A series of letters and lists, to make life complete:

Dear sweater,

I do not understand what exactly you’re doing, or why you don’t look exactly like the picture even when I follow the directions you are giving me, but I will continue knitting you because you’re cute, knit up quickly, and in the end, aren’t that complicated.

Dear life,

Please stop becoming so stressful and complicated. I appreciate that you want me to be busy, and I understand that ultimately, it is my own fault that things are as crazy as they are, but really, I didn’t ask for all of this. Please slow down so that I could.

Dear co-op housing people,

Please call more often than once every blue moon. I would like to understand how you can say you want us in for April 1st, but take over a week to call me after I submit my application, then almost another week to call me after you cancel our original appointment, even though you said you’d call the next day or a day later. Please understand that the Smooshy and I cannot necessarily meet you six or seven hours later in the same day, just because it is convenient for you. My schedule is fairly flexible, but his is not, and you are the ones who want both of us there, which I do understand.

Dear professors,

Thank you for finally returning my calls and emails. I understand that you are busy people, especially now, and I appreciate that you have time to meet me. It is vaguely frustrating to have to leave my job early twice this week and come in late (possibly) on another day to accommodate this, but I will do so, because the university has decreed it necessary for me to suddenly sign on with a research supervisor and thesis subject a full year before I planned to start, some five or six months before your original deadline, and at least six months before I thought I had to have everything finalized in my head, let alone paperwork.

Dear university,

Fuck you. You tried to fuck me in my undergrad, but I wouldn’t let you. Now, you’re trying to fuck me in my grad, and it looks as though you may succeed. I’m watching you, and I’m somewhat pleased that you don’t offer a PhD program, because I wouldn’t want to take it there anyways.

Dear me,

1. Enjoy the fact that you will have a motorcycle out and on the road this weekend.
2. Remember to call the local centre to have the bike checked out and fixed, where required.
3. Pay your bills.
4. Put money in your Royal account for your debt and your mom.
5. Have gift finished at least 2 weeks before the wedding.
6. Attend all wedding-related events wherever schedule allows.
7. Assist in planning of non-tame bachelorette party, should schedule allow.
8. Try to resist counting down to April 10th. At least, pretend you’re not.
9. Meet with professors: 1 down, 2 to go. Avoid begging, it’s unprofessional.
10. Turn in all related paperwork before April 7th.
11. Avoid killing professor.
12. Put together draft paper for Wednesday, March 29th.
13. Meet with classmates to create powerpoint slides for presentation on April 5th.
14. Submit first final paper for April 5th.
15. Present first final paper for April 5th.
16. Write up justification, *grounded in science*, for second final paper, for April something.
17. Submit second final paper, group exercise, for April14th (may be me submitting, may not).
18. Remember to breathe.

Dear work,

Why are you getting busy now, after so long where you weren’t? While I appreciate the thought and the effort, ohmygod I already have a lot on my mind. But that’s okay, it keeps me from wishing I could use the plastic knife I have here to slit my wrists. Or someone else’s.

Dear weight,

Please go away. While the Smooshy may appreciate the fact that my butt apparently wiggles when I sneeze naked, I’m not sure I do.

Dear sweet tooth,

You and I have been friends and enemies for a long time. I think we need to start seeing other people, though.

Dear motivation,

Please arrive soon.

Dear sex drive,

I miss you.


Proving once more that I am, beneath it all, a heartless human being, the abandoned kitten in Trainspotting seemed to affect me more than the dead baby. I was actually surprised that the baby survived as long as it did, and didn’t have much sympathy for the addicts when it died.

I did, however, feel bad for Tommy’s character; he had a bad break, and it wasn’t his fault in the least.


So, I’m back from the east coast, and after all the rush and panic that took place to make sure I had everything ready before I’d left, you’d think things would’ve calmed down a little now, right? Hah.

Let’s list the things I was trying to arrange before I left:
1. Finish my paper (which was due, via email, on the 20th).
2. Wait for co-op housing company to call me back to arrange for our interview.
3. Wait for professors 2 and 3 to call me back so that I could have a supervisor registered (and now professor 4, since I’ve just emailed a new person).
4. Have my annual physical with my GP.
5. Try to finish the wedding gift for my cousin.

