What Can I Say?

I have been lazy and I have enjoyed it. Right now I'm paying for it in anxiety towards last minute homework.

The thing is, I always get it done. But right now, I know that this project will be done half assed. In a way, I don't really mind. I don't much care for it. I still feel bad though.

I'm not sure if it's the seasonal changes or just the time in the school year but everyone seems a little out of sorts lately. I dunno... I know I haven't been in the best head place. Tonight especially. I just want to stay up for hours doing nothing and then sleep tomorrow away.

The problem of learning to share a bed is that you eventually get used to having someone else in it.

A teacher once told me that the 2nd year of university was the hardest.

Dear blog.

Here, have some recent stuff of mine. The lighting is bad on all of these. I apologize.
Live model Painting.

.... and two Intaglio monoprints. These especially did not photograph well. I'm going to have to figure this whole documentation thing better... sigh


PS- I have done nothing today.

Serious attempts at time wasting.

Alright folks, here's the deal. I'm supposed to be writing an essay right? But I'm not (at least not right now [don't worry, it's sort of almost done]). Instead I have been investigating an idea that had been bouncing around my head for a while now. I'm starting to seriously consider the life of a painter, for whatever reason. Essentially it is the only thing that I can picture myself, at this point in time, doing for the rest of my life without getting bored with it. And that is really the best I can do for an explanation right now.


AAAAAanyways, my point is that if I'm into this whole art crap deal I think I'm going to have to eventually dip my toe into exhibiting some work. Effin scary. The VAV gallery (for non Concordia Fine Arts students thats the student art gallery) is accepting submissions for the winter/spring 2008 season and I am considering submitting some work. I am scared shitless (Firefox does not consider shitless a word... hah.) at the very idea. First of all, I can't really think of a common theme in all my paintings that I would talk about in an artist's statement. Second of all, I can't really think of enough paintings or drawings or anything that I am satisfied with that I would want to exhibit. I am terrified that whoever reads these will scoff at my very attempt to submit work. I can just see it now... "what the hell is this girl thinking? Why on earth would we show THIS?

.....

FUUUUUUCK ........


Anyways, I keep telling myself that the worst thing that could happen is that they say no.

Right?

....

My stomach is in knots even thinking about it.....

All Together Now.

I cannot think of a single person that this could not be of benefit to.

Stop.
Close your eyes(not now, finish reading first)

Now just fucking breathe. Just keep breathing until all you can think of is how nice it is to just fucking BREATHE.

Seriously, let's all take a moment to just RELAX and BREATHE.

You can thank me later.

Coherence is overrated.

You know how sometimes you're trying to read in a public place or pay attention to something specific but no matter how hard you try you can't ignore the conversation going on at the next table over? Today was like that. It didn't seem to matter what I was doing, it was as though my mind constantly felt like it had somewhere better to be. The only exceptions to this was painting. Even then, while the actually painting process was immediately satisfying, I spent the rest of the evening brooding.

The thing with painting is that I don't really know why I make the decisions I do. I don't know why anyone else should think it's any good. Most importantly, I don't know if I have enough to show or say to warrant spending the rest of my life painting. I think I'd like to try though. I think I want to try and paint every day for a couple of months, just to see what would happen. Do I have the discipline to do it?
At some point today I drafted a life plan. It went something like this.
1-finish bachelors
2-become independently wealthy
3-spend 1-2 years traveling
4-move to a cottage in the woods outside of some remote northern town (keep small apartment in Montreal for extended visits)
5-paint

Do I even WANT to be a painter? I'm really enjoying my intro to International Politics. I'm thinking I want to take more Political Science classes next semester... But would it fuck up my schedule? (PS- the other day I realized that I'd been misspelling schedule, my whole life convinced I had it right. I'm special.) Would it be worth it coming back an extra semester or two so that I can take these extra classes?

All of those questions have pretty much been running their way through my head all day. It feels good to get them settled. The whole lot of it was starting to make me feel edgy and anxious, like I was supposed to be coming up with immediate answers. I don't think I know a single person who knows exactly what they want to apply their education towards. How is that possible? Are we all insane? We're spending thousands of dollars and investing years of our time for what? A vague promise of something more? the hope that we may somehow stumble into something both lucrative and stimulating? I know, this is an old debate. I would suspect everyone has a different answer to these questions.

Fuck, I don't even know what I'm talking about. I'm not funny anymore on this blog. Actually, I don't know if I was ever funny, but I used to make an effort. Now I just write posts that I find embarrassingly useless and then I get annoyed with my own self consciousness. I mean, honestly, why should I care if this is interesting or not? This isn't require reading, it's not like I expect people to keep up. In fact, when speaking to people I assume they haven't read this meaning I probably repeat myself. Basically it isn't my job to entertain people so I shouldn't care how interesting (or not interesting as the case may be...) my posts are.

OKay, I feel grounded now. I think I'll be able to sleep without thinking myself to insanity.

PS- Folks, feel free to post the meaning of life in response to any of these questions. I feel that it may be educational.

Facebook makes me wants to post in the third person.

I'm wondering how to spend my day... feeling sorry for myself? breaking down doors? reading poli sci at the coffee shop? Or learning how to aqua tint at school?

Maybe a little of all of them.

Note to Self: Let Go.

Once again, I should be sleeping but here I am instead. Too many thoughts on my mind makes it so that whenever I close my eyes, all that happens is that my head goes off on this ranting monologue. Unless I write it down it just continues until it runs into a loop. I suppose it refines itself every time I repeat it in my head but I'd rather have it out of the way.

I'm realizing that I could probably happily devote all my time to any one of my 5 classes this semester. They all interest me on a deeper level, but when I'm forced to deal with them on a superficial level they're mostly tedious. As it is now, I'm often spending 10-12 hours days at school just to keep up. When I take an hour off at lunch I feel guilty if I don't spend it reading. If I come home at 10 I feel guilty if I go to bed right away. I resent my body for needing 8-9 hours of sleep. 5 or 6 would be so much more efficient. After 2 weeks of this I've realized that there is absolutely no point to me taking 5 classes at once. While I'm sure I'll do alright in most if not all of my classes, I feel like I could be getting so much more out of them if I didn't have to rush through all my assignments.

Honestly, what am I in such a hurry for? Why is it essential that I complete my bachelors in exactly 3 years? What am I rushing towards? Absolutely nothing. I have no plans. At least none that rely on my graduating "on time". I think this will be my last semester with 5 classes. There is seriously no point to it. The degree itself means very little to me (and to the rest of the world...), it's mostly about the experience, so I guess I should actually experience it.

My substitute teacher in painting last week felt very strongly that I should take the summer off and just paint. He suggested I find a quiet lake somewhere and just paint everyday. I love this idea so much. I am considering ways to make this possible. So far I've come up with very little, but I have a feeling it will float around in the back of my mind for a while. Complications include: money, location and ... uh... money.

With all this schoolwork my back has become a massive ball of owie. I need a massage, STAT.

Sometimes I feel as though I'm missing something when it comes to relationships. I don't understand how I can be so happy and so wary at the same time. Is trust supposed to just happen between people or are you supposed to make and effort to trust someone because you know they care about you? If your partner doesn't confide in you, should you make them? Should you wait? Is this one of those things that you're supposed to let happen as the relationship grows or is this one of those first hurdles that you're supposed to tackle head on? I think part of my past relationship problems comes from my inability to understand when I should let things happen naturally and when I should make things happen (I'm wandering away from the trust issue here and into more general stuff...). I think I'm forceful when I should be patient and patient when I should be forceful. Right now I don't even know which I am because I keep second guessing myself.

