Saturday, 31 December 2011

New Years Resoultions, Or, I Am Yet Again Lying to Myself

New Years is always an interesting time for me. I know I am not alone in that I reflect on everything that has happened to me or that I have done over the past year. I don't generally like this though because when I get reflective, I end up crying. To me New Years is just an excuse to party and celebrate the fact that you are going to be dealing with the same shit as the year before. It all just carries over and there is nothing you can do about it. It would be wonderful if you could just wipe the slate clean and start fresh, but more often than not, life doesn't work like that. You still have the same broken heart/loans/job/life/whatever problems that you did the year before. The only difference is that the numbers at the end of 2011 changed to 2012.

I don't do New Years Resolutions. I quite personally think they are stupid. It's like lying to yourself for 365 days, until you make the same or new resolutions and start the vicious cycle of failure all over again. I just think they are an exercise in futility. People always promise themselves or other people that they are going to do something or really change, and it always ends in disappointment. Sure you could promise yourself that you are going to go to the gym at least 3 times a week, but at the end of the day, you don't. Life gets in the way, and those 10 lbs that you wanted to lose end up sticking around, forcing you to go buy new clothes. Or you could resolve to be a nicer, better person. I've done this one countless times, and each and every year, I look back and decide that I failed because I am still the same sarcastic asshole I was the year before. The only change I have made is to become more cynical than I was the year before. I think what all comes down to is change. People don't like change. I don't like change. It throws my nice controlled world upside down. I think that's why New Years resolutions always fail. It's because people are unwilling to change. Sure it sounds like a great idea, being a nicer, thinner, smarter, whatever person, but at the end of the day, people lack the motivation and are too afraid of changing to really do anything about it. I myself am guilty of this. It really takes a lot for me to sit back and think about changing, and even then, I resist it at ever turn. That's why New Years resolutions are dumb. They set people up for failure, and just make people feel bad about themselves. That's why I say screw it, and carry on as I always have, being the same sort of cynical, slightly sarcastic, outspoken person I have been since 1985 (or at least until I started talking).

However, if I was forced at gunpoint, or by a ninja with nunchucks, to make some kind of resolution, or promise to myself that I will inevitably end up breaking, it would be to say no. I will/would try to say no to more people, and do things for myself, rather than worrying that I am going to disappoint people. I won't be so quick to make promises that end up with me being exhausted because there aren't enough hours in the day to get done everything I have set out to do. I am going to take more time for me and say screw it to everyone else. At the end of the day, I am all I have. It may sound selfish, but I am sure that anyone else out there who tries to be everything for everyone, you understand. I am an 'all or nothing' kind of girl. There is no in between. I give 100% of myself, or none. So I am going to start giving less of myself to other people and more of myself to me. It's the best I can do in terms of a 'resolution'.

Now that the melancholy has passed here are some of my favourite things/moments of 2011:

Best Albums:
1. Seeds by Hey Rosetta!
2. Oh Fortune by Dan Mangan
3.Mylo Xyloto by Coldplay
4. Paris or India by The Midway State
5.Moonfire by Boy & Bear

Best Books:
1) The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
2) Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang by Chelsea Handler
3) Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (and Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling

Top Moments for Me:
1) Being told I was cancer free
2) Writing the LSAT and trying to figure out my, albeit uncertain, future
3) Getting published not only in an academic journal, but also for work
4) One moment on Maui, watching the sunset and the turtles, with someone very special
5) Sunset over LA from the Getty Museum after walking through a 17th century Paris exhibit

I don't know what 2012 holds for me or for anyone really. The best I can do is remain cautiously optimistic (which is quite a change from cynical realism). Despite the fact that I have mixed feelings about New Years, I wish everyone an incredibly memorable and awesome New Years. I also really hope that the world doesn't end. That would totally suck.

Happy New Years friends!


Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Muesday: Do Not Feed the Wildlife

I sit here writing this looking out the front windows of the cabin, at the frozen lake and the mountains that shadow it. I am in Jasper! I haven't been in a very long time and I had forgotten how truly beautiful and magnificent the Rocky Mountains are. It's a nice little getaway, albeit, a short one. This is the scene I hope to set for you all as I explain why staying at the Fairmont Jasper Park Lodge is actually like camping for me.

I have never been camping before. The closest I have ever come to camping was this one time when I was like 11 when we stayed in a condo in Panorama and we had to cook for ourselves. I have never had the, ahem, pleasure(?) of sleeping in a tent, or bathing in some kind of lake. I do own a sleeping bag, but mostly for necessity when I was younger and attended slumber parties of sorts. Mostly I keep it around for when I venture out to a friends cabin, or for when the Zombie apocalypse hits and because I think that when this happens that I will need it. Now, because I have no life skills, and also because I am allergic to life, staying at the Jasper Park Lodge and pretending that it is the same thing as camping works just fine for me. I can be outside and enjoy the beauty of one of Canada's most beautiful national parks, and at the same time, have someone bring me a nice steaming latte while I listen to a pianist play "Don't Cry for Me Argentina" on the baby grand piano in the lobby while I sit in front of the fire and read (I just finished "The Night Circus" by Erin Morgenstern, and holy crap, everyone needs to go out and buy and read it! It's amazing! I haven't come across a book that good in a really long time!). In my personal opinion it's a win-win situation. But I will admit, that sometimes I wonder what I am missing. I remember when my friends would go camping with their families when we were younger, and how much fun they would have and all the stories they would tell when they got back. Sometimes I have delusions of grandeur and I think "hey, I think I am going to try this whole camping thing out, one time at least". Then I start thinking about how leaving my house in the morning usually results in some kind of allergy attack, and then I think about how things in nature give me hives, and also about how I have no sense of direction, or life skills, meaning that I have no business being in the wilderness and that I would probably set fire to it due to the fact that I wouldn't know how to work a camp stove. No joke. Picture it: me, covered in red welts, sneezing like a mad person, trying to get a fire started in some remote corner of god only knows because I am horribly lost, and then I would probably set fire to some pristine environment, and the only way I would be saved would be because a helicopter mistook a raging brush fire for smoke signals. I think I am doomed/blessed to live the life of a city girl. Doomed because I will never know the potential joy of camping. By blessed I mean that mother nature would be blessed because she wouldn't have to worry about me being unleashed upon unsuspecting flora and fauna populations.

I know for a fact that if none of the above happened, I would probably cause nature harm by feeding the wildlife. They take that shit seriously in a national park. Apparently it's "unlawful". Whatever that means. Go figure.

Because I am feeling particularly patriotic at the moment (which never happens, and by patriotic, I mean because I am in a Canadian national park) I am going to continue to share Canadian music. Today I give to you "A Little Bit of Red" by Serena Ryder, who is from Toronto. I really dig her sound. She has that raspy, rocker sound that reminds me of music from a time when auto-tune didn't exist (I seriously think it's the bane of the music world). So, enjoy "A Little Bit of Red", from her album Is It O.K.

This is the last Muesday of 2011. Maybe 2012 will feature something new. Who knows. Until then...


Saturday, 24 December 2011

Let it Snow Baby, Let it Reindeer

Merry Christmas everyone! I think I will keep this brief, or as brief as humanly possible for me. We all know I have a problem being concise. I just wanted to say Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Hanukkah/Merry Kwanza, or simply Merry Whatever Doesn't Offend You. I hope everyone enjoys Christmas and everything that comes with it. The food, family (which can also make people crazy), the gifts, the love and the joy. So from me to you, Merry Holidays.

