Skirting the Mundane

Let's play a little game called "How Screwed Am I?" dealing mainly with the topic of my law essay and how bad it is. We have just had a massive punchy editing session and nearly died laughing for absolutely no good reason. But I have put this baby to bed; I am absofuckinglutely done obsessing over it.

Am having disturbing self-knowledge inquiry sessions lately, mostly with myself but also with others. I liked me better when I didn't know me very well.

Fuuuuuck, poli sci midterm on Tuesday. Oh, I am so not in a good place right now. As long as the hydro bill gets in on time, it'll be okay. What happened was that it mysteriously disappeared from my backpack for a few days, only to reappear between the pages of my new copy of The Name of the Rose. But it's in the mail now, the dastardly little envelope.

BUT on the bright side, we have just had a fantastic weekend with Fantastic Chris, who is still here, but is going back to Trent tomorrow. Photos from our Rocky Horror Picture Show adventure on Saturday night will be posted either here or on Capital, Capital shortly. Probably here, actually, because my mum and dad just don't need to see me dressed as a conventionalist/hoor. Fantastic Chris and Katherine are talking in the other room about... something. Chris has shocked us by taking up drinking black coffee and smoking thin cigarettes (but not in the apartment!) and being postmodernist. I can get behind two-thirds of those; she knows my thoughts on the other one. Chris went to Rocky Horror as Frank-n-Furter. Until you have been out to the show, it is impossible to understand how much fun it is to shout sexual innuendos at a movie screen for ninety minutes. Once you have started, you can never go back. Just as much fun was dressing up beforehand and putting all the makeup and costumes together and taking infinite sluttish photographs. Nate has shocked us by disappearing in a cloud of mystery to reappear in a pure black suit. He wore full makeup and big, crazy Teen Wolf hair. We were all very impressed.

Hey, it's Hallowe'en now! Happy Hallowe'en, everyone. For Hallowe'en, I'm planning on skipping out of poli sci to go study for my other poli sci! What larks! And happy birthday, Katherine. Or, as she said last night, contentedly and repeatedly, "it's my burfaday."

OK, here's the thing, Much Punch: I don't really want to hear lame rap songs while I write. What I want is to see the Kaiser Chiefs video, and then my life will be improved and birds will sing again. What I do not want, I repeat, is lame rap songs, including (for shame!) the same video twice in an hour. More Kaisers. Now. Mmkay?

Although Golddigger is kind of a good song, due to Jamie Charles/Ray Foxx. "We want pre-nupt! We want pre-nupt!"

This blog has been refusing to publish for a little while now, so I don't know if there is even any point in writing this. Hopefully Blogger will get its act together soon so you can all share in my sparkling insights once more. This post will be a bit random because I'm just sitting at my desk with a week's worth of thoughts.

One week ago I was getting off the train in Toronto, ready to case out the Exhibition grounds and make friends with security guards. We would have robbed, stolen, and given blow jobs to meet the band. But we didn't have to, we just stood about. It is a little bit bad to realize that was a whole week ago, though. All the glamour has dissolved and I am left with my regular life again -- as my Grannie says, we are "back to old clothes and porridge". It was a very excellent mini-break, though.

Hey, is anyone else really, really psyched about this indictment business? The Bush administration seems to be coming apart at the seams all of a sudden; between the unravelling of the situation in Iraq, Katrina, the Miers nomination, the Libby-Cheney-Plame leak inquiry, and the DeLay indictment. They finally seem to be getting their comeuppance from the reality-based community. It just would have been kind of nice if thousands of people hadn't had to die and hundreds of billions of dollars hadn't been wasted in order for the public to finally start seeing the light about this bunch.

Final American thing: go to Comedy Central and watch some Colbert Report. It's French, bitch! And he's having a good first week of the show. I love my Stephen.

So... writing my law paper. Still. It's evil. But socializing has been pretty good the past few days; Tom and Ho # 2 have both had good little chats with me about one thing and another. I'm really glad that Tom can talk to me about his loff life (he's just had a traumatic breakup, boo!). We'll probably get together at Christmas, since we really have not spent more than five minutes together since two Augusts ago. Which sucks.

Just called my mum and talked with her for a good forty-five minutes about my life. It is nice to have a mother.

Got a Hallowe'en card from my grandmother, which read in part: "Turbo goes into the vet's on Monday, to have his teeth cleaned. It is a big project -- they have to put him out, etc. He will be there from 8-3. Hope it all goes well." I have never met a more spoiled little dog than that one. The teeth-cleaning is just what he has to put up with in order to maintain his hopelessly luxurious lifestyle. As a friend of ours said about his dog, "hey, he lives in a spa."