Ugh. This is EXACTLY what I said I wouldn't do this time, the whole over-analyzing crap. The second-guessing. I'm trying so hard to stop being so analytical. I'm just trying to let myself have emotional responses to all these things. I catch myself thinking "is this a feeling based purely on emotion or something you've come to rationally?". I don't even know when I'm acting purely on impulse anymore. I think the only time I can trust myself to blurt out pure unrehearsed feeling is when I'm in hysterics. Clearly this is a state I avoid at all cost.

Do you see Self? This is what happens when you drink too much coffee and read about politics right before going to bed. There's a lot here that I'm not sure I want random people reading. I have no idea who reads this anymore, so half of this (the relationship half) might not be here in the morning. We'll see.

Despite all this mumbo-jumbo I'm happy. (holy crap, I can't even let that one slide. My immediate thought is: are you really happy or are you just saying that because you don't want to allow yourself the chance to realize you're unhappy and the implications that come with that. Which is stupid because I know there's nothing for me to be upset about unless I start looking for it. And why the fuck would I want to do that? Fuck it, I'm happy) I know I feel guilty saying that. I feel like I should excuse myself. Note to self: just don't think about it.

Yeah, I dunno about this anymore. This post is significantly longer and more honest than I have originally intended it to be. I don't know how I feel about that...

Rejoice!

Today is a happy day! After about a week of reading, I have finally "caught" up with my Intro to International Politics readings!

... okay, that's a little misleading. These reading should have been done on monday (ie-3 days ago) and I have about another 30 pages for next monday (ie- in 4 days).

....fuck.

Is there some kind of trick I'm missing? Some kind of way to bend space and time in order to get all these readings done? (ps- have not even STARTED on Art History readings...)

Maybe there's some sort of inherent default in Fine Arts students that make them unable to keep up in Poli Sci... Something like... I never got the poli sci genes, they all went to my brother.

But I am dedicated, I swear! I WILL PREVAIL!!!!!!

Right. Off to Intaglio, yet another class I am totally clueless in.

Tis I, Emily!

Last night while I was working (ie- standing around bored), I fantasized about quitting my job and getting a mohawk.

Maybe it's just the season...

Does anyone know a job where a mohawk is appropriate?

The Cloutier Curse.

As most of you know, a couple years back the coffee shop I worked at burnt down along with the mall it was in. This might jog your memory:

This event was of particular interest to my family because of my grandfather. Many years ago, my grandfather owned a men's clothing store selling mainly suits and nice dress clothes. One night, the store caught on fire (I don't think they ever determined a cause). The place was pretty pwned but my grandfather has always been an optimistic person so he staged some sort of clever "fire sale" and got rid of all the leftover inventory and eventually reopened his shop. I'm not entirely sure how long the time span is in all of this but, as many independent stores do, his shop closed for financial reasons when big malls became in vogue.

This morning, my brother informed me that his place of employment also caught on fire. He works at a convenience store in the Galleries d'Aylmer and last night an electrical fire started causing significant fire, smoke and water damage to the store. From my understanding they closed down the rest of the mall since the was a good deal of smoke and water and such...

My brother and I have hypothesized that there is a Cloutier Curse. 3 members of the Cloutier clan have had fires in their places of employment. This must be a sign.

oh! While treeplanting, we once had to evacuate our block because there was a forest fire about a kilometer away. Coincidence? I think not! More like the Cloutier Curse strikes again!!!!

PS- don't forget to read the post below.

To All Montrealers!

Please allow me to make a shameless plug on my own website.

One of my coworkers has gone through a fair amount of trouble to organize a party at my work, The Veranda. She is really excited about it and wants a big turnout so I promised to bring as many people as possible. So please, Tuesday October 4th, around 9pm, show up at the Veranda to have a grand ole' time and celebrate the first day of school before all the real work starts. Yours truly will be there, in all likelihood getting royally smashed (my coworkers have vowed that this would be the case). We have a more or less private back terasse in which we plan on cramming in as many people as possible as well as probably a DJ. If you need directions then just get in touch with me .

So yeah, that's it. You should come. You should bring your friends. It'll be fun.

Because you all know you want it, here's an Emily update.

So things are happening.
Big things:
- I got paid from treeplanting. Boo-freakin'-ya.
-I've been working 5 days a week as a hostess. As predicted, it's boring as hell but I can leave the house 5 minutes before I start and be on time. I've also been told that if I stick with it a few more weeks I could do the whole waitress thing but my boss is sketchy as hell so... we'll see about that one.
-Because of work, I've met new people. Some of these people are male. One of them is a real swell guy. I'm being cryptic to piss everyone off. Hah. (because I'm conceited enough to think you care)
- School starts soon. I'm hella looking forward to it.

So those are Things.

How about some Thoughts?
Have some thoughts. My job consists of me standing out in front of the terrasse with a stack of menus and try and lure people in to the restaurant. It's a little boring but it can be okay when it's busy. You get to talk with a lot of tourist who often have interesting things to say and they often genuinely want to have a chat with a "local". Other times you get to try and avoid homeless and/or mentally unstable people who also want to chat and/or yell at you. That can be less fun but some of them are rather pleasant polite people. Others are downright scary and I don't mean that in a "oh wow, they're really weird" way but in a "I am seriously concerned for my safety" way. But the scary ones are few and far between and aren't really what concerns me right now. It's no secret that I generally don't dress in a particularly feminine way. Personally, and I'd like to think most would agree, that I look fine the way I dress and, most importantly, I'm comfortable this way. But, as a hostess, I have to make some sort of effort to look "nice". As a result, I've taken to wearing a lot of skirts (for some reason I have a lot of these that I rarely wear. Luckily, I like wearing them. Unluckily, I would rather not wear them every day). I don't HAVE to wear a skirt, I just don't own many pairs of nice pants. (by nice I mean not ripped, covered in paint and/or 3 sizes too big)

***WARNING: the rest of this is really long and rant-like and, as Rhonda would put it, full of feminist-like rage. If you don't feel like sitting through it, then you have my full permission to skip this one***

What I'm taking forever to get at here, is that for work I generally wear clothes that would be considered more feminine than what I'm used to. On top of this, part of my job is to be pleasant to everyone who passes and generally call attention to myself/the restaurant. What this does is that it subjects me to a fair amount more of male attention than I'm used to. Basically, it's starting to disgust me. It's not that they're always overt with it, it's the fact that I'm treated drastically different than, say for example, a guy would be doing my job. Every time a man walks by and I smile and say hi and he looks back like 5 times with this stupid grin on his face as he goes down the road it just makes me want to come to work in sweatpants. It drives me nuts that I can't get in to a conversation with a guy at work without it eventually leading to him hitting on me. It honestly feels like I'm a girl first and a person second. That the only way that I can be interesting to these guys is if there's a chance they can get to paw all over me. It's not that they are condescending or insult my intelligence directly, it's the fact that because I'm female and dressed attractively it can only lead to one thing. I'm realizing now how lucky I am to have the friends I do who have always treated me like any other person regardless of the fact that I have boobs.