Love Always,

Thursday, 22 December 2011

The Big C Part VII: Bigger Scars Make for Better Stories

I long for the days when I didn't spend substantial amounts of time in hospitals. Those days were awesome. I got to spend time at the hospital again today. Because you know, all I wanted for Christmas was for my surgeon to cut into my back with a scalpel. Gee thanks Santa! How did you know that I needed that syringe full of local anesthetic?! You shouldn't have!? I don't know what's shittier, the fact that I was up at an ungodly hour to go to the hospital, the fact that I am used to being cut into, or the fact that I am being cut into 3 days before Christmas. Pretty sure that the shitastic combination of the three makes for a whole boatload of holiday cheer, and by holiday cheer I mean, puts me in a right foul mood. On the plus side, I did get to yell at people, and that always cheers me up. Nothing drives me crazier than bitchy nurses who are condescending and patronizing. I'm sorry, I know I may look like a child, but I'm not. Don't tell me that I need to calm down because I am upset. I wasn't upset until you decided to be a giant bitch...with bad hair and really hideous Christmas sweater. You can take your ward and shove it lady. I hope me being an asshole today doesn't put me on any kind of metaphorical or literal naughty list. The one thing I know I can count on though, that no matter how much of an asshole I can be, cancer will always be a bigger one. Bigger scars make for better stories...


Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Muesday: Being a Little Adult has Ruined Me

So, where did December go? I mean really? I am starting to think that my mother is right. When I was 20 she gave me a piece of advice. First she said you're halfway to 40 and then she said after 25 you slowly start to die. Jems, I know. Also, hilarious, especially if you know my mother. I have been 26 for 72 hours, and I think senility has started to set in. I mean, I don't have any recollection of where the time has gone. One minute I am having a complete and utter meltdown over the entire month of September, and the next thing I know it's freaking Christmas?! What. The. Hell. It's like I'm that chick from the song "Baby It's Cold Outside". One minute I am in complete control of my life, and the next thing you know I have no recollection of how I got here, the only exception is that I still have all of my major internal organs. You mean to tell me that I have been so wrapped up in all the things I do that I completely missed the past 2 and half months of my life? I don't like this, not one freaking bit. It only now occurs to me that Christmas is in, oh I don't know, 5 days. I haven't even wrapped presents yet, and I am not entirely sure if I have actually finished my Christmas shopping or not (you'd think it would be easy to figure out...not the case)! No, I have been too busy with papers and finals, and stress, and law school applications, that I seem to have completely missed my favourtie time of the year! This is truly sad. It also sounds a lot like whining, but whatever. 'Tis the season? Right? All I can say is that I am glad that I finally get a break. Maybe now I can actually sit back and enjoy the magic of Christmas, and do what I have been wanting to do all along: watch all those Christmas specials from when I was a kid.

Those Christmas specials will always have a special place in my heart, but I realized something, that kind of crushed my inner six year old. They aren't as good as I thought they were, and there are some pretty serious inconsistencies in several of the plot lines. Not necessarily something you worry about as a small child, but as a small adult, I can assure you that I noticed, and let me tell you, it saddens me. Mostly because I now realize how incredibly gullible I was a child, but also because I see those productions as a disservice to children everywhere! Case in point: instead of studying the Convention of Westminster in 1756 (basically England and Prussia screwed everyone over, and France and Austria became besties, and Russia was like "what the hell, why aren't I included in this mad party, and by mad party I mean convention?!" and then they all went to war for 7 years), I decided to watch A Flintstones Christmas, a classic in my opinion. But I noticed something. First of all, Santa would a) have to be like a bajillion years old, and b) I highly doubt neanderthals had the mental capacity to fully comprehend the notion of a jolly fat man in a red suit. Also, just going to throw this out there, but if you look at the cartoon, instead of being dressed like Fred, and Barney, and Wilma and Betty in what I can only assume are types of animal skins, Santa's suit is modern, like the kind you would see on a mall Santa, although probably with less sweat stains. I feel kind of robbed. What happened to consistency? Perhaps I am just a little too picky. It's entirely possible. But all I know is that adulthood has ruined it for me. This makes me sad.

