Kat’s Pause 

How do I get work experience in a particular area when all the jobs require work experience?

I didn’t think “entry level” meant “2-3 years experience.”

Staying up late reading a book about how important it is to follow Circadian rhythms and sleep early.

The Food Connection is mostly about what to eat and when, but he also talks extensively about natural sleep cycles and how ideally we should be rising and setting with the sun. Also it’s unhealthy to eat late at night, like after 7 or so. So ignore that bowl of Cheerios on my floor.

Last night was my high school’s grad dance. Since I missed my own last year because of mono, I went to my grade 12 friends’ this year. I saw only about two other post-grads there, and the only one I see outside of school was Andrea, but since she brought her boyfriend, we didn’t cling to each other all night.

I did not bring Ning. We both think he’s too old for high school dances, and he wouldn’t know anyone there aside from those aforementioned two anyway. So Dave, ever the gentleman, took me as his date and worked me into his circle of friends, most of whom I knew as aquaintances at best. They were very accepting, but not too much so — they didn’t go out of their way to include me in every picture or anything, which would’ve made me feel like awkward.

We all had a fantastic time. With the exception of the main course, dinner was quite good. The salad and dessert were excellent.

Hmm, I planned to talk about the preparation, hair and such, and how my dress, shoes and jewellery were all bought about two years ago only to languish unworn in my closet waiting for their inaugural use at graduation, but I’m tired so meh.

For photos: Enter the read-only password “friends” and click on the “Grad dance” sub-album near the top of the page. Despite my careful attempts, they are unfortunately out of order, but what can you do.

Had I known that in all this nonsense I would lose the respect of a valued friend, I would turn the clock back at so many points and undo every decision that has brought us all to this place. While I never could have predicted this would happen, I’ve made many bad choices in these last few months and all I can hope now is that the permanent damage won’t be too severe.

If it is, then I’ll take this opportunity to say goodbye. You’ve been a good friend for a year and a half and I’m sorry to have let you down.

Update: This slice of drama is happily over. Thank God; this post made me sad at first but now it’s beginning to make me gag.

I spent the better part of my time yesterday in a hot tub with Ning and his younger brother while their parents worked on the house. It was delicious.

We also played some pool and tested out the sauna. We might’ve gone swimming if we hadn’t found a dead chipmunk in the filter, but give it a couple buckets of chlorine and we’ll be “all up in” that.

I like his new house.

Today: A few hours in the US visiting my aunt and uncle, playing 10000 (the dice game) and watching hermit crabs and a pregnant shrimp. And a bunch of anemones. I started to compose a poem about the hermit crabs, but it just didn’t have audience appeal.

Today was my last official day at the Spectator. I have to pop in Monday to take care of a few last things, but this was my last logged, 3-hour day, and it was a good one. I was worried I wouldn’t have anything to do because I checked in my internet article to my supervisor yesterday and she doesn’t work Thursday or Fridays, but she stopped by just to see me even though it was her day off. She gave me a lovely Spectator bag as a parting gift and a few final suggestions for my article. I spent the next few hours hunting down one last statistic (the number of blogs out there) and one last quote (something from Dooce about the benefits of getting fired because of her blog) and generally being picky and fixing things. The other afternoon co-op student stopped by before she left to say keep in touch. At 3:00, I said goodbye to the Sports section people and the nice ladies in the Library — I’ll do my Go section goodbyes Monday. Promising myself it would be my last indulgence of the day after buying cookies and an iced cappuccino (with chocolate milk!) for breakfast, I got a Pepsi at the convenience store down the street. The radio was playing In the Cool Cool Cool of the Evening, which totally made my afternoon.

In the evening, Ning and I watched The Weatherman (pretty good, some very good parts) and had fun despite me scolding him for being mean to his little brother, who so desperately craves his approval. I’m eagerly awaiting being close to him in September, and summer will be nice in the meanwhile.

[Actually written at co-op yesterday]

Down a hallway a few twists away from the newsroom where I work is the coldest water fountain around. When I’m thirsty and without much work to be done, I go there because it’s quiet and empty. No ringing phones, laughing reporters, chanting soccer fans on TV.
Past the fountain, that hallway forms the vertical part of a T — the horizontal part being a glass-walled corridor on the outside edge of the building, from which you can look out onto the city two storeys below. There’s something very calming about watching the trees move in the wind without hearing the usual rushing sounds, and seeing the cars run seamlessly, endlessly, on the criss-crossing overpasses.

Being there is always a reminder that I am only a co-op student, because if they were paying me I wouldn’t waste time looking at scenery (so I tell myself). But it’s worth that feeling of smallness to find peace outside the hectic newsroom.

My older sister returned from her year-long stay in Switzerland today. We all remarked on how much it feels like she never left, but we’re all happy to have her back. I’m no longer the only heathen in the house!
Also: the IBM Thinkpad my daddy bought me arrived. Baby’s first computer of her own! I can’t believe it’s actually mine.

