Despite everything, this made me smile...

UPDATE: I am no longer an unemployed bum! Yay for the call centre.

Dreaming.

My body seems foreign to me. My mind seems almost a separate entity. I watch my fingers typing and for a split second, my bony wrists look like someone else's. Did my arms always look like this?

I lie in bed, reading a novel when I should be reading a textbook. I read to get away from my own relentless thinking. My mind is driving me insane. Even as I close my eyes to dream, all I see is a never-ending collage of memories, mixed in with the sort of nonesense that only the dream world is capable of.

I see a girl, walking through a large marble mansion. Everywhere she turns she sees large empty rooms, rooms that were once filled with people... rooms that she had spent countless nights in as a child. I hear the faint laughter of children. I see them in the background, ghosts of the past, jumping up and down on mattresses, laughing for no reason; laughing for the sake of laughter.

Then the girl runs out of the mansion. She seems overwhelmed. She runs through the empty courtyard, passes the dead circular garden. Now she's standing atop a green field. The scene reminds her of her childhood. It reminds her of a time when she carelessly laid herself down and rolled down those hills... leaving herself at the mercy of gravity. She remembers rolling down those grassy hills, the same hills that stained her clothes green, she remembers the parents that scolded for her it, she remembers.....

And then suddenly, she bursts into tears. I watch her from atop. I watch her like someone watches a movie. I watch her and somehow feel all her grief, feel all her nostalgia, feel all her pain.

That is what I want to escape. That constantly running mind. The constantly running subconscious machine. I just want things to be calm, silent. I just want it to stop.

Bright flowers on a cold winter's day.

I have been quite a hermit for the past few weeks. In fact, the last time I set foot outside of the house was last Friday. I dare say the bright flowers mom bought today are the only physical contact I've had with the outside world for the past week. I guess you could say I've been productive though. I mean I wrote two ten page papers and took twelve pages worth of notes for my Sunday final. I think I could say that this is the most focused I have ever have been in my life (academically).

It's a weird feeling though, not interacting with people, sitting at this desk, actually getting work done... successfully avoiding procrastination for once. I think it'll take getting used to.

I don't finish until the 23rd, but at least after Sunday's exam I have a day or two to see my friends and enjoy real life before it's back to books again. I really hope this isn't how the rest of life plays out. I want to go out, see people, meet people, witness life. There's only so much observing and analyzing through books my mind can endure.

Happy birthday Ally.

This year you're finally free to celebrate.
No more hospitals and I.Vs.

I miss you.

Uncoordinated Limbs

Is it just me or do you find that when you most need to be stealthy and quiet in the house, you are your loudest?

Take late nights.... or 5 in the morning. Everyone in the house is asleep but for one reason or another I have to be awake at an ungodly hour. Sitting in my room, suddenly I feel the urge to get some water... or maybe I remember that I should go take my multi-vitamins... and so I tip-toe downstairs, working extra hard not to make any noise.

Finally, after getting myself down the steps and onto the first floor, I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Yes! I did it. I'm as stealthy as a cat."

Then as I walk up to the cabinet to get my bottle of pills, I hit my leg against a pot... or as I reach over to get a glass, it falls over and crashes down loudly against all the other ones.

"Fuck!!!" I mutter. By now any sense of stealthiness has long left my uncoordinated, uncontrollable limbs.

I reach over and get my bottle of pills. I open the child lock on it only for my hand to slip and for the lid to plump down loudly on the ceramic tiles, vibrating and turning with noise on the ground while I cringe and swear, waiting for it to stop.

By now I'm just pissed off. I take my pill, rinse my glass of water and make my way up the stairs, angry and annoyed at my own inability to run this late night errand without waking up the whole house.

Thankful.

I think we're a little too young to be worried about never finding someone.
Yes. I'm sure that is a fact.

Yet, lately I find myself upset over the fact that I can't find new, interesting people (guys) to talk to and to feel silly around.

I know, I know, this is me being my ridiculous self again. I don't want attention when I have it and when I do I shun it. How does that make sense?

It seems I guess that I only attract the kind of attention I want to shun. There have been people that were considered... but they're always a little insane and too busy dwelling in their own minds.

Then maybe it's time for me to start looking out for people who don't dwell in their own heads. I mean sure it's nice. Sure I love the conversations they can hit up... sure they're a lot less pretentious and a lot more intelligent.... but they don't seem thoughtful.

It's ironic really. They're always trapped with their own thoughts... yet they can't divert enough from them to be thoughtful towards someone else.

I have no idea what I'm writing all this for because even as I'm writing it makes no sense to me. I'm not looking for anyone. I'm just frustrated by the lack of people. Does that make sense?

