hidari

lovingly rearrange the thoughts that make you blue [someday I'll have the blues]

Tue, 24 Feb 2009 01:13:47 GMT

[mood]: ...dead on the inside, apathy on the outside - what is it?
[music]: Massive Attack
[msn]: Pirate: Little Johnny Bible Club

This blog entry will start off with a heavy sigh, followed by a high chance of ranting with temperatures ranging wildly from -273.15 to 100� C. After that it's hard to say what to expect. Maybe the tectonic plates will shift, or some shit like that.

It's been a while. I would love to say that we have a lot to catch up on, and it's going to be a great time gallavanting through my summer adventures and then through those that took place in Europe - but I'm not going to. Unfortunately, charming readers (and you'll forgive if I flatter you too much), you've caught me at a bad time, and this is going to be one of those writing-shit-for-the-sake-of-sorting-it-out entries. So you are forewarned. Leave now.

...

Here we are, six or seven weeks into the spring term. It's 2009 and I'm back at school. To put this into a scary sort of perspective, I've been learning since 1994.

Why did I put that into perspective? Because... I am beginning to feel like... I don't really want to learn any more. I think I want to quit school. I think I don't want to be an engineer.

While I've been over this about a thousand times in my head, and talked to people about it already, I also figured I'd share it with you, because you're special, and because this helps me sort my thoughts better. When I say sort I mean that currently they run rampant through my brain right before I go to sleep, which really only results in poor posture and a stress-related rash on my left arm. So onwards I plod like a fat toad in the mud.

Here are my reasons for wanting to quit, and I'm stating them plain and clear because I've already talked about them, and writing is so much easier than thinking... everything is concise and beautiful.

I feel like crap all the time. I don't care about what I'm doing in school, and therefore I'm not paying much attention to it. Only one of our classes is actually engaging - the others are taught by a) professor who doesn't remember what her own damn subscripts are, who has no idea how to answer your questions and who is trying to review grade 11 chemistry for us, while in some way making it more complex because she's seriously speaking Klingon b) professor who would rather talk about how energy efficient his Prius is than about what the fuck we are supposed to be learning in class - and he teaches two courses c) rambloid college professor who teaches surveying - the only reason I don't mind him is because his course is simple and clear and he knows that d) professor who is a huge douchebag to all of us ALL THE TIME, tells us we're stupid constantly and tells us that everything we've done in Engineering so far has been "playing" with Physics and Math. That's fucking fantastic, that is.

Further, I just don't want to do this. I was happy this summer because I was a surveyor. I was making decent enough money and I enjoyed going home and not having to do stupid bullshit assignments that a) are pointless busywork and b) often don't actually make any sense due to the fact that they are not fucking in fucking ENGLISH.

...deep breaths.

Analytically, I think I'm just damn bored. For most of the classes listed above, I don't want to do the work because the work is dumb. A computer can do it for you - more so than before. There aren't really any new concepts to even understand. Many of our assignments are "convert these units, then do some multiplication with this supplied formula" or "multiply these 8000000 numbers together, hope that you don't fuck it up before the end, and write down the answer".

POINTLESS. BUSYWORK. If I wanted pointless busywork I would get a job at fucking Starbucks, which I am almost tempted to DO.

The assignments that don't fall under "must be smart enough to push buttons on a calculator" are those in our structural course. These are difficult. I've even done a few of them - but the prof is the biggest asshole I've ever met in a professional setting, and I don't even like to attend his classes because all I do is get pissed off at him.

And aside from all that... I just really don't like it. I don't enjoy it. I don't find it interesting any more. There is nothing new and exciting... it's just the same shite over and over again.

...I may have lied about writing coming out more beautifully and concisely than my blubbering spoken words. What follows are the reason's I don't want to quit... because I really don't, but I really... do...

1. I don't know what to do otherwise. I have a thousand other things that I want to do, but... they are mostly dreams, or mostly... ventures. They require risk and they require money and... they require nerve and luck.

2. Everything I've done so far has been a waste of time and money. Two years of effort for nothing, since half an engineering degree is exactly that - it's not even something I can put on a resume. I went to university for a while, but I'm a loser and I quit. I think that falls under the category of "some college" when you fill out applications for shitty jobs.

3. I just don't want to. I would love to be an engineer, I really would. I want the degree. I want that ring on my finger. I want to be able to say that I went through hell to get it, but... I fucking hate hell, right now.