Lastly: I don’t like WoW. It is too big and it scares me. I feel stupid because I know so little but I worry that if I get more involved, I’ll get addicted. I already stayed up too late tonight because Ning was teaching me a bajillion things.

Well that wasn’t so bad. I finished my article on online identity…more or less… and whipped up a bibliography and title page to make it pretty and presentable for handing in tomorrow. I fussed over the bibliography for way too long (stupid school style guide not conforming to any bibliographic standards, grrrr), so I got started on the brochure quite late. But a couple hours later, without much regard to artistry (it’s information-centric and I don’t have colour ink anyway), my printer is chugging away on side 2 of a trifolded pamphlet summarizing all you need to know about Journalism, complete with a list of sources. You know, for all those hours and days of research I poured into this.
This is my last highschool project ever, and my last educational assignment for three months or so. Hallelujah.

I am Katarin of Shadow Council, fear my puny lvl4 human paladin wrath! Or whatever the crazy geeks say.

Just got off WoW. I killed some wolves and then Ren showed me around a bit and gave me some money to get started. It’s pretty fun so far but I think it’d be boring without friends.

Yaaawwwwn, time for bed now. I should’ve gone two hours ago.

World of Warcraft is installing as I type. My poor computer is making frighteningly loud noises and protesting with much slowness.

I fear the addiction is starting already; what I should be doing right now is starting the co-op brochure that’s due Wednesday and worth 10% of my final mark. Meh, I’ll do it tomorrow night. In a class full of slackers and potheads, mine will stand out even if I spend 15 minutes on it. I have the power of SOBRIETY on my side.

Oh my God this is SO SLOW. And there are FOUR more discs? Ridiculous.

I had a good time tonight. Ning bought me some nice shorts to match my new swimsuit (both white and pretty) and also WoW. I created an account and mucked around a little at his house while he explained things in his customary overwhelming rapid-fire way. He’ll slow down if I ask, but I think sometimes he forgets how new I am at RPGs. Later we shot pool for the first time together — he’s good. I’m not horrendous, I guess — my aim needs serious work and I’m still learning the rules for the first time, so he’s teaching me stuff. We went home when his stomach started bothering him, and after saying goodnight on MSN, I played a little Starcraft with Alex and his friend Alexey. Alex caused us horrible lag for some reason, so after he went to bed I stayed for a 1×1 with Alexey and he taught me how to play “for real.” One word: Overkill. Absolutely ludicrous and surreal overkill. I kept resisting building 30 hatcheries and a billion defensive colonies like him because how could that really be necessary? I asked him at least once if people always played like this, and he said yes. It was kind of him to teach me and not just rush me to death within ten seconds — he did come half-destroy my base a few times, but I was too stubborn to build in absurb numbers like you apparently need to with standard multiplayer. In the end I relented and began the road to absurdity for a little while before getting bored and letting him kill me off. He could have done it much more impressively than with only five attack groups (60 units total), but death was still swift and inevitable. I spent most of the game laughing. It was fun.

Of the orthodontic kind, that is.

At the beginning and end of your treatment, they take impressions of your teeth using a metal tray filled with squishy, artificially flavoured plaster stuff. (The first time, I got mint; today I had grape.) They press it once against your lower teeth, and refill it again to do the same to you uppers. This experience can range from unpleasant to downright frightening, when the pink gunk squooshes out of the tray and into your throat. It needs to be held in place for about half a minute, and those thirty seconds can stretch on for a terrifyingly long time when you feel the stuff oozing close to your throat and hardening there. I panicked a little today when they did my upper teeth, feeling small and silly in the dental chair as the assistant told me to say “ahh” if I felt it “tickling” my throat. This proved a decent distraction, but it couldn’t take away the sensation of oh my God, I’m going to choke to death here, or worse, throw up and embarrass myself.

I got through both impressions without dying or vomiting, and am now that much closer to getting my braces off. August 24 is the hopeful date — three days after my birthday and two days before Ning’s and my 18-month dating anniversary. How sweet. It would be great to get them off before I go to university.

I went wall-climbing yesterday for the first time in years and was disappointed to discover how weak my arms and fingers are. Quitting violin and my total absence of anything resembling exercise have left me with a puny, muscle-lacking body that is quickly becoming soft from disuse. Oh well, I was more or less expecting that. I figured I’d rest a few days and go again.

This morning I woke up feeling as if someone had ripped my legs from their sockets and replaced them with those of an 80-year-old woman. Stairs, oh god, have become small Everests to whimper and conquor. My hands are limp pieces of meat that seek the lowest possible level and remain there, cowering at the thought of having to move. Typing requires far too much energy and must be done in short bursts with frequent breaks. Sitting down is heaven.

I was expecting to be somewhat sore, not massively drained of energy. I didn’t know movement could be so difficult after so little work yesterday. Someone has siphoned all the power from my limbs, and it is with embarrassment that I can only point to myself as that malevolent creature.