**

Anyways, inspired by the 1000awesomethings blog, I'm going to start writing one thing that I'm thankful for at the end of every post. I don't think I'm thankful enough for the people and things around me.

Today I'm thankful for: the treadmill and elevating heart rates. :)

Assumptions.

Sitting at the table, with three guys I've known for years but barely know, I lose patience. They make me so utterly aware of the gap between men and women. How do we live together, how are we expected to last, when neither side understands the other?

I used to be a tomboy. I had no problems admitting it. I used to play soccer in the streets, the only girl on the team. I used to have best friends who were boys. I found them safer and more understanding. They were my refuge from the needless drama and cruelty girls inflict on one another.

But now, now it's like all of that has done a 360. Maybe it's our age. Maybe at 20, the differences between both sides are the most obvious. I don't know, maybe it's just me. Maybe I've changed too much.

Sitting with the three guys I barely know, they go on and on about sex. They talk about what pleases girls. They even say that sex is better for women. Sex is better because apparantly we're capable of having a million orgasms in a row.

I sit there awkwardly, but get frustrated by their ignorance. I try to tell them they can't make such assumptions. I try to tell them generalizations are stupid. Instead, I get bombarded with more assumptions.

"You're not experienced enough, you'll know one day."

I'm sorry, what? I wasn't aware I'd told you my sexual history. I wasn't aware you could tell tell by a glance what I've experienced in life.

This made me even more angry. Getting into a useless argument with them, I get more and more frustrated... until finally, tired of their fucked up assumptions, I say, "I have had sex before!"

This shuts them up. They look at eachother. The same guys who only minutes ago were talking openly about fucking women. Of course it's fine for them to talk about it, but the moment I, a woman, admit to having had sex, there's sudden silence. Then they start talking again.

Why are you all so shocked? Why is it so hard to believe?

"You just don't look like the type."

The type? What exactly is this "type?" Do people who have sex look a certain way? Do women who have sex have SLUT stamped across their forehead?

They try to correct themselves. They say that's not what they meant.

"You just seem like you're focused on school."

OF COURSE. God forbid I have sex. It must mean I'm not focused on school.

I left that conversation feeling angry and even disgusting. Their ignorance, their reactions, their condescending manner, and their complete utter sexism, had left me completely disoriented. I realized I can't stand these people. I can't stand this building, I can't stand the fake stupid facades everyone puts on.

I've never been much of a feminist, but this is not the first time something like this has happend. It seems the older I get, the more I realize just what we, as women, have to deal with for the rest of our lives. It upsets me, and yes, it even scares me. The only thing I can do is try to avoid people like them and to hope that somehow, someday men will grow up.

Awesome flu.

So I'd been exhausted and really just out of it for the past week. I attributed it to stupid midterms and assignments and not having had a weekend. Yesterday I came home and started feeling a lot crappier. By morning, I was coughing insanely. By afternoon I had a fever of 37.5 (my normal body temp is 36.8) and by evening i had a fever of 39 C. I don't know if I have regular flu or swine flu. The symptoms seem to be exactly the same and I seem to have all of them at once. D:

With the help of some Tylenols and Advil's and some cold water I'm down to 38.1 which is honestly such a huge difference. I can actually function a little.

I have a presentation tomorrow at 8:30 AM but called my professor and told him I was sick. He moved it to next week thankfully. I have to figure out how I'm gonna cover chapter after chapter of mgmt 2000 if my entire weekend is gonna be spent trying to get this fever down.

At least Schulich seems to be slightly accommodating with the situation.

I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to your emails Rebecca! I read them and loved them to bits. I just can't sit down in front of the computer for too long at a time right now.

Wish me luck!

Halloween.

It was around last year this time that I visited you for the last time.

You had decorated the door for Halloween. You said you didn't want to do it but that last minute you thought, hey, why not, you don't get to decorate for Halloween every day.

All your school books were piled up on your table. I even saw one of those practice books you probably bought to help you with first year calculus. You were busy sending emails back and forth with administration at university. You said the lady was really nice and helpful.

Beans played around with his toys trying to get your attention. I gave you the book I thought would help you pass some time.

Your dad came in with some sort of tea. It was as black as molasses. He asked me to make sure you drank it. You really didn't seem to want to.

When it was time for me to go, we hugged. We held on for longer than usual. Something felt different. Maybe it was that we both knew it would be the last time, maybe it was something else.

Your hair smelled like shampoo.

Shiny.

I love the few good friends I have. You know who you are.

I want to be.

I will focus on school and on healing.

My face is still swollen and my gums still throb and bleed, but I'm sure with time it'll get better.

