My body refuses to stay asleep lately — I don’t remember the last time I slept through the night. I am so sleep-deprived I can feel my immune system deteriorating.
Still trying to sort out stuff. Increased my dosage of antidepressants on the good doctor’s orders, am seeing yet another therapist, and talking to school-people about career options. Imploring those around me for help beats blundering about in the dark, dropping classes and changing majors.
I am back from the Bahamas. It was wonderful, even though I still have a cold. Pictures coming soon.
I have my macbaby back, with a shiny new top. The trackpad feels different — less smooth. I’ll just assume they gave me an upgrade. Anyway, everything works beautifully. So it’s time to do something I’ve been waiting a long time for:
l ; ‘
OH YEAH.
I am getting a cold. I leave in four days. I cannot take any cold medication whatsoever because of my antidepressants. I am not happy.
I finally dropped off my laptop for repairs. I’ll get it back all shiny and ant-free on Monday.
Climbing today was excellent. I cleaned the 5.7 I was huffing and puffing up yesterday, and was flashing up a harder 7 I couldn’t even start at my peak last year — until I had to come down because my hands were too raw to grip. My skin is still holding me back, but it’s getting nice and callused. Soon I’ll have climbers’ hands.
That is, until I leave for the Bahamas on Wednesday and get nice and pampered. mmmm.
I finally dropped off my laptop for repairs. I’ll get it back all shiny and ant-free on Monday.
Climbing today was excellent. I cleaned the 5.7 I was huffing and puffing up yesterday, and was flashing up a harder 7 I couldn’t even start at my peak last year — until I had to come down because my hands were too raw to grip. My skin is still holding me back, but it’s getting nice and callused. Soon I’ll have climbers’ hands.
That is, until I leave for the Bahamas on Wednesday and get nice and pampered. mmmm.
I went climbing yesterday. It was glorious… and by glorious, I mean embarrassing, as I was struggling with 5.7s, but I don’t care. I WENT CLIMBING.
Actually, it was a pretty happy time. I met up with one of the guys in my swing-dancing class, and once there ran into an old high school/violin friend, said hello to a couple of my coworkers, and played with the dogs that constantly roam around the gym. I’m going again tonight, despite my sore limbs and arthritic joints. The skin on my hands is getting stronger and I refuse to let it go soft again.
Other happy news: I passed calculus with a D+ because they bell-curved the marks (otherwise most of the class would have failed, including me). I need a C- to stay in Honours Psych, but I also need stats, which I dropped. So I’m currently reevaluating my major. I’m glad I have calc as a credit though; less money and time wasted.
Even more happy news: Remember Mariposa? The company went out of business — all 150 stores across Canada, bye-bye. When I heard that, I laughed and laughed. Good riddance.
I went climbing yesterday. It was glorious… and by glorious, I mean embarrassing, as I was struggling with 5.7s, but I don’t care. I WENT CLIMBING.
Actually, it was a pretty happy time. I met up with one of the guys in my swing-dancing class, and once there ran into an old high school/violin friend, said hello to a couple of my coworkers, and played with the dogs that constantly roam around the gym. I’m going again tonight, despite my sore limbs and arthritic joints. The skin on my hands is getting stronger and I refuse to let it go soft again.
Other happy news: I passed calculus with a D+ because they bell-curved the marks (otherwise most of the class would have failed, including me). I need a C- to stay in Honours Psych, but I also need stats, which I dropped. So I’m currently reevaluating my major. I’m glad I have calc as a credit though; less money and time wasted.
Even more happy news: Remember Mariposa? The company went out of business — all 150 stores across Canada, bye-bye. When I heard that, I laughed and laughed. Good riddance.
I love watching the soap turn grey when I wash the rope grease off my hands.
Been working at the gym as much as my delicate fingers will allow. I can do about four hours now before my skin gets too raw and I can’t comfortably hold the rope.
I love watching the soap turn grey when I wash the rope grease off my hands.
Been working at the gym as much as my delicate fingers will allow. I can do about four hours now before my skin gets too raw and I can’t comfortably hold the rope.
