[ Monday, April 29, 2002 | 06:34 a.m. ] This is an advanced form of what-the-fuck-am-I-doing. Of the six DVD's, I managed to watch one, Jaws, on Monday night. Tuesday afternoon, at work, I watched Behind Enemy Lines, a movie which I'd never heard of before. (Slow-motion and similar effects were slightly overused.) Wednesday night I had dinner at some restaurant in Scarborough Town Centre, and I didn't pay too much attention to The West Wing or Law & Order. Thursday was a guy from work's twenty-seventh birthday. Friday was my last day at work. The guys took us, the other co-op and I, out for lunch to this place on Bay called The Devil's Advocate. He and I are particularly dull, so it was supposedly not nearly as crazy as past co-op farewell lunches. They also gave us some nice gifts. I think I'm mostly happy to be out of there, as it was boring as hell, but I'd still like to go back for one more term, if that's possible. I just wish my boss would tell me one way or the other. He's all like, "I need to talk to my boss, blah, blah, blah... I'll contact you before interviews start." Right. Yo, G, I need to know ASAP. Once you apply for a job, you're locked into co-op, and the applying takes place a while before the interviewing. Now, I was the one who brought up the idea, and if he doesn't want me coming back, he should really just tell me now. This is something I need to know. Perhaps I will inform him of that fact in an email. Pseudo-Cg, my co-ordinator, is gonna want to know what I'm up to. Saturday was Adri's surprise birthday party for Viv. It was a little weird. Their university friends scare me. I really didn't fit in. At one point, I left the basement, where they were all drinking beer and playing Truth or Dare, and just crashed on a couch upstairs in front of the fireplace, basking in the warmth and thinking of calling up Sean. I was somewhat hidden there, and I overheard one of the university guys talking about how weird Adri's high school friends were. Alright. Nevertheless, it was good to see people. Viv already had the two books I bought her, but at least that means she likes/would've-liked them. I also had some pretty sweet cake, and some damn, DAMN good salad. The whole affair, though, left me feeling a bit.. not like a university student, I guess. Sunday mom sort-of met Sean. Sort-of met meaning that he came to the door and I said, "Sean, this is my mom. Mom, Sean." So they shook hands, and my mom said to him, "Nice to meet you... You're tall... Chris told me not to act weird, so I'm trying not to..." She asked if he wanted anything to drink. I said I'd really rather be leaving and shoved him out the door. I still don't know what she thought of him--we haven't discussed it. I pulled a little sketchiness that night. I got home late. Not *really* late, but late for me. In my defence, there was no set time I had to be home. Well, now there is. I'm eighteen years old, and for the first time in my life I've got a curfew: eleven on weeknights (a moot point 'cause I'll be in Waterloo) and midnight on weekends. I suppose I can live with that--just barely; I hate being told what to do. Today I was supposed to pack, but instead I slept in 'till eleven and then went over to ChiQ's. We watched the Raptors game. ChiQui became very excited when we won. I've been having weird issues all day. It's like a cross between chest pains and nausea. I think it's all psychosomatic. I've been very anxious about school and moving and things. It's faded in and out. I'm feeling a little better now. Around midnight I started to pack. While doing this I watched two episodes of NYPD Blue, followed by Miami Vice and Law & Order. I called it quits at four. I'd say I'm about half way there, but now I really need some sleep. Sleep will relax me. Sleep will calm me down. Sleep will plunge me into a beautiful, black world where nothing matters.

