Tag Archives: PT

“If you spray me and I’m not on fire I’ve giving you to the community college.”

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We had the police in at work today. In an unofficial capacity. You see, we had a techie come in to upgrade one of our systems. (I’m not important enough to know the details. :D ) And in the process of doing so, he set off our tamper alarm. We continued as per normal, ignoring the high-pitched siren that was emanating from the secure room where he was locked in with the senior cashier. After about twenty minutes of this, a very confused off-duty RCMP Officer poked his head in the door. “Do you, uh, hear that alarm?” So the other cashiers laughed at him and sent him away. :D Just a normal day in your local friendly financial institution! (Interestingly, my reaction to alarms has gone down significantly since spending time at McWork. I just blink at them.)

Ah, and yesterday I had my first ever conference call! It was magical! Actually, it wasn’t quite magical, but it was quite fun. The lady facilitating the training call was from Winnipeg, and everyone else was from Ontario. After about twenty minutes of general conversation we were told to preface our statements with our names, since we all had similar voices. Then she retracted that order, saying that Ali, (who moved to Toronto from Iran five years ago), and I (who apparently has a strong Newfoundland accent), wouldn’t need to state our names. Mainlanders. :D  
Yesterday PT stopped by on his way to visit grandparents on the mainland. He and the Walrus are going out to help out for two weeks. Regrettably, I was at work all day. But I consoled myself with watching Ironman. Which is a good movie. A very good movie. My oh my. Everyone and their uncle, it seems, had been watching it and raving about it, so I had to preorder it on itunes so that I could watch it at the first available legal day. That was not even an option, really. (I sense disapproval oozing from those among us who do not have access to a theatre and are not fond of that fact, so I will qualify my previous assertion and say that everyone and their uncle who live in or near a city watched it and told me to watch it.) And it was awesome. Did I say that already? 
And I want Mr. Stark’s computer. Actually, I want his whole house, but that computer is amazing to the nth power. *stares at it* For those who are gearheads- you know who you are- it is worth it to watch the movie just for the computer. And if you’re a gearhead and don’t know it, this movie will show you. Also the dialogue is marvelous, as are the characters, the cinematography is lovely, the effects are beond cool, and the plot makes me happy, but the computer rocks my socks. *writes fanfiction about the computer* :P
Now I need to go fold some laundry so I can jury-rig some more sudo-professional outfits. Valeo!

“Dr. Who did not help that experience to be more reassuring.”

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Day: 5
Date: 22/07/08
Event: Hollywood Studios

This experience is very fun, but my tendency towards cynicism in not lessening. In Epcot there is a general feeling of Quality to the structures, or at least of solidity. But Here the whole idea is that it is movie sets, so it all rings slightly false. :D Hah! I mean, false even after the significant suspension of disbelief required for a theme park. :P

We started the day with Star Tours; a Star Wars Themed ride. It was quite fun, but we realised afterwards that Slonner and Walrus have not seen the movies, which made it slightly incomprehensible for them. They still enjoyed it, however, so all was not lost. After emergence from that ride, we were off to meet Lightening McQueen!

This was the thing Gid actually wished for. And I don’t know- when you have a 4 year-old palliative patient who has had a rush wish (which means he doesn’t have a lot of time,) come to visit, wouldn’t you try to do something special for him? A meeting in Lightning’s Garage? Five minutes uninterrupted? A sticker pack? That was what I was expecting. What we got was jumped to the front of the line to get our picture taken with Lighting and Mater. Two minutes, tops, in the middle of the public square, with other people crowding in for their turn, and music blaring.

Now, Gid was still delighted. When I asked later what he did today he said that “I saw Lightening and Mater- and touched them!” I, on the other hand, wanted to punch something. Hard. Broken glass and blood, please. Bah, I believed the Disney propaganda, which is always a dangerous thing. I’ve just got a jaded soul and Gid is so cute it hurts. I was holding him while we were waiting for Lightning, and he is so thin. Such delicate hands. His eyes are huge, and when he grins he’s infused with happiness. You beam to look at him. Mommy bought him Lightning McQueen shoes last night, and he was delighted with the. And the thing with Gid is that when you use words like “delight,” “joy,” and “beam,” it is the perfect truth. Even with all he’s been through, he is so full of life and happiness. My little brother is an amazing little boy. I wish I could see the man he would be. I have been truly blessed to be his big sister for 4 years.