I feel this sudden urge to focus and be one with all the work I have to do. I have 5 lectures to cover for my midterm this coming Friday, and even if I were to cover just one lecture a day (which is usually about three articles to read and take notes on), I could finish everything on Wednesday and then have Thursday to read lecture notes and review.

I'm so glad my film lecture on Thursday night is cancelled. It's really good luck. Or maybe even Karma.

I'm also really lucky with midterms this year. Instead of having five midterms back to back like I usually have had, I have them all spread out throughout the next four weeks.

I'm cutting Facebook out of my life again. I need a people detox, if that even makes sense. I don't think its healthy the way we let ourselves be bombarded by so much useless information. The way we read over the details of people's lives when we could be reading over some amazing book. I know it all sounds a little silly/corny/nerdy but that's what I've been thinking and feeling as of late.

Speaking of amazing books, I've been reading Wuthering Heights. I like it so far but I have a terrible feeling it'll end badly as most Gothic era novels do.

I'm excited to do well on all my courses. I'm excited to let go of all the outside relationships that have done me no good and just focus on healing and nurturing. I want to focus on making myself a better person... I want to be more intelligent, trustworthy, caring. I want to be able to look back, ten years down the road, and be able to say: "Yeah, that was the day I decided to take that step towards doing something great."

I wanna be so amazing that the people who decided they didn't wanna stick around beat themselves up over it ;)

Hell yeah, I'm going to be AWESOME.
& LEGENDARY too.

T3.

Sometimes it feels like I'm going to end up alone.

I look at all these couples, and how uninhibited they are by their insecurities... how in love they are with each other. I look at them and I see all the reasons why my last relationship failed. All the ways I could have perhaps saved it. Maybe if I wasn't so moody, maybe if I didn't find it so hard to be touched... if I could have acted a little more normal.

Maybe it's the pain or the painkillers talking, but I can't imagine finding someone who will love me despite all my insanity.

Baby, did you forget to take your meds?

Last night, on the second night of my post-wisdom teeth removal recovery, my face decided to swell up like a balloon... and my left cheek decided to bruise... and the real pain finally decided it wants to unleash its wrath on me.

I'm stupid and stubborn, and I didn't pick up my Tylenol 3 prescriptions from the pharmacist. The first night wasn't bad at all, and I figured I could get by with extra strength advil and such... but holy shit was I wrong. Last night, after taking an advil extra strength and a Tylenol cold I woke up at 4 in the morning, in ridiculous pain. I walked around the house shivering either because I was cold or because I was in so much pain. I couldn't tell which it was. I looked around trying to figure out when the pharmacy would open. That's how desperate I was to get my meds. I saw I had four more hours to endure.

I put an ice pack on my face and took another advil. When the pain finally calmed down somewhat I fell asleep.

This morning I walked over and picked up my Tylenol 3s and with the advice of the concerned looking pharmacist took two. Now, half an hour later, I feel amazing. I feel so so good.

Now I'm a happy looking chipmunk.

Birth Signs.

I was born two months early.

I was born in April instead of June. I'm an aries instead of perhaps... a gemini. I can recognize when someone is an Aries really quite easily.

Sometimes I wonder if I would have been a different person if I'd been born on time.

Wish me luck.

I'm not exactly looking forward to tomorrow. I have an oral surgery to remove four wisdom teeth scheduled :(

Although I dread this to the max, I'm really thankful that I'll be asleep throughout the whole process. In fact it might actually be an interesting to experience being gassed unconsious..........

It won't be pleasent, but at least I will have Tylenol 3's and Amoxicillin to help me get by.

Indepdent.

I wish I were more independent.
I feel so confined by my current situation.

I want so badly to be liberated, to finally move onto that next phase. I wish I was less prone to my mood swings. The other day I got so angry, over something so small, that my vision got blurry and my blood pressure went lower than I've ever seen it go.

I need to stop missing someone who I expect so much from even after our relationship has been reduced to a passing friendship. I wish I lived near the centre of the city, so I could stop rejecting job offers and actually have a real job for once.

I feel so dependent. I rely too much on the friends I think I made in the past two years. I let their actions effect me too much. I let the disappointments fester for too long.

At this point, I don't like who I am and who I've become.

I want to be strong, optimistic, self-reliant.

Learning.

Photo credits go to Banafsheh :)

I love political ecology. It is so interesting and it just makes so much sense in my head. It's like the perfect cocktail of Economics, Environmental Studies, Politics and Sociology. Not to mention it actually takes the West away from the notion that we are somehow technologically, morally, and intellectually superior to the rest of the world.

What more could a girl ask for?

Too much breathing.