This Morning: The Work Report Files [ Monday, April 29, 2002 | 06:21 a.m. ] Disclaimer: This is something I wrote on Monday April 22nd. It's long. I was really just doing it to kill time at work. Even if you consider yourself a loyal reader of this blog or a good friend of mine, you need not feel obligated to read it. In case you don't, here's the synopsis: I was sketchy last night, for no particular reason. I handed in my work report, eventually. *** 5:36 am It's so classic that I'm almost enjoying it for that alone. It's five thirty in the morning, and I'm finally working seriously on finishing the report. I might even be having a good time if it weren't for these two sentences that I really hate, but I can't seem to rewrite. The worst part is I know I reworked at least one, but that version was saved on the disk I lost. And it was my frosh kit disk, too. *sigh* 6:41 am Fixed one of the annoying sentences. In other news, I just looked out the window, and there's fucking snow everywhere! 7:04 am Fuck it, I'm done. I've got to be out of here in thirty minutes, and I haven't had my shower yet. It's off to the printer for this baby. *** Ever had one of those mornings where everything that could possibly go wrong does? Well, yeah, that was me today. Who would’ve thought that printing out a few pages would be so hard? I was working on my laptop, but the printer is hooked up to the desktop. So, I went into the other room and turned it on. It crashed. I rebooted. It crashed. I rebooted. It managed to stay up long enough to open Word and hit print on the title page of my report. So far, so good. Then I printed the next page. The letters were looking a little faint--a little more grey than black. I was pretty much out of ink. I had another colour cartridge right there, but no black. By then it was around seven twenty, I had fifteen minutes before I was supposed to leave, and I was having a meltdown. I ran downstairs, got the other printer out of its box, ran down to the basement, got the cables for the other printer, and ran back to my room to hook it up to my laptop. Everything should’ve been fine. *Should* have been fine. The computer could not communicate with the printer. I unplugged and re-plugged and refreshed and rebooted. I think it might be the USB cable, which I’d stored in less than perfect conditions, i.e. my often-steamy bathroom, for the past four months. In any case, it was soon seven thirty, and I was still in my pyjamas. My dad, who gives me a ride every morning, called to say he was there. I ran downstairs, splashed some water on my face, chugged a little mouthwash, threw on some clean clothes, grabbed a pocket comb and ran out the door, cursing up a storm. Really, though, looking back, it was classic. It had all the best elements of Terri’s Pseudo-All-Nighters. I’d intended to stay up as long as I’d needed to do my work. Instead, I stayed up ‘till around one reading email, then fell into a fitful sleep for most of the night. I awoke near five, screwed around for another half-hour, then finally got to work. I interrupted my work for frequent blogging breaks. I only started working hard at six thirty. In the end I went insane. I went to work without a shower, with hair so greasy that it looks wet. And now, after all that… What was the point? I just printed the stuff out here anyway. I could have still worked on it here. Actually, I did find some things that I wanted to change, but I decided against printing a fresh copy. I’m lazy. If it was good enough for me this morning when I was half out of my mind, it should be good enough for me now. I’m going on a crazy binding mission on my lunch break, and I hope to hand the thing in when I get back. Then I will have absolutely no worries for a week, until I have to start packing. Excellent, it’s noon. I’ll go for lunch in an hour, spend an hour on my quest, and then I’ll only have an hour ‘till the guy gets here. Aw, yeah. This is the life. It’s weird, but I’m getting nervous about going back to school. Like, I’m more nervous now, I think, than I was back in September. It’s probably because I thought I was going to die first term, and then I didn’t. I’m still waiting for the bottom to fall out. I got really sketchy with the calculus last term, and it was all stuff that I’d done in OAC. Hell, I did AP, and I got a five on that and a ninety-eight in the course. Despite all that, I managed to tank my exam pretty bad. That was easy calculus, not hard calculus, and I’m going to die. I’m also worried that I may have to write, like, essays for my electives. Long, researched, coherent *university* essays. I have no idea how to do that. I’m suddenly reminded of how I used to kill time at the TIP ‘camp’ at UTS that one summer by writing these insanely long emails