Kat’s Pause 

I spent most of yesterday lying in bed with Ning watching movies. Maybe I’m strange, but I happen to enjoy that very much, so I had a good time. Coming home was kind of messy because I missed the 8:30 bus and then the 11:00 bus was delayed for an hour, which was annoying, but at least I wasn’t stuck there overnight. (Not that Ning or I would have minded, but it wouldn’t make my parents too happy. They might think I was lying so that I could spend the night.)

And he told me today that if we get married, I have to bake him cookies every week. Is it bad that I wouldn’t mind?

(Except for the “if” — I mind that a little because he used to say “when.” But that was back when we said we’d save sex for marriage… silly romantic nonsense.)

I wonder how long it will go on?

Oh hey, I just realized that appears metaphorical. Well it wasn’t, but I suppose it could be. Joy.

for Ning <3

Because I suck at buying things for guys, and all the guys I’ve asked have shrugged and said “I don’t know.” Then my dad suggested food and I went with that.

I’ll probably write him something too. Be warned, it may involve tasty multicoloured peaches. We shall see.

I was in a terribly good mood seeing Freedomland today, even though it sucked a little. Hope I didn’t annoy Dave too much laughing at everything.

Been mopey tonight after having three sets of plans cancelled. Sitting at my computer all Friday night waiting for a message is about as depressing a social life as it gets. A larger part of me than I’d like to admit wishes I’d gone to the grade 12 formal tonight, just to have something to do — but I know that’s not worth $40.

Looks like I’ll be going up to Waterloo again this Sunday for our one-year dating anniversary; commence the scraping of the pennies.

blah blah blah miss Ning blah blah lonely blah blah wah

Seriously. I can’t get past the white army boy look… but I still want to see him. Sigh.

The interview this morning went really well, despite such mishaps as my mother waking me up too early and then me having to wait for my sister to get out of the bathroom to have a shower. I wrote the article during my co-op hours and sent it off to be approved. The editor I’m working with won’t be in until Monday, so that’s when we’ll discuss it. I don’t know if it’ll run in the paper or not; I wouldn’t mind either way.

My shoulder and stomach really hurt today. I miss Ning. But Khuffie joined i-m and Ning made some more posts and it’s not dead yet, hooray!

Edit: OH MY GOD SHE KISSED HIM!

Interview tomorrow at 10:30. I thought I’d be nervous and prepping all night, but I’ve been lazing around playing Starcraft and the Sims and dabbling with some writing. Probably because I’m tired, thanks to my mother deciding to be motherly and wake me up this morning far too early. Fortunately though, my teeth don’t hurt nearly as much as I thought they would from the repositioning, and I don’t have to wear elastics anymore. If this is timed just right, my braces will be off about a month before I go away to school, which would be fabulous.

It was a good day today — talking about my work with my supervisor and setting up that interview kicked me out of last night’s mopiness (complete with warm bubble bath until the water goes lukewarm). I made the mistake earlier of telling my mother Ning was coming, so now she won’t stop asking me why he’s not here and if everything’s okay. When will I learn to keep things to myself?

Obviously never, or I wouldn’t be here.

I was supposed to call someone and set up an interview today, but she wasn’t in. Kind of glad. Kind of nervous.

The guy whose desk I’m borrowing asked me today if I was interested in journalism. I’ve always said no, but I feel weird saying that in the newsroom… it’s going to a photo gallery and proclaiming photography isn’t truly art — to the artist. So I said I wanted to see if it’s something I want to do for a living, which is sort of true. I guess I wouldn’t mind it, but something about journalism has just never appealed to me. So what DO I want to do? Well, I don’t like poetry. Some is very enjoyable, but as a whole, there’s too much I don’t understand or like. I was reading Margaret Atwood’s You Are Happy today, and some is really cool, but some parts do nothing for me. I like writing non-poetry things, but as I’ve said a hundred times before, that’s not something I can rely on to pay the bills. The only way I would consider teaching is if it were university-level, and that requires way more schooling than I have planned.

The most appealing thing to me right now is editing. Even copy-editing sounds fine.

