to match pictures in my head to what ends up on paper -- an inevitability that leads me to lament that again, I have found a hobby in which I have a mediocre talent. Oh, to be a prodigy at some pursuit or another. But no, in artistic endeavours I tend to hover in the range of 'Okay' to 'Pretty good', sometimes finding myself in the territory of 'halfway decent'.

But anyway, so I decided to do away with the preliminary sketch portion of the show, as all it seemed to accomplish was furthering my awareness of my lack of proportioning skills. I jumped to the canvas, and just starting flinging color at it, and it's turning out well, *almost* the way I want it. The paint eventually became too thick for any smaller detail work, but the gist is there, and I can finish the details at a later date. Par for the course when working in acrylics, I suppose. Layer, layer, layer.

It feels pretty damn splendid to sit here, with my hair dishevelled, picking acrylic paint from my arms and legs, and to look with wonder at the ever growing blotches of random color on what has become my 'Painting/Hairdying/whatnot' shirt

Maybe when I'm done this one, I'll post a pic. Meh, maybe not. We'll see.

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On a side note, one thing about my job that makes me laugh is that I get to see the attempts by HR at some companies to make the job more fun and interesting.

Case in Point: A biotech company out of Victoria BC holds an annual conference for it's employees called... wait for it, you're gonna love this... Genopalooza.

I laughed. I couldn't help but picture a bunch of research scientists (who I don't doubt many are probably a total riot) running around screaming 'GENE SYNTHESIS, FUCK YEAH!!' And then planning to go smoke a fattie after the keynote on Ion Chromatography.

There's a Compilation CD available in the conference 'Swag Bags' as well as cartoons created by staff. I nearly peed. This, of course, begs the question... What kind of music goes on a CD inspired by Genetic research? If it's out there, I want a copy. This should be good.

No bass, but lots of treble.

Been meaning to write up a little blog, but I've been sick off my ass since saturday night with what has turned out to be a throat infection. No shit? That would explain the glands that are swollen to the size of a goiter. Sexxy. I expect to see a big loss at WW this week, considering I've barely eaten in three days since it was so damned uncomfortable. That and I didn't go last week, because last wednesday was insanely busy with the grad and the formal and whatnot.

The grad ceremony was about as fun as could be expected, which was moderately fun. My classmates and I made innapropriate comments out of envy over the getups those with higher levels of education are obligated to wear to such events. Apparently the more education you become, the more expected it is to look like someone out of a renaissance fair. But it's tradtional right? We also speculated on why so little of the soci department faculty showed, and decided it was probably because it's so ritualistic and all. :-P

But anyway, my dad and my two grandmothers were able to make it, and I giggled at dad attempting to handle both a videocamera AND a regular digital cam.

We had lunch in The Last Class, and I ran into Sam and Jade outside on the patio, which was fantastic, because I haven't seen Sam in weeks. We're supposed to be hitting Monsoons for sushi and martinis on friday night, so that should be fun.

Rushed home to attempt to do my hair, and discovered the hard way that hot rollers are not meant to be put into wet hair, because then they do SWEET FUCK ALL. Had to do it all over again, but the results were acceptable the second time around. Dan, as always was a great date, even picked up a corsage, and we laughed upon discovering that we were color co-ordinated (red dress, red shirt).

The TLC put on a pretty nice meal, stuffed chicken breast with rosemary potatoes and vegetables, then cheesecake for dessert drizzled with table cream and cinnamon. Orgasm on a plate, it was. Many pictures were taken, some dancing was done, and Andie had a few too many since Dan, being the good date he was offered to drive that night.

Sooo work work workitty work for the next day or two, got some nice praise from my boss and supervising co-worker on some work I had done with trade shows, so go me.

