You are water. You're not really organic; you're
neither acidic nor basic, yet you're an acid
and a base at the same time. You're strong
willed and opinionated, but relaxed and ready
to flow. So while you often seem worthless,
without you, everything would just not work.
People should definitely drink more of you
every day.
Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
I don't know if adulthood is a line that's crossed as much as it is a path: sometimes a frolic through meadow glades, other times a heavy-hearted trudge through hell and high water.
Even then, getting there is half the fun.
I don't think I've made it to the end, but I can recount a few of the bigger steps I've taken along the way:
Making the decision to skip a grade.
The entrance test for my high school.
The first bus ride to, and first day of high school.
The first month spent sleeping on the couch when I refused to share a room with my sister.
The school trip to Oregon; planning and cooking meals, seeing plays twenty times older than I was, the now-infamous Honk If You Want More Skin bus ride back.
School-based work experience; stabbing myself with a razor - barely missing a vein and a nerve, requiring three stitches, responsible for the scar at the base of my left hand. More work experience; the slow horror of an office job and the agony of being stuck at a desk all day.
Being put in charge of the yearbook: 6 people to work with, 1400 people to satisfy, 5 administrators with whom to fight for the privilege of mercilessly crushing fragile high school egos with a mere caption, carefully placed photo, or misquote.
First actual job.
First beer/joint/smoke ring.
First kiss.
First day at UBC, abandoned in a sea of people.
Finding the AUS; the value of teamwork.
Vomiting profusely at Whistler; the value of finding and respecting limits.
Judging people with Spencer; the value of nonsense and friendship.
Making billboards with Graham; the value of perseverance.
Long talks with Vanessa; realizing that I was an excellent judge of character.
Phone calls to Paige; the value of hope and the element of surprise.
Working at the PNE; knowing that this was something I couldn't do for the rest of my life.
Every minute I spent working on ACF, honing skills I never knew I had, becoming an instant expert on putting up walls whose only purpose was to get vandalised, dealing with angry tour managers (knowing when to call for help), mini donuts and topless bullriders spotted over the shoulder of my mother.
18th birthday and all that came with it.
I still call for my dad if there's a spider larger than a loonie.
My Etch-A-Sketch sees regular use.
I don't know what I want to do with my life.
I'm no adult. There will be a day when I pause and realize that I am (probably while shaving, knowing myself), but until then, I'm happy to remain a traveller.
party was awesome.
well worth getting the phone confiscated for. (if you want me, leave a message - I check it every half hour or so.)
--
the ride home was something different altogether; my dad told me not to speak, and then spent the entire car ride bitching about the sacrifices he had to make for me.
I said nothing; am amazed at the self control I am able to summon (even after 4 Gerald Specials, a glass of wine and a rum and coke that was more rum than coke)
---
looking forward to IKEA tomorrow, phone or no phone.
--
before the rumour mill starts up: I kissed Dingwall. On the cheek. At the behest of Ian Strand. For a photo. (more of a comic-strip thing, really)
remember this?
more specifically:
ex:
(during 2+2=5)
[GERALD turns around, sees GRAHAM and VANESSA]
[VANESSA grins]
GRAHAM: you're hovering [grins like small child at Christmas]
(beat drops)
[GERALD ROCKS OUT]
on the bootleg I've got (and that is spreading about the internet, it seems), Graham is heard quite clearly.
of course, this matters to nobody but me...
travel.
moving from one place to another, watching endless tableaux swish by in a soundless blur, rendered mute and awed by the bustle that is other people.
in my daily commute, I pass through 4 cities/corporations/whatever, countless neighbourhoods (including my old one), over one river, past four car dealerships, the second largest mall in Canada, by two Telus buildings (separated by four stations), a train depot, and a toilet paper factory.
For what felt like an eternity, I couldn't handle the ride. To simply step through and over, like a pair of 20,000 league boots, making little if any impressions as I stood still and tried not to let the heartbreak show. Eventually, I would suit up like a deep-sea diver: headphones on, something english with guitars going loudly, eyes and mind buried deep in a graphic novel, I simply ignored the world. I still do, when I'm nervous about something. (witness Owen and Paige yesterday, standing behind me at Broadway Station, Owen miming pinching my posterior, while I listen to Thom Yorke wailing about chickens in his head and yuppies networking, and ponder what the interviewer's going to ask me, not noticing that they're there until Paige giggles loudly enough during a lull for me to turn around.)
but I digress. it's travel that does me in; looking down on people and the world they inhabit as you go right by, bouncing like a straight line off a circle (go tangents!), ignorant of their stories and experiences and laughter and sadness; to know that every person you go by has a story that you're missing, a talent that you'll never see, a recipe you'll never taste, a joy you'll never share.
it makes me feel tiny.
- I was in one of Paige's dreams; Owen had a Radiohead cover band and I had a crush on him.
- interview went *really* well; now it's a question of my somewhat spotty availability. and I've been invited back for summer, and also to work in their HR department when I'm done my degree.
- ghirardelli does ridiculous hazelnut hot chocolate. (I stopped at Death by Chocolate on my way back to the bus stop)
- ran into someone two grades younger from my high school that knew me (go tiny public school!), who greeted me with "dude, you were about the last person who I'd figure to become a yuppie." (I was wearing a maroon shirt, shades-of-metallic-gray striped tie, gray pants and the black shoes, while holding a paper cup with a java jacket on it ( which contained said hot chocolate))
- I coordinated lumberjack socks with my tie. And it worked.