I want to say more things but at the same time, I don’t feel like it. I’m tired and I miss Ning and I’m really disappointed that he’s not coming to see me like he said even though he has a perfectly good reason for it. I want something to write but I feel like my writing is awful and worthless unless it’s both wonderfully inspired AND picked at for hours.

I have an orthodontist appointment tomorrow. They’re going to readjust my braces, and it will hurt.

Edit: Holy crap I can’t find a way to end this post that doesn’t sound disgustingly emo. Seriously. Bleh.

Co-op is swell. There was nothing to be done today because my supervisor wasn’t in and neither was the lady who had an assignment for me yesterday (which I didn’t receive because of the snow day). So I went to the library and helped the nice ladies archive old pictures from CDs, and while the files were copying to the database I did some research on the long-term project my supervisor mentioned Wednesday. I made a big dent in the pictures and got a substantial start on the faraway project, plus the librarians like me. All is well.

I’m really liking the lack of supervision. It’s not daunting or unmotivating like I’d feared; maybe it will be in the future, but for now the freedom is enjoyable.

Today was a cyclical mix of good, bad and bleh.

Good: It’s payday. Now instead of being in debt, I have about $15 to my name in the whole world.
Bad: The miserable weather and the fact that I slogged through slush all the way to school just to find out it’s closed because of that same weather.
Bleh: Not getting to do co-op; it’s only my second day and I’m rather enjoying it.
Good: Running into a friend on the bus — he’s at York now, so it was a pleasant surprise.
Bad: Not getting to hang out with him for longer than 15 minutes. Also I’m jealous that he’s moving into a ridiculously amazing house with his girlfriend next term. Grrr!
Bleh: Coming home and being bored; nothing to do here but laundry
Good: Finding a PoP soundtrack in the mail, courtesy of Ren! Plus a valentine (only one I’ve gotten this year) and a little Ren drawing that I can touch. With my fingers. Touchytouchytouch.
Bad: I’m still stupid about skins and can’t work a couple that I really like.
Bleh: Still bored. Very thirsty. Always hungry. Too much laundry… I’m so looking forward to only doing my own in residence instead of my whole family’s.

Co-op today went well… we had a tour of the newsroom (busy and confusing), went down to see the printing press (big and loud), met a ton of people (all very nice). We now have something to do in case we’re not giving any work — archiving images, yay. Humm, not much to say, things are going fine, blah blah.

I really want something to write about, especially some kind of article to publish. Got a couple ideas, but nothing great.

I’ve determined that the purpose of Valentine’s Day, other than making money, is to make every person — single or attached — feels varying degrees of disappointment. Single people are miserable because they’re alone, attached guys have to run around doing and buying bullshit for their girlfriends, and attached girls can never have a day that’s quite perfect or special or romantic enough. Myself, I’ve done and received nothing this Valentine’s Day, which is fine with me; I prefer to ignore the “holiday.” But it’s just another reminder that I miss having Ning around.

I watched The Notebook a couple days ago, because a friend wanted to. Didn’t like it — it started off weird and quickly became predictable. I thought it was obvious from the very beginning who was who and what was going on. It’s not worth my time to talk about it any more than that. Suffice it to say that I hate chick flicks. Although I did enjoy Love Actually, but that had some brains and humour and lovely British accents.

Bleh, behind in my posting. Supposed to start co-op at my placement tomorrow. A little nervous. Hopefully my irresistible charm will carry me through and I can float on a cloud of charisma… har har.

Late but treasured:

Cubic zirconia is the win! Too bad I fail at taking pictures. It looks prettier on me finger.

Had a lovely day. Even the hour-and-a-half-long bus rides up and back were pleasant, and I’ve almost finished reading Forrest Gump now. Not even Stealth spoiled the day, and that is one sucky movie. Special effects do not excuse ANYTHING.

One of the highlights, which happens to be non-Ning-related, was finding (and purchasing) a metal box of mints shaped and coloured like an NES controller. Sa-weet! I plan to store precious things in that box. I’d post a picture, but it’s late and dark and I don’t feel like finding the camera and connecting the USB and all that. I’ll do it tomorrow along with a picture of my new ring. <3<3<3 Just because I love makin y’all sick!