I've always had a problem with managing stress. Even in high school, when the work load wasn't so intense, I would have bouts of hyperventilation. Of course back then I didn't know I was hyperventilating. I would just suffer from a constant feeling of breathlessness, and ridiculous tight pain in my chest. I remember going to the doctor, who told me I was just stressed. She didn't offer any solutions to my problem.


Now, with the beginning of another school year, my anxiety problems seem to be worsening. No matter how in control I feel, or how relaxed I may think I am, I find myself struggling to breathe. Frankly it's frustrating, and trying to stop the cycle of overbreathing is painful and almost scary. When I overbreathe I ironically feel like I'm not breathing enough, so I breathe even more, which makes things worse. They say to stop this cycle, I have to breathe less and exhale more. Now, you can imagine how hard this is when you already feel as though you're suffocating.


I don't know what good they will do for me, but I think I will go see an advisor about it now. I've been trying to go to the gym. Today I worked out for two hours, and still I'm here, breathing painfully.

I need to learn to deal.

I just finished watching parts 1 and 2 of the mini-series, "The House of Saddam." My heart breaks for the people of Iraq, who've had nothing but pain and bad luck strewn upon them throughout the decades, by greedy, delusional leaders who care only for their own "pride."

Pretty Leaves.

I love fall.

It has got to be the saddest but most elegant season of all.

I'm starting to like lonely lunch ventures.
They give me pretty pictures and better marks.

Note to self: Never again buy Sushi from TEL.
They used to make the sushi at the store,
But now they have prepackaged sushi,
And I thought I was eating crab,
But when I looked at the ingredients,
It was imitation crab meat with artificial crab flavouring
What the fuck?

Lines to live by:

Expect nothing from others and you'll never be disappointed.

Women Without Men.

I wish I had gone to see this movie at the festival. I guess I'll have to wait for the DVD now. Can't wait.

The Things the Mind Forgets.

I've realized that my blog entries are nothing like my diary entries of the past.

Today, I was helping clean our ridiculous basement of 10 years worth of crap, when I came across two of my old diaries. One from before I moved to Canada, in grade 4 and 5, and the other from grade 5 onward. I used to be a really loyal diary writer. I mean... at times I wrote almost everyday. My blogs though... just don't feel the same. My entries are usually very half-assed or don't have anything to do with my daily routines.

I always thought it'd be boring to write about the mundane activities of my days in this blog, but now, after reading over my childhood diaries, I see the value in that. There are so many important little things that our mind forgets. It scares me. I want to remember the details of my life.

I want to remember that I had a friend named Sayeh in Iran who wrote me poetry and told me she'd miss me when I left. I wanna remember the way I wrote to my diary as if it were a living, breathing person. I want to remember who I was, and I want to leave something behind for the future me to stumble upon one day, amidst all the dust bunnies and spiderwebs.

Exhausted.

I'm not ready for another year of insanity.

Today.

Love is beautiful.

Don't look back.

When we finally decide it's over, we sit in the car as it runs idle. Eventually, you turn off the car, and we sit there, both silent. "I guess this is for the best," you say. "Yeah, sure."

You ask if you can have a kiss, and I kiss you. You always liked the longer kisses. But when I try to kiss you again, you look away.

"Ok. That's all I guess," I say. I sound like I've lost my voice.

I get out of the car, closing the door, and walk away. I look back a few times to see if your car follows me for you to wave goodbye, the same way you have all summer when you drop me off.

I look back, and each time, you're parked there in the same spot, not moving.

I don't know anymore.

Dad woke me up this morning to tell me they're off to the hospital. The spot where he had surgery on his head last month was bleeding so they went to see the neurosurgeon. Mom just called saying he is scheduled to have his fourth surgery, and second brain surgery in two weeks.

11:11

I'm sitting here in my room. There isn't sound except for the sound of conversation from downstairs. I haven't updated in quite a while, so I thought I would sit down, and despite the mess that my brain has been in the past little while, try to come up with some things to say.

I wish I could update on a happier note, but the fact that I messed up my final exam, my tumultuous and uncertain relationships with the people in my life, and some recent bad news from someone who I'd hoped was getting better aren't letting me out of this slum. I know I should be one of those super positive people who keep their head up no matter what happens, but at least I've improved a lot over the past years. I mean, I used to let depression consume me to the core. Now it's just something that pokes its horned little head out every once in a while.

I wish there was something I could do for all the people that I see hurting around me. I wish cancer would die off forever and stop taking so many people away from the ones they love...

One More Day.

I'd rather...

I just ate a random amount of junk. I didn't go to the gym today.