- butter chicken went over well; I also think I managed to sate Spencer's desire to cut flesh (temporarily, I assume; permanently, I hope.)
- it's also great to cook with people who don't look over your shoulder the whole damn time and spice when you're not looking.
- la fin du monde is wonderful.
scent is the key to memory for some.
for others, it's all about the mnemonics.
for me, it's music.
so, pick a memory: it's the only one you get.
do I go with Rubix Cube, to remind me of the time I politely refused Kazzer's tour manager?
or should I pick the orchestral theme to Super Mario Bros, which was playing when I was told that I would be Upper Plaza Guy?
OK Computer, for the moments in the graphics room in my highschool, designing layouts and forging bonds with equally geeky friends?
Sulk, for those grey, rainy days whiled away playing videogames when I should've been studying?
let's go the other way:
random happy hardcore, to relive the panic that resulted from my losing an act at ACF 12?
Kylie's Fever, for when I saw that I'd failed my first university course?
U2's Beautiful Day, so I can be graduating again, walking across the stage, shaking the principal's hand, and being asked where my mother is?
Andrew WK live, to remember the pain of moving out of Vancouver?
there's a thousand thousand other moments, other notes and words that open doors in my head.
I can't choose.
no. I won't choose.
I had an awful summer.
It started out looking great; 18 years old, job applications out all over the place, finally had my own room, prime spot in east van (far enough that I could use it as an excuse, close enough that it really wasn't.), and it looked like the world was my oyster.
four months later, I had no job (aside from the PNE, which was more being paid to tan than actual work), I'd moved to Delta(it's exactly like Surrey. no matter what anyone says, it's all the same), and my room was pink. with jungle animals on the wall. the sense of isolation was overwhelming, and the commute to my summer class was crushing; watching endless city landscapes slide by was like getting my heart torn out - I still don't know why.
granted, there were random bursts of joy; outings with friends, for normal things like turntables in the states, or ridiculous ones like slurpees in squamish, but they only served to outline the despair that had suddenly entered stage left.
I spent my the last seventy dollars in my chequing account on my radiohead ticket, and I would sit and stare at it, hoping to extract some of what I knew was coming. It didn't work.
but the day came (and paige had come back shortly before, which made it even awesomer), and I headed down to the stadium, ticket in hand. lost paige shortly thereafter, when I had to break off into the elitist wristband section (where my extra $10 went) and head in alone, guided only by a text message to meet graham stage left. (we found paige later, and another friend of ours outfitted her with a wristband.)
long story short, I had an embarassingly good time. knew the words to every song, called out titles after maybe four bars, usually more, watched, absorbed and generally enjoyed the experience of being immersed in music I loved, surrounded by unequal parts strangers and people I loved, and knowing that I was free.
that night, I had one of the most enjoyable bus rides I've ever taken. and this is my 7th year of taking the bus.
two days later, I received an all-access pass to the show, from a friend who was working backstage.
whenever I felt dislocated, or alone, or angry, or whenever I heard an argument through the walls, I would look at my pass, remember the bass of the gloaming passing through me, or phil dancing during backdrifts, or ed's improvisation at the end of just, or jonny rocking out during go to sleep, or any one of countless moments from the concert, and be back on the field at t-bird, free again.
it's a rectangular piece of cloth, somewhere between gaffer tape and denim, yellow bordered with a black and white rendition of the Hail to the Thief artwork on the cover, stamped with VANCOUVER, 8-30-03 in black.
and it's everything that's right with the world.
things make more sense now.
this doesn't change that I need to get out.
this doesn't change that I need a computer before I do so.
this doesn't change that I have wonderful friends that I love (and who love me in return)
this doesn't change that I have a self-appointed mentor who started as a running gag, and is slowly becoming sort of serious (and who I am not, under any circumstances, turning into.)
this does change how I look at things; how I react to things; how I do things.
thanks, gang.
for those that don't know, I signed up for Another 48 Hours 2, in which a group of bloggers is given a subject to write about, and 48 hours to write it in. there's a link on the sidebar, and here's my entry for this week:
winter light streams through useless blinds, filling a pink room with grey, and irritating the sleeper within.
roll. shuffle. wake. grasp uselessly at the trailing edge of a pleasant dream (all surrey bridges wash out; I am free of suburbia forever.) release the last trailing tendrils, and submit myself to the waking world, one sense at a time:
ears first; close by is the ticking of my wristwatch, parked on the nightstand. no schoolchildren outside, no cars on the road, no footsteps upstairs. Strain to make out a vague sound, wait, wait... it's just Dad snoring.
nose is clogged. fuck. no smells.
mouth. I don't want mine right now - last night's beer and morning breath form a film on the inside. dry tongue meets hard palate, and it feels like an alien world inside my head.
skin: I am alone, but warm, encapsulated in leopard-print.
lastly, eyes: pink room. jungle creatures on the wall. stupid hand-me-down furniture. home.
roll again, to check the time (6:40am).
shift, and return to slumber.
"http://www.sidetalkin.com/
a little background: Nokia recently introduced the N-Gage, which is a phone, MP3 player, gaming device, and toaster.
...okay, I made the last one up, but it's not that farfetched.
It has one major design flaw: you have to hold it sideways to talk.
a) happy Diwali! it's the hindu new year, and now there's only three days left before I can eat meat again. At which point we have to go back to Salathai, 'cause that looked good.
b) happy 21st, Lana! Remember, you're not short, you're efficient.
c) happy 19th, Paige! There's really nothing I can say here that hasn't already been said.
there are days when I wish I could secede from my extended family, and thus free myself from this stupid web of soap-opera intrigue that really has nothing to do with me.
today was another one of them.
