I just wrote a javascript to display how many seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years it will be until I turn 30. Is it sad that I found this fun?

My boss called me a nerd earlier, because I know more about computers than she does. I hardly know shit about computers in comparison to many of my friends, but around here I'm a nerd. :P

The first five people to respond to this post will receive some form of art, by me, for them. I make no guarantees about quality or type, only of individuality.

There's a catch, of course, as with most memes: if you sign up, you have to put this in your own journal too...

Warning: don't expect anything resembling punctuality. I'm backed up on school and projects, but welcome diversions from my life. :) If art items have to be mailed, contact me at figure out the trick with a mailing address.

I killed my fish this weekend, and I feel depressed about it.

In a fit of good will, I decided to clean his tank out. It had been looking kind of grungy, and -- confession alert -- I hadn't cleaned it since I got him, probably around a year ago. He never seemed to particularly care, and his appetite was always good, so I never worried too much about it. Fish in my household don't get fed every day, but I've been told with Bettas that's acceptable.

So, I don't know if it was the shock of the fresh water, or if I simply didn't rinse the tank out well enough, but I found him dead the next day. I guess I'm fortunate in a way that my cats are made of hardier stuff.

Of course, that doesn't mean I don't cause them injury on occasion. I was trimming Thena's nails the other night and managed to cut one of them too short -- I nicked her quick. So, she bled. She was pretty calm about it, beyond her usual bitchfest that takes place whenever I trim her nails (maybe tied to the fact that I cut her quick once when she was a baby, or maybe just because she hates it period). I held some Kleenex to her nail and she stayed pretty still while I applied the pressure, and it stopped the worst of the bleeding fairly quickly. This means I still have four nails to cut on that paw (I'd already finished one), so poor thing has to go through this again soon.

On the whole, the weekend wasn't too bad. Friday night I saw the Frantics and really enjoyed the show. Saturday and the subsequent days have been days for me to get back in touch with people I haven't spoken to for awhile. It was prompted by conversations with a former coworker and the Newf on Saturday, and a phone call from the runner ex-, then I initiated a few calls myself -- one to Big A, with whom I hadn't spoken in probably over a year, and one to Moose that evening, on my way to Stefan's to hang out.

I felt weird vibes that evening once Stefan's gf showed up; I felt like I was maybe unwelcome or that she's still upset with me as a result of all the drama that took place, but it might just be due her having been seriously ill. I suppose I could ask, but I'm trying to avoid stirring the pot if I can.

I also spoke with a classmate of mine today, who I hadn't been in touch with since the summer. I stopped getting emails from the crowd, so I wasn't sure if I was being phased out, or if they'd just stopped trying or what. We're having coffee on the weekend to catch up, though, and they've been wondering if I was dead or even still in the program, so that's a good sign. I'm taking a course this semester at the other university, so that's why I haven't seen them in class.

It's been odd catching up on peoples' relationships the last bit. Big A is living with his lady friend, which didn't surprise me, and the big question is apparently not too far off of the horizon. My classmate, on the other hand, is getting divorced, but she says things are amicable, which makes it harder on the one hand, and kinder overall, I imagine. Big A's status threw me for a bit of a loop; I mean, I wasn't entirely surprised, but I'm definitely a bit envious. Of course, you've all heard that bemoaning a thousand times before, and so I'll try my best to keep it to a minimum: whine whine whine, why haven't I found Mr. Perfect yet when all around me are people marrying their first or second boyfriends/girlfriends?

Okay, I'm done. I'm also hungry, so I'm off to grab some lunch.

I had a dream last night in which the UBFM was present. I think he had come over to my apartment/house (in my dream it wasn't my actual current place) in order to talk to me about something or try to make nice again or I don't know what. He looked exactly the same, and I wanted nothing to do with him. At least dream me can be sensible.

Some other part of my dream had a friend of mine (who I never see anymore, and has been dating the same girl forever) whose identity I will not name to protect him, trying to sex me up -- with the girlfriend's knowledge (in my dream, their relationship was an open one). We ended up in the backyard of whatever house we had been at, near a cheap metal jungle gym (the kind we all had when we were kids), me floating on my back with flood waters rising around us, me wearing a motorcycle helmet and vibrating underwear, and he pressing his mouth against me to make the vibrations more intense. My head kept dipping slightly under the water (who can blame it, I was wearing a heavy helmet), but my face never got submerged, and I wasn't freaked out or concerned or anything, just enjoying myself.

Let's all pause for a moment to express the thoughts we're all having together: Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot?!

I concur.

Fortunately for my sanity, the two parts of the dream weren’t connected.