Awake because I can’t sleep. I fell happily asleep around 11, but woke up an hour or two later to anxiety. When the attack didn’t come but the nervous insomnia wouldn’t pass, I unwrapped myself from his arms so that at least one of us could sleep, and sought distraction from my laptop. Calmer now, but still awake.
What a mess things have become. No wonder cleaning the Boy’s house gives me such joy; I crave order. Purging of the unwanted. We’re giving three garbage bags full of his old clothes to charity. I thought about moving in to his new apartment with him, but he doesn’t have much space there, so I’ll probably just do as I do now and almost-live there. Come October, my sister is getting married and moving out. I don’t want to live here alone with my mother.
I guess I haven’t announced yet that The Boy and I got back together. We did. Things are pretty good… we’re going to the Bahamas in three weeks. It’ll be nice.
Update on the Macbaby: I took it in to McMaster (ironically), and they ordered a new laptop top for me without so much as a curious question. Because it’s still under warranty, I pay nothing, and I get to keep it until the part arrives.
To you Mac-haters: May I remind you that I am responsible for breaking these keys. And the other day my mother dropped her bike on my laptop while it was open — barely a 2mm dent and no functionality problems. So yeah. Macs rule.
My last exam is over, it is warm outside and I just saw an ice cream truck. SUMMER HAS BEGUN.
Bugs + OCD = Oh God What Have I Done
Sooo I may have broken the macbaby a little bit trying to kill the ants. As per Tiffany’s suggestion, I vacuumed them out of the keyboard, but in my still-panicked state I also sprayed bathroom cleaner on my computer. The kind with enough bleach to give it that swimming-pool smell for days. Shortly after that, my L key stopped working and my trackpad refused to tap-click. Already late for swing-dancing, I left the computer turned on and ran out the door, hoping that maybe when I got back, it would have grown white blood cells and repaired itself.
Well, when I checked on it today, the trackpad is working fine, but the list of keyboard casualties has grown to include the semicolon and apostrophe. In practical terms, no emoticons or contractions. And you would not believe how many words contain the letter L. I’ve copied a lowercase L to my clipboard to make typing possible — thank God the V key still works. Tomorrow I’ll bring the ‘baby in to Mac and hope that someone knows what to do. I can see it now:
Tech: Why does this thing smell like bleach?
Me: I, um, really can’t imagine–
Tech: Are those… ant carcasses? Dear god, they’re everywhere! Jesus, THEY’RE STILL ALIVE!
*we both run screaming from the room*
This blog post is brought to you by a little tool called Keyboard Viewer.
My laptop is infested with ants.
My laptop is infested with ants.
They are crawling out of my keyboard while I type.
Tonight I’m helping my friend stay up all night to write her thesis. She’s working and I’m killing time to the sound of Chopin and my heater purring on its lowest setting — hoorah for spring.
I suppose I’ll go do a fourth load of laundry, then maybe play some Beyond Good & Evil until Tim Horton’s starts serving breakfast sandwiches at 5am. After that I may sleep; I can feel my immune system becoming compromised.
It took a friend’s cajoling to get me to dust off this blog and give it some love. Things went frighteningly quickly from “I have nothing to write about” to “so much has happened, I don’t know where to begin.”
So, in short. I’m failing calculus by about 3% and I recently failed a biology test… not sure how that happened. Broke up with The Boy (again). My two favourite fish died. Went to a couple more formal events, including Nat’s drama banquet, putting this school year’s total over half a dozen.
Things have been messy, to say the least. A lot of drama that actually makes me glad most of the people I met swing-dancing are leaving this year. The only thing sadder to lose than an old friend is a new friend.
Favourite things recently: breakfast sandwiches, How I Met Your Mother, Iron & Wine, playing dress-up, sleeping not-at-night.
March, and spring has decided to pop in for a visit. It is 8 degrees above zero (46F for you Imperials) and the sidewalks are flooded with melting snow. It feels disrespectful to wear a coat.
Yet I’m sitting in the eternal summer of the atrium in MDCL, spoiled by the ferns and waterfall. Two walls of this wedge-shaped room are glass, the sunlight enhanced by bright spotlights above my head and in the ponds. It is a beautiful day.