---
welcome back, graham!
I'd have been there, but you had to pick Hindu New Year's Eve to arrive.
I was explaining this to Trevor, and found that I was using Spencerian hand gestures.
if I suddenly develop an affinity for mayo, please find a handy blunt object and proceed to beat some sense into me.
(nothing wrong with Spencer, mind you, I just have no plans to die at 38 of my second heart attack.)
clicky.
I've got the rest of the series in zipped JPEG format, if anyone wants it.
...I'm still startled by the content of the post below.
I know the circumstances and the events of the weekend before that brought it about, but still. It's so... angry. I almost had to check and make sure I hadn't turned green.
but that's done with.
here's some one-sentence reviews!
The String Quartet Tribute to Coldplay: so mellow it hurts.
Enigmatic: The String Quartet Tribute to Radiohead: Songs with three drummers and two guitarists do not translate well to string quartet format; otherwise see above.
Hawksley Workman: Lover/Fighter: new, and yet somehow more of the same.
Wilco: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot: someone kick me for not listening to this sooner.
Squarepusher: Feed Me Weird Things: awesome for weirding people out with, especially in the office.
1.8.7: Cities Collection: oddly fitting.
Radiohead: Scatterbrain (4Tet Remix): ridiculously good - in fact, it makes the 2 + 2 = 5 single a viable buy.
coming soon:
more Squarepusher, Boards of Canada, more d 'n' b, the Lost in Translation Soundtrack, the Bodysong Soundtrack, and Goldfrapp.
not coming soon:
random angry outbursts.
4 tet remix of scatterbrain = awesome.
___
I love not having to talk to someone; just being able to go about whatever you're doing without having to fill an awkward silence is awesome.
___
no crotch-staring today, but what would I put on a sign to hang off my fly?
"roses are red,
violets are cool,
I really would prefer
you not stare at my tool"
or should I bust out some haiku?
I hate how some people will do nothing more than stare straight ahead for the entire duration of a bus ride.
Especially when they end up spending the entire ride from Broadway to UBC focused on my crotch.
and not in the good way.
whistler was spent getting to know people better.
it's interesting how much fun you can have when you're not vomitatiously ill.
Mozilla Firebird = awesome
Sygate Personal Firewall = awesome
Soulseek = awesome
XP updates required after 4 months offline = not awesome.
this is pretty bad.
gotten so used to posting somewhat regularly that I feel guilty about not having done anything since Radiohead.
here goes!
__
The School:
The usual, I suppose. Classes are mind-numbing (LING 100) to really very interesting (THTR 150). Good to see everyone back. Well, most everyone, anyway. There's always the one who you could do without, and the one who's passed on (not dead, graduated) that you miss.
__
The Sister:
she left her husband last Tuesday, after seven stormy months. He wouldn't stand up to his mother (basically, it would have been "Stop picking on my wife, your unrealistic expectations are ridiculous and I will have none of this.)
she's back. and I never really mentioned her before because she was married before I started the blog, and since she wasn't allowed to visit home (see also: unrealistic expectations). I love her (she is my sister, after all), but there's a number of things we don't get along on.
so, instead of telling her when I disagree, I have to grin and bear it. So far, this includes:
people who claim membership into a group to which they don't belong (or have been removed from) bug me.
deeply.
ears still ringing.
face hurts from continual silly grin.
feet hurt more, from 6 hours in parking + more jumping up and down.
whatever.
show was amazing
from opening (2+2=5) to closing (EEIRP), I was enthralled, jumping, bouncing, hovering, moving, swaying with slow songs and pausing for the odd sip of water, and flat out having a bitchin' time.
ex:
(during 2+2=5)
[GERALD turns around, sees GRAHAM and VANESSA]
[VANESSA grins]
GRAHAM: you're hovering [grins like small child at Christmas]
(beat drops)
[GERALD ROCKS OUT]
3 encores, 7 songs.
Myxomatosis!!
Wolf at the Door with keyboards!!
Ed rocking out, and air-drumming!!
Michael Stipe coming out for Karma Police!!
Ricer-shaming bass on The Gloaming
I... wow.
now, to track down a bootleg...
today didn't suck.
there were no ridiculous arguments, no "where-are-you" messages, and maybe the silly jungle creatures on my wall aren't that bad.
okay, scratch the last one.
__
now, for long-postponed updates:
__
peer advising is mad fun.
if you're helping someone, then there's the whole fuzzy-happy-helpful feeling of making someone else's life easier.
if not, you're chatting with the other people, or on MSN.
win/win/win. I'd love to work there.
___
parking is 60% standing around, 25% chatting (either with "guests" or other parkers) and 15% waving arms.
not bad, but I'd much rather do something.
whatever. parking is still better than some of the other PNE jobs, like sweeping (exclusive domain of 15-year olds for whom this is a first job), concessions (no explanation needed) or lottery tickets ("win a house! win a car!" x 8 hours = yowza)
___
got my radiohead ticket.
the guy who sold me mine did so at a loss.
odd.
53.50USD x 1.39965 CAD/1USD = $74.88 CAD.
___
paige is back.
she has been since saturday, but I hadn't made it out to campus until today.
am somewhere between relieved and excited (paige returning = radiohead and school starting)
___
first time I've actually been excited for school to start.
classes aren't going to suck (THTR 150, LING 100), the AUSgang, and the slowly increasing likelihood of a campus job, things are looking up. finally.
