Saturday, July 25, 2009


By Laura Marling
It's playing on my iTunes. I'm looking outside, and it's so dreary and I really would like some nice warm dry weather.

In spite of the rain yesterday and today, I had a blast "camping" with our cousins visiting from B.C. Our family and their family and a family that's friends with both of us all went to this like personal campground from someone's grandparents and it was sick. A swim-able pond, volleyball, a closed pavillion, a fire pit, the works. It was fun to hang out with my cousin Jono. He's 3 years younger than me but skipped a grade so he's entering grade 12 this year. I think that if his family had lived closer then me and him and our other cousin Laura would all have been tight. He's good at talking, too. Not that he talks a lot, but he's a good conversationalist (and uuuuuuber preppy, lol. my sister beats on him). I may fly to B.C. next summer and drive him back here so he can visit my family and the other family he knows. Speaking of which, I also really likes this other family. The oldest one (of 3 girls) didn't talk much. She read a lot and drank tea. Sound familiar? The next oldest one is a sports nut and really chatty but in a fun way. They go to EDSS so we whined about teachers and whatnot. I didn't really hear from the youngest one but she seemed really cool also. I've decided that our family should hang out with theirs more because I can actually stand them....

I've found it's really uncommon that I meet people that I actually like instantly. Maybe I was just been in the mood for it this weekend. I also don't usually enjoy my family, but I liked having my cousins here. I also had a fun chat with my aunts about university. My one aunt told me about how she had no idea what she wanted to do until like 3rd year so she just took random stuff. She said she thought about being a vet, but she's allergic to literally everything.

I love my aunts :)
and cousins :)
I've had a happy weekend thus far :)

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

I realized I hadn't written anything in a while.
It's not that I haven't been doing anything, it's that I haven't been thinking anything. Since I have nothing deep to share I'll just chatter about my life.

The last 3 days have been pretty solid. I worked 12 hour shifts at the plant to get a little extra $, which will be nice when my brand new visa bill comes in :D
I haven't used it for anything except dental work (which is frekken expensive!) and getting my van towed like 45 km the other day, but that's another story.
I don't mind working the 12 hour shifts actually. I mean, provided I get enough sleep. I only got 5 hours yesterday so on my shift at like 9am I was like falling asleep standing up.
And there is someone at the plant who keeps moving the frekken bookmark in my book! AAAARRRGH!!! So annoying! I think I'm going to quit using it altogether just to piss them off. I can remember page numbers.

Anyway, on the weekend (this is the van story) we were planning to go to Tobermory for the fun of it. We all headed out around 1030 and were plugging merrily along the highway when my van started to make the most outrageous screeching/squealing noise. I pulled over and turned it off, of course, and we had absolutely no idea what to do. Eventually we phoned the CAA and got a tow truck to come. While we waited for it, we took turns reading aloud from Kyle's book The Hogfather by Terry Prachett. I reccommend the first 4 chapters....
Eventually the tow truck showed up and he driver was a very nice person. I also reccommend John's Tow service from Fergus if you are stranded in the area...

I think I'm gonna go read webcomics and watch so you think you can dance with my sister. woot!

Sunday, July 12, 2009

This is becoming a habit

I had another really odd dream. Here you are, and then I will talk of this most interesting weekend.

I was in a competition. It was not unlike America's Next Top Model, but none of the judges were the same. I didn't actually know who the judges were. But we were in this challenge that we had to select our own outfits from this store (it was closed to the public for this event) and model them to the judges on this stage. It seemed to be in Conestogo Mall, but I think I was in the Guelph Bluenotes. First I couldn't find a bra, then I couldn't find stuff that matched. Everyone else was waaay ahead of me. I finally just chose this stuff and went out to the judging area. I foud an sheet that we were supposed to put our names on to determine the order of judging. There was only one space left so I put my name in and went to wait. I watched a couple of other girls do their thing before they all stood and said it was over. I was freaking out because no one had judged me. I ran around trying to find the judges and ask them what I was supposed to do but I couldn't find an opportunity to talk to them. I ran into this guy from work and somehow knew he had been in the competition but eliminated earlier. He was with that blonde guy from Fight Club and that guy's girlfriend, who I didn't recognize. We started to smack talk a bunch of the other girls. Apparently one of the previous challenges had been piling skids at the pet food factory. The people I was speaking to seemed to be laughing about how pathetic they were. I had a sort of cinematic flashback to when I was in the challenge. I was piling skids with this guy named Dwight that worked with me at Timt Horton's. I said that I did so well because I was working with him and everyone else said that yeah, he was the man.