I’m sure there are other things, but we’ll get to those.

Here’s how the journey unfolded, in brief:

Thursday, March 16: Fly into Nova Scotia for approximately 9:30 p.m., local time. Drive to friend of the family’s house in Dartmouth, via rental car, to spend the night.
Friday, March 17: Pick up sister in Halifax after she finishes work. Drive to Quispamsis, New Brunswick, to stay with maternal grandparents.
Saturday, March 18: Cousin’s wedding. Attend.
Sunday, March 19: Drive to paternal grandfather’s home in Bedford, Nova Scotia. Stay the night with him and aunt.
Monday, March 20: Spend day in Bedford and Halifax. Spend night again.
Tuesday, March 21: Unplanned trip to Peggy’s Cove for gingerbread. Semi-unplanned drop off of sweater at uncle’s work in downtown Halifax. Leave on 4:55 p.m. flight to arrive home.

Now, during the first part of this journey, I had no access to internet and thus no email access. Not a big deal, except that when I emailed my paper to my prof on Thursday, I had requested he contact me at home or at work (also given) in order to confirm he had received my paper, since otherwise it would be counted as late. I didn’t hear from him, but there wasn’t much I could do.

Once I arrived in Halifax the second time (on the 19th), I checked my email. My prof said that he had (once again) extended the deadline, giving everyone until the 24th. He’d made this announcement in class on Wednesday, the 15th, a class I’d skipped so that I could stay home and finish my paper. Given my usual procrastinating style of working, this was the crunch day, although I had written the majority of it in previous days (longhand; for some reason that was how my brain was working that week). He was offering to look at everyone’s drafts, and offered me the same opportunity. I asked that he do so; he asked me to send him the paper, as he hadn’t received it (this email was one I’d gotten when I was away, but hadn’t read, since I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything while gone). I sent it and received feedback, which I’ll be addressing tonight (again, the day before it’s due).

So that was issue 1. Now for issue 2, the co-op housing. They had called me on Friday or Saturday (while I was at my Nanny’s house, I just can’t remember which day) to ask if I could come in and meet with them on Monday. I said I couldn’t, that I wasn’t going to be in the province. They asked for Tuesday; I said I could do around or after 7 p.m., as my flight was due to arrive around 5:45 that night. I remembered after the fact that the Smooshy was off that day, so that was fortunate. We set everything up and I figured I’d pull a Scarlett and worry about how I’d arrange getting there with or without luggage later. I’ll come back to this one.

Issue 3, professors. Professor 2 hasn’t contacted me yet; I left him a voicemail yesterday. I’ll try talking to my classmate friend next to see if she has any suggestions/knows of his office hours. Professor 3 emailed me before I left and set up a 2:30 meeting on Wednesday the 22nd to meet. Great. She then called me on the 21st, when I was in Peggy’s Cove, to say she couldn’t make it, and could we reschedule for the following week. I said sure. She asked me whether I was currently enrolled (it was in the email), how I had gotten her name (through the descriptions in the booklet we were all given when we registered), what courses I was currently taken (I told her), whether my professors had given me her name (no, it was in the booklet and online), and I have the impression that she’s going to be an ‘interesting’ supervisor, if we both decide to go ahead together. Why is it that there are no good/reliable cultural studies-oriented professors? They’re all business/political communication, and I’m sorry, I cannot do that for 100 pages and a year and a half.

Just before the professor called, my phone rang and I didn’t have time to grab it. The housing company lady had called me to cancel/reschedule our appointment. She said she’d call yesterday or today to reschedule. She hasn’t left me a number at which I could reach her, of course, so it’s now going to be FUN to schedule this meeting around her schedule, mine, and the Smooshy’s (which is kind of the least flexible). *sigh*

Needless to say, I didn’t get my cousin’s wedding gift done in time. I’m only a few hours of work out of finishing it, but I’m trying to get R and N’s wedding gift done, too, and that’s for May 20th and involves more work. Plus at this point, it’s still the fairly fun stuff and not the annoying backstitching/daisy-chaining that remains on my cousin’s gift, so I prefer to do it. I’d like to get one gift done on time… and have I mentioned that I still haven’t finished anything for Greg and Madeleine? Again, the finishing details. They’re annoying. Not to mention, after having seen some of the other gifts they’ve received, I’m slightly embarrassed to give them mine, which aren’t nearly as nice or skilled in their turnout. Well actually, one of them is quite nice – just very unfinished. Again, le sigh.