___
waterproof khakis are awesome.
and only $40!
___
no longer allergic to grass.
melons will be tested shortly.
___
really odd to write after such a long hiatus. feel sort of guilty for neglecting the blog, and my writing's not where it used to be.
I find that proper writing of any sort requires a certain organization of thought, and also a fair bit of time in which to do it.
Unfortunately, using the library computers puts a damper on things.
blarg.
arranged myself a twilight zone ticket.
this means I have to back out of buying one from jon loewen.
I feel terrible about this.
if anyone who reads this needs (or knows someone who needs) a radiohead general admission ticket, email jon - it's jonloewen (at) telus (dot) net
---
got the info centre job - it's 5 hours and not ten, but it's still a foot in the door.
I think I find out about street team tomorrow.
on the #41 bus.
see vanessa.
go over, sit down, start a chat, and then...
THOM YORKE gets on the bus.
and we have a discussion.
don't remember what about, but it was engaging.
so now I have *two* interviews on Monday, one for street team, and the other for temporary Aleksing (read: working in Brock Hall during the fee-paying rush). Am appropriately excited/nervous.
---
PNE orientation was... interesting.
did stupid icebreakers, which are stupid but effective - we had to name our table, and since we were all from Parking (got there late, so they couldn't really mix us in with the rest) we were the pylons. apparently, this was extremely witty and the name + our presentation (one guy made car noises and "drove" around us, appropriately knocking a couple people over) won us single movie passes (wtf? could you not at least spring for two a person, Giant Corporation?) and Starbucks gift certificates. w00t.
---
have made arrangements for RH ticket. it's very cloak-and-dagger; jon promised it to someone else who couldn't deliver, so I have to keep the fact that he's selling it to me on the so-called down-low.
---
Friends continue their reign of awesomeness; brother has yet to grasp that farting is not funny.
---
Delta library is weird. Has Go Plastic, but no Bends. why?
---
headphones for beer = best trade ever.
---
finally listened to a live version of Kid A; which made the lyrics decipherable. What I thought was "please don't be so scared" was actually "we have heads on sticks".
-1 to my ears.
---
was listening to "how can you be sure" (track 14, bends japanese release), and I caught the female backing vocals, something I hadn't previously noticed.
+1 to the eggos
---
found the old Kid A/Pablo Honey/Amnesiac MD. (it was in my sock drawer, for some reason)
also downloaded a concert from 1993 at a cousin's from Cuttooth.com
it's not great quality, but still worth a listen.
(Cuttooth is the name of a b-side off the Knives Out single, in case you were wondering)
---
happy birthday, graham!
you're not that old.
honest.
---
spoke to paige for an hour last night, including a small three-way call to Vanessa.
as well as flat-rate long distance, telus seems to have tossed 3-way calls into our phone plan, which means we can all talk to paige!
made things inexorably better, knowing that she wasn't as down as her posts would have me believe.
---
am dropping VISA 180, for as yet undecided course.
I don't know if I can swing moving out yet, and the course sounds extremely time-consuming.
this wouldn't be a problem if I wasn't losing most of a day every week to commuting. (2hours/way x 2 ways x 5 days/week = 20 hours)
but I am going to be (temporarily, I hope), and I can always take it later. I do need something to replace it now.
---
got a phone call: they want me for AMS Street Team interviews on monday
this means I need to:
- get a haircut
- figure out what the hell I'm going to do to fill up my three minutes of "wow-the-interviewer-time"
- possibly make a billboard, courtesy of graham-taught skills.
---
hindu suits as curtains got me an extra two hours of sleep.
my mother mentioned that they'd probably fade in funny patterns, and that she might just sew some for me.
Meeting/party was fun.
did the usual party thing, but didn't drink. went through 2.5 pitchers of iced tea, instead (thanks, payne!). had a shot of raspberry vodka (cough syrup + burning)
had a number of interesting conversations - notably with Vanessa, Jayme, and Eaton.
first: props to V - she's an excellent listener. and very attractive.
second: Jayme seems back to normal. I miss having a backyard in which to stare at the sky. Saw two shooting stars, though.
third: worried about Eaton. We had an actual, normal chat in which he didn't threaten me. THIS DOESN'T HAPPEN, PEOPLE. unfortunately, I don't know him well enough to nudge him into talking about whatever's bothering him, so I'll fret from a safe distance and wait for the days of incredibly witty death forecasts to return.
not having internet at home blows.
as such, I've started writing them out and saving them for later.
here goes:
every now and then, someone does something stupid. stupid beyond the normal bonds of idiocy. such incidents include swearing at Graham's mom, or demands so incredibly presumptuous it make's your head spin.
I got one two days ago.
my dad sat me down and made up some crap about me having changed (fuck, obviously. if you want constancy over time, get a goddamned statue) and launched into a spiel about how his time on the temple committee some time ago had screwed him over by distracting him from getting his business done. therefore, the AUS distracts me from class.
---
first problem: I don't skip class for AUS stuff - I skip class because it's incredibly boring. Or was, anyway. Next year looks all sorts of awesome.
second problem: *you* can't manage your time. I am not you. bad assumption to make.
---
said distractions led to drop in grades
---
problem: grades dropped because I didn't go to class, and largely because I was burned out.
---
also business about last year, when I ran the yearbook, which brought down my grades, made me incredibly moody and unhappy around the house, and robbed me of scholarships.