Now, moving on to a few rants I’ve been allowing to fester for a little while now. I email back and forth with a few friends when I’m at work. One of these acquaintances and I were speaking about motorcycle etiquette one time after he asked me if I’d ridden to work that day. He had to work overtime and wanted a lift home, as he didn’t particularly care for riding the bus. My first response was to say that I hadn’t ridden in that day (which was true), and the conversation carried on from there. I’ll repost it rather than try to summarize it for you:

Him: Hey, you still breathing over there? If not, can I have your motorcycle?

Me: Yes and no. My dad's already claimed first rights should I decide to sell it, even if it's not his dream bike. I also have a friend whose brother is in love with Ninjas and would probably love the chance to buy it.

Him: I don't imagine you rode it in to work today, did you? I have to work overtime tonight and I don't feel like taking the bus at the godforsaken hour of 8 o'clock with all the cannibals and CHUDs and other assorted lowlifes. :)

Me: I thought about it, but didn't for various reasons. You're welcome to climb on board if you have your own equipment and feel comfortable with a driver who's still quite novice and is only still getting used to driving herself around, let alone a passenger. I've once taken a friend for a drive around a large parking lot, but haven't been out in public or at speed with anyone.

Plus, if you've never ridden a bike before, there's a fair bit to know if you don't want to kill yourself and the driver.

Him You mean apart from the "don't hold your hands over the driver's eyes" rule? How much more complicated could it be? You did trust me enough to let me drive you around without fearing for your life, I could probably return the favour.

Me: Lean with the driver, don't lean too far over and don't fight the bike when it does lean. Keep your feet on the pegs at all times. Keep close to the driver. Don't suddenly throw your weight around. The bike also handles *hugely* differently when there's a second person on it vs. just me. Given that its max weight capacity is meant to be 396 lbs, two people on it is starting to get very close to that. More expensive on gas, too.

It's a lot of balance and safety issues. Again, I've never ridden in traffic with anyone else, and I'm not about to start in the middle of the fall, when there are environmental conditions to account for as well as passenger safety ones. Not to mention that my bike is not especially suited to having a passenger -- if I sit on the back, my knees come up past my dad's hips, and I don't have long legs. I've had many people ask to be driven around, and I turn them all down.

Him Those rules are all common sense, but remembering them in the middle of a turn if you're not used to riding on a bike might be a bit difficult. Whoa whoa whoa, two people on the bike approach 400 lbs??!? You're what, maybe 130? I, my dear, am nowhere near 270 lbs. I'm proud to say I'm hovering near 155.

Me: Exactly why I'm not rushing to put someone on my bike that isn't used to riding on one. It's not common sense -- it's that if you don't follow these rules, you will screw up the driving. It'd be the equivalent of the passenger, while you were turning the steering wheel to the left to make a left-hand turn, reaching over and pulling the wheel to the right. If someone tried to ride with me and couldn't keep things straight, I'd feel no compunction whatsoever about leaving them on the side of a road somewhere. I'm not about to die just because someone can't follow simple rules.

And no, I weigh around 150 lbs. Many of my friends are anywhere from 180-200 lbs themselves, and over 6 feet tall. All of these influence how the bike performs.


Him: You don't look 150. And geez, get some skinny friends already.

And fine, I'll take my chances on the bus. But if you read a story about a half-eaten corpse found on a bus tomorrow, remember I asked you to give me a lift home.



Me: I'm talking about male friends, and they're hardly fat people.

Also, you may recall I said at the beginning of all of this that I didn't take the bike in.

Him: Yes, I do recall that, but I could hardly use the line in an obviously vain attempt to plant guilt if I adhered to that, could I? I mean, come on.

Me: Whining about me not giving you a lift home is hardly going to inspire a shred a guilt in me.
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I got pissed around the time he said the line about how all of that is a lot for someone who’s never been on a bike before to remember. I felt as though he was telling me that my safety didn’t matter – that if someone couldn’t be bothered to remember a few simple things, it would be okay that they might do something to make me lose control of my bike and possibly even cause an accident. Needless to say, even if I were taking people for rides on my bike routinely, I wouldn’t be taking him out.

Brief rant: Why is it that whenever there’s been a pregnancy scare in my life (and there haven’t been any that were realistically a concern, just one broken condom at a not-ideal but still okay time and one or two bouts of extreme paranoia based on nothing), the guy goes off on how he isn’t ready to be a dad, doesn’t want kids right now, etc., etc., making it sound as though I’ve been dancing around, begging to be impregnated, desperate for sperm, poking holes in condoms and forcing him to fuck me without protection? Who the hell said I was ready to be a mom right now, or give my body over to another human being in that sense? Argh.