What a meh kind of evening. I hate law, honestly, it is the weirdest subject.

Anyway.

Here is some Internet joy, courtesy of Katherine's musical web-savvy: OK Go's A Million Ways dance. I plan to have it memorized by next week.

Hello, all!

I've been feeling very ambivalent about today. On the one hand, have just had a fabulous concert experience with much craziness and excellence. (Alex Kapranos grabbed my leeeeeeeggg!!!!! OWNAGEWICOWICODNCDNCDNC *explosion and death*), but on the other hand, it is now "back to old clothes and porridge", as my Grannie says. I lost a button off my fantastic blue coat, so boo. Katherine is making me dinner, so yay. I saw two of the Emo Boys and discovered that one of their ex-girlfriends was at cross-country practice with us today (it was awesome). My geography TA, who is Peter Parker, clearly hates me, because I cross-checked assignments after getting mine back and he definitely marked someone else's mistake right and put red ink all over everything I'd written. Merci, Peter Parker. I weighed myself and have misplaced four pounds somehow, which is kind of nice because random weight loss never happens to me. I figure it's nervous energy; I've been jumping around everywhere because of concert glee, so it's minus one pound per member of Franz Ferdinand. Yes, indeed. Katherine has been mocking me about my consistency in telling every single member of the band my feeble Pantz Ferdinand pun. But you know what, beotch? I have a memory to treasure forever, for just a few brief moments of telling a bad joke and feeling like a wally. And pants, too. Treasurable ones.

Apparently Mum has given out the Capital, Capital address to one of her favourite grad students, Leyton. So, as best as I can figure, he is the mystery commenter on the gigantic hysterical photo-spewings I put up there last night. I think I've only met him once, but Mum has a picture of either him or his boyfriend (don't remember) posing with Yoda, so I give him full points for awesomeness.

After the afore-mentioned leg-touching, Alex pointed out that in the UK, I would have just requested that he sign my knickers (because pants/knickers = panties and trousers = pants), which was my obvious cue to talk for FIVE HOURS about what underwear and trousers are called where. Shut UP, me, they are from Scotland and not Mars. But, to his credit, he did not point this out, and complied with our photo request. Katherine tells me he smelled of alcohol, which I think is a wise strategy when meeting fangirls of any persuasion. I said "Goodnight!" as we were walking away, and Alex called out "nighty-night! Goodnight!" and it was totally adorable. And now if you'll excuse me, I need to go contemplate my own immaturity in disgust, and thank the Lord for the forbearance of minor celebrities who know on which side their bread is buttered (the fan side!).

Oh, no! My cheese toastie has just come out of the oven as not the setting I put it in at, but as Blowtorch Toast. All burnt! All burnt! Scrape, scrape, scrape.

Oh, God. I should not have gone out last night, despite the awesomeness of Saille and Rosina's crazy sexy party. I should have stayed home and studied for fucking environmental studies so that I do not fail this exam in the morning. Fuckfuckshit.

Red-Hot Love Life Update

Fooled you! It's anything but. Nathanael-who-is-not-Emily's-boyfriend (and isn't really mine either) is having some kind of thing where he wants a bit of time to think about where "this" is going. That's fine; it's not like I have anybody waiting in the wings. I'll stick around for a while. If he wants to think for a year, then that will not be so cool, but for now it really doesn't matter.

In other news, I went home for Thanksgiving this weekend. I saw most of the people I meant to, but didn't get to see Laura or Katie, which sucked. I tried to hang out with as many as I could, but Sunday was for the family and there were only so many remaining hours in the weekend. Saturday night a bunch of us went out to the Union Hall and danced like fools. Monday morning was a highlight: I ran with Mrs. Ash and then went to Katie F's to hang out with her, Keith, and Colleen, and two miniature horses (Governor and General). We made them do road races, and they were not impressed with us. They behave, basically, like dogs in a field made of biscuits, forever stopping to lean down and eat stuff. If you want them to go anywhere or do anything, you really have to tow them along. We took some truly hilarious videos where the silly things would stop just as you were towing them over a jump, and would refuse to go any further. Despite being slow, though, they are very sweet, also much like dogs.

Back in Ottawa. Stress is building -- law paper! law paper! Danger, Will Robinson! And environmental studies midterm on Monday. Oh, the glee. At least we did groceries today, so we have food to eat again. We had butternut squash for dinner tonight, cooked to perfection (sort of) by yours truly. I was rather proud, I was.