---
it brought my grades up (really, I've got report cards that prove it), allowed me an outlet for previously untapped talent, and let me mock everyone else in the school. Oh, and the moodiness? Try being 17 and sleeping on the couch daily
---
but I digress. this ended in him demanding that I resign and walk away from AUS business, as well as the Fair.
I flatly refused.
You (seeing as most anyone who reads this is either an AUSer, or fulfills below requirements) made first year bearable. I didn't want to go straight to school - I wanted to take a year off and travel. Since my brother had said the same and has yet to return to school, I got pushed into somewhere I didn't want to be, took courses to fulfill a career path that wasn't one of my choosing, and got ready to hunker down and despair.
Then I got a copy of the Source, decided that maybe this wasn't all bad, and walked into a bunch of random, random experience.
bleargh.
dinner at payne's was fun, car ride home wasn't.
"do you want a ride home?"
"do I have a choice in the matter?"
---
welcome to blogging, naf.
---
psycholology undergraduate advisor = suck.
"go to room 2527 for drop in appointments."
get to room 2527, there's nobody there.
----
stupid rechargeable battery.
if I'm editing on the MD (dividing tracks, shortening tracks, adding names, etc), and the battery dies (usually I have it plugged in while editing, but I didn't because the battery meter was at 3/4ths), then I've effectively wiped an MD. this is what happened last night.
luckily, it was only the gaudy-ass mix disc (the disc is gaudy, the music is mixed), but it's still annoying.
---
writing cover letters is a pain in the ass.
---
note to V: who won the pool?
---
I hate not having the internet at home.
Besides lacking the capacity to MSN, I can't blog right when things hit me, and I miss, well, Paige.
I'd say more later, but I don't know when later is.
:\
well, I passed CHEM 121, and I must have done pretty damn good on the final, given that I skipped an entire page (calculating atom size from the degree at which an x-ray is diffracted = confusing) but I managed to get a 57 overall - which is averaged with the 45 from beforehand.
so, I'm buying a headphone amp as a self-reward.
yes. I said headphone amp. Mock me now, but you will be amazed later. Well, Graham and Paige mostly; the rest of you are philistines.
paige mentioned that I wasn't terribly detail-oriented about my sources of melancholy, so here's a breakdown, lifted from an email I sent her:
moving is over with... for now. my dad's started looking for a house in the same area, and we're all emphasizing the transiency of this move (if I could find the camera, I'd send a picture of my closet). I don't like the area, firstly because it's closer to two hours than to an hour and a half for me to get home, and also because all the people are afraid of me, because I am a late-teens to mid-twenties brown guy. I was amused the first time, but now I'm annoyed; being grouped in with a bunch of middle-class suburban faux-gangster kids simply because of my skin tone and age group is somewhat aggravating.
with no internet or cable, I've been doing more reading, mostly Discworld books (comic fantasy) borrowed from jake (asshat friend).
I hate my room. It's pink, and there's a cacophony of jungle animals on a stupid trim piece that runs around the entire room. My bed is right on the floor, there's no room for my dresser with mirror, so I only have the wardrobe in there, large spiders seem to be attracted to it, and I can't put things up on the wall because there's no masking tape and I don't want to deal with accidentally removed paint.
I haven't worked for almost a year, unless you count temp jobs like polling and calendars. I'm not looking forward to doing parking at the PNE - I didn't put anything specific down because I hoped they'd have picked me for something ACF-ish, but I get to tell people where to park, instead.
The welcome back barbeque will be nothing compared to radiohead - also, if you're living in the office, I can steal you the electric wok, which is everything it sounds like (plug in, and stir fry.)
[paige-specific bit; if you want to know, ask her]
my sister and her husband are heading for splitsville - I think it's a trial separation now, and possibly a divorce later. this means she'll be moving back in, and that we'll be back to five people in a three-bedroom house. I found that out saturday morning; I don't know how long she'll be back, and walking on eggshells + current instabilities don't bode well.
chemistry is boring and stupid. fuck you, electrons!
last night: I found out my sister is probably going to be living with us for a while - time to get reacquainted with the couch.
this morning: did paperwork for job, went to pick shifts (you pick a page and it has times and locations for the two-week period), and found that none were free on saturday the 30th, so I picked the timesheet with the earliest end time (3:30pm)
one step forward, two steps back.
it's 8:30. assuming that the gang left at 5am (you said 4:30, but we're talking about Spencer here), they should have passed Hope a little while ago.
I would like nothing more than to be in that minivan, happily cramped into the faux spaciousness (headroom yes, legroom no) with no purpose other than to go and make a certain citizen of Canmore (Canmorite? Canmorian?) extremely happy. Instead, I'm sitting here in the south side lounge, waiting to go to my midmorning na-- chem class and typing on a computer three letters behind.
the worst part isn't the disappointment, or the sadness, or, for that matter, the guy beside me who is reading english tabloid stories and shooting the occasional glance over here. it's the resignation; the utter and total knowledge that I knew I wouldn't make it.
it's moving from ;_; to :|
It's not me. It's never me. My problems are small, and generally easily solved.
so far I've missed:
- staying out during production week (no real reason).
- Coldplay (a wedding)
- Tent Drinking (had to babysit older brother)
- Canmore (first it was "moving". now it's "your sister's situation is stressing us out, and having you god-knows-where won't help anything")
I'd like to get angry and yell at people and possibly break things. It won't happen because it's not the way I do things. I'm going to finish this post, go grab a bagel, and head off to learn about intermolecular forces.