On the topic of Southernness… lately I have the irresistible urge to say “sugar” far too often, typically when talking to Ning. I said it twice tonight and once today, and believe me, that is far too often. I can’t help it, it just slips out! It feels so natural! Oh ma gawd, I can’t talk good no more. Kiss that English major goodbye!

…Kidding. I’m actually really excited about going into the program, especially since my average has improved. I feel pangs of regret about not attending a more prestigious university, but this is where I want to go. And no, not just because it’s a couple minutes away from my darling, or because it makes my parents feel better to have me close to home, or because I know I’ll get in. Those reasons certainly all count, but it IS a good university — I like the small campus and other things I’ve read about it (in places other than its own website. I have brains).

I’ve decided that five and a half weeks is too long to spend apart, and I’m determined not to let it happen again, even if that means learning how to drive — which, by the way, scares me, although I haven’t admitted it to anyone irl.

I didn’t do the supplementary application. The short story is that I got busy and forgot about it; the long story is that I just don’t see a point to it. I know just how much I’d suffer trying to answer everything perfectly, and for what? To get rejected and not even care about that? Whatever. I have a feeling I should care more, but… I just don’t.

In better news, I’ve stopped feeling grumpy and short-tempered; I’ve been happy because I get to see Ning in *counts* 12 hours. Yay! Also Matt’s comments and Dave’s custom CD cheered me up quite a bit. Plus playing the guitar… that’s a fun thing to do. Lastly, there’s a bottle of Bawls in my fridge, and the fact that I’m not drinking it now means that I will get to later. It is a happy existence, this.

>.>

Yes, that’s exactly what I want to see after a 50-minute silence and a 5-week absence: an emoticon whose too-frequent use has rendered it functionally meaningless.

I’ve been getting really frustrated with people lately — people I like, people who haven’t actually done anything to deserve my impatience and bitterness. I guess I just don’t like humans. Hopefully I can fix myself before I end up like Some People, nicer to strangers than friends.

Retaliation:

<.<

Started this a while ago, then forgot about it. Neutral mood + mellow Ben Folds Five songs = sad poetry. Needs some polishing.

Once upon a time
There was a little girl
who dreamed of being a princess.
Then one day
A knight came for her on a shining steed of white metal
and took her away to his castle
in a magical grown-up land.

And I laugh
trickling drops
of heavy mercury
until they obscure our fisheye vision
and things look just as we think they should.

When the rainbows faded
and the glitter dissolved
“I love you forever�
turned into
“I love you tonight�
Soon she wondered when the magic had left its wand
and why it was so hard to hold on to.

And I sing
silver bells
but you only hear the tarnish
I make a wish on a scummy pond
but it’s dried up and tired of magic
And happily ever after didn’t last long enough.

She wondered where the magic went when it dissipated –
Did it find another lucky little girl?
Did it live in her eyes and ears
and filter the grey world rosy and sweet?
Did it rise and twinkle with the stars?
Did it turn to dust and blow away and settle down
to get brushed off the boots of passers-by?

And I cry
mermaid tears
to make you understand –
I take the diamonds from your eyes
and show you that the fairy tale ended long ago,
And I’m too old to be a princess,
And you’re too careless to save me,
And happily ever after didn’t last long enough.

I loooove getting pampered. My friend invited me to a Mary-Kate-esque party tonight for Aloette products, and now my skin feels all pretty. I wish I could afford to buy some, or go to a spa place sometime. It’s such a nice girly treat.