And then it just kind of ended.

Anyway, I had a pretty crazy weekend. I went to hang out with friends in Stratford. We watched Mulan and The Emperor's New Groove (love!) and Star Wars III. I went to mass for the first time.

It was a Latin High mass, and everything was sung. If I hadn't been so paranoid about appearing lost (I had to follow the people beside me very carefully) I would really have enjoyed it. If I had been invisible and just been there watching it would have been lovely. I liked to look at all the art and pictures and statues (the church had been built in the 1800s). I liked to watch the priest doing all of his procedures up at the front. I liked the soung of the bells a lot. I liked the echoey quality to the singing of the preist and the guy in the back whose title I can't recall. I liked the Latin itself. The feeling of holiness and concern for holiness was new and interesting. In short, because the ritualism is new to me and I've never heard all those words and prayers before, they intrigued me. I was also exceedingly happy when I could sing along with the Kyrie e leison part! I kind of understand what G.K.Chesterton wrote about liking the Catholic Church at first because he liked the "pretty patterns". I also know that I will never believe all that it believes. I wouldn't make a good Catholic.

I think that's enough for now. Back to the regularity of night shifts!

Friday, July 10, 2009

Dream movie #2

Let's get right down to business!

It starts with a painting. It's a beautiful painting, and if it exists I want it. It shows a straight line of horses, face on. They are all in full flying gallop. They are a range of colours, but mostly blacks and browns. I figure they're thoroughbreds because of what happens later. The background was a confusion of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows: a recollection of flames. The story was mostly seen in paintings actually.
A group of young children were at an old-time sunday school picnic. Think of the ones in Tom Sawyer and it was that exactly. They had been playing tag, and stopped to rest. A wealthy middle aged gentleman waddled over. He was very fat, and had a grey suit that looked very posh on him. Golden rings on his fingers and golden hair on his head, he made a considerable impression on the pile of panting kids. He spoke to them with a solid southern accent and a funny trick of speech that made all of his s's sound like sh's. Despite of the lisp, every child listened with wide, bright eyes; no one laughed.

"Now, chil'ren. I 'shpect you wouldn't mind hearin' a shtory. I have a shplendid shtory about a shplendid horshe. The ger-ate-esht hoshe, it may be, of all time. In all of hisht'ry there have been, I admit, a cullec'shun of nutmegsh and shinnamonsh (here he indicates the painting) and each, I shuppose, has made hish or her mark. The greatesht horshe you will ever have heard of ish thish great black one, here, on the end."

The horse at the end of the painting was stunning. A wide, solid chest above wide, solid feet. It's neck was arched and spotted with white sweat. His eyes were gaping open with what in a lesser horse would be fear, but was merely his excitement of the race. There was in them a gleam of lucid thought. He knew how to race and he loved to race, because that is what his father and mother and all of his ancestors had birthed him to do.
The painting's background behind him also left its confused, firey theme and was a sort of muted white and green.

The scene then changed. The voice of the lisping narrator flowed on, while paintings stylistic of colonial America showed scenes of a young boy and his mother and father. The mother carried a parasol daintily in the sun, as was proper. The father held a paper under his arm and had an aging, respectable grey silk top hat. They were strolling placidly, and the boy peeked over a fence into some green pasture with a look of freshness and excitement. He has on a grey felt cap, jacket, and breeches.

The man continued, "But he, dear chil'ren, wash not the fashtesht. The fashtesht wash owned not by shome old rich man, who cared about 'horshflesh' and timesh because they meant dollersh and shents, but by a young boy in Dover. Hish family weren't rich, but the boy loved horshesh, sho hish father and mother shaved (lolz!) every extra penny to shupprt hish horshe. The boy figgered the horshe wash calm enough. It came when he called it and walked pleashantly along the shtreetsh of town and wash never known onesh to be nashty.
The boy never knew thish horshe wash anything 'xcep'shunal. He only knew that when there wash an open field or farm or laneway, horshe would tug on the bit, and the boysh handsh would looshen and he would lean for'ad in the shaddle, and then horshe would fly. Both the boy and the horshe lived for theshe timesh."