I was reading an article in a magazine about the psychological torture we put ourselves through when we don't go to the gym. The way our mind convinces us we're getting fat when nine times out of ten the body is in the same exact state it was pre gym hiatus. Regardless, I think I'll have to give up going to the gym for at least the next four days. I have my final Managerial Accounting exam on monday, and I need to pass this course. Because of that, I probably won't be around too much for the next few days. At least that's assuming I'm focusing on the things I should be focusing on.

I never was too good at prioritizing.

I'd rather be here:

8 1/2 by 11

After we broke up I took a shower and let myself let everything go while I was in there. But now, 24 hours later, I feel absolutely blank.

(And if you close your eyes we will always be, the way we were that night you crawled inside of me)

Who knows...

Ok. So which is it?

Is it over the top cynicism or realism that has got me seeing people in a whole different light as of late?

I feel like I can see right through people's facades. I feel like so many of the people around me have their own private agendas... living life and scheming to get things the way they want them to be.

Why is it that as soon as my Facebook status suggests boy troubles, some guy I haven't spoken to in months messages to ask me how I'm doing? In the past I would have seen that as a nice gesture maybe. Now I see it for what it really is. Now I see him for the opportunist pig that he is. I'm sorry if you have daddy issues. If you sleep with every woman you meet and ask my best friend out on a date based on a photo you saw of her on my wall.. but that doesn't give you the right to be a mysognist douche-bag.

Anyways. I don't know. I'm just very angry lately.

I should channel this anger into the articles I have lined up to write for the newspaper... those same articles with the interviews that I was so excited about only a few weeks ago.

It's weird but I really miss an old friend. We grew apart 6 months or so ago over something stupid. We were never too close, but I miss him and I don't know why.

I wish the boyfriend would call... or just spend some time with me.

I'm seeing A's parents tomorrow over dinner with some friends. I hope they're doing well. I miss A.

I don't know why I'm rambling or complaining so much. Life is really not that bad. I just need to put the right lenses on to view things with...

Moody's Diner

My mood has really taken a turn for the worse since the last time I updated. I have no idea what has gotten into me. I wish I could understand my own mind.

The past week for the most part has been spent in my room. I have done almost nothing other than for binging on a newly found guilty pleasure (Gossip Girl). The past week I've stayed up till as late as 3 a.m, woken up at 10 a.m, eaten lunch at 4 p.m, and had dinner at 1 a.m. I think it's starting to show because my skin is acting weird.

Today I finally left the house to go to the gym with a friend. On our way back to catch the bus home I fell a little behind and was consequently left behind by not only the bus but also by my friend who went home on the bus I couldn't catch.

He finally came back from New York. I missed him so much the whole time he was gone, but now that he's back I pick fights with him. I'm angry at him for not texting, which seems silly even to me, and I feel like that amazing feeling I had before about everything was a slip; a temporary rosecoloured glass outlook on life.

I don't know what has led to my hermit lifestyle or my sudden exhaustion. I think I'm trapped in my own mind.

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream. ~Sylvia Plath

A Romantic Resurrected.

"I'm scared to open up... I'm afraid to feel vulnerable."

It's one of those things people say when they think they're about to fall in love... or when they try to explain to people why they avoid love.

Well, I can't say I'm as self-aware as those people. In fact, when my heart was full out broken 3 years ago, it was a first, and so I had no fear before the fall. I was eager as ever to open up to someone... anyone... and well, after that was over I had my period of hermit depression when I convinced myself that the romantic in me was dead and buried. After all that, I by some weird twist ended up dating that same person who broke my heart.

This time of course I was different. Sure you could say I was "scared to open up..." but I don't think I was aware of the change. I mean a year into the relationship I was pretty sure this was as vulnerable as I could possibly become.

I don't know, maybe the past made me forget what it was like to be truly open... made me forget the rush, the nervousness. I mean... I didn't even come to the realization that there was still a part of me that hadn't opened up until last week when I spent the day with him, and felt finally for the first time in 3 years how it felt to be truly open and vulnerable with someone.

So yeah, I guess I am a little scared. Scared of what the future has in store for us, scared of what might happen... but still, there's this relief that comes with really loving someone. A relief maybe that I'm not broken after-all.

Weird that it took me throwing up chunky food inside his bathroom sink to finally let go.

"Give me a kiss."

"Ew, no I'm all gross and vomitty."

"I don't care. I still love you."

Thin Crust.

So um today I tried a three topping pizza. It had halal beef pepperoni (what?!), onions, and mushrooms on a thin crust. I was very excited for this pizza. My lover and I then proceeded to eat this delicious pizza, only to have me come home and throw it all up after an attempt at fun times in bed.

Sigh. I'm sorry delicious pizza. Blame it on the antiobiotics.