4. I hate quitting, and I'm usually made of stronger shit than that. Right now, however, it seems kind of runny.

5. My friends. Dropping out of Engineering is like running from the draft when all your friends go to war. We've been here two years, we've done some amazing shit, we've done some not so amazing shit, and I really don't wanna be that girl working at Walmart in a few years when everyone else finishes their degree. I also don't want to live in a house where I can't... relate. If I quit, I lose that comraderie, I lose that connection... I lose my friends. And I don't say that in a way that's epic or deep or... believable. I wouldn't lose my friends. I know you guys aren't as shallow as that. But... I'd sever a link. I'd burn a bridge. And I sort of like that bridge.

... against those, there are a few arguments, and... I know it looks like I'm convincing myself to stay, but... I really don't think I am.

I am going to make dinner with Denise. I'll keep you updated throughout the week. Waiting for a phonecall from my parents, still.

...I need help. I really, really, really do. Msning to some pals from home... one of them told me he wished he hadn't dropped out of school, and I am afraid of making that mistake, but... I'm sort of also afraid that I've already made one.

And I really do apologise for the lame entry. I have drawn recently, and I have done fun things, and I do have photos and hilarious anecdotes and... fun things. But I need to clear my head first.

Peace. <3

/mads

I feel swell, so here is a dwarf-sized blog entry!

Sat, 09 Aug 2008 06:38:58 GMT

[mood]: swell?
[music]: Deeeeelerium!
[msn]: Pirate Cobbler

Because cobbler is an excellent word. Almost as good as thitherto. That's right. Thither.

Um. So, this is going to be a small-ish blog entry, and I pinky-swear I'll write a proper one, probably Sunday night, once I've finished editing. Which had better fucking be Sunday night because right now I feel like this dead horse has been reduced pretty much to liquid and I'm beating the sodden crimson path under its long-gone body.

That was gross. Anyway!

Why do I feel great? Well! I'm glad you asked. Or were forced to, as my semi-captive audience. Ha-HA!

A few days ago I posted the first 15 pages of my story online on one of my illustrious writing sites. Allpoetry. Yeah I know. Anyway, it's linked to storywrite.com, as they are essentially the same thing (actually they were, until they split, but anyway!). I also invented a "contest" for people to win points (the site assigns points which you then use to promote your writing, etc. Since I am never on the site I don't use them, but have a healthy store of them!) by critiquing my excerpt.

Why this excerpt? Wizards of the Coast accepts 30 pages or your first three chapters. My first three chapters happen to be about 30 pages, so voila! So I decided to see what people would say about it.

So far, two "entries" to my contest. One of them consists mostly of:

"realised should be spelled realized."

...I had a long rant to Curtis about why Americans don't realise (ha. ha. oh.) that people in different countries spell things differently. But maybe many Canadians don't really know that either. Anyway!

THE OTHER CRITIQUE is so far amazing! They wrote a short thing for the actual website, then messaged me and asked for my email address. Then they (actually I think it's a guy, so he!) sent me an email + .doc file with some VERY intense commentary. Very intense as in... those editing books I've been reading... this guy might have written them o.O' It's it PETRIFYING but AWESOME all at the same time (sugoi, in fact).

It's... amazing. I have never had anyone tear through my work like this. There are some things, of course, that just needed fresh eyes (example, I'm trying to take dumb adverbs like "slightly" out of my story, and missed one that he found -_-') but lots more of them... are... just awesome. It's weird. It's like... Your kung-fu is strong. *bow* Maybe indescribable. It would be like... if you've practised something to death until you thought you were the best you could be... and then someone just shuts you down, and it's not depressing in the slightest, it's just... awesome. I am filled with respect for this nameless editor-man!

Also, he's not a douche about any of it, which is highly cool :)

SO! I am in very high spirits, will probably head to a lake for a while tomorrow, after editing... sadly I have about 200 pages left, so it's going to be an early morning, a late night, and more reading on Sunday! Yeah. I'm cool. STFU.

Anyway... had to share that. Also, have decided to officially update my "story" to "manuscript" because I can be bitchy and pretentious like that. Still hasn't reached "book" in my mind, but it won't until it's on a shelf.

...this is the point where I think I can actually do this.