[Here I broke off to bawl in the bathroom for 10 minutes]

Anyhow, the day. We went on a number or other rides, but probably the most noteworthy were the Tower of Terror and Rocking Roller Coaster. The Tower of Terror, because of the, (yes,) terror it inspired. The title is my reaction after we staggered out. The Rocking Roller Coaster is worthy of note because of its truly impressive wait line. ToT was fun, I’ll say, but I have no interest in doing it again. Been there, done that, sneered at the t-shirt. Seriously, why are all the good snarky t-shirts in guy’s sizes only? Even if perchance they have an acceptable design, it’s on a pink background!

I don’t do pink. I am the anti-pink. Pink is against my beliefs. So why do half of all female t-shirts have to be on that accursed colour? *bites a pillow* This is me, not impressed.

And on the subject of t-shirts, Fraulein and I noticed a distinguishing feature of Brazilian girls while in the interminable line for the RRC. There are a lot of groups of teenage tours from Brazil, all with official t-shirts. And the girls, almost without fail, have modified their shirts. The modifications range from “falling off the shoulder,” to “sleeveless,” to “bikini top.” I didn’t know you could fashion a bikini out of a t-shirt, but these girls manage it.

Overall, today was another very fun day, and I’m becoming acclimatised and accustomed, but I don’t think I’d fork out my own money for another ticket.

We’re in the SYSTEM now!

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Day: 4
Date: 21/07/08
Event: Epcot

Disney is pretty much the embodiment of wildly successful capitalism. 47 square miles of wildly successful capitalism. Not that it’s not warranted, mind you. Today was kind of our test-day, to see ho our other days will be organised. And it was very fun.

After getting through the gates, (which required a fingerprint scan, (for Homeland Security? No one knows.)) We split up into two group. Mommy, Daddy and the small ones in one group, and Slonner, PT, Walrus, Fraulein and I in another. As we’re the oldest, we’re sometimes refereed to as the G5, and we were unleashed on the unsuspecting theme park! *evil laugh* We commenced a detailed and carefully considered planning session.

“What’s that golf ball?”
“I think it’s a ride?”
“Wanna go on it?”
“Sure!”
*enters the line for Spaceship Earth*

In fact, that was the best line experience of our day. We were in the official queue for approximately 2 minutes before we were taken aside and let in the exit. Aren’t we special? *preens* There was on spot on the “time travel” ride when we saw Michelangelo painting the Sistine chapel, with an Alleluia playing, and I got hit rather hard with a wave of homesickness for Augustine. I never thought I’d miss music class, but that time has arrived! :D Then we got stuck up at the top. PT spotted a pair of legs sticking out form under a car, so he was either fixing it, or we’re run over him and they were bringing up the body bag. It was dark; who knows?

Anyhow, fired with enthusiasm at our short line wait, we headed over to Test Track. 50minutes later, we got on the ride. I guess not all park employees are as zealous to give special treatment! I should explain at this point, that we were told, as a wish family, that we wouldn’t have to wait in lines. :D *shrug*

By the time we emerged form there, it was time for lunch. Whereupon we went to Morocco! For those not familiar with Epcot, it has 11 “international showcases,” which ostensibly represent Canada, UK, France, Morocco, Japan, US, Italy, Germany, China, Norway and Mexico. We lunched at Morocco, including some truly incredible coffee.

I have absolutely no inclination to close my eyes.

Then we did all the other countries. Well, not the US or France, but those hardly count, right? *ducks*

Among the G5, it was agreed that Japan, Germany, Morocco and UK, were the best, with Japan being “The place I most wish I had money for.” I almost bought a Kimono, as they were SOOO pretty, but by the time I would have bought one that wasn’t rayon, with the proper accoutrement, I could easily have spent $200. Therefore I decided to wait for my trip to Japan, which will happen someday! Why wait? Because I would certainly wear it on the street, and it would keep the cringe factor down if I didn’t have to say I bought it at Disney. So I bought Slonner a Parasol instead.

Then we went on the most successful ride of the day, which was Mission: SPACE. We were waved into the Fastpass line, but I’m still not sure if that was due to the Wish Uniform we were wearing or not. Anyhow, I tend to like anything vaguely space-related, and the ride its self was pretty awesome, so it was a general hit.