to Jaime. Now I write memos to ChiQui, and this one blog post. Damn, I’m cold. It’s always cold in this room. Perhaps I’ll try the guy’s advice, which was to think of him whenever I needed to warm up. I’ve got my elastic band out now, so I’m having a little fun. Half an hour ‘till I go for lunch. *** I think I saw Carlo Rota at the accountant’s on Saturday. (He played that guy on Nikita, and he had his own food show for a while, plus he was in the season premiere of Nero Wolfe, which I finally watched last night. There was another guy who’d been on Nikita in the episode, too.) I’d swear it was him. Oh, and while on the subject of last night’s TV, I can’t say enough how much I disliked that episode of The X-Files. The one high point was Morris Fletcher’s presence; everything else sucked. The story just didn’t work for me. Possibly this is why the Lone Gunmen’s own show bombed. And how could they do that to the boys? *** All right. Mission accomplished. The report now has pretty black Cerlox binding, and a clear plastic cover. It didn’t turn out to be much of an adventure. There’s actually a copy place right downstairs, on this block, not more than twenty metres from the door to my building. I was done in five minutes. I killed the rest of lunch by going on the journey I’d planned to University Ave. and wandering around there. (It’s not quite wandering, though, because I’m always striding purposefully, as though I’m in a tremendous hurry to get somewhere. Really I’m just in a hurry to get as far away from this place as possible, and then I end up in a hurry to get back. And today wasn’t a day to sit in the park or something, what with the snow and all.) “Hotel California” is on the radio. I don’t want to get up, walk to my boss’s office and hand him the report. I’m hoping he’ll wander in here at some point, and I can just casually pass it to him. I was just about to type “even the pretty binding can’t disguise that it’s crap,” but looking more closely... No, the pretty binding does a lot. Suddenly the whole thing looks almost legitimate. I feel almost legitimate. But not that legitimate. And I still need a shower. I also need to call Pam, who’s left me multiple messages that I haven’t listened to yet. I need to watch some movies tonight so I can give the other co-worker his DVD’s back. What’s left? Almost Famous, Terminator 2, Desperado, Toy Story 2, Pitch Black, and Jaws. Six movies, at maybe two hours a pop; that's twelve hours. If I get home at--scratch that, let’s say the movies are an hour and half, on average; that’s only nine hours. I get home at maybe seven, watch five of the movies, take a nap at two thirty, and get up again at five to watch the last one. Totally doable. Riiight...

Procrastination [ Monday, April 22, 2002 | 04:13 a.m. ] Ter-Rat, Ter-Rat, Ter-Rat. That work report ain't gonna finish itself. (I know. It's sketchy. I was pretty much done a month ago, but I still haven't handed the thing in.) But putting that aside... Whee! It's been a pretty good week-or-so. I hung out with Kim on Monday, and with Jacq & El on Wednesday. I explored the Scarborough Bluffs. I went and saw Panic Room, plus I watched Spy Game, Joyride, and The Jackal. I bought sweet new sandals, and I spent as much time as possible outside, in shorts. Mom got over it, and we're good. I was able to login to the housing web app: I'll be living with three Chemical Engineers this summer. I saw two operas, Boris Godunov and Julius Caesar, I liked them both, and I actually kinda dug the music in the second one. I had bubble tea, and I actually liked the 'bubbles'. Tonight's X-Files was a bit of a disappointment, but life can't be perfect, I suppose. Selected answers to one of those sketchy surveys: 1.  What time is it: 12:25 a.m. 11. How much do you love your job based on a scale of 1 to 10: 4 or 9, depending on the day 12. Favorite thing to do when bored: read blogs 17. Been toilet-papering: no 18. Been toilet-papered: no 19. Loved somebody so much it made you cry: maybe my mom 29. Favorite holiday: Christmas 30. Favorite food: BigMac 31. Favorite song: "One"-U2/ "Bridge Over Troubled Water"-Simon & Garfunkel/ "Liberation"-Pet Shop Boys/ "Someday We'll Know"-New Radicals 39. When was your last hospital visit/what for? 6 or 7 years ago, I had these crazy-ass cramps, apparently it was some ovary issue--I even spent the night 41. Number of times you failed your driver's license test: none 42. Biggest accomplishment: finishing a 10K race, the SAT thing in grade eight 43. Where do you see yourself in 10 years: living at home, dicking around, looking for excuses not to get a real job 44. Who is the last person that you got e-mail from: The Pangee 48. Name a person who inspires you: The ChiQui 49. Bedtime: between 9:30 p.m. and 2 a.m.