My doctor’s appointment is tomorrow, and unless they reschedule it on me, it’s all good. I have to leave work early for it, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

I’m also supposed to help R and N move on Sunday, but my classmates chose that day to get together, so depending on timing, I might not be able to do both. I might be able to borrow my mom’s car, which would help matters (since my dad and I have decided that it’s probably still too early to get the bike out). And while we’re on the subject of the bike – I spoke with my current housing company a few weeks ago, and they asked if I might be willing to consider moving the bike. They said they couldn’t force me to, but they’d like it if I did, ‘cause of new tenants and a shortage of spots. I got swamped, I was under no pressure, so I didn’t get back to them right away. I got a letter in the mail today that said they were moving me, that I was paying a reduced rate for my spot and that wouldn’t change, and that I was to contact the super. I spoke to him, he said we basically had to move ASAP, ‘cause the tenant was using another tenant’s spot, and that he could help me move the bike (I had said that I was putting it together on Saturday, and asked without asking if that would be good enough; it wasn’t). I plan on telling him that the reason I hadn’t called sooner was multifold: swamped, out of town, and told I didn’t have to move. The thing I won’t be mentioning is that I had thought/hoped to be out of there very soon – possibly even for April 1st – and so hadn’t really felt the need to rush. I suppose I could offer to pay full price for the spot and guarantee my right to it, but I really don’t want to, and I kinda really dislike a lot of things about the building I’m in right now and the management, so whatever.

I was trying to fall asleep last night and I was having a lot of important thoughts, and now I can’t remember any of them. Such is always the way for me.


Okay, I'm sharing this with everyone I know, and now it's your turn.

Jim Theis wrote a book called 'The Eye of Argon.' It would seem it's notorious in some circles as being utterly incomprehensible, and I have to admit, what I've gotten through thus far would certainly support that.

However, I found a link to a guy who did his own MSTing of the book, and I have to say, this guy is funny. So now, I entreat you all to take several hours of your life and devote them to reading here, where Adam Cadre MSTs Jim Theis' Eye of Argon. Enjoy, and you're welcome.

A sample, definitely not unique in terms of humour or quality:

The paunchy noble's sagging round face flushed suddenly pale,

Crow: It flushed pale? Did it blanch red after that?

then pastily lit up to a lustrous cherry red radiance.

Crow: Hold me.

His lips trembled with malicious rage,

Tom: As opposed to good-natured rage.

while emitting a muffled sibilant gibberish.

Mike: "Mom, you just don't understand my generation's music!"
Tom: If anyone's an authority on gibberish, it's Jim Theis.


Do you think the Calgary Sun knew what they were doing with this headline?

The Calgary Sun, 2006.03.09
Editorial/Opinion, page 14


The link to the story is here if you want to read it, or want proof I didn't make it up. It just strikes me as being of somewhat... poor judgement, at the very least. Maybe it was funnier this morning, when I first saw it.


More information than you wanted (there's your warning).

My other nipple hurts, and I haven't a clue why. I've decided to blame the Smooshy, and I know he'll accept the blame, even though neither of us will have a clue as to why or even how it happened. I think I slept wrong, but really; how often does sleeping funny make your nipple hurt?

I also have a crick in my neck, but that's quite possibly unrelated.

How are you?


I just wish I could understand.


It's been a rough little while. Repairs on the shower took quite some time, which made me feel frustrated and grody. The guy was supposed to show up at 10 on Saturday to finalize the work; he arrived at 1:35, about 5 minutes after I'd resolved to bus to the gym in order to have a shower. I'd have gone to the Smooshy's apartment, but he was working that day.

So my Saturday felt like a bit of a waste, even if I wouldn't have done anything much different even with a working shower (make sense of that). I had a bath later that afternoon, and things were better.