This unexpected feeling of anguish and insanity is pushing me to the edge. I can't imagine waking up in the morning to greet the day. In fact, I can't imagine falling asleep tonight. I'm so tired of my continuous nightmares. I know they're my own fault... My own neglect of the problems in my life that are somehow morphing into these night terrors...

Verbal Regurgitation.

Hello Mister customer service representative guy working for the fast food restaurant I ate at tonight. Hi Mister.

I have no idea why I'm calling you to complain about these uncooked fries. I don't like fries at this place anyway. Still it bothered me that your fries were uncooked. Could you please ask the people at the location beside the Canadian Tire to please cook their fries? No. Not the location beside the Home Depot. No not that location. No not the location on brimely Avenue. No. Not that location. Could you please just tell them to give me a receipt next time? No I have no further concerns. Sure I'll give you my e-mail address. Sure I'll give you my street name. No it's not a crescent, it's a boulevard. No it's not an avenue, it's a boulevard. Good night mister customer service representative guy. I wonder if I'll ever hear your voice again. I wonder what city you're in... in the same way I wonder why everything seems to make so much sense one moment and so little the next. What did he sing that one time? Oh yeah, "how time can move both fast and slow, amazes me."

Just like I'll wonder about the teenage roommate at the hospital. The one with a million stab wounds, a punctured heart. How romantic it is for us to say our hearts are broken, until they actually are. Until we have to be cut open from the neck down for open heart surgery. Until our lungs collapse because of some stupid fight at 16.

Just like I'll wonder about A's parents. How is it that they are so strong? Seeing their daughter go through chemo for years only to lose her. How do you deal with a loss so great?

How is it that people can be so resilient, so brave, when they're pushed to the limit, but remain so weak, sad, uninspired, when faced with no dilemmas?

"[Is] heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid? The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become." -- The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Milan Kundera)

I would like to share my excitement with you, the few lovely readers that I have, regarding my electives next year. Next year for the first time in 2 years I get some flexibility in my course selection and I've of course used that opportunity to take as many random, awesome courses as possible. Here are two of the courses I'm taking and their selected readings. I saw the book King and King on the list and thought it sounded very familiar. Then I remembered it being used in a prop 8 advertisement to scare conservatives.

Horror and Terror: Variations on Gothic
Reading List:

Bram Stoker, Dracula (Penguin);

Sigmund Freud, Civilization and Its Discontents (trans. Strachey, intro by Peter Gay); Charlotte F. Otten (Ed),

The Literary Werewolf (Syracuse University Press);

Anne Rice, Interview with the Vampire (Ballantine Books).

20th-century Children's Literature

Reading List:

(Revised July 2, 2009)

Barrie, J. M. Peter Pan (Bantam) (ISBN: 0553211781)
Bellairs, John. The House with a Clock in Its Walls (Puffin) (ISBN: 0142402575)
Blume, Judy. Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret. (Yearling) (ISBN: 0440404193)
Dahl, Roald. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. (Puffin) (ISBN: 9780142410318)
Dehaan, Linda, Stern Nijland, King and King (Tricycle) (ISBN: 1582460612)
Katz, Welwyn Wilton. False Face (Groundwood) (ISBN: 0888990820)
Lewis, C. S. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (HarperTrophy) (ISBN: 0064404994)
Pullman, Philip. The Golden Compass (Yearling) (ISBN: 9780440418320)
Richardson, Justin, and Peter Parnell, And Tango Makes Three (Simon & Schuster) (ISBN: 0689878451)
Rowling, J. K. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Raincoast) (ISBN: 1551924781)
Snicket, Lemony. A Series of Unfortunate Events: Book the First. The Bad Beginning (HarperCollins) (ISBN: 0064407667)
White, E. B. Charlotte’s Web (HarperTrophy) (ISBN: 0064400557)

All I have to say is, I CAN'T WAIT to enjoy learning again. : )

Bittersweet

So I had my hearing.

It was very intense and they made me wait an hour and a half before they told me their decision. The good news is, I'm back in the program. The bad news is... well I'm back in the program and I have a managerial exam tomorrow.

kfaosfjaosfp

Ahhhh one night to write two essays. One on Irish monasticism and the other on the role of women in medieval Ireland. AHHHH.

Hearing.

My hearing is on Monday. Now you may ask, what the fuck is a hearing? What did you do Amelie? Are you going to jail? Well... no, not quite.

You see, I attend a school that regards itself as highly prestigious. Most of its activities occur in a small, gray building, deceptively surrounded by plant-life. Inside, you can find concrete gray walls in the style of brutalist architecture, large glass windows, plenty of sound-proof study rooms, lecture halls, and of course random art work. The random artwork confuses most people, even its students. It took us two years to realize that the huge ass billboard beside student services that read "DAVE & SONS LAUNDRY, CLOSING BUSINESS, 'DAD WE MISS YOU SO MUCH'" was not about anyone's dad dying but just part of the school's decor.