man, instead of pacifying me, this rant is just pissing me off more. Some nights when I just don't feel like dealing with it, I deliberately wear the most unrevealing and conservative thing I can think of. The fact that I even consider this angers me a lot. Why should I change what I wear because of other people? Why is it that I have to basically hide the fact that I'm female before men treat me like an equal? Oh and to put a cherry on top of it all, I found out that someone from the street thinks I'm gay. Okay, this one will take a bit of explaining. The restaurant I work at is on a little pedestrian street with about 15 or so restaurants on it. Because I stand at the same spot at the same time every day, I've begone to both recognize a lot of people and be recognized. I've befriended a flower seller who is one of the few men I've had regular conversation with without him making either a pass at me or some sort of physical compliment. Anyways, the other day he told me that he got into a debate with someone on the street (he wouldn't me who) as to whether or not I was gay. Apparently, this mystery person (a guy) felt that I was a lesbian because he's seen me dress in more boy-ish clothes and the short hair and whatever other stereotypical thing he was going on. Now at the time, I thought this was pretty funny and in a way I still do. I'm not insulted in the least and couldn't care less that he thought that. The part that bothers me is the fact that because I don't regularly emphasize my stereotypical female traits (curves, hair, legs... whatever) the logical conclusion is that I'm not trying to attract men and that I must be gay. The assumption here is that the only way to show my interest in men is to show off my body so that they are attracted to me. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

Are we in a society so fucked up that not only is the only way for a woman to show her interest in men is to show off her body but that the only way a man can be attracted to a woman is initially because of her body. That sentence was convoluted and awkward but I don't care. The thing is, I know that thats not how all guys think. In fact, the optimistic side of me thinks that MOST guys are interested in intellect first. I mean, I'm friends with so many guys for a reason. But for some reason, the guy thats most represented and most obvious out there is the sexist jackass. At least, he's the guy that I notice everyday. To be fair, I must deal with plenty of men who are perfectly respectful people but I probably forget them right away because that's the behavior I expect. It's normal in my mind. It's ordinary. What stands out most obnoxiously is the dude who thinks that because I had a 3 minute conversation with him, he's got the right to try and sleep with me. Or the man who feels it's a compliment when he tells me I look sexy today. Or the guys who leer.

Basically, I want people to treat me like I have no relationship with sex. I am just a person in some sort of body that you can talk to. Done and done. Quit staring at my ass.

So sorry for the rant. Don't say I didn't warn you. I also get a lot of time to think at this job. We all know how bad that is for me.

Ridiculous.

So today, in a panic over my current financial state, I decided that it was time for me to get off my ass and get a job. Off I go, ten freshly printed copies of my resume under my arm, in search for employment. What I didn't factor in was the fact that I'm terrified of the kinds of places I want to work in. I would really like something that might make over minimum wage, ie-waitress. Of course, having never worked in a restaurant before, I'm horribly intimidated by the whole thing. So I spent a good hour wandering around the neighborhood coming up with increasingly more creative reasons for why I shouldn't apply to every store I walk by.

In the end I took my balls in hand and dropped a few off. The result?

Well I have what sounds like a trial shift at a bar wednesday night and what sounds like a hostess job. In both cases the owner was very abrupt and vague, not to mention heavily accented making me paranoid that I was constantly misunderstanding them. I'm terrified of both my potential employers. I'm terrified of this trial shift at the bar. I've never worked a bar before! What if I'm hopelessly lost? And hostessing... ok, there seems to be very little that can go wrong with that one... but I don't want to be bored either! Basically, I'm having a right freak out at the moment for no reason at all. GAHHHHHHH.

Of Quotes -or- Treeplanting: The Aftermath

In the past 24 hours two quotes have made me stop and think.... "heh.... that's sort of true.". Ok, so yeah, they weren't life changing or anything but they definitely provided me with temporary diversion.

After having your activities decided for you every day for two whole months, you kind of lose the impulse to plan ahead since there's just no need for it. It would kind of go like this... What are we going to do tomorrow? Plant trees. Ok, how about the day after that? Plant trees. ...and after that? Still planting trees. But now that I'm back in the real world, I have to start thinking about what I'm going to do tomorrow, and the day after that. So far I've had enough people to see to keep me busy for a week. But I'm realizing that I can't indefinitely bum around my parents' house randomly hanging out with people and spending money that I shouldn't. Eventually I have to go back to Montreal and get a job and... like.. work? See, this is my problem! I'm direction less. This was the state of mind I was in when yesterday, while bored, I happened to read my Horoscope. The first part was some mumbo jumbo about someone was going to try and scam me. But the second part said this: "A change of work may leave you feeling left out or vulnerable".

Let me set the record straight. I DON'T believe that Astrology can tell the future. I DON'T believe that it can tell me something about myself that I don't already know. I think that people read these things and make up similarities to their own lives. That being said, I'm starting to think that there might be some validity to these imaginary links. Maybe in searching for some kind of connection between your horoscope and your own life you take a deeper look at something about yourself that you'd been ignoring. Most of these things can apply to anyone if you try hard enough. So maybe horoscopes are an excuse for a little bit of introspection. Either way, that's what this one line did for me. I'd been feeling a little edgy and I realized that it was because I DO feel a little vulnerable. I've lost the stability I had for two months and now I have to re-create it. So I'm kind of looking forward to finding a job and eventually going back to school.

The bizarre thing in all of this is that I'm enjoying this whole free time business to death. I'm loving being around my family. I'm loving seeing friends that I only see once every few months. As always, when I'm in Aylmer, Montreal seems so far away. I rarely want to go back. That is, until the bus pulls into the Montreal station and it hits me that I'm home. Which brings me to quote number two. This one I found today, again while bored, when I was wandering through old blog posts of mine and found a comment Rhonda left (Two days in a row on my blog!). She wrote: "Like, what the hell Montreal? You make me feel apathetic, accepting, and fucking glorious." It was in response to something I said about how Montreal fucks people up or something to that effect. The point being that it's those same conflicting emotions that makes me confused about how I feel about my home in Montreal. I know I don't want to move away, it's one of the few things I am certain of right now. At the same time, I never seem to be in a rush to go back. I don't know where I'm going with this.

In other news, I'm heading off to my grandparent's cottage tomorrow and I won't be back until sunday. That's right, I am going from doing next to nothing here to doing absolutely nothing over there. I am looking forward to doing nothing but reading in the sun and eating for 3 days.

Catch you on the flip side.

The Post in Which Emily Makes a Triumphant Return to The Blogosphere.

As you all probably know, I've been home for about a week now. While I posted something about my Triumphant Return on Facebook, I decided to hold off on the blogging in order to make a more... considered response.

The question everyone asks is "How was treeplanting?" or "did you have fun?" or "did you enjoy it?". The first thing everyone needs to know is that this is a job. Some people seem to think it's some sort of vacation destination which it's anything but. Not only is it a job but it's an incredibly difficult one. Eventually you get used to the physical aspect of it (sort of...) but the mental part is hard until the very last day. Actually, in my case, and I think other planters might agree, it only got harder near the end.

I wrote Rhonda a letter on June 8th, about 5 weeks into the whole affair. In true Emily fashion, I never sent the damn thing (Rhonda, I'll type it up and send it to you soon) but I think I summed up how I felt about the whole thing decently... I edited out stuff I don't want to advertise to the whole internet and pointless details. I also re-wrote a few parts to add more details.