Crash & Burn [ Tuesday, April 16, 2002 | 12:24 a.m. ] If I'd just gotten off the phone a little earlier, this whole thing could have been avoided. But I didn't, so there it is. Fuck. So much for the fabled close relationship with my mother.

[ Sunday, April 14, 2002 | 10:10 p.m. ] I know I've been cryptic lately. I should probably explain some of that, but I'm not sure where to start. I guess I'll just give it to you straight up. To begin with, I accidentally went on a date with a (25 year old) guy from work. Accidentally meaning that I didn't realise he was asking me out. Now we're friends, but he'd still kinda like to be more than friends, so things get a little weird at times. Now, I'm dating a 28 year old guy from work. Yes, that's ten years older than me. Yes, I am completely aware of how wrong the whole thing is, but I really like him, and I'm not about to stop seeing him without a good reason. The parents sort-of know about it, and are suitably concerned. Hell, I'm concerned, but, you know... I really like him. Screw the age thing. And the work thing. I know. I've lost my mind. I've officially, completely lost my mind.

Backlog :: Thursday April 11 [ Saturday, April 13, 2002 | 10:38 p.m. ] More movies! I stayed up most of the night on Sunday watching The Ghost & The Darkness and Crimson Tide. (Btw, how wicked was The X-Files?) Tuesday, after work, I went and saw I am Sam, which was really good. So many things could have been overdone, but they were all handled perfectly. Other than the movies, though, I haven't been doing much. I keep falling asleep. Last night I didn't even make it to the end of The West Wing. One minute I was watching TV, and the next I was coming to on the couch and seeing that it was five a.m. Of course, I might have been a little tired yesterday. It was such an amazingly beautiful day, wasn't it? Well, when I walked out of work, I felt inspired. Or insane; take your pick. I decided to walk home. It actually wasn't nearly as far as I thought it would be. It only took two hours. Oh, and the weather was just so, so wonderful. *sigh*

[ Sunday, April 7, 2002 | 06:32 p.m. ] Ellie's said in her blog that she doesn't feel like discussing her life anymore. Me, I'd love to discuss my life, but I've reached a point recently where I feel like there's a lot I can't discuss. Or, it's more like I haven't decided exactly how much I want to say here. Before last December, I wouldn't have thought twice about posting just about anything, but now.. I guess before I thought that the only people who might read this would be my close friends, or total strangers. The idea that other people I knew in real life might end up here never crossed my mind. More than that, I'm really confused about things right now. I don't know what the hell's going on with my life, so I just post dry, facts-only descriptions of my days: I got up, I went to work, I watched TV, I went to bed. I'm retreating into myself, and avoiding things I really need to deal with, such as calling UW housing, who I assume have lost my application or somesuch, and I'm supposed to be moving back there in three weeks. I can't settle on a final version of my work report. The fact is, I really hate it--it blows goats--and I wish the people at work didn't have to read it until after I was gone. (Even if I went back next term, they'd probably have forgotten about it.) That being said, I'm not about to change it, so I just keep trying not to think about it. Speaking of work, I'm thinking about going back to the same place next term. I mean, it wasn't a terribly exciting experience, but the people are nice and the location's good. And it's a job. I think my boss would hire me again. (As the other co-worker said, "The way he hits on you? No problem!") 'Course if I want to do that, then I'd better not do anything too stupid in the time I've got left... So... Friday, Friday, Friday. I saw Ice Age. It was adorable, and very funny. At home, I fell asleep on the couch watching something about wildlife in the Alps on the Discovery Channel. Yesterday afternoon I watched Legends of the Fall on DVD, and later in the evening mom joined me for Singin' in the Rain, which was really, really wonderful. I fell asleep watching Poirot. I woke up in the basement around eight this morning, and went upstairs to my computer. I didn't move from there until roughly four thirty in the afternoon. I had my first bite of food of the day an hour later. After that, I sat in the kitchen and read yesterday's paper. There was an interesting article on silence. I've been thinking about