---
(because I have no home internet, here's something I meant to post yesterday)
wednesday night was.... interesting.
grabbed a friend, who is known to me (and Vanessa) as the one who didn't change after grade 12. actually, he hasn't changed since grade 9. it has its ups and downs - his house is the only place I can go and be left alone for hours at a time, but he has all the tact of a 14 year-old and an incessant need to be right.
went out for late-night AYCE sushi and damming - usually an equation for fun.
I didn't think it would go too well, and I was right.
we went, we dropped, we ran back to the car. ceramic fruit were better for tossing out of cars than for dropping off dams - doesn't matter now, because there's none left.
jake was unimpressed, I caught graham shooting shea a lot of looks at sushi, most of which said "get a load of this guy."
we were dropped off a little after midnight.
what made it all worth it, mind you, was the voicemail I got from graham shortly afterwards.
"without doubt, your friend is the biggest asshat I have met. Including Kazzer."
and then the rest of the message is a snippet from There There
had the weirdest dream last night:
I'm lying in bed (can't remember if I'm reading or if I'm going to bed), and my dad walks in, tosses a manila envelope onto my chest, says "this came for you" and then walks out.
I sit up in bed, open up the top... and my alarm clock went off.
I know it's not straight deja vu - when I get those, it's more like three seconds taken out of context, often a scene that I don't recognize, but will be in (at?) in the near future. I got a fair bit of those for AUS activities - the first few poster parties, and the time when I broke into chem with Eaton, and then went back with Spencer, Geoff England and an F-Master were ones that stick with me.
on the grand old scale of weird, it's not a huge deal, but something about it is on my mind, causing me to be writing this in the C-Block Mac Lab, and not be in my chem class.
moved most of my stuff out today.
it's the bed, clothes, portable audio gear (like I'd let that leave my sight), and THE GODDAMN RACK OF BANGLES that remain.
in happier news, I found my old "the first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers" t-shirt.
it's awesome because:
a) it's shakespeare.
b) it's from the best school trip I ever took.
c) it is, in fact, the shirt I removed for the "honk if you want more skin" section of the busride.
I almost wish I'd kept in touch with more of my highschool friends; reminiscing about days gone by as I rummage through the closet sort of loses its appeal when I can't pick the phone up, call someone who was there and use the words, "hey, remember when we did this?" about eighty million times.
such is life.
yesterday:
- got up every twenty minutes to blow my nose in chem class. this probably annoyed the fuck out of everyone around me, but kept me awake for the entire class, which was new and exciting.
- hung out in AMS Services offices. Amanda Klein is in the office next to Jon and Dingwall, and she always sees people walk right by. If you're reading this, and you go to see Team Inside, drop in and say hi. Amanda's really cool (I did want to be her assistant, after all), and you won't regret it.
- lunch with Jon and Spencer = all sorts of fun.
- ride home with Vanessa + slurpees = even better. I realize that I don't get to hear exciting Vanessa stories much because I don't shut up, so I made a note to do so more often. Also, Vanessa, I maintain that we should trade families, simply to see if anyone notices.
- bitchy father + packing = bad end to awesome day
today:
- mango for breakfast. something everyone should do.
- bus ride music. am becoming 'intimate' with chili peppers like I am with radiohead. this is not a bad thing.
- intimacy with music = knowing the tiny details that make the experience better, like how the right-channel guitar in Scatterbrain never does the same thing twice in a row, or catching the synths in the "rain down" bit of Paranoid Android. Easier to do with good headphones/speakers, of course.
- class is beginning to make sense. this is good, because this whole passing thing seems easier, and bad, because it's Chemistry, and chemistry is evil.
- speech experiment with jon howell. I like jon howell; he's a good kid. Today was the first day I'd seen him since the ACF dinner, and it was silly/fun/wheeIamaguineapig!. Apparently, I have a nice tongue.
- visited a friend in kerrisdale. it was like being in grade 9 again, except with a gamecube instead of an N64. also watched loads of season four buffy.
- haven't decided on a new design, am open to suggestions.
also, visit Jayme.
did some rambling last night on a sheet of paper. I'll spare you the majority of it.
in short:
- I burned out after grade 12. like, atmospheric reentry. One needs a 55% average to stay in at UBC. my current average is 55.5%.
- I dislike having to be the mature one in a house where the next oldest person is 1.5 times my age.
- I like blue.
- This design is changing soon. It'll be up on blogskins eventually.
now, for today.
I currently live here.
I'm moving here.
wo wo tonight, indeed. [download the song, skip to 1:15, and listen for a bit]
quiz thievery!
this one's the soundtrack of my life.
Opening Credits: Doves, Firesuite
Waking-up Scene: Radiohead, Myxomatosis (the first minute, anyway, before I hit the snooze button)
Average-day scene: Air, La Femme D'Argent
Best-friend scene: Arrogant Worms, Carrot Juice is Murder (or something equally silly)
First-date scene: Suraj Hua Madham, from Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham. (staying true to my roots, my first date would involve frolicking in the alps, the desert, and on a beach)
Falling-in-love scene: Coldplay, Ladder to the Sun
Love scene: The Beatles, I Want You (She's So Heavy)
Fight-with-friend scene: Radiohead, Life in a Glass House
Break-up scene: Gorillaz, Double Bass (letting the fight be seen and not heard)
Get-back-together scene: Kylie, In Your Eyes
"Life's okay" scene: Sigur Ros, Untitled 3
Heartbreak scene: Radiohead, Scatterbrain
Mental-breakdown scene: Radiohead, Wolf At The Door
Driving scene: Bob Dylan, Desolation Row
Lesson-learning scene: Bjork, Immature
Deep-thought scene: Doves, The Man Who Told Everything
Flashback scene: J5, Improvise
Party scene: Hideki Naganuma, Sweet Soul Brother (from Jet Grind Radio)
Happy dance scene: Pizzicato 5, One Two Three
Regret scene: Coldplay, Amsterdam
Long-night-alone scene: The Verve, Bittersweet Symphony
Death scene: Doves, Last Broadcast
Closing credits: Radiohead, India Rubber
right.