"Dear Rhonda,
First off, I'm not going to lie, once I got here I pretty much decided I wasn't going to write any letters. Turns out waking up at 5 am and working for 10 hours makes you not want to sit down and write. Who knew? Days off are no better either. The way it works it that you work a half day on your night off before heading to town. Generally you're drunk as soon as possible. If you're lucky, the laundromat will be unsupervised and you can get a head start while you're doing your laundry. Your "day off" is spent hungover wandering around a shitty little town waiting until your ride back to camp decides to leave.

I'm not really sure what to write about. So much has happened that if I wrote it all down you'd get a novel. Don't particularly feel like novel writing.... So I'll give you the short version. We just finished off our 3rd contract and are on our way to Sioux Lookout, our 4th and final camp. We've been in various camps around Manitoba so far, but this next place is in Ontario. The way it works is that the people who hired me, HRI (Heritage Reforestation Inc), bid for planting contracts. For every contract there is a certain amount of trees to be planted and once all those trees are in the ground the contract is over and we move on to the next one. Except for the first week, it's pretty much just been a small crew of about 15 people (including management and cook). When you spend 24/7 with the same 15 people you get pretty comfortable with one another. Except eventually all the crap that people can't stand about each other catches up with you. Actually, it's actually quite funny to watch from a distance when you're not involved.

There's not a single artist here, it's like a mind vacation. Treeplanting is like the anti-art experience. All you have the energy to do is eat sleep and plant trees. Oh, and once a week you get shit-faced. So no room for deep thoughts or meaningful, introspective conversations. We're more likely to talk about the shit we had that day or retell the stories from night off for those who were too drunk to remember what happened. Most people here use the word feminist as an insult, but they're either smart enough or dumb enough that they don't actually mean it. Someone called me an "accidental feminist". That'd be Luke. He's about the only one I've had intellectual (as in it went beyond poop) conversation with. He's a really smart guy and will talk about the location of the soul and other stuff that blows my mind but then he'll say something like he's a firm believer in Steak & Blowjob day or how if someone cheats on their boyfriend/girlfriend it's in the relationship's best interest to not say anything about it or how he wouldn't mind if his kid turned out to be gay, he'd just RATHER he'd be straight or he'll try and convince me that saying something like "man that's so GAY" isn't ACTUALLY offensive and come up with semi convincing arguments. As you can see, we didn't see eye-to-eye on many things but it makes for some really interesting arguments. I also punched him in the face during an overly rowdy wrestling match. At the time, he was still my crew boss. Needless to say, alcohol was involved....

Oh! You of all people should appreciate this. I got to drive my first 4-wheeler last night! It could not have been a worse idea. There were 4 rules on the warning label:
-don't carry passengers
-don't drive under the influence of drugs and alcohol
-don't drive without proper instruction
-always wear a helmet

We broke all 4.
We'd been drinking all afternoon (we'd just finished off a contract so it was not only a night off, we were also celebrating) and someone said they were going to take the ATV for a spin. So I, in jest, pipe in and ask "Can I drive!?" figuring I'd get a good laugh out of it before shooting me down. But I guess they were drunk enough to not care. So I hop on, not drunk but... well... not sober, and Luke gets on behind, probably more buzzed than I. Two more people jump on to perch on the back while Luke gives me on the fly instructions. Basically I drove us up and down the cottage road we were on until our boss flagged us down and said that there were a couple RCMPs who live on the same road, so cut it the fuck out. [I actually got to drive a 4 wheeler again a few weeks later. It was under equally unsafe conditions and just as fun]

The actual tree planting itself alternates between being great and terrible. I pretty much curse myself on a daily basis for ever trying this all the while making mental plans to come back next year. I only started making good money about a week ago. I mean, I was making money before, but not enough for it to seem like it was really worth it. But in the last planting days, I didn't once make under 125$/day, and sometimes it was a bit more. I'm m pretty sure I'll make 2-3 times more money in my second month than I did in my first. At least that's the plan. [I'd say my calculations then were about right. As a side note, the most I ever made in a day was about 350$, which is 4000 trees. I did it once and it almost killed me. I never came close to it again. Near the end a more reasonable amount was around 200$ a day, about 2200 trees. Of course this was only in the last week or two.]

Here's a funny little anecdote for you... About 2 hours ago, my bad bounced off the roof rack and got run over on the highway, nearly causing a 3 car collision. Needless to say, the bag is pretty fucked. I need to see if my tent survived, I have a feeling it's pretty pwned. [miraculously, the tent was the only thing in the bag that survived unscathed] As much as this sucks huge monkey balls, it's made much worse by the fact that most of that gear is my parents. Fuck.

[the rest of the letter is just me wrapping it up, saying goodbye and speculating on my return date. Boring stuff]"

And that's that. That was longer than I remembered. The thing with treeplanting is that with all the screwed up things that happen, some of your worst days are the ones that make the best stories. Like the time we planted for 10 days straight in a swamp. Or the time I planted in waist deep water. Or the contract that had us sit in a boat for 45 mins there AND back EVERY GODDAMN DAY. Or the daily quad ride that coated us in mud every single time. Or the trench foot. Or waking up at 3am because there's a thunderstorm and your tent is leaking on your forehead. Or waking up at 4 am EVERY MORNING, an hour and a half before you have to, because that's when the generator turns on. Bears. Being cold. Being hot. Being tired. I swear, I could continue this list for HOURS. Just to clarify, I'm not complaining. That would be stupid. I signed up for this and was well paid for it. But this is what treeplanting is. You go through shit and then you look back and think damn that sucked, but what a hell of a story it makes!

And Yes. there are good times. Like the day we quit early because of a forest fire and went to the beach instead. Or how every night, supper is the best meal you've ever had, just because it's the only relaxing part of your day. Or seeing a bald eagle. Or hearing wolves howl. Or impromptu 4 wheeler races/mud fights. Or nights off. Or getting kicked out of countless bars and hotels all across Manitoba and Ontario. Or the immense satisfaction of knowing you just beat your Personal Best (the most trees you planted in a day). Or getting to drive a 4 wheeler. The paycheck (which I have not yet received). While this list isn't quite as long as the other one it could still go on for a bit. These are the things that keep you sane (well... sort of sane) while in the bush for 2 months. Personally I didn't so much learn new things about myself, but more about the life I lead. I dunno... that's for another post on another day.

For now, I need to go enjoy some of this freedom while I still have it. Hope this wasn't too long/boring. Cheers.

2 month leave of absence.

I'm out.

Everyone knows where I'm going so I don't need to go into that. I'm just making things official. I MIGHT (big might) hit up an internet cafe on a day off but I have my doubts. But you never know...

All to say, expect 2 months of radio silence.

You all better still be alive when I get back or I'll be really pissed.

Got it?


PS- lots of love.

Those 2 days were crucial...

I just found out that my official departure date for tree planting is April 28th. 2 or 3 days BEFORE I expected to leave. For some reason those few days have sent me into a panic. I promised so many people I'd say goodbye and now I'll be lucky if I see half of them. I still need to find boots... Do you have any idea how hard it is to find Steal toed boots in a size 5???