Anyways, as I was saying, this school is one that regards itself in a very high light. It puts a lot of emphasis on its global ranking. In fact, I've come to the conclusion that the people running the school care more about their global ranking than their students. The school is brutal to its students. The workload is insane, there is no room for slack or flexibility in course selection and a fail grade in any course leads to a process of appealing, which involves something known as a hearing.

The hearing involves you, the student, writing a letter explaining yourself, explaining why you failed a certain course, explaining any extenuating circumstances, and then going in front of a panel of 8 "judges" to explain yourself. After explaining yourself, you're grilled for some time. "Why do you want to be in this school?" "What will a BBA do for you?" "Why should we let you stay?" etc.

Then you're sent out of the room, and after some time and deliberation by the judges are told whether or not you are allowed to stay in the program.

I wasn't worried about this. I believed my appeal was strong, but in the past two days, 6 people I know got kicked out of the program, so now really I don't know what's going to happen.

So yes, that is what I have to look forward to this coming Monday. I can't wait!

Dinner time.

I made dinner tonight. I don't know many complicated dishes, but I made this relatively simple Iranian rice dish. It's rice, tomato paste, spices, string beans, and ground beef cooked/fried together and then added to rice to further simmer in a rice-cooker. If anyone wants to know how to actually make it, let me know.


For desert I made this yogurt dish. It's pretty much plain yogurt with grated cucumbers, dried mint, and some salt for taste.


Also, I found something funny while eating dinner. There was a menu for a take-out place on the table, and an item on the list stood out for me. I don't know... maybe I just have a dirty mind.

I'll finish off with a pretty picture of the backyard. It's green and pretty this time of year. Now I'm going to attempt some managerial accounting for a little while... er.. hopefully (That is if certain people don't distract me too much).

Convincing.

I love you dad.
Everything will be fine...

Chipped paint.

Here we are, it's July and I'm still in school. I only have 2 classes but I feel like I'm going insane. With a paper for tuesday, and an exam in 2 weeks for managerial I don't know how I'm going to do this. Friday and Saturday will be spent at the hospital, which really leaves me a lot less time for everthing that needs to get done. I can't focus. This week was probably the worst for me attention span wise. I sat in class for 3 hours and heard nothing, understood nothing. I sat through the lab and didn't absorb anything.

The appeal process for school is taking so long. Every time I think I'm finished appealing, they tell me I need to do something new. Now they want proof of my dad's brain surgery, and I don't know how to get that without asking them. They have enough on their plates as it is and I don't want to bring up school right before a surgery.

Getting out of the car today I opened the door without thinking and slammed it into our other car parked in the garage. I chipped some of the paint off and came home to glares. Mom's face forms into a permanent frown when she looks at me.

He tries to be understanding, but I don't think he understands how this feels. I feel like a burden on everything and everybody and I don't want to be comforted either.

I leave the house in the morning and come back at 11 p.m to everyone either asleep or away in their private worlds. I haven't really seen dad in days and on friday he goes to the hospital. I havent' even gotten to have dinner with him before we all scatter around hospital rooms. He got so angry at the chipped paint, but all I could think about was how insignificant it was compared to everything we've been through in the past year. All I could think about was how insignificant it was to the pain and hardships of surgery, chemotherapy, death.

...

I had very weird dreams all night. I think it was one long ass dream, parts of it were sad, parts of it were scary as hell. I remember someone lecturing us about the effects of rape, I remember someone blaming me for the death of their little brother, I remember hanging out with a bunch of vampires. I remember having sex with Eric from True Blood. My brain feels weird.

Maybe this blog is doomed to be a boring food blog.

I have made up my mind.

No more junk food. EVER.

Ok maybe once in a blue moon, but I'm cutting that shit out cold turkey. I used to be fine eating nearly all healthy, I don't know what happend. The food I'm eating is leaving me feeling gross and unattractive. It's probably not doing my organs much good either.

Today I ate no junk. I had my home-made pancakes, and the home-made soup, and the home-made rice dish, and my fruits and veggies, with some random walnuts thrown in for randomness' sake. I went for a run, which was sadly interrupted by the wind and intense pain in my ears... but all that was still way better than I've been treating my body as of late...

We'll see how this goes.

Irish History & a Vaccum Cleaner.

I have taken note that the majority of my entries in this blog have had to do with food. This was all very unplanned. In fact, I have no idea how it all happend at all. I will attempt to write some entries that are about something other than food. Especially since I don't really plan on this blog being a full out food blog...