I should explain why this has me all panicky and strung out.
in my house, there's four of us.
My dad works at the post office, and is currently trying to start again in real estate. Thusly, he's not home a lot, and when he is, he's not inclined to do much aside from sitting around.
My mom does the majority of the cooking, moving organizational work and general homey stuff. Since school's been out, I've split (to the best of my ability) these chores with her.
My brother is broken. It's been a week since his shoulder was operated on, and he's well enough to go out, but not enough to be useful. If both arms worked, he'd barely be home.
So, once this whole surgery thing happens, who gets to carry the weight of a household?
It's looking like me, and I'm not terribly enthused.
oh, fucking wonderful.
"hey mom, what're we doing the weekend of July 12th?"
"I dunno. Don't think there's anything planned."
"Can I go to Calgary?"
[who/when/why omitted]
"We'll see."
"We'll see what?"
"I have back surgery on Monday."
...did I say things were getting better? It was probably just the eye of the storm.
new design, temporary fanboying because HTTT is out tomorrow, and I'll be too busy making copies (onto an MD, and mp3s for the computer.) to update it then.
tell me what you think - if there's enough positive response, then it'll stay like this, and the old design will go up on blogskins; if not, this one gets the boot.
father tinkle, would you sign please?
this really makes no sense unless you read the rest of the comic, which is something you should do. now.
I graduated a year ago today.
Funny, that. Doesn't feel like it's been a year.
Read through the annual I edited in the wee hours of last night - couldn't sleep between the heat and my brother's stereo thumping bass (imprecise and excessive) through the wall.
looked through the 280 people who crossed the stage; read their writeups. Realized that out of all 280, and the 28 who I'd had the majority of my classes with (minischool, y'know), I only really miss 6. Maybe 7.
so used to seeing them 5 days a week for 5 years, that the first year sort of passed without any realization.
of course, now that I'm stuck at home with the One-Armed B(r)other, this melancholy has to come along and kick me in the kidneys. No frogs, though.
spoke to my sister, she said that my brother-in-law might be able to get me a job doing midnight stocking (NOT stalking) for superstore.
finally got over my fear of being in the car with my brother - we tore down 41st in his Camaro, and I realized I was not in any way nervous. It started after car accident #3 - the really scary one in which my brother drove. I knew it wasn't his fault, but I was still jumpy as all hell in his car, so I did the rational thing: rode with him more often. At first, I spent large amounts of said car rides with my eyes closed, but things got better until today.
earlier today, I'm standing in Roger's Video, filling out an application for employment.
questions include the standard "why do you want to work for us", "why you", and "what brought you to us."
there was also one on my favorite movie (I said Bollywood/Hollywood, and I still can't quite figure out why).
the second to last question was "describe an event where you witnessed or experienced exceptional customer service."
having hermitted it up for the last little while didn't help; total and utter brain shutdown.
until, of course, I remembered this.
that was my shining example.
Graham, if I get that job, you'll probably find a couple more New Release credits on your card. or some sort of movie-based thanking.
stuff's been difficult as of late; my sister's father-in-law died, I can't seem to find a job, my mom's back is getting worse, my brother's shoulder requires surgery, we're moving to surrey, and all sorts of random other dumb shit.
I have, however, clung (rather stubbornly) to the belief that once I rode this out, things would get better.
I think it just started doing that.
got an email today from Sony of Canada - I half-expected it to be spam, because I'd entered a contest on their website - and of course, they wanted my email address - so I gave them the spare. I check it once, maybe twice weekly, and it's always overflowing with crap. Surprisingly, this wasn't more of the same.
Hello Gerald,
Congratulations on being selected to win one Net MD party package, each party
package consists the following prizes:
1 DJ headphone model number MDRV500DJ
1 USB speaker model number SRST100PC
5 mini discs
Thank-you for your participation in the Super Track Attack Contest!
Attached is the release form for the Net MD party package.
Please print, fill out and sign the release form. Please mail and fax the
completed release form by 5:00 PM EST Tuesday June 17, 2003 to the following:
Sony Style - Super Track Attack Contest
blah road
blah, ON
blah blah blah
Fax this release form also to (no number for you!), Attention: Sony Style - Super
Track Attack Contest .
<>
Your prize will be sent to you within 6 weeks of the receipt of your completed
mailed release form by Sony Style.
Have a great day!
Best regards,
Tammi
Sony Style Canada
customersupport@sonystyle.ca
(no number for you!)
Thank you for your continued interest in Sony products, and good luck!