Saturday, after a long, very interesting and at times highly amusing conversation with friend, that answered a lot of questions that had been swimming in my head, I dropped my girls off at their aunties house and went and picked up my dad, so we could head down to T.O. to the Hockey Hall of Fame. I had bought the tickets for his birthday last year, and they expire at the end of June, so it was a now or never kind of thing. It's hard to get him or mom to go to the city on a weekend when they are there all week. We drove down to yorkdale and took the subway from there, because the HHF is all the way downtown and between driving and parking, it's easier to just take the subway -- Sammi and I learned this the hard way when we went to get the tickets last summer... on the HOTTEST DAY OF THE YEAR, with NO AC.

It was a nice day, we got to talk a lot, and go out for lunch. Unfortunately by the time it was time to go home I feeling pretty shitty, so when Nicky made dinner for everyone, I could maybe get down a couple of mouthfuls of chicken and perhaps six beans.

So sunday I was dead on my ass all day, as was Tierney. Reagan had full run of the house, so I imagine it was pretty scary when my mom got there with ginger ale and all manner of OTC ephemera. So the past couple days have been movie days, but I HAVE to go back to work tomorrow, I can't afford to miss another day, there's already going to be 3-4 days knocked off this pay period. Gah.

Blogitty blog blog blog.

I'm working again, fulltime, for the first time in nearly four years (three years of school, plus one year of mat leave). That job my sister got me that was supposed to be a one week temp job got parlayed into a fulltime summer job. I hate job-hunting with a passion, so this works well for me. I spend 8 hours a day looking up addresses for lab supply manufacturers and dealers and listen to music.

Tomorrow is my Tierneys' birthday, she's gonna be a big six years old. Happy birthday sweetheart.

Trying to get my passport info together for the summer trip to cali. Been working with wendy, one of sammis other bridesmaids about dresses. It's a tough call because we'll all pretty different body shapes, but she's got one in mind that might just work for everyone.

Speaking of weddings, I'm about to become a sister-in-law again. My sister and her man have decided to get married next june, sO i'm lined up to be a bridesmaid, and the girls as flower girls. I didn't get to be in her last wedding, I was too broke to afford a dress, so I opted to be her videographer instead. So, I look at it this way, I didn't waste my presences on the last wedding :-P The poor girl seems to think I'm not happy for her. Not the case, I'm very happy for her, just not the girly 'squealing-and-jumping-up-and-down type'

Still smoke free, rapidly approaching the three month mark. Also down 14 and a half lbs. New clothes, new hairdo, feeling pretty damn sexy.

My graduation ceremony is on wednesday, with a formal dinner and dance afterwards. Looking forward to that, a chance to get all dressed up and prettyful. Dan, who I have managed to finagle into accompanying me called today to tell me he's gotten a suit -- what a sweetheart, I'm glad he's coming. It's sure to be fun.

Started playing baseball two weeks ago, in a ladies slow-pitch league, which has been fun. Last week I managed to hit the ball into fair territory, and I also caught a ball in play, so it was a productive game for me. We may have even won, I'm not sure though. My friend kaylee signed up as well, and is on my team, so that's cool.

My migratory instincts have been kicking in again. I'm in severe need of a roadtrip.... somewhere close enough that the gas costs and the need for time off work won't cripple me financially, but far enough that I feel like I've been somewhere. Unfortunately, for the time being, this leaves Fort Frances out of the running, which is a shame because I miss the hell out of melissa, as well as eric and my awesome little goddaughter sydney. The time off is a big factor in that one, as it takes two days to get to her place if it's just me driving, and then I usually want to stick around two or three nights... so that's like a weeks vacation. I'm hoping I *might* be able to do it in the fall, but let's face it, I'm unable to commit to it any time soon. Depends on how my savings are doing, and where I am working at that point.

I'm hoping I can take a weekend trip somewhere, over a long weekend perhaps. I've already got the Cali trip, which is fantastic as far as seeing new things goes, but I don't know if air travel is gonna hold the same satisfaction for me as the open road. I've had metric on my mp3 player and I flash back to quebec last year, and I want it again, me and the highway. I think I was perhaps destined to be a truck driver, but somehow things got fouled up in the main offices of providence. *sigh* Perhaps it's better this way. As much I love road travel, I don't know how I would do in an 18wheeler. Probably more machine than I could handle.