And that is all I dreamed. The art was particularly beautiful. I would have bought any of it. The narrarator's speech is almost verbatim. If it's hard to understand the way I typed it, I'm sorry. I wanted to give the idea it gave me when he "shpoke". It's almost the perfect beginning to a movie. I have a faint idea of what would happen later. The boy would be seen tearing across some meadow by a man who knows enough about horses to realize this one is exceptional. After several offers to buy it are turned down, he lets the boy run the horse in a race himself. They are a sensation and rocket immediately to the top of the racing world. But the boy and the horse are unhappy. A few years pass and the horse is more dejected every race. The boy doesn't seem to notice anymore, because money can corrupt and blind anyone. Then horse gets sick. NO cause can be found. The horse dies, and the boy, now without his famed mount, returns to his life before all this started. He realizes he killed his dearest friend and runs away. I think he becomes the narrator.
Anyway, that is all.

I should start making these into movies

My dreams, that is.
When I have them, which is not frequent, they are extremely vivid. This one I actually totally believed, which weirded me out.

So, my dream:

I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning. My blanket was too hot, but I can never sleep without it. Eventually I just got up. Someone texted me and asked to hang out, but I had to say no because I had to go get something somewhere. I was driving back from the place on a road that was like the one to Grand Bend, but I had the sensation I always have when driving home from Wellesley. I always feel like I'm going to be lost because I'm certain I'll miss a turn in the dark. There was a sense of a storm in the air. Maybe it was windy, but it was still warm. I was speeding by a considerable margin. Suddenly I saw a road and thought it was the turn I wanted. I tried to make the turn but I was going far to fast and as I whipped the car around it skidded into a tree/oncoming vehicle. I saw all this from an exterior perspective. I saw myself outside of the car and I was freaking out. I knew Ben was going to KILL me. The car looked like a crumpled up piece of paper. I asked the guy who had helped me out of my car (although I don't remember that part specifically) if he thought I could drive it home. He said something about the chassy and that no, I couldn't. I had known it was wishful thinking anyway. I called my dad eventually. He said that I would have to pay for all of it and he asked me if I had been speeding. I said no. I got home somehow and went pack to bed. I didn't want to wake up because if i did I would have to worry about all this. How was I going to pay that kind of money? Ben was still going to kill me... At least I have a job... Do I need to go to work at some point? Maybe they'll let you call in sick because of the accident. What day is it? ... Thursday. What time? I don't know. What time did you get home from that incident? Wait, Thursday? I was going to hang out with Vanessa on Thursday. I did hang out with Vee, and Deanna for that matter. Then I came home and.... fell asleep. That was a dream, wasn't it...
Thank goodness.

I wonder what I did to my subconcious to make it do that to me. It was very unpleasant.

It may have scared me enough to make me not speed as much. One has no idea how scary car crashes are until one is in a screeching, creaking, crumpling car.

Oh well. I really don't appreciate dreaming, to tell the truth. I feel like if my body has to shut up for a few hours, the least my mind can do is piss off as well. Also, I think they are indicators of subconcious perceptions, motives, or ideas. I am a firm believer in ignoring my subconcious.

Then again, anyone wishing to analyze this dream may go right ahead.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009


It's amazing how just talking to someone can make time pass quickly and pleasantly even in unpleasant situations.

Last night at work my foreperson but me on sorting duty, which means we had to go through the pet food and pick out all the pieces that weren't supposed to be there. It's a horrible job because you end up just standing around for 8 hours. You feet get tired and it's hard to stay awake.
Anyway, so I was working with the smiley guy. About an hour in he asks about how I hurt my hand (I need to wear a wrist brace at work) and we got to talking.
For a while we talked about animals and stuff, and then we talked about politics, and a bunch of other stuff in between.

When your mind is caught up in conversation, you don't remember that your feet are sore or that you're crazy sleepy. I realized last night that while I enjoy listening to people talk, I don't as much like to contribute. I would be happy to have conversations where all that is expected of me is strict attention, and no contribution (not always, of course, but some). Even if what they're saying isn't altogether engaging, I like to pay attention to how they form phrases or communicate their ideas. I love to watch facial expressions and mannerisms and try to figure out what the person is trying to get across with those particular gestures. I like to guess at what is behind a person's intonation.

It also helps when the guy talking to you is so... smiley! ;) Seriously, he's got these lovely sparkly eyes and just smiles a lot which makes his eyes sparklier. Makes me happy. Oh, and I'm not creepy for noticing his eyes. Everyone pays attention to this sort of thing, but apparently if we mention that a person has a really pleasant trait we suddenly "like" them. I am not a ditzy 15 year old going on about "crushes". I just find that his smileyness is catching and it's hard not to smile when someone smiles at you.

It also is very likely that the extremely sore throat I have is from shouted conversation all night. It's hard to get past the earplugs and factory noise. Either that or a specific philandering whore I know gave me mono (from a shared drink! no make outs! I swear!)