Please feel free to contact us if you have any other questions.
as I walked a friend through her course planning (she's going into science next year), I realized I should probably start thinking about my own schedule.
so, here's what I'm sure about:
- PSYC 217/218
- 2 ENGL courses (I'm thinking Drama and Literature in the US)
- BIOL 121 (which I failed)
- CHEM 123 (the followup to the chem class that I failed, and am taking in july)
- VISA 180
- ANTH 100
that's 25 credits, and I need another 9 (to bring me up to 34).
suggestions?
two more things:
1) it's becoming more and more certain that we're moving to s(l)urrey. the only person with only real ties here is me, and as 18 years of experience have told me, I am very rarely considered when houses are chosen, if I am considered at all. (see also: 17.9 roomless years)
2) chris payne won't water the AUS plants (see comments box for our MSN conversation), so if someone else could, that'd be awesome.
I hate Indian weddings.
Marriage is wonderful, yes, but the inevitable stupidity that results from it make my head spin (figuratively).
So much so, in fact, that I started keeping a list of Laws of Indian Weddings just to keep myself amused.
1. Law of Ridiculous Family Size
When inviting people to your wedding, you must also include everyone they know, even if you don't know their names.
1a. Addendum
You don't invite people to your wedding. A crack team, led by your mother and aunts, sit around for half a day remembering [obscure cousin's] mother-in-law's sister's husband's brother's friends name, so that they can invite them.
2. Law of Inverse Simplicity
No matter how simple a task seems, it will become mind numbingly complex.
ex: the wedding I was at last night had three different sets of party favors - one set for tables at the front, one for tables at the back, and candles for people with gifts.
3. Law of Endless Workloads
The more you have to do, the more you are given to do.
4. The Celebrity Rule
The less you are seen, the more people want to see you.
5. The Law of Inverse Ability
The better you are at something, the less likely you are to do said thing.
6. The Lost Children Law
Whenever you really, really have to be somewhere/do something, someone's child will be lost, and approach you for help.
6a. The Vomit Addendum
If your clothes are new or difficult to clean, chances are you will get vomited on while attempting to help said children.
6b. The Parent Addendum
Once the child is returned to its parents, they will be far too busy berating the child to thank you, let alone acknowledge your existence.
7. Indian Standard Time
No matter what time you write down, the majority of people will show up one to two hours later.
7a. People You Don't Like Addendum
People you don't like, however, will be on time, and annoyingly helpful, making you like them less, so that they show up earlier the next time.
that's all for now - post more in the comments if you can think of 'em.
couple micro-updates: Jayme's been sucked in.
something else has changed, but I'll leave that to you to find out.
headphone moment:
listening to "everything's not lost" live from montreal, and I hear the person in the row behind the taper sneeze.
I don't realize this, of course, so I say "gesundheit" to my brother, who occupies roughly where I heard the sneeze coming from.
He looks at me funny, then I go back about ten seconds, and feel like a bit of a fool.
whee!
so I could've gone to the coldplay show.
I could've spent my elections clerk money (thanks, owen!) and bought floor seats
I could be going, next friday, to see my first concert (where I'm not staff), a band who I enjoy immensely.
But I'm not.
Because I didn't.
For a wedding, where I would be the photographer.
But I'm not.
Because they hired someone. (fair enough, it's your wedding)
But they did not think to tell me.
So, next Friday, I will be stuck for approximately six hours at an Indian wedding, being very angry, and masking it.
Masking it like I have to - it is a wedding, and it's not important, right?
Right?
Wrong.
But there's nothing I can do.
I can't skip the wedding (what would people say? asks my mother; what does it matter? is my response)
I can't afford tickets like the ones I would've had.
So, next Friday, I will be stuck for approximately six hours at an Indian wedding, being very angry, and masking it.
If someone gets married on the 31st of August...
fuck 'em. I'm busy.
Reorganized the links to the left - a couple new people and places to visit.
Wigu, Scary Go Round, and Return to Sender are all webcomics, and Mocking Horse Improv is something you have to go to on a Saturday night...
additionally, does anyone want to recommend another blog provider, or hook me up with a LiveJournal (or somesuch) account code? blogspot seems to be horribly mauling my archives, and this makes me a sad panda.
[UPDATE: I fixed it.]
holy shit I'm evil.
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | High |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | Very High |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Very High |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Very High |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Extreme |
| Level 7 (Violent) | Extreme |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Very High |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | High |
TEEN LINGO: The Source for Youth Ministry
read now.
thank me later, or I'ma bust a cap in yo' grill.
did I say that right?
this person is a genius.
genius, continued
you can tell I'm bored at home tonight.
I am not prepared for a summer this long.
last night was a lot of fun, and even though I don't expect it to happen weekly, or even monthly, going to the beach with a load of friends, some alcohol (in recycling bins full of ice) and a guitar is stupid amounts of fun.
...as if on cue, "the scientist" just started.
in any case, here's my Summer Non-Plan, in no real order.
1) find a job. or two.
2) start learning to play either drums or guitar. I'm leaning towards guitar, because I have no way of fitting a drum kit anywhere in this house, and I doubt I'll get space in the new one (if we're staying in SE Vancouver).
3) get into more music. britrock is cool, but I'd like to expand. So far, I've found that I like d&b (among other things), but I have no clue where to start.
4) buy bootlegging gear, most likely this, and some sort of microphone + battery box deal.
5) do the radiohead roadtrip with sean & aleks. highly unlikely, given my parents, but it might be worth a try.
6) bootleg concerts from #5, using gear from #4.
7) pick up a martial art.
8) get my N.
9) figure out if I want to keep the Cavalier, or take my brother's setup out of it, polish that fucker up, and get something else.
more as they come to me, I guess.
thoughts and suggestions are, as always, welcome.