Also, because it's Christmas, this muesday will be Christmas themed. I know this is everyone's favourite (and yes, that is sarcasm). I know a lot of people who have issues with Christmas music, which is one of the reasons as to why I haven't shared any Christmas music on my blog yet. But, seeing as how Christmas crept up on me, I figured what the hell. Not only am I going to share Christmas music with you, but I am going to share one of my all time FAVOURITE Christmas songs with you, from one of my all time FAVOURITE Christmas albums. Wait for it, wait for it...Hanson's Merry Christmas Baby, from (what is my favourite Christmas album of all time in the history of ever) Snowed In. Ya, I went there. Deal with it. Seriously. I remember being like 12 and getting this album for my birthday from my bestie and actually dying a little from happiness. No joke. I was that kid who loved Hanson. And I am not ashamed to admit that I still do. Best. Album. Ever. I welcome your judgment. You're just jealous of my awesome arsenal of music. Maybe.

Merry almost Christmas everyone!


Sunday, 18 December 2011

The Extension of My Existential Crisis: It's My Birthday

This is me 26 years ago. Despite popular opinion, I wasn't adopted, nor am I actually Asian. Although, come to think of it, this picture doesn't really help my case...Also, I was kind of adorable. Just saying...

So, today is my birthday. I am 26. That's fun...sort of. I don't really know how I feel about this. All I know, is that there better be cake...or at least a cupcake with pink icing.


Friday, 16 December 2011

My Continued War On Technology: Damn You Auto-Correct

I have awesome friends, and by awesome I mean sometimes I picture myself doing violence with golf clubs to them. Before I get to my explanation of why I sometimes picture myself doing this, let me tell you all a little story. It goes something like this:

We all know that I have issues with technology. I am not a fan seeing as how most of the time I have no idea how anything works, or why it does what it does. I use Apple products because they are basically idiot proof. This is why I was so stoked to change from my Blackberry to an iPhone, as it just does everything for me. Now, there are certain parts about technology that I do like, or at least have a love-hate relationship with. One of them just so happens to be auto-correct. I love auto-correct because it spells things right when I am texting way too quickly and missing letters, but I hate it when it corrects words that I know for an absolute fact to be right, and to actually exist, example, sumptuary. It's a word. I start to hate it when it does things that I don't want it to. Case in point: recently, the auto-correct on my phone started changing "love" to "fuck". Interesting, I know. I don't even know how this would happen, considering neither words contains similar letters, nor are the letters on the keyboard anywhere near each other. I mean, I do tend to swear...a lot, so it did cross my mind that perhaps I had sworn one too many times. It is an auto-correct nightmare. I didn't even realize that it was happening until I went to text my dad (yes, I text my dad) "I love you" and it changed to "I fuck you". That would have been an interesting one to explain. It was driving me crazy! I had no idea why or how it happened, and it got to the point where I actually considered throwing my phone against my office wall. Then I realized that I could just call the Apple Store and they could tell me how to fix it. So here I was, sitting at my disaster of a desk at work, talking to the guy at Apple:

Me: Hi, I have a question about auto-correct on iPhone, would you be able to help me?

Guy: You bet. What's the issue?

Me: My auto-correct changes "love" to "fuck"

Guy: ... (silence. I could actually picture crickets chirping)

Me: Hello?

Guy: Um, I'm still here. Why is it doing that?

Me: I don't know, that's why I'm calling you.

Guy: Well sometimes when letters are similar auto-correct changes the words

(I am not simple, I had already figured that one out. Thanks Einstein)

Me: Ya, I know, but what I don't understand is why it would start doing this. The letters aren't similar at all. Also, I do swear a lot, but not so much to make my auto-correct think I mean "fuck" when I say love.

Guy: Um, well, have you created any keyboard shortcuts?

Me: I don't know what that is, so probably not.

He then proceeded to walk me through getting to the keyboard shortcuts, step by step, while I assured him that I hadn't set any such short cuts. You can imagine my surprise when I saw that I did in fact have a shortcut that changed "love" to "fuck", making me look like a giant asshole for not knowing that I had one. The guy was really polite, and really nice, and seemed really uncomfortable by the conversation, which I of course thought was awesome. So to make an already long story less long, I managed to fix it. But then I started pondering why and how it changed and then I had an epiphany.