And now my legs are very tired. I don’t usually get to where it hurts to more. At last count, that took a walk of 15 km. So we walked at least that. Oh, and after the small ones were in bed, we went to a MASSIVE Wal-mart. Truly, this takes superstore to a whole new level.

Most of the time I don’t know what is an average price for Clothing, or shoes, or even media. But one thing I am very certain of is the average price of chocolate; and the bars at checkout were only 60% of the prices we get at home. Even with the exchange, that is still a significant benefit to the American shopper. I mean, no wonder the American students were aghast at Canadian Prices!

And one last discovery. I need to work on feeling more secure in public places. If I’m walking around in a basic state of insecurity, wanting only to retreat to my room, that tends to defeat the purpose of travel, no? Or maybe I can just go where there is an absence of crowds. :P

Can we go ride the train? Can we?

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Day: 2
Date: 19/07/08
Event: To Toronto

We made it to the mainland! The little girls went from exclaiming over the size of the St. John’s airport and begging to ride the elevator- to riding a monorail between terminals in Toronto and swimming in the pool, (which is part of the hotel (which is part of the airport)). I think they’re having a good time.

We had breakfast in the St. John’s hotel this morning, which for our family costs a whopping $100.00, and headed off to the airport. The lady at the check-in was rather surprised to see that among 12 people only 5 piece of luggage were checked, but what can I say? We’re a special family. We also almost all managed to be carrying gels or liquids in our carry-ons, so we had to pull the convoy over and repack the lip balm, toothpaste, etc. But everyone made it through check-in and security without incident-

and then Gid dropped his boarding his pass down the heating vent. Hmmmmmm…. Thankfully Daddy worked his usual wonders in convincing people behind counters, and a new boarding pass was printed for him. *sigh of relief*

The actual flight was pleasantly uneventful. And far from being Delayed, we arrived 10 minutes early! We were flying Air Canada, so I was, understandably I think, skeptical of that happening. On the flight I watched Vantage Point, which was a very enjoyable movie. However, there was a large enough body count that I don’t think I’d watch it at home. But it was good. I just especially liked the little news blurb at the end, which was entirely not what had happened. *glee* My devious soul was pleased within me.

Once we had landed the pilots of the plane allowed all the little ones, and even the big ones of our family to sit in the cockpit and pose for pictures. But that thrill was almost overshadowed by the sheer magnitude of Toronto Airport. Moving sidewalks! Massive Hallways! Escalators! Baggage carousals! And- the biggest thrill- a monorail train to our hotel. I think we were all thrilled with that train. And I want one for my own. It was all futuristic glass and private compartments, zipping over highways and parking garages. There wasn’t even a driver, it was completely automated. *wistful sigh*

Right. Yes. *cough* So, we checked into the hotel, which is quite sumptuous, and scouted out the terminal next door. Was this just an excuse to ride the train? Um, yes. :P However, we did find a little food court which we then returned to, with Daddy and the money, for supper.

I am writing this by the side of the pool, as the official Adult which allows my non-adult siblings to swim. I was a spoilsport and didn’t swim. :D Now the young ones are going up to bed, and PT, Fraulein and myself are going to ride the train again and check out the bustling Toronto night life. (We’re going to the food court for Frozen Yogurt.)

Ciao!

That’s the thing about living…

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Several things of note have happened since I last posted. My brother PT was home for the weekend, which was lovely. We watched Stranger than Fiction, which I would watch again, and Nacho Libre, which I wouldn’t. :D No, it wasn’t that bad, just, not my cuppa tea. The American version of “humiliate the main character” humour is not something I find funny most of the time. I say American, because I find Fawlty Towers hilarious, and Chef (the first episodes), and that humour is not the gentle kind, I’m afraid. Anyhow, I also loved the special effect at the beginning of STF, where Harold’s life is being narrated, and white explanatory symbols keep popping up while he does things. Hmmm, that was a stunningly bad description. If you’ve seen it, hopefully you’ll know what I’m talking about.