Right now, I'm just trying to delay the shitload of work I have to get done. From reading hundreds of pages on Irish history (St. Columba, St. Augustine, St. Patrick, St. etc) to getting my shit together when it comes to Managerial Accounting, to vaccuming the entire house, to taking a shower, to cleaning up the mess that has accumulated in my room for the past few weeks.

My school, as usual, has decided to fuck me over come enrollment time, and I'm waiting for their douche-baggery to run its course.

I pulled some kind of hip muscle during fun times yesterday. I cannot walk without limping, and it's hard to explain to people how I acquired such an injury.

I think that's about all I have in my head for now. I'll return for some more purging of disconnected thoughts soon.

Casimir Pulaski Day.

In the morning in the winter shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing

What's there to say?

"Why not just tell people I'm an alien from Mars. Tell them I eat live chickens and do a voodoo dance at midnight. They'll believe anything you say, because you're a reporter. But if I, Michael Jackson, were to say, 'I'm an alien from Mars and I eat live chickens and do a voodoo dance at midnight,' people would say, 'Oh, man, that Michael Jackson is nuts. He's cracked up. You can't believe a damn word that comes out of his mouth.'"

—Michael Jackson

IRI

Sometimes I feel like the whole world is falling apart.

I know, over-dramatic.

But seriously. I don't notice the chaos until I look at all the little fragments that are breaking apart and falling away far from my grasp.

I grew up in a little country that's been on the news quite a lot in the past few weeks. A country under the rule of an oppressive Islamic Republic that came to power after the people kicked out a somewhat stupid King.

Yesterday, while on the bus, a friend asked me why many Iranian Canadians are so intensely affected by what's happening in Iran... do they still feel so attached to the country they left behind?

I didn't really know how to explain the attachment to her. I haven't been back to that country in 7 years, but watching the things going down in Iran makes me angry and emotional. It might be because all of my family minus the parents and sibling live in Tehran... the centre of the insanity. It might be because I was always against the current system and now seeing it fight to stay in power in the most illogical manner makes my blood boil.

I think my breaking point was when I innocently watched a video posted by a friend. A video of a girl lying on the street dying, while her dad knelt down beside her, trying to comfort her, trying to tell her not to be afraid.

I think my rage and sadness is much like the rage and sadness felt by the Iranian people themselves. It is an accumulation of resentment after years of hardship inflicted on a people by a government that dictates under the name of democracy.

It's obvious that the region is in for a change. What kind of change, I don't know, and that's the part that worries me the most.

mmm...

I'm pretty sure my sleeping brain is just as active as my fully awake, 11 in the morning brain.

This morning I woke up to fresh home-made butter-milk pancakes. They were pretty much the best things ever. Sometimes it scares me how much my mom and I's brains work alike... despite our many differences.

For example, these pancakes.

Just last week I was reading a magazine, and saw the recipe for these buttermilk pancakes in the food section. I skimmed over the ingredients and was excited to see that we had everything Ineeded to make them; that is, everything except baking powder. I wasn't sure if we had it and started to wonder.

Then the next day, my mom returns home from grocery shopping, baking powder in hand. I thought it was some weird coincidence.

Then this morning, I wake up to amazingly awesome pancakes in the kitchen.

What?

On a hot summer's day...

Orhan's random food/recipe entries may have inspired this sudden need to talk about a little snack I had alongside with my dinner tonight. Sadly, I was hungry as hell and ate everything before I had a chance to take a picture... so I have to supplment with an online pic. I promise to take pictures next time.

On a hot day nuts might not be the most appetizing of things in the world... and to solve that problem, the Middle Easterners decided to add fresh walnuts to some good old plain yogurt. Some people add honey to taste, although I've never tried it.

Walnuts are packed with lots of protein, vitamins, and omega acids, so If you ask me I think you should give this little snack a try. :)

The right fit.

There is something oddly awkward about a new blog. It's almost like the first day of class at a new school. You don't really know anyone, don't know what to say, and don't really know what's to come.

It's like that new pair of shoes that fit fine but take a few walks to find their place around your feet.

I guess that's how I feel right now. I like the idea of starting this anew but I find it hard knowing what to write. With my last blog, there was always something I saw or heard about that got me writing... and I had no problem writing it because I knew the blog's identity.

Smiling spoon is like a new friend I haven't yet made.

I don't know if that makes any sense.

Bonjour.

I haven't done this public blogging deal for some years. I thought I'd give it a try. I missed the little community of readers, and the drive they gave me to write.

So I guess this is hello to the old and new :)

P.S the template is under works.