Next longer rant: I’m doing a masters of communications degree with a focus in media studies. My thesis will be on portrayals of masculinity in contemporary television, using Buffy the Vampire Slayer as a case study. Sure, it may not win be a Nobel peace prize, or solve world hunger, but I think it’s an interesting subject to explore, and it’s where my interests and supposed talents (may) lie.

I also have a bachelors degree in communications. I went to school full time at that time and worked part time in order to pay for it. My BA qualified me for my previous and current jobs, and the skills I’ve learned through school and through practical work experience have further qualified me and sustained me in my career. They will also help open doors for me in the future.

Now, that’s me. I went the education route because I like school, I like learning, and it was where my interests were. School has always been important to me, up to and including times where I was upset enough about a failed grade that I did cry, because I was and am a loser.

That said, I have friends who have either not done or not completed post-secondary education and they have gone even further in their fields than I have currently, and are successful for whatever given definition of success you care to use. I’m using it in the sense that they have careers, roofs over their head, food on their plates, clothes on their back, and aren’t having to count pennies from month to month. I’m happy for them.

However, some of these people don’t seem to understand why it is that I have chosen to do post-graduate work, or why I even did an undergrad in the first place. That’s fine; I may not understand other peoples’ life choices, and I’ll certainly question them to others, but I try to avoid doing it too much to them.

But what it has meant is that there’s a notable lack of respect for my chosen path(s), and that does bother me. I distinctly recall telling a friend while I was doing my undergrad that I couldn’t go out a particular evening or as often as he was suggesting because of reading/papers/exams/classes. He said, though maybe not in so many words, that I should blow off said work and go out or meet up with him.

I’ve had put down the amount of work that is going to have to go into my thesis, and I’ve had a friend state that he and his wife got into a fight over his belief that I didn’t need to do a masters degree – he told me that while he still didn’t think I needed to do it/understand why I was doing it, that he supported my choice to do it.

Uh, thanks.

I realize that not everyone thinks studying pop culture or the media is important. I think it is, and I won’t bore you with the reasons why. I realize that not everyone needs to pursue formal education in order to learn or further their prospects for career advancement. I realize that some people can take a textbook, sit down with it and learn its contents without a great deal of struggle.

But – there is much more beyond that that goes on in university. It’s discussing the concepts, the theories, the history, the practices of your chosen field. Not everyone professor teaches word for word from a textbook, and not every idea expressed by fellow classmates, guest lecturers or professors is written down somewhere to be absorbed. Not everyone engages with the material in the same manner, and not every thought one has is sparked simply by what’s on a page somewhere.

I’m not knocking reading – I love to read. I stayed up until midnight last night so I could finish Terry Pratchett’s latest book. But there are so many people who don’t learn everything just from reading a book, and to assume that one can gain the equivalent of a bachelors degree or masters degree’s level of education through self-study may be laughable.

I say may be; I know there is much to be gained from practical experience. I have a coworker who’s worked for the government in some capacity or another for 16 years; he has a much easier time writing ‘government-ese’ than I do, and he doesn’t have a degree. But because of our backgrounds and our training, we process information differently, and that’s to both of our advantages.

But when someone belittles my choice of education or tells me I can blow off this or that for entertainment, it makes me feel as though they don’t respect me. I realize that communications is a field that’s regularly mocked. But I tell everyone who does so or brings up that point that an arts degree is far from a bird degree, especially if your skills don’t lie in reading, writing and processing information and conveying it coherently.

Those of you who read this site recognize that I don’t always explain things very well. It’s common – what I think is explained clearly won’t be to everyone, either because of my choice of words, or the other’s manner of interpreting it. But I can generally write clearly and my thought process, when I put some into it (instead of a brain dump such as this) is usually – I’ve been told – fairly easy to follow. Hell, I’ve been told that even my brain dumps can be easily followed. Who knew? I can’t say it’s all because of my education, but I can’t help but think that it certainly hasn’t hurt.

So to summarize? I take joking and teasing as well as the next person, and sometimes maybe even a bit better. But when it comes to something I’ve spent a great deal of time and effort pursuing, and it’s currently influencing and shaping my career path? Yeah, it bugs me to have my efforts put down.

Just some venting that no one will read… you want me to update, yet when I do, you tell me you skim. ;)

I had a good, though slightly messed-up weekend this weekend. Friday night I went out to the Dirty Oak with a bunch of friends. I didn't get entirely hammered, but it was what I needed after two crazy weeks at work and the possibility that I was going to have to go in to work this weekend (which didn't happen, fortunately).