Speaking of being a girl, I thought I’d compile a list of all the things I’m doing to prepare for seeing Ning this Saturday:
- wax + shave legs + special shave minimizing lotion
- wax upper lip (Slavic blood means I have more facial hair than some men) and don’t touch it for 24 hours or I’ll break out… I still have a scar from the last time, grr
- tweeze eyebrows… I’m too cheap to get them waxed more than once every couple months, so that means spending extra time trying to tame them into a nice shape
- use (’spensive) pore-cleaning strips on my stubborn nose, which inevitably leaves it glue-sticky and only marginally improved
- trim + file fingernails and toenails + apply some sort of polish, probably clear because colours turn my nails yellowish
- slather hair with gallons of frizz-taming product, or else shove it into three fuzzy French braids for a day so that it goes wavy and looks purposely uncontrolled
- moisturize poor winter-dry hands and lips, and maybe face too so that I can apply makeup without it looking like a flaky mess
- sharpen eyeliner, which requires buying a sharpener… one day. For now I’ll continue to steal my sister’s
- thin out bangs, which may require buying thinning scissors, but more than likely I’ll just play with them until they look better… or else get them razored by someone who knows what they’re doing
- luckily I already dyed my hair two weeks ago, so all that’s left is to use the two-week follow-up conditioner Thursday when I wash my hair… yes, I plan out when I’m going to wash my hair

These are the times I’m a little glad that Ning doesn’t read my blog; all the things I do to feel pretty…

1. What personal weakness would you like to work on in the next few years? Why?

Gawd, what kind of first question is that?? I have to start off by telling them what’s wrong with me? And I have to pick ONE thing??

2. If you could ask one question and seek a scholarly answer, what is the question? How would you seek an answer?

All my philosophy-student instincts want to ask grand questions about the nature of reality and Truth and Goodness and Beauty and all that. Unfortunately I haven’t a clue how to seek an answer, or whether they count as “scholarly” anyway. I guess I should ask something about medicine? But then, all I can think about is medical ethics… philosophy class only ended a week ago. Hmm well, I guess metaphysical questions about the universe might not be too much of a stretch… but that’s physics and I hate physics, gah.

3. What does it mean to be an educated person?

You know a lot of stuff?
Again, all the wrong instincts are kicking in — I’m thinking of knowledge and wisdom and stuff I learned in church. Educated… has education… went to university… because they were better than me at filling out these applications, or else they didn’t have to rely on the application because they already had good math and science marks…

4a. Please describe a non-academic aspect of your life that you feel is important to your sense of self and explain why.

Hmm. Sense of self. With my constant self-analysis, this should be easy. I think it’s important to know one’s strengths and weaknesses and figure out how to apply them to other aspects of your life… so I guess here I could talk about how writing -> communication -> mad skillz everywhere. But I have a feeling that’s not answering the question quite as precisely as I like to. Sense of self, sense of self. Hmm.

4b. Please tell us whatever else you feel we need to know to understand you as a “whole person” and one who would fit our programme.

Best kind of supplementary — open and rambleable! I’ll just brag about my great work ethic and perfectionism and dedication to schoolwork and education and such. Okay, maybe I won’t lie about the work ethic. But the rest is true, really!

I also need a reference, and for a last little dig, I get to choose my “future career goals” from a drop-down menu. I’m deciding between HSc Graduate Studies, Medical, Optometry (hey, sounds interesting), Undecided, and Other [English]. I want to go with Undecided, but it looks so wimpy.

Someone remind me why I applied to a program I can’t and don’t want to get into.

I still feel sick, but I’m tired of putting this off. So. Cutting through all the superficial stuff about pregnancy, labour and parenthood such as pain/discomfort and cleaning up gross messes, there are still issues that stop me from wanting to have children: what it all comes down to is fear. I’m afraid of:

- screwing up my life, feeling like I’ve permanently crippled myself or thrown away my life, and resenting my child for that

- screwing up my child’s life by being one of those incredibly demanding parents who sticks their kid into every imaginable sports/music/anything program in the hopes of chiselling out a miniature genius, as well as spoiling them and giving in to them in the hopes that they won’t hate me — also, I’d be an overprotective germaphobe, not letting anyone else touch them, etc

- screwing up my relationship with the child’s father if he doesn’t like my parenting or decides I’m not a good mother or we have some sort of disagreement or anything…

I’m sure I thought of other things before, but I can’t remember now. Oh well, I’ll probably update later.

I don’t like modern poetry, and I don’t “get” it. A couple days ago I was sleep-deprived and a little ill, and in the morning I realized that the random thoughts floating through my fried brain resembled nonsensical “modern” poetry. So I wrote some down, then came up with a bunch more. Some lines are more awake than others, while a couple are purposefully random, but most are just extremely vague, strange, and/or meaningless. And I still can’t figure out how to preserve indents or funny spacing, bleh.