So that was the weekend. Then on Sunday Mommy and Daddy and Gideon went to St. John’s for Gideon’s assessment. If the drug was working, they would continue treatment, and be back on Saturday. However, they came back on Monday evening. The drug wasn’t working. It was the last treatment option. So as soon as they came through the front door, I knew what had happened. It’s funny. This doesn’t come as a surprise, but it still hits very hard. The world feels curiously unreal, so that I’m not quite sure how people and things will react this time. I suppose that is from the fact that some people do react differently to me, and also since death is such an incomprehensible thing. What was that quote? “Death is an insult to life. We rage against the cessation of existence.” So when it is obviously inevitable, and previously known, the foundations which direct your actions are shaken ever so slightly.

My mind has been working constantly since Monday evening. It’s as though I have about four levels of thought going on at any one time, and as soon as one is resolved I fall through into another one. Yes, if there was any doubt about how I react to emotion, it’s rapidly disappearing. I analyze. Given that I’m also rather tired from work, I don’t necessarily analyze very efficiently, but still I pull apart my reactions and look at them from new angles all day.

Its interesting. From my past experiences, some things which would really freak out other people I can view completely sanguine. For example, I can look at the spectre of living without hot water, or lights, or an oven, without undue distress. I mean, I would grumble, but still, I know it’s perfectly doable. If my dad was to say tomorrow that we were moving across the country, or out of the county, next week, I would be excited and looking forward to the new place. This is probably due to the fact that I had my first cross-continental move at 6 weeks of age, and my first intercontinental move when I was two. By my family always came along. Even when I moved out on my own I knew what was happening at home to an extant.

But the death of a family member is something completely outside of my experience, and it’s weird. You have to keep living, without them. WEIRD. The doctors say that we won’t have him for Christmas. He won’t see his fifth birthday. Not learn to read. Not have kids. Not be taller than me. Not… Oh my. But the Doctors have also said that they will give him the finest drugs out there, and it won’t be painful for him. Not everyone is so lucky, I suppose. I do believe that God has this ordained. Gideon’s cancer did not take place because God looked away for a moment, or Satan won the coin toss. It was planned, and Gideon has lived and will live the exact life that was laid out for him. And he has a happy life, despite the needles and procedures. He’s a lovely cheerful boy, though I won’t get to introduce him to my classmates, I guess. I’m rambling. :D no good to hover in that line of thought. Okay.

Anyhow, one of the things that has changed in the plans is that Gideon’s Wish is taking place at the end of this month. He wants to ride Snot Rod, from cars, so we’ll probably go to Disney World. The details are being finalised today, actually. I was voting for Disneyland, in the hope that I could meet up with Third World somewhere, (It’s only a 13 hour drive. NOTHING! :D ) but it appears that my devious plots will not come to fruition. I guess, since it’s supposed to be family thing, I shouldn’t go gallivanting off to meet my friends, but come on! It’s THIRD WORLD! :D

Oh, one more thing before I go. As we’ll be going out of country for the wish, we all have to have current passports. So we’ve been filling out forms madly, and on Tuesday we went into Gander to have out pictures taken. On the way out of town, my carload received a phone call from Daddy. The photographer at Wal-mart had just called, and we weren’t allowed to wear white, black, or sleeveless shirts for our picture. (No one knows why…) This is where things started going pear shaped, since I was wearing a white shirt.

Once we get to Wal-mart, the photographer lady informs us that my shirt is indeed white, not cream, as I was hoping, and I would have to find another shirt. Cue me descending on the markdown racks. I grab five shirts whose colours I like, and dash off to the changing rooms. Of the five summer shirts, four were cut low enough, that, let’s just say that they were showing skin that never sees the light of day. Just basic summer tops, too. Odd. But the fifth was decent, and it had some kind of strange ribbing on the shoulder and neck. I looked at it and thought it looks kind of deviantart-ish. Sea nymph webbing style. I’ll take it! And yes, most of the clothing I own that I really like was chosen for its character inspiration qualities. For example, I am currently wearing my assassin shirt. :D But Fraulein said that it looks medieval, and nice, so fear not!

I buy the shirt, and arrive at the photographer, after quick-changing in the bathroom. I sit down on the stool, and the photographer starts to have a hard time getting the camera to work. She, with a grin, says that the camera just doesn’t like me. I grin in response, and the picture is finally taken. On the way back in the car, Mommy and I realise that she spoke truth in more ways than one. That was a BAD picture. Incredibly bad. I mean, I never need fear that I will look worse that my passport photo. I could be totally hungover and I’ll still look fresh and alert next to that picture. It takes bad to a whole new level. The nice new shirt is hardly visible, and every trick of the light works against me to open up a new realm of awful.