Ramble ramble ramble. in any case, that's me lately. Not much to say that can't be done in a bi-weekly to monthly update. Cheers, all.

I'm always late with stuff

I wish I had of discovered the pixies like TEN years ago. Thanks to some people around here, I've been a little obsessed.

While not my favorite song by them, the imagery in this one is haunting. If someone sang it to me, I wouldn't know whether to be touched, or run like hell.


CACTUS
Sitting here wishing on a cement floor
Just wishing that I had just something you wore

I put it on when I go lonely
Will you take off your dress and send it to me?

I miss your kissin' and I miss your head
And a letter in your writing doesn't mean you're not dead
Run outside in the desert heat
Make your dress all wet and send it to me

I miss your soup and I miss your bread
And a letter in your writing doesn't mean you're not dead
So spill your breakfast and drip your wine
Just wear that dress when you dine

P I X I E S

Sitting here wishing on a cement floor
Just wishing that I had just something you wore

Bloody your hands on a cactus tree
Wipe it on your dress and send it to me

Sitting here wishing on a cement floor
Just wishing that I had just something you wore

Today's secret word: Regret

I bought a DVD box set of Pee-wee's Playhouse for the girls and now I can't help but wondering...

Do you think that sometimes, late at night, Lawrence Fishburne drinks a 40 of Jack Daniels, puts on his Cowboy Curtis costume and cries himself to sleep?

Superstition or simple logic?

So it had been raining heavily over the past 24 hours, but it started to let up around 3 this afternoon. As a result the little pink strawberry shortcake umbrella had to be brought in from the car. I caught Reagan trying to open it and gently took it and told her 'Don't open umbrellas in the house. It's bad luck." I thought about what I just said and questioned whether I wanted to pass down such a superstition. Yet I honestly didn't want her opening the umbrella in the house. It's dangerous.

That is when it hit me. Some of these so called 'superstitions' must be based in fact. It is indeed bad luck to open an umbrella in the house. Why? Well, in an enclosed area, how long before one of those spokes get jammed in someones eye? I'd say that's pretty unlucky.

But wait, there's more.

Anybody ever tried walking under a ladder without at least brushing it with some part of the body or another? You walk under the ladder, that person falls, they sue you for a ghastly amount of money. Tough luck, don't walk under ladders.

Breaking a mirror=7 years of bad luck. Because seven years is roughly how long it takes to get broken glass out of a rug. Now THAT's some bad luck.

Now about the number 13. Yeah, I got nothing. I think that one is the result of some group hysteria or something.

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The good news: The place where I have been temping this week wants to hire me for the summer, provided they can find me enough work for the summer.

I also have a better perspective than I did earlier this week. My psyche is on it's way to being housetrained.

I got some pretty feckin awesome final marks back as well. 89 on my final for emergence of social theory (not sure of my total mark) and 81 overall in construction of sexuality. Go me.

Going to wonderland with Krystle on Sunday, should be some good times had by all.

Today I don't feel pretty.

It's 5:30 and I can't sleep. The tears keep coming and I'm not even trying to stop them. Maybe they'll run out before I have to get to work.

Not that I want to go. Right about now I want to curl up in a blanket and cry until I am all swollen and ugly-- if that hasn't happened already. I don't want anything to eat that isn't chocolate or anything to drink that has less than an 8% alchohol level.

I feel like I'm in sex and the city, but I'm only getting to live out the shitty parts. I get the break-ups and the occasional lousy one-night stands, and the mind-fucks. I dont' get a Big, or an Aidan, or fuck, even a Steve. I could go with a Steve right now. Or the bald Jewish guy. Harry? Whatever. Back hair and all.

Yesterday was such a lovely morning. What the FUCK happened? No, I don't get an answer to that one. I get to formulate my own answer which, right now, is I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. I'm hurt, I'm angry and that's all I really care about.

Christ, my head hurts.