The cats were bugging me the next morning around 9, so I kicked them out of the bedroom. The next time they were bugging me, I kept rolling around and trying to get back to sleep and it wasn't happening, so I checked the clock -- it was noon. I futzed around for a bit before I got a phone call from R and N and went out to Mexi's for lunch. Then S and N joined up with us, we had Wendy's for dinner (and I've hereby exceeded my budget for spending money and then some, especially after last night's excursion to the drugstore for improved facial and hair products), and I ended up staying up with N until sometime after 2.

Saturday night didn't really get enough sleep, but I did make a pumpkin pie and did my dishes, then went out to my parents' place with the GLR for dinner. My sister and I didn't crank at one another as much as last time, and my mom's cousin was there, so it worked out. My dad's aunt passed away and yesterday was my aunt's birthday (and it was around this time of year five years ago that my grandmother died), so my aunt was somewhat affected by it all. Poor lady.

Hydro, bike insurance, apartment insurance, bike loan, Rogers, rent, telephone bill. Payday is on Wednesday. I should be okay to pay it all, but I won't have much spending money in between. No big deal -- once I get Gilmore Girls back from N and some good stuff scrolls back around on the Rogers on Demand (and provided they do take all the discounts off my account that they were supposed to), I'll be even better off. No more $400 bills to Rogers! :P (Note to self: give more thought to adding the $10 for 2500 text messages plan to your cell phone bill, 'cause at $0.15/message after the 125 you get, it can add up quickly).

Sign you might be a girl #236:

When you use not one, but two different hair care products in an attempt to ensure the death of a spider that you can no longer see, but that you've already trapped between an empty yoghurt container and a piece of paper and thrown in the garbage.

Shut up, it seemed to make sense at the time. Now I just have to remember now to throw any matches in the garbage...

Of course, classic me, I captured the spider against the wall with the yoghurt container, then didn't really think through the next step -- the "killing it and disposing of its putrid body" part. Venus came over to check out what I was doing, and I told her I didn't really think things through.

Who's surprised that I talk to my cats like they're rational and can understand me? No one.

Now, tomorrow I will remember to call my professor, mail in the BBM survey, and buy death-to-spider spray.

Maybe they sell something for neighbours, too... I just love that my neighbours hang out their window to smoke -- it makes my bedroom smell oh-so-wonderful.

Also, I don't hold no truck with drama. It's entertaining from a distance, but I'm glad I'm not really a part of it. Or am I? :P

Edited to add: also killed the teenage spider on the ceiling of the bathroom. Apparently he hadn't heard of my policy.

Why are all spiders male in my world? Does this represent deep-seated issues or what? Maybe I should just start naming them all after ex-boyfriends. Or at least one -- call 'em all UBFM and be done with it.

#5432 of the list of ways I didn't know my cats were insane:

GLR used the washroom before we left for dinner and left the toilet seat and lid up. Boys. I didn't bother to put it down because I have better things to obsessively fixate on (though I often do put it down after the culprit, regardless of who they are, leaves). I took it upon myself to slay two spiders a few minutes ago, and tossed their final resting place -- a kleenex -- into the toilet. Not only do I squash them, but I drown the little fuckers, too. I keep hoping one will witness this and warn the others, but alas.

Anyhow, I changed into pyjamas and went to use the washroom one final time before bed, and what do I see? The wet kleenex has been pulled out of the bowl and left as a soggy nose-thumbing on the floor for me.

Thank you cats, thank you very much.

You won't kill spiders for me, and Thena at least allows mice to dance and poop in front of her, but you'll rescue wet kleenex from a fate worse than flushing.

It's a damn good thing these hairballs are cute and purr, otherwise...

GLR and I were seated on my couch in the living room, me in my blue horizontal-striped shirt and nothing else (or so it seemed), and he barefoot, shirtless, and in jeans. In came two girls through my backdoor, who proceeded to speak to him and ignore me. They knew him, though still spoke to him in a derogatory manner, and when he called their attention to me and the fact that it was my apartment and so they should at the very least acknowledge me, they transferred their derogatory comments to me.

I stood, revealing that I was wearing underwear in addition to my t-shirt, and ignored the faces they made at the fact that my body was chunkier and softer than their underfed selves. I said something that indicated the fact that I was unimpressed with their treatment of GLR and myself, and that they were in my home and not especially welcome. I then headed towards my bedroom to find a pair of jeans to put on, as I felt that I'd have a better leg to stand on if I were dressed.

At some point in my walk to the bedroom, I woke up. I have strange dreams.