Oh, you say, it can’t be that bad.

It can.

I look like a sleazy drug addict. Greasy stringy hair; check. Unsteady posture; check. Glazed eyes that don’t quite line up; check. (I had to take off my glasses, and couldn’t really see the camera.) Nasty molestache; check. Unnatural pallor; check. Bad skin; check. Shadows under the eyes; check.

This is not a good photo.

And I live with it for five years…

This is the test of true character; if you can not loose it while they unload the plane.

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I’m back on the Rock!

The whole trip went amazingly smoothly. (and now we discover what I call a “smooth” flight.)

I am definitely flying West Jet if I possibly can in the future. RM drove me out to the airport, and I checked in, and then found that my carry on was too heavy. They’re topped off at 22lbs, and mine was 17 overweight. Heh heh heh. So I repacked in the airport lobby, borrowing a nice lot of tape, and then promenaded off to my gate with a very light bag. Security went smooth as silk, and the flight its self was unremarkable. Though the couple in the seat next to me DID hold hands for the entire trip, which was kind of interesting.

Anyhow, I landed in Halifax, waited a while got on the plane, waited while they loaded more bags, (this delayed us 30 minutes), and landed in St. John’s! The flight was one that had come form Edmonton, and it was mainly full of people who had been in their seats since 6am in Edmonton. When we landed in Newfoundland at 11:10 local time, all the seat belts opened in about 2 seconds. SnapsnapsnapsnapsnapsnapSTANDUP. That was where my title came from- an overheard comment from the back of the plane.

PT and Daddy were there to meet me, which was very jolly. PT had to go straight back to his house, but it was excellent to see him again. He’s such a man. :P Then Daddy and I went to the hotel he and Mommy rent while in St. John’s, and I passed out. There was a breif interlude where I tried to keep from tossing around and disturbing Daddy, but then I gave that up as hopeless and conked out.

5 hours later we were up and headed to the Janeway to see Gid and Mommy. Mommy had spent the night with Gid, by the by. It was very good to see them both, and then I got on the bus to Home! My parents are awesome, pretty much. *glee*

So, I pretty much went into a coma for the bus ride, and then on arriving I took a taxi home. It was funny, since the Taxi driver knew me by sight from when I worked at Tim Hortons 2 years ago, and he knew where I wanted to go without being asked. I’m back in my ain Countrie!

And… the library is closing. (the internet is down at home) Write more later, I shall.

“Reality, dude. Get some.”

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Another Alumnus, a certain Matt, came by for Breakfast today. Alison, who’s from the same year that he attended, came as well, and much hilarity ensued. I decided that I needed to work on improving my memory, and so I took note of the following quotes in honour of Moon Unit and Third World. *weeps*

Alison: (talking about Emily’s egg puffs) They’re cool cause they’re just the kind of thing you can bring in the car in the morning. Kinda hot and greasy though.
Matt: (in a high pitched voice) Like me!
Alison: Were you talking for me or you there?
Matt: Draw your own conclusions

Alison: Have you seen “Sweet Home Alabama?”
Matt: Do I look like a girl? No-
Me: You’re wearing pink.

Emily: (Talking about a boy’s really flowery prose style) It’s like his writing’s in drag!

Emily: Man, that Chaucer looks bubonic!

Matt: You’re making it your objective to destroy every ounce of propriety I have, aren’t you.
Emily: No, we know you don’t actually have any. We’re just tearing down the artifice.

Matt: (after Alison made a face at him) Excellent rebuttal.

Then after they left I went for a walk in the rain. Just in case that sounds really morbid, I hasten to say that I like rain, honestly! I think I’m getting my walking skills back, because I was able to go quite a distance. I headed up to Parliament, as per my brother PT’s advice, but unfortunately you had to pay for a tour, and I was really not in the mood to wander around alone. So I took the long way home, stopping in at Zellers to buy a wicked hat. It was half price, and actually fits me! (it’s a black pinstriped fedora, and now I will say no more about it. )

As I think I mentioned before, it’s raining. I have also heard that it is supposed to snow tomorrow. At this point, I actually find that hilarious. However, I really think that, given my druthers, I would prefer to be stuck in actually in transit, not just stalled before even getting on the plane, as happened over Christmas. Hopefully I at least get off the ground tomorrow.