Against all odds, I stopped whining and wrote my lab report two hours before it was due. With the help of an $18 cab ride, I handed it in one minute before it was due. It’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever produced, but any mark is higher than 0, right? Anyway it’s only worth 6%.
Ben and I are much better. I am also much better. After I collapsed in a little crying ball at his house, we went out for pool, and then he drove me home and I watched Scrubs, which always helps.
Things are different… insecure. I wish they would go back to the way they were. I wonder if they can.
In other news, I seem to have become an INFJ. I was always an INFP, but in recent times have tested as INTP, and three different tests have just told me I’m INFJ. All I want is to be consistent, to have some kind of reliable self-image. Instead I’m a bundle of contradictions held together by confusion.
Almost broke up with The Boy. Twice. Dropped stats and so vowed to go to all my classes from now on. Have missed two of two today. Still have the cold I caught in Florida. Want to go back to bed.
Update: Make that three out of three classes, and I’m officially single.
Update #2: The singleness got reversed. If you’re confused… join the club.
So in hindsight, I probably should have told more people in advance, but anyway here I am. The plane ride (my first) was fun, and the weather is lovely.
My whole family is down here, mother, father, two sisters, plus Ben, for a reunion. Today we visited my aunts and uncles and their families where they’re staying in an army base. We ate fried fish that my uncle caught, filleted and cooked himself. Battered shrimp as well. I’ve never had fresh fish before — it was crazy delicious, and I hate seafood.
After dinner we walked down to the dock and waded through minnows over white sand. I took some pictures with a cousin’s camera, and my sister was kind enough to snap a nice one of Ben and me.
More later. I still have to upload pictures from my own camera.
Fight with Boy, then bad dreams in which we broke up (but got back together), then woke up and tried to write my paper (due Monday) but fell back asleep and had more bad dreams, this time about murder and hallucinations. Fight is still unresolved, Boy is clueless.
The charity ball Friday night was pretty fun, but I enjoyed New Years more because it was an older crowd. We’re talking swing music versus SexyBack. It should be obvious what I prefer, being a snob who hates anyone around my age or younger.
The only time I mind not writing in my blog is when stuff actually happens. Well, stuff happened, but I’ve been busy and more or less living at The Boy’s house. He got hurt, then his cat got hurt, then I got sick. Meanwhile, my cat has this weird awful rash thing that seems to be getting worse, and my mother keeps putting off taking her to the vet (without a vehicle, I can’t do it). I’m increasingly behind in school, which was not helped at all by sleeping all day today, although that helped my cold a lot.
The one thing I wanted to mention was that the manager of my city’s climbing gym asked me to do a shift there, which I happily did despite being very confused by his request, seeing as how I’ve only belayed a handful of times in my life. But there was nothing difficult about the work, just harnessed up a bunch of nervous people and belayed them for two hours. My hands were rubbed pretty raw by the end of it, but my muscles were fine — I need to build up calluses. Which means climbing more often. Which isn’t happening: the Boy who promised to take me climbing has steadfastly refused because he hurt his wrist and can’t climb himself. He could just belay me, thereby fulfilling his promise, but he doesn’t want to. Somehow I’m not surprised.
So here I am, muscles atrophying, skills returning to zero. I discovered a few nights ago that one of the guys I swing dance with climbs regularly, and we made plans to go today, but then I had to go and get a cold. This is the second known instance of wall-climbing and classical partner dancing going hand-in-hand, not counting myself: the night I worked, who should show up but a guy I took ballroom dancing lessons with years ago. Strange combination.
By the way, my calc test sucked. I knew about half the questions, and the rest was guessing of the purest sort.
Last night, a bunch of us from my university’s swing club hopped over to Toronto to crash their swing club. For once, I remembered to bring my camera, so I’ll post stuffs when I fetch it from Ben’s house. It was a lot of fun. Hooray for new friends! We were going to get drinks afterward, but by that time it was really late and we all just wanted to go back to our smelly city. Another time.
Everyone’s trying to talk me into going to the weekend-long exchange with U of T, despite my plans to go to McMaster’s charity ball that Friday night. I’d be more inclined to try to make it to the latter if they both didn’t cost money. Everything is money right now: my mark in calculus is going to be directly proportional to how much I pay to get privately taught everything from this class and everything I’ve forgotten from high school.