Flash back to last Saturday. Remember that Christmas party I went too? Most of my favourite people were there, and a good time was had by all. I remembered sitting at the table beside my good friend Jeff, and he wanted to see the games on my phone. Like an idiot, I punched in the password to unlock the keyboard and let him see. I then got up and left the table, for what was probably 2 seconds, and came back to find my phone sitting nicely on the table. I thought nothing of it until today. He changed it. Jeff was the one who made that shortcut and made me feel like an idiot all week. It's a good thing he's my friend, or I would have actually hit him with a golf club. It's also a good thing that I find it mostly amusing to actually be mad about this, and really, it's my fault for leaving him with my phone without adult supervision.

So kids, the moral(s) of the story:

1) Don't leave your phone unattended with a group of people who think changing things around is a genius idea.

2) Make sure you don't have a keyboard shortcut before you make an ass of yourself to the Apple people.

3) Always double check your text messages before sending them.


Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Muesday: Basically It's a Song About Getting Roofied

Now, as anyone who doesn't live under a rock knows, or unless you don't celebrate Christmas for various reasons, but then really, you would at least have a working knowledge about what Christmas entails, and you should thus know that it's Christmas time. What this means is that I have been listening to Christmas music non-stop since, oh I don't know, November 1. I love Christmas and basically everything about it, minus the hoards of unwashed masses doing their shopping, and general stupidity, which I really think afflicts humanity year round, and basically makes me allergic to people. Anyway, I was listening to the classic "Baby It's Cold Outside" (the original, not that musical monstrosity sang by Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey), and I came to the conclusion that basically it's a song about getting roofied. No joke. Think about it. She's all like "No I can't stay otherwise people will think I'm a giant whore", and he's like "No you should totally stay because it's cold and that means that we can cuddle etc, and also because I have ulterior motives...let me get you a drink", to which she responds "I really shouldn't. It's a bad life choice...but I think you have a point and I have no will power whatsoever and the ability to say no escapes me right now". So he's all excited and whatnot and pours her a drink to which she's like "hey what's in this?!", and then, he's taking her coat and scarf, and the next thing you know, in all likelihood, she wakes up in a bathtub full of ice missing 3/4 of her liver and a kidney, while he makes away with a cooler full of organ goodies to sell on the Russian/Chinese black market. It's just a creepy creepy song. Either that, or my twisted little mind has taken a Christmas classic/favourite and made it inappropriate, which is entirely possible...

Enough of my rambling about bad life choices, and on to legit Muesday!

Sometimes I wish I lived somewhere else. Sometimes all I can think about is getting away from this place and never looking back. And then I see things that remind me that there are some truly beautiful and wonderful aspects of where I live. As much as I complain about being from Alberta, and about Edmonton, and how it's basically Dante's forgotten frozen circle of hell, I think I forget about how lovely Alberta really can be. I was at a Christmas party this past weekend, that was thrown by a good friend of mine. She showed me the following video, and not only is it gorgeous, but it also features an Albertan artist, and makes me appreciate where I live a little more. Not everyone can drive to the mountains on a whim. Like I said, I only just discovered the following artist this past weekend, which is quite the shame because he is amazing, and I have my friend to thank for that (Thanks Nina!). I have actually been listening to him on repeat since Sunday. W.i.L., is an artist from Calgary, and I am so excited to now have a new Canadian artist to love! I really hope you all enjoy Roam by W.i.L., and that you are just a little jealous that I get to live in such a beautiful place.


Monday, 12 December 2011

Don't Think of It as Yelling, Think of It as Really Loud, Loving Correction

I feel really bad for anyone who had to be around me today. Sorry that I was possibly probably a little overly hostile, and most likely an asshole. Don't think of it as yelling, think of it as really loud, loving correction...or yelling...whatever works for you...