I was running through the pictures on my camera before I went out, deleting the bad ones, and I found a bunch of shots I had taken on Saturday. I made a total nuisance of myself that morning in my constant firing away of pictures, but I got some good shots. Really, it’s just cause they are of my lovely former house mates that I love them. I had somehow forgotten that those pics were in the memory card, and I came a hair’s breadth away from bawling over my camera.

I’ve only actually cried the once since people started leaving- I don’t cry easily- but there is a pain in my chest, and I find it hard to breath when thinking of several of my classmates. Lamd, Swinger (also know as the Pun master :) , Moon Unit, and Third World, I miss you. Enjoy yourself, you hear? And maybe I’ll get shunted out your way while traveling. You never know! I’m packing my passport, just in case. :D

“What you should be worrying about… is your Eyebrows!”

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I’ll just say, the weather here is marvelous. I went through a couple of days of feeling not at all comfortable without a chill in the air, or a coat on, but now I’ve remembered what warm weather is like. Such a strange thing. *shakes head*

I’ll be flying home on next Tuesday- West Jet. Yes, I took an extra two days in Ottawa, including a day when I am the only student left in the College, in an effort to avoid flying Air Canada. Here is the plan of my time in the intervening space.

  • to do:
    • Monday
      • Move Computer files to Portable hard Drive
      • Write thank you letter for College
      • pack shipping boxes
    • Tuesday
      • Deep-clean house
    • Wednesday
      • Lord of the Rings Marathon!
    • Thursday
      • oral exam
    • Friday
      • Mailing boxes and Sally Ann
    • Saturday
      • Grad
    • Sunday
      • church
    • Monday
      • donate blood
    • Tuesday
      • Fly home

Looks doable, no? *nods* I can do this! Oh, and sometime in there, I need to do some birthday present acquisition for the four brothers who are having birthdays in my absence. Right. “You know I’m a poor student who has no conception of money?….”

[note: navel-gazing type musings follow. read at your own risk.]
And on a completely different tack, Third World, Moon Unit and I were discussing public school and its probable effect on us. We pretty much agreed that Moon Unit and Third World would have been the same people had they gone through Public School, but that I wouldn’t be the same. Quote: “You’d either be a total follower, or completely outcast.” I agree, really. I could see myself going in about 8 different directions, none of them positive. In thinking about this, I had two reactions, one positive and one, not.

On the one hand, I’m really glad that my parents kept me out of Public School for that reason. While it would have been interesting to see how I turned out, it would be interesting in about the same way that it is interesting to see what colours of mold grow on the unidentifiable things in the back of the fridge. Sick fascination.

On the other hand, the not-so-positive one, it doesn’t make me very confident for the future. Oh joy, I have so little of my own personality that I can’t be trusted to go out in public. My powers of self-delusion seem to be exceptional. What if I was to go to a College or University outside of the house? Would I lose myself then too? Do I even have my own personality, or am I such a social chameleon that I just take on the interests of the people I’m surrounded by? (protective coloring, right.) Will I EVER be able to stand on my own?

I don’t see it being much of an issue once I return home, cause, in all honesty, I really don’t see the potential for friends outside of my family. The high schoolers in my small town are all scared of me anyways, and they’re all obsessed with topics I mercifully am not interested in; namely, high school marks and the high school drama of the moment. People over High school age are either gone off to university, and therefore in a higher social bracket than I, or moving in crowds where I have no experience and don’t want any. The hard-drinking Fort Mac crowd? No, thank you. I don’t even know most of the words, much less how to communicate. :P That leaves people over the age of 30, who are nice to me, but not really friends, and my family. Moreover, my brother PT has now moved out on his own, which cuts my social scene significantly. Seriously significantly. If you include my parents, it cuts it by a quarter.

Okay, maybe I’m being overly pessimistic. Who knows, maybe there’ll be some interesting, intelligent, safe, and not-scared-of-me people near my age in town when I get back. Or maybe I’m drawing the lines too thick, and I can be friends with people who I already am acquainted with. Or maybe I’ll just have friends online for the foreseeable future.