Maybe it's just a big ol' dream, but I enjoy chasing it. Yarnball. You will unravel, someday.

Hope abounds! Flourish, my little caterpillar!

I hope you are all having wonderful evenings/morning/afternoons, whenever it is that you happen to pop by and read. Miss you all.

TOOOOOOOODLES. <3

/mads

I wonder what you're doing today?

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 14:32:50 GMT

Heading to work now, but needed to post this.

Slightly larger version at http://jannin.deviantart.com.

That is all. Someday I will actually make a real blog entry again, I promise.

/mads

got blood?

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 05:05:33 GMT

[mood]: mabison is tired.
[music]: none.
[msn]: don't remember

Here is some art that I created. Soon to be computerized and "got milk?" spoofed.

Zenith again, looking tres le rock star.

/mads

When, after a movie, I feel as though I have just been through three hours of the greatest sex known to Earth, I don't actually mind having paid $10.95 for it.

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 08:51:25 GMT

Dark Knight: Potentially the greatest movie I have ever seen in my life.

Refute if you must, but you may become dead to me.

More later, when it is not nearly 2:am.

/mads

Song of the Siren

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 02:24:42 GMT

[mood]: kinky. Oh how I wish I could see your reaction(s).
[music]: Great Big Sea
[msn]:Sickly Pirate

...and I vow to never again wish for adventure.

...though I might just break that last one...

So! It has been a couple very exciting weeks! Good or bad? Well, it's been a mix of altogether simply exciting things. I had a pretty fun long weekend, so let's start there and travel somewhat downhill in an exhilerating, roller-coaster-like fashion, shall we?

To begin, this blog is... likely going to be interrupted by me eating, slash a number of other things, because I get the feeling it is going to be epic in proportions. As such is the case, I'll be dividing it into sections, as per the usual melodramatic shizzle shazzle. Except this time I think I'll do some photoshoppery on my titles. If I don't get too sickened of this entry before it is over.

Also, I am as bagged as dead kittens, so excuse my poor grammar/structure/retelling/spelling. Note the rhyme though. The rhyme is stellar.

The long weekend was epic. Got off early from work (around noonish) and tore home. Stopped in Calgary for gas (and the 100,000 car accidents that were IN MY WAY) and then headed for BC... got to the border and ended up going 80kph for the rest of the way, as Albertans still, unfailingly, have no idea what a corner is. Picture example? Sure why not!

Shown above is a dismally small WA-6-L sign. In Alberta when you see one of these signs, it means you're about to go on a scenic, potentially 5-minute adventure through some rolling hills - remnants of the rockies. Imagine a peaceful carriage ride through a green Ireland. Contrariwise, when you see the sign in BC, it means the next few turns are going to take maybe a minute, unless, in fact, you are Albertan, in which case you will end up treating them like your rolling-hills signs, moving at 40kph and building yourself a nice little necklace of beads in your rear-view, much to the chagrin of everyone behind you!

Got home early. Surprised mom. I think she even called me a bugger. Had dinner, but wasn't too hungry - full of disgusting road food.

That night I went to see Wall-E, or however you'd like me to spell it. It was alright. At the beginning, I had a very big problem suspending disbelief - which I normally don't have. I think the trouble was that... this wasn't totally far out. AKA, it is possible to build robots. However, it is not possible to create robots with feelings, which these ones had.

Once you get over that fact it's actually a pretty decent movie, considering the fact that it's meant mostly for 6-year-olds and their complacent grandparents. The downside: the "I found plants!" noise on one of the robots is the mac start-up noise.

*puke*

Onwards!

After the movie I headed to Gwen's house for mojitos, which I drank too quickly, but they were awesome anyway. Alex and Danny walked me home, Kyla walked herself home as it is about two blocks. Time for another random tangent.

Kyla and Curtis are the only two people who occupy - wait I lie, my mom's there too - an interesting space in my cellphone's phonebook list. They exist as follows:
Kyla: Kyla is fucking awesome
Curtis: Carcass, Tsar of the Undead
Mom: Mother Ship

What's hilarious is phoning Curtis with voice commands. "Did you say, 'Call, Car-cass, Tsar - of - the - un-dead'?"

Har har har.

Saturday morning was lame. Juline was a big pooface and I'm not even gonna get into it on my bloggeroo, since I'm...pretty much done with her forever! How romantic. However I will explain why she was lame:

Week before long weekend:
Juline: Hey Madi let's hang out on Saturday!
Madi: Okay sounds cool.