Sunday, 11 December 2011

Oh, I'm Sorry, I Didn't Realize We Were Working Out With Snookie...

I feel like this is why THOSE girls come to the gym...

You know what really bothers me? Those girls who go to the gym, dressed like they're going out to the bar...

Sunday nights I have soccer practice, at an indoor field, that has a track above the fields where people can run, walk and generally try to keep in shape. Now normally, when one goes to the gym, it's to legitimately work out. You get sweaty and gross, but you know that going in. You know that actually putting some effort in will make you sweat. But then you get THOSE girls. The ones who show up, with their itty bitty spandex shorts, that basically look like underwear, and their hair in that stupid Snookie poof, with layers upon layers of makeup on, and ginormous hoop earrings, who run around the track, at what actually looks like walking speed. Heaven forbid they actually work up a sweat. Really, who do you think you are? Here I am, on the soccer field, running my ass off, doing something good for myself, and the last time I checked, I wasn't doing it to get hit on. Seriously, half the time I look like a real dream come true, and by dream come true, I mean hot mess. I don't go with the hopes that some juice monkey will maybe try to impress me with his hulking, steroid muscles, and that he will try to dazzle me with what I can only imagine would qualify as witty repartee. No. I go because I like soccer and I could honestly give two shits about what I look like. But those girls drive me crazy. Why bother? Why bother coming and working out if you are going to put zero effort into your workout? They put more effort into the way they look before the work out than they do the actual workout which if you think about it, would actually make them look good. It's a vicious cycle that I just don't understand. One of my favourite things to do with my friends on my team is to make fun of those girls, because guess what, they look like slutty assholes. I mean they might as well be working out in high heels instead of running shoes. I'm sorry, I was completely unaware that the cast of the Jersey Shore was working out with us today...

I continue to lose faith in humanity


Thursday, 8 December 2011

I'm Finished, and I Want Cake

Guess who can now taste sweet sweet freedom?! Oh wait, that would be me. As of 2 am today (which is right this very moment) I finished my last paper of the semester. It's giant, and I am pretty sure that I over-thought the whole thing, but whatever. It's done. This is probably what it's really like:

Which probably doesn't bode well, but whatever. I am delirious from lack of sleep and all I want is cake...and a pony...and to watch The Big Bang Theory. And to sleep. That's kind of important too. But mostly I want cake. I'm blaming Jeff for sending me that picture. I am also blaming my sister for not only getting Justin Bieber's Baby stuck in my head, but for also getting Michael Jackson's Man in the Mirror stuck in my head as well. You try writing a paper with the current prince of pop, and the former, now deceased prince of pop's music stuck in your head like some horrible, twisted Glee mashup. No joke. If I mistakenly wrote out song lyrics instead of something kind of scholarly and intelligible it's her fault...I need to stop talking.


Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Muesday: N/A OK, Or the Pathetic Ramblings of an Unhinged Mind...or a Genius. The Jury is Still Out.

I preemptively apologize for what follows. I am exhausted and I have one paper left to finish, which was supposed to be due today, but because it's some kind of religious festival we got an extension. Thank you baby Jesus! But, what this means is that instead of being able to sit back and relax until my finals, I get to stress for at least two more days. Maybe it's my type-A perfectionist, obsessive compulsive personality, but I think I may be over-thinking everything. Maybe.

Anyway, today was the last day of classes for the semester. It's glorious and not at the exact same time. Mostly because of that paper I have left, and I also feel bad because this post is kind of late in the day/evening. I have a really bad guilty conscience. Instead of coming straight home after class, I went out to celebrate with two wonderful ladies. It was great, except now I have this intense feeling of guilt. Not that I didn't enjoy myself, because I did, but because I have so much left to do and not enough time to do it. On the plus side, I now have a pretty kick ass paper title. And I have now realized exactly how narrow of focus I have in my study of history.