Driving to Montreal to see Modest Mouse is a TERRIBLE idea right now but I'm not bailing on that.

fuck fuck fuck...

It is done!

Wow... when did my room get so big?

Today is the day.

I've been putting this off for a long time now and it's long over due. It's been hanging over my shoulders for weeks now and as painful as it's going to be, it needs to be done. This is it.

I am going to clean my room today.

There. I said it. It's on the internet therefore it's true (that's how it works, right?).

In other news I just shaved my legs and put cream on. I am so smooooooooooooth.


PS- It's real purty out today.

Alright self.

Stop dicking around.

How old are you? 20? Let's get serious here. Quit it with the high school crush crap.

Goddamn it em...

Time management is a bitch.

One way to make more time to do whatever it is you have to do, usually school, the easiest solution is to sacrifice sleep. Well I sacrificed my sleep and payed for it in personal health. I've had a cold for a week and a half and it was JUST starting to go away. Now I'm all scratchy throat and cough.
But I am done (minus one last small project....), done, done done. I'm going to spend the day in bed (I'm pretty much halfway there...) and no one is going to stop me.

and to think...it started with a pair of gloves..

Once again I have chosen a project for artX that started out sounding not only interesting but simple to finish. Of course, it has turned into a tedious disaster. As a result, I'm up at 3 in the morning quite literally watching paint dry. Kill me now.

A lot has happened in the last couple of weeks. I'll only touch on the biggest events I guess, I don't really remember the rest.

I'll be going tree planting. For two months near Winnipeg. That's right, Winnipeg. Of all places I thought I'd spend two months of my summer, Winnipeg was not even near the list. It hit me today that I'd be in a different time zone, which somehow makes the event more significant. I'll be going without anyone I know which both makes me glad and uneasy. It'll give me the opportunity to meet new people but what if there is no connection and we have no interest in talking to one another? The thought of 2 months with no friends, new or old, is somewhat daunting. I'm also worried about how much strain my body can take... I'd like to think that I can will it to do anything, and maybe I can, but I have a feeling that this is just wishful thinking. And most important of all, I hope I come out of this with money. And lots of it. I liked not working while in school and hope I can keep that up next year, which, of course, requires money.

So yeah, I'm worried about all that but excited about an experience of a lifetime.

In grades 7 and 8 I was more or less bullied. I say more or less because it was half hearted, they didn't care enough to put full out effort into it. I just remember it so well because it was the majority of the interaction I had with my classmates. Anyways, I got out of that shitty deal and went to Philemon Wright and kind of... fixed myself. Or at least my self esteem. Basically, through the support of amazing friends and being surrounded by a mostly positive environment, I gradually became the person I am now. This weekend I had the... well... I'm going to say "opportunity" for now... of speaking to the people who gave me hell about 7 years ago. Now considering I grew out of the person I was before, I assumed they had as well. Not so. Long story short, things got ugly. I'm not going to go into details about what happened exactly partially because they've been discussed to death at this point and partially because I'm not entirely sure how things went so wrong so fast. The short version is: They were assholes, we retaliated, everyone was drunk and things escalated.

Now. What is to be learned from this. First, I have amazing friends. I didn't want anyone else to get pulled into this, I'd feel guilty if anyone else was hurt. But it's comforting to know that some people, like Viki and Lily, will step up and be just as furious as though the offense had been done to them personally. Well... eventually they were personally offended plenty, but that's besides the immediate point... I know I shouldn't be endorsing anger and aggressive behavior, but fuck it, I'm glad that Viki smacked in the face and I'm glad Lily gave his friend a dressing down. Does it make me a bad person? Could not care less. Eventually arguing the morals of a situation becomes pointless and you just need to tell an asshole to step off.

Second, I now know what it is like to feel a true violent impulse. Never before have I more wanted to break someones face, regardless of the consequences. In the end I didn't and I'm not sure why. The intent was there and I certainly was in no place to contemplate if it was "right" or not... I think it just comes down to I wasn't provoked quite far enough. I have conflicting emotions about this... I am, for the most part, glad I didn't hit him. I know I would think less of myself for giving into irrational impulses and for not dealing with the situation in an intelligent way. It would also be hard to think of myself as the victim in this situation when I threw the first punch. Basically, to be cliche, I would be going down to his level. This is the part where I thank other friends who tried to mediate and intervene when things got heated. I apologize that I can't name names on this one, but all I remember are arms pulling me away when I shoved someone or a body between me and whatever it was I was trying to destroy. I thank you for keeping a calm and collected head and for not letting me do anything stupid.

On the other hand... A lot of the comments aimed to Viki, lily and I throughout the affair were meant to demean us as weak irrational females, which just makes the feminist blood in me boil. I can't help but feel like it would serve the cocky little bastard right to have his nose broken by a "weak female". I'm not stupid, I know if we were alone he'd probably destroy me if I tried that, but there were enough people around us that at most he'd land a punch or two, which I can deal with. A part of me would take great satisfaction in knowing that I had stood up for myself and my friends and possibly given the prick something to remember me by. Maybe, MAYBE even given him reason to reconsider picking fights with people he thinks he can walk all over. Although that one is unlikely...

In the end, I now understand how fights start and how quickly you can get carried away. I get upset when people miss the point of this story and say things like... "he hit a girl???" or "whatever, you guys were just drunk". Me being a girl had nothing to do with how things started or how we reacted. Yes alcohol played a big role, but it only amplified whatever emotions we had, it didn't change them. I'm angry at myself for just breaking down at some point, although I understand I was justified in the emotion. It just pisses me off that he (and the rest of the goddamn bar) had the satisfaction of seeing me cry and scream like a crazy person. On the other hand, I'm glad that there are some people in the world who, without any real ties to me whatsoever, will take the time to make me feel normal at the end of an emotional outbreak like that.

So now I have this written down, it has been officially documented. I don't know if it was especially entertaining to anyone but I'm glad to get it officially out of my system. We've talked about it a lot (it's not everyday that we get into near bar-brawls) but I think I needed to write it down for myself. Well I think I've rambled on for long enough.

Besides, I need to go back to watching paint dry.

Montreal is weird.

I just got bitched at for trying to take a woman's chair. I'll admit it was rude to take it without asking (I was distracted and the chair was just far enough from her table [she emphasized for me that it was HERS] for me to not immediately think about it), however I do not think I deserved the dressing down she gave me for it, even after I apologized and offered to put it back (again, I admit I'm guilty of perhaps eventually making a face when she would just NOT DROP IT). "Luckily", there was a "nice" man sitting nearby who "kindly" intervened and caused the thing to escalate into a shouting match between the two, ending with him calling the woman a cow.

The only positive side in all of this is that while they were verbally duking it out, I was able to discretely slide the chair back to its original spot (where it has remained, untouched) , slip back to my seat and put my headphones on mostly unnoticed. Added bonus, I think I was the only one of the three who didn't come off as a complete asshole to the rest of the coffee shop.

Throughout the whole thing, all I could think of was that I have 6 pages to write on my essay. I DONT CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING CHAIR LADY.

artsy fartsy stuff

So that's my bastardization of a Mark Rothko painting. The little one on the side is just to give you an idea of scale... We had to chose an abstract painter and try to learn from imitating their style. Actually, we had to chose two. The second one I chose was Paul-Emile Borduas. You can find that one bellow.