My random friend, my furniture comrade
ochre tasks await; paranoid polaroids
a thousand crystals dance liquid in moonglow
mucous whores rumba in the ferny evening
in pixie-picketed places where no man has breathed
a peach in its innocent fuzz – undisturbed.

bad news sits like evergreen needles
as vaguely archaic as crossing guards
proudly lost, salamander’s delight
saucerful of Chaucer
a bottle of pirate clichés
broken-grammar promises in six pages of spam

messy curtains speak of scalloped friendliness
days of fruitcakes and blue greeting cards
sugar grass like shattering glass
like a shimmering class of fresh faces

crisp as a grill, as an orange OPEN sign
sickening hope reads “For Sale�
daffodils watch disdainfully from below

arbitrary phone number
an accidental pause
the roar of an ignorant flag
misplaced street lamp having an identity crisis
desolation in a winter tree, in graffiti’d mailboxes

waterlogged basements moan
corridors pillow-soft with mousehair
faded stripes ashamed of their atrophied vigour
paperclips with plastic fury bang and clatter
existential rubber bands brood over bright colours
changing hotel lightbulbs
ignomious; a gnome; hearts of caffeine and hard lemonade

symbiotic syllogism
in a language you think I don’t understand
(so what if I don’t?)

guitars whine about electric regret
camouflaged love
a backwards gyro, rogue morsel
circles of rambling palindromes

conformists try desperately not to conform to nonconformity
eyebrows too thin, ubiquitous earbuds and eyeliner
fake snakeskin sings an ironic tune and taunts tennis shoes
a mole of pity; chronically spiked hair
salt-and-pepper hood, a period piece
joyful earrings gape at wanton construction
the lie of progress.

game-stained thumbs
reeking of philosophy and half-ideas

a rude red scarf on a lady on a bus
traveling to filth, destruction, success
traffic jam blinks off and on
waking up to bored reality

Edit: brilliant, I bop j00 now!

Calculus: 82 (75 on the exam)
Not as good as I’d hoped, but still my highest math mark since grade 9.

Lit Studies: 92
Could’ve been higher.

Philosphy: 92
Quite happy with this.

I’m leaning toward English for a major — without calc or chemistry, my admission average will be very pretty (91-92). That means bigger scholarships and possibly nicer residence choices. And frankly, I love manipulating the language and that’s never going to change. Plus a few friends have advised me that an English degree is more versatile than a BSc. The only problem is that I listed psych as my first choice on my application, and I’m not exactly sure how that affects my admittance, especially with the single-program supplementary application I still need to submit. I guess I’ll call somebody.

I’m really tired and still slightly sick right now, so I’ll save my parenting rant for later. Off to sleep or play BGE.

Update: I changed my application so that English is now my first choice. Woot!

When searching for songs by artist, there are always a few hard-to-download ones. So you patiently wait for them, repeatedly clicking “Find more sources” and “Resume Download” as necessary, until finally eight letters spell out satisfaction: COMPLETE. Then you listen to it… and… it’s not all that great. Barely worth the trouble. So you think, Curses! All that trouble for naught! Then you realize… that’s why it was obscure in the first place.

Then you forget about it and do the same thing with a different band the next day.

Lazed around today, didn’t leave the house. Strangely though, my hair looks nice; I finally got my bangs cut yesterday and trimmed them some more myself today, and I found an anti-frizz product that works decently. (Although not as well as the kind my sister had that disappeared from stores as soon as I tried to buy it for myself.) Also I shaved my legs. Woot for feeling feminine.

High points of the day:
- Downloading a whole bunch of music and discovering Apocalyptica’s cover of the Zelda theme
- Finally finding the Radiohead song that contains the melody that’s been in my head since last July (according to the creation date of the NWC file in which I wrote down what I could remember) — “Airbag”
- My mother finally coming around to the idea of me going to visit Ning. I’ve decided to be nice to her and not stay overnight… for a while, anyway. He’ll be glad that a visit no longer means me risking getting disowned.

I could listen to Mogwai alllll day.