Also, I am adding to 'Leah's List of Grievences':

5. When you have that one jackass in the class who feels the need to raise his hand every single freaking second and challenge the prof: Okay. I am all for asking questions, as long as they are good questions. I always maintain that there are such things as stupid questions and they are usually always asked by stupid people. I was taking (it's done as of 330pm this afternoon) a history class that was all about the Transformation of the European State System 1740-1815, and there was this guy in the class who raised his hand and challenged the prof on everything. And half the time it was just to hear the sound of his own voice. I'm sorry. I paid upwards of $700 for this class, and you mean to tell me that I have to sit here and listen to how you took one, ONE intro level history course, which of course now makes you an expert over the man who is standing up in front of the class who is one of the WORLDS most preeminent Austrian and Habsburg historians? Really? You really want to go there? You really want to argue with him over the actual reason for 500, 000 men losing their lives during Napoleon's invasion of Russia being disease rather than wounded in battle? Can't we just say a lot of people effing died?! WHY THE HELL DOES IT MATTER HOW!!! It's not going to be on the final! I can only remember one other time when a classmate made me imagine doing them bodily harm. I called her 'Purple Coat', mostly because she always, without fail, wore this hideous purple coat, and would never show up to class. She had the audacity to show up one day, the day that she was supposed to present, and then tell everyone that she didn't read her document, and then tell me I was clearly wrong in my interpretation of the document. What followed was an intense verbal battle, that devolved into petty name calling (on her part) and me wanting to launch myself across the table to punch her in the mouth. If it hadn't been for the prof settling things down, I might have actually done it. I just can't stand stupid, ignorant people!

I think it's fairly obvious that I don't suffer fools very well.

Today I am bringing a current favourite of mine. It's called N/A OK by USS (Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker). They are a great little duo out of Toronto and their music always has a really great beat to it. I would write more, but my thoughts are currently filled with a) how angry the annoying guy makes me, b) how ridiculous medieval legislators were (seriously, they legislated against the price of chicken), and c) medieval prostitutes and how I still have to finish my paper (yay for prescriptive dress!). Anyway, enjoy!


Saturday, 3 December 2011

Obviously, It's Because I'm a Masochist

It's sad because it's so true...

So, I wrote the LSAT (again) today. And you know what, I wasn't the only person I know who was writing it for the second time. It was nice to know, and slightly more comforting. What's not so nice to know, is the fact that after said mental gauntlet was run this morning, I now get to come home and work on my very last paper for the semester. Oh joy. I would so much rather be doing something else this evening, which I am sure is evident based on the simple fact that I am sitting here typing this while staring at that my bookshelf full of books, and at my desk which is a veritable disaster of papers and articles. It's so bad that I got a papercut...on my elbow. Don't ask me how that happened. It just did. But to my point, I don't want to write it. I want it to write itself. I somehow don't think that's going to happen. Oh well. Anyway, after the LSAT I decided to just have some me time, so I went to the mall, amidst the Christmas shopping hoards, and had the following conversation:

Let me set the scene. It's Christmas time, at the mall, and there are scads of the unwashed masses everywhere, being idiots. Parking is an absolute disaster, and there are assholes who feel the need to take up 2.5 stalls for their giant "I am compensating for body parts that seem to be lacking" trucks. I go into Fossil, and am looking around at the pretty bags (I want the matching one to my wallet), and the next thing I know, this guy, who looks like he's a baby taps me on the shoulder..

Guy: Hey, don't I know you?

Me: Nope. Sorry.

Guy: No, I'm pretty sure I know you. Weren't you like, in my Physics 30 class?

Me: Again, pretty sure you have the wrong person.

Guy: You look so familiar though! I could swear it was you! I'd remember a face like yours.

At this point, it was really hard for not to burst out laughing. It was hilarious. And it doesn't stop there. Oh no...

Me: I honestly think you have the wrong person.

Guy: Maybe I met you at party then. Did you go to O'Leary?

Me: No.

Guy: Well then what school do you go to? You must be a grade younger than me then.