Nothing more to say for the moment... If your interested, it's really easy to find information on both these artists online. Or just ask me personally. Or if enough people are interested, I'll post a little info.

That is all.

In light of recent events...

I've reconsidered... Maybe it isn't Montreal that fucks you up, but rather art school.


My drawing TA engaged me in a conversation about theology and how his faith keep philosophy from making him crazy. Of course I'm paraphrasing, the point being I really disagreed with a lot of the things he said but my mind was running 5 minutes behind his and instead of a coherent discussion, he got a blank stare. Of course the minute I left the building, I had lined up about 3 or 4 points I had wanted to make. The fault lies entirely on myself for getting zero hours of sleep the night before and the whole thing made me disgruntled and unsettled. Within five minutes down the street to the metro I had convinced myself that I would never make it in the arts and that on top of that, the art were bullshit to begin with. This clearly lead to intense existential angst and a near tearful breakdown at the fact that I was now direction less and useless.

All while waiting for the metro!

Luckily I got home, took a nap (if 3 hours of sleep can still be considered a nap...) and went to karate which got my head back in gear. Being up for 25 hours is a lot like being drunk; you stop being able to filter the crap common sense generally ignores.

My number 2 is sticky... I think there is something under the key.... Fuck.

Rhonda and I lose at life.

Rhonda says:
emily - i failed my UWT
Rhonda says:
HOW DID I DO THAT
emily says:
WTF????
emily says:
holy shit Rhonda....\
emily says:
so the results are back?
Rhonda says:
yes
Rhonda says:
all it says is that i did not meet the requirments
Rhonda says:
i am pretty sure i can write
Rhonda says:
and i didnt half ass anything...I WROTE ALOT urgghhaaahhhh
emily says:
This is only funny because I know you can write
emily says:
wait... you already missed one... do you get another chance?
Rhonda says:
I BETTER
Rhonda says:
oh wow
Rhonda says:
actually i don't think the one i missed counted
Rhonda says:
because when i checked it just said i still hadn;et taken it
Rhonda says:
OMG
Rhonda says:
anyway i need to e-mail
emily says:
WHAT THE FUCK????
emily says:
NOT MET - SEE CALENDAR SECT.16.2.4
Rhonda says:
EMILY WE CUCK
Rhonda says:
I MEAN SUCK
emily says:
...
emily says:
...
emily says:
...
emily says:
FUCKERS
emily says:
I can totally write!
Rhonda says:
I AM SO MAD. I know we can write. What the hell did we do wrong?
emily says:
...
Rhonda says:
if we have to take an english course i will totally blow something up
emily says:
maybe there's a mistake...
Rhonda says:
...sure. fuckers marked our paper. That is the damn mistake
emily says:
OH fucking hell
Rhonda says:
...did you do a standard essay format?
emily says:
okay, we're supposed to get a score
emily says:
from 1 to 6
emily says:
I think they havent graded them yet
Rhonda says:
but whenever i checked before it didn't have that.
Rhonda says:
ok true maybe i am freaking out for nothing...
Rhonda says:
maybe i made you freak out for nothing
Rhonda says:
but emily that was never there before(
emily says:
http://universitywritingtest.concordia.ca/UWT_Results.html
emily says:
read that
emily says:
douchebag
Rhonda says:
LMAO
Rhonda says:
woot woot
Rhonda says:
...
Rhonda says:
sorry?
emily says:
lol
emily says:
I hate you
emily says:
but that was hilarious
Rhonda says:
Just a little.

About time I suppose...

You know, I think that in some situations I like being told what to do. I find it comforting to have guidance. To a certain extent I've always felt safest with people who have taken control of situations. Looking back on it, I can see I've always felt this way.

I'm not sure what the difference is lately... either I'm rejecting out of hand what people tell me what to do or I disagree or I'm finding myself in more situations that others can't guide me through. I think it's good for me to try and make my own decisions. Of course I've always made my own choices but it was generally within the advice of my friends and family. Going outside that advice makes me anxious, unsure and probably defensive. I'm just talking myself in circles here...

I can't decide what's worse... Decisions that are 100% within my control or one completely out of my hands. I'm just thinking out loud here. I don't really know.

Montreal is a special place, it reaaaally knows how to fuck with you. And no, that's not a statement I care to elaborate on. Move here and you'll figure it out yourself.

And this is why I've kept this blog for so long. I want to look back at this in two years and think... what the fuck was she talking about?? I read back at my posts from 3 years ago and am thoroughly embarrassed of them. But that's why I keep them around. Whenever I feel like shit about my life and where it's going I just read a few old posts. It's amazing how much I've changed in so short a time. I want to know who I'll be in 5 years. I want to know what things I'll stick with and what things I'll drop. I want to know the events that will affect me. But most of all, I want to know that I won't be the person that I am today. Not because I have a big problem with me, but because I think growth is one of the most important things a person can do.

Hah... I want to know if I'll think that that last statement was total bullshit.

This thing is good. I like this whole thinking dump business. I feel better.

Mack and John

***EDIT*** I posted an unfinished and unrevised version of the story last night. This is the final copy***

This is something new. I'm taking a creative writing class and I have to write the first to pages to a short story.
Any comments are welcome.

Mack and John

I was sleeping, so I probably answered the phone with a mumble. It’s possible that he caught me in the middle of a good dream, in which case I might have managed a slightly more polite “Yeah..?”. What I do know is that it was a Saturday morning. I know this because I distinctly remember wondering who in their right mind would call on a Saturday morning when everyone knows Saturday morning directly follows Friday night.

“Mack”, the breathless voice on the other line began, “You have to help me…”

Of course. I knew right away that is could only be John. I’d say that his voice was strange but John always sounded a little queer. I could only blame the hangover for not having thought of him sooner.

“Last night”, he went on without waiting for me to say anything, “I don’t remember what we did but, like, I was wearing this coat. You know the coat, the one with all the pockets. You know what coat I’m talking about right? The red one? With the pockets?”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead in a useless attempt to massage my headache away. “John, if you called me to talk about a damn coat…” I rolled over in bed to see if I could spot a glass of water anywhere within arms reach.

Again, he rushed on, ignoring me. “So I woke up this morning, right? With the coat? And, like, I was looking in the pockets for a stick of gum because we’re out of toothpaste and I found this note..” Here his voice dropped to a tone I guess was meant to be conspiring, “The note said”, he paused, “bread, peanut butter, honey, margarine and a knife”.

He paused again. I could hear him breathing slowly into the receiver. I waited with my face buried in my pillow until it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t going to speak again until I gave him some sort of answer.

I guess I could have been surprised or confused that a scrap of misplaced paper could get a guy so agitated. But when you’ve been around John for long enough, these things become not so much expected as… well… accepted.

Once upon a time, I had a brief relationship with pet fish, probably to impress a girl with my tender caring side, that required a trip to the pet store. While I was in the store staring in confusion at the various fish paraphernalia, a young man burst through the door with a wild jingle of the bell installed on the doorframe. He took three quick steps into the store and stopped abruptly with his arms held out by his sides. His eyes were bulging, his forehead was slick with sweat and his breath was heavy as he swung his body around once or twice looking as though he expected to be attacked at any moment. The store clerk had not moved from behind his counted and flinched as the young man screamed in his direction “A cat! I need a cat!”