Saturday:
Juline: Oh, what? You're having a bunch of people over tonight for a party? Oh I don't think I really want to come.
Madi: Okay... fair 'nuff, what other night aren't you busy?
Juline: Oh never. I'm too good for you. I really wanna hang out but I can't break my plans with people that I see every fucking day to hang out with my "best friend" during the only four days that she might be in town during the entire summer. But you're a bitch for not hanging out with me alone tonight, like we planned.

-_-

Yeah, I'm still somewhat cheesed off about it, but I'm sure you can't teee-eeeelll!

In other news, we also set up the boat on Saturday! Hurrays!

Saturday night was bitchin', Juline did end up coming (late, and she was a bitchy tool the whole time, and it wasn't only me who noticed >:| grumble). Had loads of amigos over for booze and sociables.... I'd say a good 40% of people didn't actually drink, but it was a great time anyway!

^ As you can see I wasn't quite drunk yet - I was able to take this photo. Let's just say I ended up the hammerdest one o.O' And... yeah. The game was epic. We played two decks with king's cup included... which I also ended up drinking... and it was most rank:

-blueberry beer
-almong joy (aka, there is milk in this bitch)
-normal beer
-sourpus
-rum/vodka/other
-other..?

Needless to say, the milk curdled and made this delightful sort of icing on top of a drink that actually didn't taste too bad. But I had to dodge the milk. Ew.

Later on more and more people started to leave, so the few of us who were left mosied downtown... and had more shots at the Mount Baker! ...Cam, Juline and I, anyway. Heh. One shot too many for the Madison, anyway. Then we walked back up towards my house, at which point I am certain a number of Cranbrookites woke up to loud, off-key renditions of "Old Polina" and other fantasmic Great Big Sea songs.

In the playground, I was balance-girl supreme aside from the fact that I was wasted - better even than James, who was totally sober. We ended up finding this pink ball thing that had been exploded, and James (I think it was James) tied it in a knot and put it on my head. Tres fashionable:

...and about this photo, let's just say I picked the one where I looked less drunk off my ass. Also, I didn't actually remember this moment until I was looking through my camera the next day. By the way, Erin, Britt, mom... sorry if your respect for me has plumetted throughout these last few paragraphs. MEH.

I think one of my favourite parts after these evening was my mom saying that Mason looked really drunk. Keeps me in the margin of what Sean always said last summer; that I'm a sneaky drunk. Probably only true because I'm not quite as excitable as they were... ever.

Sunday brought... more... relaxation, nothing huge, really. I don't actually remember much of what we did on Sunday. I remember having a wonderful breakfast... but that's it. Dur?

Monday mom, dad and I tried to drive to the States but they were having none of that; the line was huge and we didn't feel like waiting, so we turned around and had food at the Moyie Pub instead (World Famous!). Then we went SAILING!

...which was obviously fan-ticking-tastic.

I find it intriguing how much I still love the water. Ever since I was young I always have. I got to thinking about this and discovered more intrigue (less mystery, but whatever). My astrological sign is Aquarius (ooooh) and I am named after a mermaid in a movie. Yeah. That's right. Watch Splash and try to tell me that's not epic.

Monday night I had James and Myles over for movies, as James left the following message on my phone that day: "Madi! You are... ....leaveing... ...tomorrow... ooh. Well, bye."

?! So I called him back and we ended up watching Bon Cop Bad Cop, eventually. Took us a while to decide, but that was fun too. Then I slept.

Woke up the next day and tore home. Made much better time, didn't get a speeding ticket, drove a different way and found this sweet place in Longview, AB, that sells old-school carriages. Not that I would ever buy one. Not. A cop made fun of my car; when I got to Gateway Blvd we were all driving really slow through a construction zone and there were about eighty cops there to make sure of it. I had my window down and heard one of them remark, "Hey, check out that old Mazda."

-_-

Don't you have something to do? Go arrest someone or something! Get back to work! Yeesh. Insulting my car. Douche.

For the record, the title for this section is lyrics from Great Big Sea, and... I think they are important, so pretend that I mean them to all of you in the most heartfelt of ways, especially those of you who are far off in Kelowna, or lost back home in Cranbrook. If you are a party of the latter, come visit me, and I'll show you some foolish times.