My, but I’m not looking forward to leaving Third World and Moon Unit. I do think I am myself with them, whoever that is. {Totally insane, and likes books!} Moon Unit has been going home on weekends so I’m partially used to her not being here, but Third World and I have been basically in each other’s constant company since January. *cries* I hung out with RM a lot last term, but she started moving on to other friends in November, and even earlier we didn’t do much together: Baking and talking, and occasional Latin. Third World and I wrote novels together, for heaven’s sake. I haven’t had such a close friend who I wasn’t related to since I was 6. Bah, why does Oregon have to be 5.5 time zones and another country away anyways? For goodness sake, the nearest people I would be able to visit, (those who make it to St. X’s in Cape Breton) would be at least 500 dollars to even get to the mainland, and then you have accommodation and food costs. Bah humbug.

Yeah, so, the weather here is nice, I’m having a low grade identity crisis, am I even a person? I’m not looking forward to splitting up from my friends, and aside from those minor stresses, and the family members who are hospitalized, I’m doing fine.

I just have to remember, I can’t see the future. I can always make what’s coming seem bleaker than it actually is. Even when it’s worse than I foresaw, it’s always easier to bear than I think it will be.

Right, I can’t see the future.

Just breathe.

All I want to do, is be more like me, and be less like you.

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The sun is shining off the snow into my window, and I’m in a good mood. I tell you, calling home is a great invention.*laughs* In my last few calls home, I’ve found out an interesting piece of information regarding one of my siblings each time.

  1. First I found that PT is probably going to Dubai
  2. Then I found that Frauline is possible going to England for a Girl Guide trip.
  3. Now I find that my little brother Trapezoid (age 12) has joined Cadets, and just went to a dance.
  4. next time? (something about Slonner?)

(for those who don’t know, that’s descending order of age. I’m the oldest, followed by PT, Frauline, etc. )
I’m all grin-ny.

I’ve really been feeling stunningly incompetent recently; noticing my complete inability to manage money, manage my time, and behave in social situations… Don’t you love it when you realize that you either annoy, frighten, disgust or amuse the people around you? I know I do.

But I’m better now. ALSO, I didn’t do anything other than skip a few meals in three weeks, so I feel proud of myself. HA! Take THAT! *waves hands wildly*

Now Reading Week has begun. I have a vague idea of what I’m doing for my papers, and I’m making waffles tomorrow. It’s good.

Oh, I love this quote. It’s from the intro to Rich Mullin’s Higher Education and the Book of Love. No, I love parts of this quote, which I have included here. Some other bits, not so much…

What does it mean to be human?
What does it mean to be human?
I cannot help but suspect
that at one time in the history of thinking
that people believed that it meant
that we were spiritual
that we could make choices
and were capable of aspiring to higher ideals
like maybe loyalty
or maybe faith
or maybe even love

But now we are told by people who think they know
that we vary from amoeba
only in the complexity of our makeup
and not what we essentially are

[...]

They would have us see ourselves as products
so that we could believe we were something to be made
something to be used
and then something to be disposed of
used in their wars
used for their games
and then set aside for we get in their way
well
who are they?

[...]

What does it mean to be human?
I cannot help but believe
that it means that we are spiritual
that we are responsible
and that we are free
that we are responsible
to be free

Anyways, better go do some of my work. *grand bow*

“I pass the test”

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In the past few days, I’ve found out that my sister Frauline is possibly going on a trip to England, and by brother the Piano Tech, aka PT, is possibly going to Dubai. Dubai! That is so cool! *dances in a circle, grinning madly* “

See those people, those people over there? I’m related to them!”

Also my presentation subject for Dr. Patrick is quite interesting, (Language Games, specifically acquisition and syntax). This is good, given that I may present it on Tuesday. I had resolved to present it before Reading Week, thinking that meant next week. However, I recently looked at the calender and realized I was off by a week. *sheepish* I still really want to get it done before Reading Week, but I’m not quite sure if I can pull it together in time.

*hears Winston Churchill in back of head, “Never surrender”*

I’ll see what I can do. Dr. Patrick is a scary professor to give work to, cause you’re never quite sure what he expects. I was cringing madly over the paper I turned in during December, but then I got an A-. And I was expecting to fail, it seemed so flimsy. Maybe he’ll have mercy on my lack of scientific knowledge?

In other news, I’m making a rhubarb crumble, as my craving finally overrode my distaste at Paying for rhubarb. Also, we’re going to the symphony tomorrow.