I don’t know what came over me at that moment. Maybe my short experience as a caregiver for the fish had inspired some previously untapped nurturing instinct. Maybe I just liked his style. Either way, I felt it necessary that I take him under my wing. I boldly stepped forward and placed a firm hand on his shoulder and said “My friend, what you need is a drink.”

So there I was, two years later, laying there with my headache to keep me company, holding the phone to my ear, listening to John breathe and I realized that I could use that drink right now… I looked up from my pillow again in yet another desperate attempt to find water. Failing, I sighed deeply and made no attempt to hide the irritation in my voice as I finally gave in.

“And? What about the list?”

“Well… What do you think it means?” He sounded afraid.

“I have no fucking clue John! It just sounds like a damn grocery list!” I don’t normally swear and I regret it in hindsight, but I just needed some damn water…

“No Mack!” He was becoming agitated “The knife! Did you hear the part about the knife? You don’t put a knife in a grocery list, it just doesn’t make sense! Why would there be a knife?”

The headache had gone from bad, to really fucking bad, even by my standards. The water was now becoming very, very important and I had almost resolved to actually leave the bed. John had been rambling about a knife. I didn’t know what he was talking about and I knew that if I let him go on like this I would never be able to get back to sleep.

“Uh… John? Hold on a second…” I chucked the phone onto the bed as I lurched myself into a standing position. While I stood for a moment, trying to not fall back onto the bed, I could hear a tiny voice from the receiver saying “Mack? Buddy? Where did you go? Are you there? Mack?”. If I was lucky he would hang up, but I knew he wouldn’t. I found my way around the clutter on the floor, wincing and holding my head the whole way to the kitchen. How could I get rid of him? Shoving dishes around on the counter I checked out the various glasses until I found one that probably wouldn’t contaminate the water I was about to pour in. I knew that he could drag on the conversation about the knife for hours, so I’d just have to find something he didn’t want to talk about. I downed my first glass in a few gulps and poured myself another before shuffling my way back to the bed.

When I picked up the phone he had stopped talking but I could still hear him breathing into the receiver. “Hey John?” This was my chance to catch him off guard. “I was just thinking. Do you remember that ten bucks I lent you? About a month ago? Well I kind of need that back. Like… Soon.” I was already getting back into bed, congratulating myself on my brilliant strategy. If there is one thing that could get rid of John, it was the mention of an unpaid debt.

-----

Of course this is unfinished. Like I said, he only wanted the first two pages. I'll probably write the whole thing one day.

This just isn't that day.

word vomit.

It's odd... I'm constantly writing blog entries in my head to be typed up and posted at a later date but it just never gets done. I wish I could update telepathically since all my best ideas come while I'm walking to school or in class or at some equally inappropriate time. It's unfortunate because writing things down really helps me to sort things out in my own head. That's really why I have this big 'ole waste of cyber space, to work thing out (although it's often used for other purposes).

Anyways, lets just say I've had a lot of things to work out recently. A trip home to Aylmer generally does that to me. Good old AY... where would I be without your endless drama?

10 years ago you never could have convinced me that I'd EVER have the problem of too much male attention. Well I can now safely say that not only is it possible, but that I am, and always have been, completely inept at handling these situations. At Viki and Lily's party I stressed myself out to no end and wanted nothing more than five minutes alone to get a handle on the various situations around me. Instead, I acted like a spaz and know it, just like I'm pretty sure everyone else noticed. I wish I could have a re-do of the night so that I could approach the evening with much more levelheadedness. Don't get me wrong, I did have fun, but my attention was just concentrated on all the wrong things.

I had so many other things to deal with but I can't think of them right now...

Quick notes:
-Skiing was awesome. Nothing gets me quite as pumped as downhill skiing. The adrenaline is amazing.

-I think I'm going to quit smoking. Obviously I never smoked cigarettes but I mean anything else (weed, hukkah, cigars...). My lungs constantly feel full of crap and for the past few months whenever I cough I sound like I'm on the verge of a cold. If smokers can quit, so can I. I figure that by posting it here I'll be less likely to go back on it. Basically, no moral reasons (obviously...) and all wanting-my-lungs-to-feel-less-like-death reasons.

Ok so that last note wasn't very quick but... well... it's there anyways.

I was supposed to go to bed about an hour ago.

oops.

Masking Tape Adventures

I spent most of last night working on my latest drawing project (save for a random 1am encounter with some Master Fine Arts students)

Here is the fruit of my labours:

And now about a bazillion closeups:

This one is a little blurry, but I'm trying to move from top to bottom... bear with me...
Well now that I've posted far too many pictures than can possibly be justified... I'll leave it at that. For some reason everything I type is underlined and blue.... I don't get it....

Darling Rhonda

As you may or may not have heard, my darling roomate Rhonda has had difficulties with her laptop and has been computer-less for the past few days (unimaginably tragic, I know). I, out of THE GOODNESS OF MY HEART, have been letting her use mine when I don't really need it.

The dear thanked me by changing my desktop to this:

For shame Rhonda, for shame!

PS- this is my 500th post. I was planning some sort of retrospective crap for the event but I'll save it for number 501 or something...

Public Service Annoucement

To anyone feeling restless or unsettled lately, I recommend trying to fix one small thing in your life. It can do wonders.

For example: I just changed my sheets. It feels fantastic. In fact, I suggest everyone go out, change your sheets and make your bed. Then climb in naked and enjoy the feeling of clean sheets on your skin. Then sleep. Sleep for as long as you want. Then, I garantee you, you will feel better. No matter how good or how bad you felt when you went to bed, you will wake up just that much better.

Next step: actually doing your homework. I hear that helps...

Who has two thumbs and is incredibly screwed?

This girl!

I really need to stop eating so much junk food...

Well... I'm really quite bored at the moment, looking at my homework assignment sitting unfinished on the kitchen table. If I were not me I would strongly suggest to myself to use this time to my best advantage (whenever I nag myself my voice sounds oddly like my mother's). But since I AM me, I think I'll tell myself to go stuff it and continue wasting time.

I didn't MEAN to skip karate, it just happened. I'll admit, I didn't REALLY want to go outside, but I would have.

I don't really know why I'm posting. I have nothing to say other than little has changed since my last two posts and I've gotten really good at wasting time.

Yeah... I'd say that's about all I got.

The usual...

...It's late and I can't sleep. At least I don't HAVE to get up early tomorrow, I just aim to.

My body is exhausted. I didn't take more than a 30 minute break today between 8:30 and 8. Class, canvas building/stretching/gessoing and karate. Oh yeah... I'm taking karate again, I don't think I mentioned that. It's good to be busy. I don't think I thought of anything but work all day. It felt nice. I guess now it's just cathing up to me.

The skin on my knuckles is all rough and torn off from stretching canvas. Who ever said being an artist was easy? I just built a 5 1/2 foot by 7 foot canvas in 7 hours. Now I don't think that's that bad. If it sounds like I'm bragging, it's because I am. But that was the easy part. Now I have to drag the damn thing around (and it's fucking heavy for a canvas). It's really ackward because I have one hell of a blind spot when I'm holding that thing. Oh and paint. I have to cover it in some sort of a painting by next week.

Along with another assignment.

And an essay on friday.

And kill me now.

On the VERY VERY VERY plus side, we got an extension for our drawing project *does a happy dance in her head*.