Not much to say in this section. I went to work on Wednesday and Thursday. Work is being pretty cool of late; I am getting more responsibilities (aka, more stuff to fuck up) but it is also nice because... it makes me feel special that I get to do important things, and also "I'm learning!" in the Ralph-est voice you can imagine from my lips.

Thursday saw something interesting at the site: Mike and I were just leaving when we saw this small cluster of people near the end of our road. So we went to have a looksee. Some kid had actually driving off the end of a saw-cut path (ie, there used to be an asphalt bike path there but it had been cut out - along with about a half meter of dirt underneath it) and into the dirt. Did I mention he also drove through our signs and bright orange barricades?

Did I mention that this road is right in the middle of Sherwoord Park aka Yuppie Land? Yeaaahh. So this little whiner kid got an ambulance called for him because he fell of his bike. Sure, it was a pretty big fall, but... come on! He drove through our fucking barricades! What did he expect? Playpen balls?

Speaking of secnalubma...

Oh wait. One more story before that.

Curt and I got promoted out of our beginner's class at martial arts. FINALLY. For me, anyway, it's been driving me nuts being in the intro class. So now the real fun begins! We had to do a fancy little test thing to make sure we knew the combos we were supposed to, had semi-correct form and etc. More on martial arts later!

Now, secnalubma!

Thursday night I went to sleep at around 9:30 or 10:00 - early, and I was pumped about it. I figured I'd get so much sleep.

Enter Irony, Stage Left

Around 1:00 I started to have that sort of... lucid dreaming thing where you're sort of awake, but you don't wanna be, so you try to stay in the dream that you're in, but it just doesn't work, and then around 1:30 I woke up.

PAIN. My stomach hurt, sort of just below my sternum. I tried to stay in bed. Nothing doing. So I got up... tried a little walkabout, went to the bathroom. Walked about some more. It was off and on, about every five minutes or so I'd get this nice STAB in the stomach like nothing I've ever felt before, and very slowly the pain would fade. Far worse than what I had in Winfield in December, it was enough to pretty much floor me for a few seconds while it existed, then I'd be fine except for a tightness like you get if you try to stretch out after doing a bunch of sit-ups. That just didn't go away.

Finally gave in and tried to puke. Didn't happen. So then I tried to go back to bed, around 2:30.

Definitely not.

Got up, had a glass of milk, which immediately fired up Ol' Stabby, and I was on the floor again, for nearly half a minute.

I suppose most people would have stopped trying to eat things at that point. I had a glass of water, instead, which didn't react right away, and instead waited for about a minute to piss me off.

Went and tried to puke again... and no. Picked up my cellphone. Ambulance? Nah. I walked over to my computer and google-mapped "hospital, edmonton". But which one to choose? Before I'd made a choice, another pang, but they were getting further apart. Maybe it would go away?

I started to walk back to my bedroom, was stopped halfway by another stab, and so sat down on my couch and dialed 911. Hesitated a long time before pressing send, but press I did.

NOTE: If you are ever in a dark scary room with a murderer and you don't want him to find you, make damn sure your cellphone is on SILENT before you call 911, because otherwise, your phone will make this bizarre heroic-sounding chime when you press send and when you hang up.

"Emergency; police, fire or ambulance?"

Say what? This isn't like in those videos they showed us in grade four. They're supposed to ask where I am, and what's going on. This blows.

"Uh, ambulance?" (Like I dunno? Maybe I'm fire...?)
"Okay, I'll connect you through."

So then I got to talk to some other nice-sounding lady who asked what for my address and etc, and also told me to "remain in whatever position was most comfortable to me and try not to eat or drink anything until the ambulance got here"

Hmmmm eat or drink nothing, you say? Weeeelll.... So I gathered my important documentation and went to wait near the front door of my building. A few minutes later the ambulance pulled up!

...to the building next store.

Okay, so maybe it's a huge coincidence? Maybe someone else called at practically the same time on the same street? Definitely not. They went to the wrong place. I waited and they finally came over to my building. They laughed about it later; said they woke some guy up but left before he could actually get out of bed o.O'

So I got into the ambulance. For the record... I often think of ambulances as ecnalubma, because that's what it says on the front. It's one of those weird things like eating my sandwiches in circles, etc. I just do it. Don't hate.