I am way too emotionally invested in the Gilmore Girls. I think I need help.

And shut up haters, it's a great show.

As part of my on-going learning, I'm going to be making tweaks to my site here and there, since it's something I've wanted to do for ages. See if you can spot them! See if you care! :)

Edited to add: ignore anything that's broken. I'm learning and don't have a development server on which to practice. :P

I had a dream last night that I was getting married. I had everything together - dress, flowers, rings, venue, etc., yet none of it was what I wanted. Everything had been chosen by someone else, and I didn't really feel good about any of it. I'm pretty sure I was content with the guy, but... can't recall.

I'm debating removing one of my piercings. It tends to interfere a little, and while I like the way it looks, it's not really serving its purpose. Ah well, no rush.

My various emotions and feelings are all over the place lately. I miss some people very strongly, and I'm jealous of a friend of mine who said s/he'd had a 6-hour fuck fest.

I've downloaded the Numa Numa song, and shut up, I love it. I knew I did before, but it's so happy and stupid, I enjoy it (there Jay, I've posted about my music interests).

I need to get more sleep so I stop crabbing at people. :)

It was a rough time to be a cat in this household this weekend. I pretty much sat on Venus at one point; she was in my black desk chair, I didn't turn on the lights, I have a big ass, she's a small cat... she was fortunately unharmed. Thena was occupying the chair at a time when I wanted it and she didn't want to let me have it, so I spent a good five to ten minutes tormenting her and making her grumpy. It's a fun game if you play it right.

I think Thena might've defended the household from a six year old girl. The house that used to house my crazy drunken hippy neighbours has sat seemingly empty for some time now. However, it may have been taken over by a large family and/or their extended family/friends. They were over all weekend doing something I couldn't quite determine, but it woke me up early Saturday (okay, 10:30ish, which was earlier than I wanted to be up), which made me crabby.

I put Thena out on her harness and leash, since it was gorgeous out and she loves to be outside and annoys the crap out of me if she isn't and wants to be. Some time passed, and I heard a young girl crying and being comforted by her mother (I presume).

Now, I have no way of knowing for sure, but, I like to theorize that little girl came on to my property (ever since they cut down the big tree, my 'backyard' is even more open) to pat the nice kitty. Nice kitty isn't so nice, however, and took a chomp out of little girl. Owner of said not-so-nice kitty would find this very funny, and an important life lesson to both little girls and parents: never pat an animal you don't know, always ask permission first (as did the little girl who saw not-so-nice-kitty in her very not-so-nice days at my former apartment), and parents -- keep an eye on your little boys and girls and teach them life lessons #1 and #2.

Okay, so I'm a horrible human being, but you'd better believe my kids are going to respect other peoples' property and pets.

I keep thinking that my nails are fake. They're fairly long (at least, for me), and I painted them out of boredom last week, so they really don't seem like mine. Not biting them and applying massive layers of chemicals has made them somewhat strong, too, and suddenly I keep thinking I have acrylics on again. They're starting to interfere a little with my typing, just like when they're fake. I'm so proud of myself.

GLR and I were in WalMart on Friday around 10. That's now my favourite time to be in a WalMart, because all of the mentally deficient people have gone home to be taken care of after someone ran them over in the store or parking lot. At least, I can only hope the idiots have been flattened at some point or another, 'cause I'm coming close to doing it myself (I was in WalMart again today -- can you tell?). Anyhow, I went through the electronics section and picked up Gilmore Girls season 6, and made a "glee!" noise when I saw volume 1 of Animaniacs on the shelf. So there goes the rest of my birthday money, but I don't regret it -- a huge bookshelf, three pairs of jeans, and two DVD on TV sets. I also picked up a DVD tower for cheap, and it rang up even cheaper than it was posted at, so I have to eventually unpack and set that up. It's like I'm getting organized or something!

I've composed much more interesting posts in my head several times this past week, and none of them have made it on to my site, as I'm sure you've noticed. It's been a very low-key week for me, and I've been glad for it. I'm going to be starting to do some web work at work, and I'm looking forward to that, in a "oh good god I'm a geek for enjoying this" sort of way. It helps that I absolutely adore the web mistress at work -- she's hilarious, and I actually leave her desk with a huge grin on my face. Friday I left work laughing, and Thursday I was there late, laughing with her, and didn't care. Now granted, the work would be a bit easier if our desks were closer together, but we'll see.

I had a good long conversation with Ben last week, too. Semi plans are underway to go visit him, and Markuk is talking about flying me out to visit him. Apparently it's my year for field trips! :)