silence a lot lately, mostly about my own silence. I've been realising it at work, with how I just don't talk to people. Then, once I started looking for it.. Yesterday afternoon, my dad took me to Second Cup for a drink. We were sitting outside in the sun, seemingly chatting, but I noticed that I barely said a thing. In the good hour we were there, I hardly talked. I noticed it again today, in the car with my mom. I'm talking less, now that I've started feeling self-conscious about it. Throughout the day I find myself puzzling over it--I know I've had conversations with people before--what on Earth did I talk about? In any case, I've decided to retreat into silence for the time being. I think I'll go for a short walk. To speak is a sin You look first, then stare And once in a while A smile, if you dare

Who's Your Type? [ Sunday, April 7, 2002 | 02:28 p.m. ] Your type is the Goofball Laughter is the way to your heart. A guy with a great sense of humor is definitely the one for you! You want a Goofball, someone who can laugh at himself and make you laugh, too. There's no bigger turn-off than a guy who takes himself too seriously. You know that if a guy is silly, he's generally self-confident and secure. Your man is a people magnet and everyone's favorite friend. There's never a dull moment with your jokester nearby. You crave excitement and laughter, and your goofball enhances those things in your life. You probably think life is too short to spend it without a smile. Your goofy guy will ensure that that doesn't happen — his lighthearted and silly ways make everything a little bit brighter. Who's your type?

[ Friday, April 5, 2002 | 05:35 a.m. ] So, it's four forty, and I'm up, and my mind has completely left me. I woke up around three thirty, and I haven't been able nor wanted to get back to sleep. The last week has been one wild ride. My head's still spinning. Every time I think I can see where the plot's headed, there's a new twist. Seriously, ever felt like you woke up one morning in a TV show instead of your boring old life? Yeah. I'll tell you about it some time. When'd I last post? Weekend, right. I can't remember if I did anything remotely interesting on Sunday or Monday. I think I just stayed in bed or watched TV. A&E's changed around their daytime schedule, which is just weird. Tuesday it was back to the grind at work. Right now I'm killing time by "learning" Visual Basic, that is, writing a Minesweeper clone. (I finished Minesweeper as an Access form last week, and stuck it in the database. You can get to it by an invisible button on the main menu.) Of course, I suppose I am actually learning things as I go along. When I'm not doing that, I'm playing PilotMines, chatting with whoever'll talk to me, or writing letters to ChiQui that I most likely won't send. (The letters are more like to a diary, but I feel weird writing to no one, so they're to ChiQ.) The other co-worker has started accompanying me on my daily trip to Second Cup. It's cool having someone to talk to, instead of just sitting there alone. He also pointed out to me that if I went out the back door, I could shave over a block from my walk. You learn something new each day... :-P When was it? Wednesday night, I did something completely bizarre and unlike myself. I picked up the phone and called someone, just to chat. I'm not sure if I've ever done that before, like, in my life. I also bought jeans that night. I haven't had jeans in years. Mom and I went to Yorkdale, originally just to pick up hairspray and a permanent marker, but we ended up staying a little longer. We had a great time. Then at eight forty-five we were in The Gap, and I realised that I had fifteen minutes to make it home for The West Wing. I turned on the TV just as the episode title was displayed. Damn fine night. A guy at the Telus store commented on my Neopets necklace; I was damn impressed--he's the first person who's known what it is. I just switched CD's, from NIN (The Fragile, of course) to Beth Orton. It's five thirty. My alarm goes off at six, though I don't make it out of bed 'till almost seven these days. I don't know if I should still go to sleep for a while. It would just be a bitch to get up, you know? Maybe half an hour... Wait, one more thing. To all my friends who seem rather crazy and stressed these days, if you ever need a break from it all, my door's open. Feel free to come over, have some popcorn or some chocolate, and watch a movie. Just call first. :-) You and me, If the world should break in two, Until the very end of me, Until the very end of you.