....

oh fuck the sex... I just need a good cuddle and a kiss on the forehead.


Damn.

Of sex and how I need it.

oh god I can't sleep. This always happens before 8:30 classes.

What's on my mind? sex. okay, for the record, I have issues that will not be discussed right now with sex in terms of intercourse, so for the purpose of this post let's just assume that when I say sex I mean anything but intercourse involving another person and resulting in orgasm.

I suppose I should put a disclaimer in here... Anyone who doesn't want to read about my libido stop reading about a paragraph ago. There. You've been warned.

So yeah... I'm horny and in definate need of a good makeout session with someone I trust and am comfortable around AND who has no messy emotional strings attached. No, this isnt an open invitation, so I will castrate the first person who offers. I'm just venting so that I can sleep.

The problem is, whenever I get into one of these situations I usually rush in and once it gets beyond the just kissing phase I freak out and bail. But I'm too impatient for the dating/getting to know someone phase (That and there isn't exactly a line up of people waiting to date me at the moment....).

My point is, my libido is out of control. Everywhere I look I see good-looking people. Why are there so many hot people in Montreal? Where did they all come from? How do I meet one of them?

Well now that I've completly embarassed myself on the internet (don't worry, all the cool kids are doing it!), I'm going to go to bed and hope I come to my senses in the morning and remove this post.

Quick Link

Married to the Sea is often funny, like this!

I thought it was especially appropriate considering part of my previous post.

Of educational angst

The wonderful thing about school is that it has taught me one of the most important life lessons I've learnt to date; I don't know jack shit. The more I learn, the more I realise how truly ignorant I was, am and probably always will be. I'd like to say that that's why I think everyone should seek higher education. In reality there are many who seem to get the opposite impression with their university degrees while others figure this out on their own without the help of expensive schooling. In the end, I'll settle with saying that I appreceate university for that reason.

There is no conversation I get into now without realising how completly clueless I am on the whole topic. In any feild really. One of my profs has been lecturing on Post-colonialism lately, concentrating on first-nation issues last class. I'd never really understood the land conflict between first nation tribes and the governement, and I still don't. I'd always assumed it had to do with making right the inumberable historical wrongs our ancesters did to theirs. This has always made me uncomfortable because, well, lets face it, I'm pretty much a direct descendent of the french settlers who fucked the aboriginals over. To add insult to injury, I've always taken a certain amount of pride in my ancestry. All this to say, I never understood the first nation problem and usually dismissed it out of hand because of how uncomfortable it made me. I'd like to say that I realise now that that's wrong but to be honnest I'm not sure what it is that I realise now. This all comes back to the fact that I really just don't know anything on the subject. And quite frankly, this bothers me. I WANT to understand. Not just on this issue but many others. I WANT to know why my planet is going to shit, I WANT to know why people are dying everyday in wars that seem neverending, I WANT to know ... fuck. I don't know anymore. I just want to stop being the one sitting on the side of conversations wondering.... where did they learn all that? are they right? What's the other side of the issue?

Aaaaaaanyways... that's quite enough of that.

I have a scrabble date.

PS-I've fallen in love. His name is Sebastien and he has black hair and white whiskers. He is, right now, very stinky.

Princess and the Pea.

Do any of you remember that story? It's of this princess who sleeps on a bed and complains that the matress is lumpy. Someone stashed a pea under it so she can feel it. Anyways, she whines about it and her servants or something bring her matresses until the stack is like a hundred matresses tall and she can STILL feel the damn pea. Now I can't remember how the story ends, or who put the pea there or what the moral of the story was BUT I do remember how much my parents used to tease me about it. Whenever I would complain about something my parents would call me the princess and the pea. Now I can't remember if this was justified (I prefer to believe it wasn't) but I DO remember how much it bothered me. It usually made me complain more about how I was NOT the princess, it was just too HOT with these pyjamas on. Actually, I have no idea what a 6 year old me would complain about (other than a 4 year old brother).

Now that I think about it, that might have been a Robert Munch story.. I used to love him.

Anyways, I was just sitting here thinking: my feet are cold. My hands are dry and peeling. I don't want to sleep. I have to get up in 6 hours.

When really I should be thinking: I had such a nice day. I got to dance in my kitchen. This bed is awesome. This laptop is awesome. I have drawing class tomorrow. I LIKE drawing class. I live in montreal and it's fantastic.

See it? Who the fuck cares about the damn pea when you have a hundred god damn matresses.

I'm glad we had this chat.

2007 (aka 2006 plus one)

So here it is, what you've all be anxiously waiting for, my first post of year 2007.

I considered doing one of those year 2006 in review survey things and decided against it. Not on any moral grounds mind you, just on the grounds of not wanting it to be depressing as all hell. I had a good year but because I'm in a bit of a funk at the moment that would not be reflected.

I went to a new years party, more fun than most have been in the past. It's odd to see everyone coupled off though, like everyone was just waiting to hit university to become functional young adults with functional young adult relationships. Meanwhile, I could not form a functional relationship to save my life. I'll admit, being single amidst a sea of couples is not good for Emily's self esteem, especially not now. I'll also admit (and this is far more embarrassing so let's all keep in on the down low) that I usually have more fun at large parties when I have someone to flirt with or at the very least someone I could have a decent conversation with that could lead to ... well... anything other than sitting off on my own somewhere, really. All this gross mumbo-jombo having been said, I DID have fun last night and the following morning. but damn do I ever sound like a flighty bimbo...

While part of my current funk is due to last night's couple-fest-2006, it is MOSTLY due to the fact that my christmas vacation ends tomorrow morning. I'm not ready to go back to montreal, at all. I could use another week. Asides from having little concrete time to relax, I feel as though there are too many loose ends here. I can't help be feel as though I'd be more comfortable with leaving if I saw people like Alex, Lily, Ben and Emma one last time. I had two messy emotional talks planned in my head and neither of them happened which leaves me feeling like a wimp and a failure and I really wish I could have figured out a way for that to be resolved before I left again.

I'd like to say that last night I came to the realisation that maybe the best way to move on is to admit that there is nothing I can do anymore and it's just going to keep sucking until it stops. I'd like to say I figured that out last night because then that would mean that I can turn over a new leaf in this never ending freakin' melodrama. But the truth of the matter is that realised that a while ago and it just never really sinks in. I just keep having the same old epiphanies over and over again. Anyways, I guess I thought this break would bring some sort of closure or something, and while it did in a way, something is still lacking.

Heh... Tyler brought up the fact that I don't seem to hint at what I'm talking about on this blog thinger. While I agreed with her at the time, I can think of plenty of times where I just left things hanging... meh... Don't know where I was going with that.

In their 2006 recap surveys, both Rhonda and Viki said that my "behaviour merited celebration". To read that not once, but twice, struck me as funny that that was their perception of my behaviour in the past year. MY perception (and again, maybe I shouldnt be addressing this in my current mindframe) is that I constantly shot myself in the foot with work, relationships.... not so much school.... regardless of how I dealt with whatever situation I was in, they were all my own creation...

This is the part where I re-read my last paragraph and remind myself and you that I got no more than 3 hours of interrupted sleep on a couch last night, so I take no responsibility about how little that made sense.

I think I might take my leave of y'all now.

But seriously? 2006 was probably one of the most important years of my life. Let's have another, shall we?