Forgot to mention: calc tutorial today has convinced me that it’s tutor or bust. Personality-wise, the tutorial leader is very much an awkward nerd, complete with ponytail and slight lisp, but that can be easily overlooked if he knows what he’s doing. Alas, I am less than inspired by, after he arrives at the ugly-looking ln(e^-6k) = ln(9/20): “Is that right? I hope that’s right. Yeah, that should be right. Okay, now we find k…”
Written like a story, because I have no stories to write
8:30am biology lab. I’m twenty minutes early and I have a headache. It’s the first lab of the term, but I meant to bring my lab coat just in case. I forgot to.
The walls are too white here; I welcome the rainbow colours of the janitor’s cart as it passes. Look out the window: so many students up so early. Wonder how much they slept.
There are other students, and they’re also hanging around room 207, looking nervous. More trickle in. I don’t see any lab coats, but then, we never put our lab coats on beforehand. Except that one time when I walked to class wearing mine. I secretly love my lab coat, with its rolled-up sleeves twice as long as my arms, the wrists yellowed from years of chemicals on the lab bench.
Biology labs always make me want to write. I’ve tried a few stories, but nothing worth continuing. I managed a poem, short and timid, more of a self-pitying lament than anything to do with the study of life.
My eyes keep straying to the janitor’s cart, parked across from me now. Red mop, green cloths, blue broom, and a huge yellow rubber sack. A very pleasant peacock-blue bucket sits beside it, the kind of blue that can do no harm, despite the yellow CAUTION triangle on its side. The colour relaxes me anyway.
People are moving. I almost didn’t notice, I was so focused on the blue bucket. The doors must be open. It’s time to start the lab.
Stats is much better than I’d feared. Maybe the prof just had a hangover on the first day, I dunno, but he’s a lot more of a normal human being today, albeit one with a very greasy ponytail. He’s drawing funny pictures on the overhead to illustrate mean and median in a distribution curve. I can certainly deal with that.
Bio is confusing me: too much biochemistry and too many formulas. I swore I’d read my textbooks on the weekend, but I didn’t. I haven’t actually bought my bio text yet — I’m holding out for someone to return theirs so I can save $40 getting it used. Can’t hold out much longer, though.
After stats (which I’m in right now) I’ll be getting in line for OSAP, after which I have Evil Math Class (calc) and then philosophy. I missed a lot of class last week, which I didn’t mention out of deep shame, so this week I’ll be playing catch-up. Not the greatest start to a hard semester.
One of my fish has developed an annoying habit of jumping up out of the water and landing in between the filter and the tank wall. Each time, I think he’s dead, but he always recovers from the trauma. One of these days he’s going to do it when I’m not around to rescue him. I’ve renamed him George Bush — always going places he shouldn’t.
Saw Juno tonight with brilliant and another friend. It was precious; I cried a little bit. Definitely earns my recommendation.
At Ben’s insistence, I took a belay lesson again. I’m glad I did, because I had trouble all today tying a proper figure-8 knot. Just wish they offered some kind of belay refresher course rather than having to start from scratch with the newbies. Though I helped them out a bit when I could… tried to limit my dispensing of advice to knot correction and encouragement so that I’m not responsible for anyone’s fatal injuries.
My hands have gotten wimpy and delicate again, and they very quickly got rubbed raw. It also didn’t help that I’ve been keeping my nails quite long for a photograph I want. Long nails and climbing do not mix. But I came out of the gym happy. Once I cut my nails and build up some calluses, I refuse to let anything stop me — school, dancing, insomnia, they can all suck it. Mostly because there’s no way I’m taking that lesson a third time.
My calculus class is a nightmare come true. In fact it is exactly as I’d imagined it: straining to decipher the equations a small white man scribbles without explanation on a blackboard rows and rows away from me. Except the professor has a French accent that makes his mutterings even harder to understand. I hadn’t imagined that part.
Bio prof is good, stats prof is the most depressing human being I’ve ever seen (think if Comic Book Guy suddenly realized how pathetic he was), and I’m on the fence about philosophy prof. He may possibly be a religious zealot, in which case I dread the upcoming lectures on abortion.