He said this with a such a smug look on his face, like I was some poor underclassman who should be honoured that he would deign to speak with me.

Me: I've graduated already

Guy: From where?

Me: From University. I have a degree and I am working towards my second one, so I can say with utmost certainty that you most definitely don't remember me from school, or some high school party

Guy: Oh, sorry (he looked really embarrassed and it was awesome). Why would you want a second degree? School is like, so lame!?

Me: Obviously it's because I'm a masochist...

At this point he looked really confused. The poor dear probably had no idea what masochist means. So he awkwardly took his leave, and I proceeded to laugh. A lot.

Just because I look like I could be 17, I'm not, as flattering as that is. Next time you try to hit on someone, you might want to try to double check that. But at the end of the day, I want to thank this young man (who again, looked like a baby) for making my day with what I can only describe as a valiant attempt to try and pick me up (not literally though, I would have kicked him in the scrotum if he tried to do that). It was hilarious.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend folks! Also, don't forget to follow me on the twitter @LopsidedLeah...basically, it's like talking to me in person, only I don't actually have to see you! I think that's pretty much a win-win for everyone.


Thursday, 1 December 2011

Procrastination is a B*tch

You know how you can tell when my life is falling apart/I am having a mental breakdown? You can tell by the frequency of my blog posts. The more frequent, the more likely it is that I am about to become a tiny, angry, raving lunatic, or at least more of a tiny, angry, raving lunatic.

It's that time of year again. The only time of the year when I become an unwashed, stressed out, over caffeinated, under slept mess (actually I am most of those things all the time, but I am almost always clean...mostly). Also known as the end of the semester. For some strange reason I have been super unmotivated. All I really want to do is lay in my giant ruffle bed, and watch bad television, or my favourite movies, blog and tweet. Sidenote, I am blaming the Alberta Cancer Foundation for my new found love of twitter. Holy hell it's addicting. Now I know why people have twitter. It's like drugs, only better because you don't end up disfiguring yourself, or putting holes through your septum. Maybe Charlie Sheen should have gotten himself addicted to Twitter instead of hookers and blow #badlifechoice. Just saying.

Also this is the time of year when I have this incredible urge to clean everything I own. Why is it that people have the uncanny ability to clean instead of doing what they are supposed to be doing? Seriously. I normally live in varying degrees of organized chaos. On any given day it looks like my closet has vomited all of my clothes onto my bed, and the floor is strewn with shoes, and books and papers, and basically anything else you can think of. I only clean up my shit when it gets to the point that it bothers me. But the minute that I have a paper to do, or a giant test, like this Saturday's upcoming LSAT, all I want to do is clean. I want do laundry and iron, and dust and vacuum, activities that I don't normally do (mostly because we have this great housekeeper who come twice a month and does it all for me). 'Clean all the things' becomes my mantra, and the internet is my besty. I bet my mother wishes that this urge to clean was with me all the time because that way she could save money on a housekeeper and use her legal slave (that's why people have children, so they can get free housecleaning and entertainment, and all they have to say is "because I said so") aka Me, to clean instead. But here's the thing: procrastination is a bitch. I know this to be an absolute fact, and yet, I still do it. Every. Single. Freaking. Day.

I have honestly been putting everything off, much to my own detriment. I put off my papers and now I am exhausted. I have a pile of books for the LSAT that are just begging me to study them, but instead, I sit here at my kitchen table, writing this post. There are logic games that want to be played, and reading passages that want to be read. What the hell is wrong with me. It's like I expect the admissions committees to let me on the simple fact that I think I'm a genius, that I think I'm kind of awesome, and I can be kind of cute sometimes. Really Leah, do you honestly think that looking up at them with big doe eyes, like a sad puppy, is going to get you into law school? Ya, I didn't think so. And now I am having a conversation with myself, over my own blog. I think I have reached certifiable insanity.

I think I will end this here. Let's pretend this never happened. Mmkay thanks.