Sunday the Smooshy came over (he'd slept at his place the last few nights, the first due to severe crabbiness and insomnia, and the second due to the ingestion of smokable substances), and we shared a shower. As has to happen when two bodies occupy a small amount of valuable, hot water space, we had to change places. During this transaction, the Smooshy lost his footing and was about to go backwards over the edge of the tub, more than likely hitting the toilet in a very painful manner when he did so. I tried to catch him, and ended up being the one slipping and connecting with the floor of the tub in a fairly painful manner. My poor right knee.

This was the same knee I'd bruised a few days earlier in my sliding attempt to catch Thena before she got outside. She still succeeded, but didn't go far, probably due to the weather.

So I hobbled painfully around the apartment for a few minutes, then grabbed a bag of frozen broccoli and arranged that over my knee while I watched some television. The Smooshy later used the same bag in the preparation of dinner. My knee was more or less back to normal the next day, and I was able to run on it last night at the gym, but some of the other exercises I was doing put some strain on it that I could tell could get bad if I persisted.

The same day, I cut my hand on a knife while putting dishes in the dishwasher. Not a very deep cut, but enough to be annoying every time I put my hands in my pockets on Monday.

Yesterday at the gym, I managed to slice the web of my right hand between my thumb and index finger, which has its painful and difficult moments. I also came down with a migraine last night that persisted into this morning, so it made for a cranky and somewhat emotional morning (sometimes it makes me much less able to deal with things, and I can get driven to tears over absolutely nothing).

On the plus side, I bought some pillow cases to cross stitch for my cousin's wedding (two different sets of two, plus a pillow sham to be ribbon-embroidered, which I'll be saving for someone else, possibly the parents), and I managed to complete one of them on Saturday, and it looks quite nice. I've also mostly completed one smoker's glove (I have just to knit the flap and then sew in ends), and I'm working on the second, as well as working again on my project for R and N. So aside from the fact that I'm doing zilch in the way of school work or reading, that part of things is going well.

I'm stressing myself out over school, and this whole moving thing isn't helping much either, I don't think. The Smooshy and I are getting better about being able to talk rationally and non-defensively about household issues, but it has its bad times. I got my hydro bill for the last two months, and it was at its highest ever (more than double what my last one was), and given my little spending sprees last week, that wasn't exactly a shining moment for me. Add that to the fact that the Smooshy is much like me in terms of household maintenance and jumping up to do chores (i.e., both of us would rather spend our days fucking around and doing nothing instead of tidying up), and he gets defensive at times when I ask him to do things... and it's stressful. I'm thinking that drawing up a chore chart when we move out might be one idea... or cleaning up before I go to my cousin's wedding and seeing how things are when I return is another.

There's a possibility we might end up moving into a four-bedroom townhouse (although the three-bedroom is more likely), which would give us each a room to do with as we please. Of course, if he continues on as he does at his own apartment and leaves dishes in his room/office, I might just have to kill him. He knows this though, so it's not a big surprise.

Maybe we just need to each have our own pots and pans, and then I don't have to care as much if his are gone or have rice left in them or don't get soaked or whatever. *sigh* All of this has left me with a great deal of sympathy for what my mom has gone through for the last ten hundred years. I think it means I won't be a stay-at-home mom, if I ever get around to breeding. Heh.

Poor Smooshy... having to read all this rantyness. Poor the rest of you, too. What else can I mention? It's 41 days until my real manager returns, not that we're counting down anything. I'm hoping the weather clears up soon, so I can start riding the motorcycle again (I had another dream last night about people riding motorcycles around me... some of the others have involved me riding one). I'm a little over 2/3rds of the way through Gone With the Wind (the book, not the movie), and I'm enjoying it, though her complete and utter disregard/dislike for her kid is unusual... it almost feels like Margaret Mitchell kept forgetting she'd written him in, so has to mention him every now and again to remind us and herself that she hasn't killed him off yet. I might be curious to read the sequel after this, though I'm not sure how I feel about someone else writing a sequel to a classic book like this, even if I'm not sure how it ends just yet (and don't tell me!).

Otherwise, I'm tired of being stuffed up all the time, I want time to pass quickly, I want to do well on my paper (if I ever get around to writing the damn thing), and I want things to get better. I'm demanding.

Also, I want to be rich. I'm po'. :(