[Interjection: there is a huge storm here right now and it's AWESOME!]

So then we went on a rollicking ambulance ride. Not as interesting as I expected it to be, but I wasn't really in critical condition, thankfully. Just the occasional stabbing. Eventually I needed to puke, as I was seated backwards. He gave me a bag and then said they had a rule in the ambi: If you puke, you get Gravol. I don't really like taking drugs as a rule, and I'm not a huge fan of Gravol either. Lame drug. I said I didn't really want any and he said I needed it anyway, and then said he was going to give me an IV. Interesting!

"Does it hurt more or less than getting blood taken?" I asked.
"Well, let's put it this way; would you trust a nurse to do that in a moving vehicle?"

Well, shit, son.

So he stabbed into my left wrist, side-ish, below my thumb. Wiggled it around. Nope! So I gave him my righty, which he stabbed IN THE BACK OF MY HAND, then proceeded to wiggle it around.

Surprisingly, it wasn't really so bad. However I was still being sporadically invisibly impaled in the stomach.

The Gravol was in the IV. Damn tricky bastards, those ambulance dudes.

We got to the hospital, they put me in a wheelchair, wheeled me in, took down my name and etc and shoveled me into the waiting room with the rest of them. It was 4:00am.

By 7:00 am I had vomited again in the lovely public bathroom down the hall, was really tired, had called work and was still having pains, about every 15 minutes. I finally got called into the actual hospital.

...where I was forced into a gross hospital gown, had my vitals taken and then told to wait again, on a bed in a room.

About 15 minutes later, a new nurse showed up. I had my vitals taken again, answered all the same questions and was told, again, to wait. The doctor showed up, asked all the same questions, left again. My second nurse (Justina) came back, and I was told that I would have to move into the hall. Oh hurray.

So then I was waiting in the hall, which wasn't really so bad, as I got to see a lot. I think in the room I would have fallen asleep right out of boredom.

Around 8:00 they brought in this girl who was screaming her lungs out: "Get this thing off me!! Get it off!! Get it off!!" You have to imagine it in a busy hospital, at the highest pitch available to the human vocal chords. Frantic. Hysterical. Desperate.

I got my blood taken, gave them a lovely urine sample and was told to wait again, still hooked up to my IV.

Oh right. About my IV. When I first got to meet Justina she decided she was going to switch my IV away from what ambulance guys gave me to some other stuff. This involves changing the tube that goes almost directly into the back of the needle, which goes directly into the back of my hand. ROAR!

Not only that, but ambulance-bag had run out, so I was chilling there with blood starting to go back up the tube. Know what they do when that happens? Force the fucking clotted blood back into your body. THAT was possibly THE most horrendous thing that anyone has EVER done to me. Gives me the heeby-jeebies just thinking about it. It's the most awkward, not to mention painful, feeling. I can't even give you something similar to compare it to.

Also, IVs make you pee like nothing else. My mouth felt dry the entire time I was there, but I had to go to the bathroom like... four or five times in the space of a few hours. Blarg!

Screamy girl was back a while later: "I can't breathe! I can't breathe! Give me something! Help me, I can't breathe!"

...maybe because, oh, I dunno.... YOU'RE SCREAMING SO FUCKING MUCH?!

Yeesh. I actually got to see her that time; flailing about like a fish out of water as they rushed her towards another room. Creeper. Another note while I'm on a tangent from my story: I think my favourite question at the hospital will always be, "Any chance you could be pregnant?"

Oh sweet Jesus, I hadn't thought of that. Like maybe having a baby would make my stomach feel weird? You don't say. Like I'm here because I haven't already gone through all the logical fucking reasons I could be in pain. NO FUCKING SHIT.

"No I am not pregnant." And then:

"Are you sure?"

..........

When I ranted about this to Curtis he said, "Unless this is Jesus, I'm quite sure." Which I think will be my reply next time. Criminey Jicket.

Anyway, screamer girl came back again one final time, I think: "I want to see my lawyer! Get away from me!! I wanna see my lawyer!"

In my day, we would have bound and gagged that bitch, possibly put her under.

Then I had to give them another urine sample. Then they brought in this old lady whose name was Mary, who I nicknamed Mary Mary Quite Contrary, who bitched incessantly about having been there since 7:00am. I HAD BEEN THERE SINCE 4:00. Then she started bitching about them not having a bed for her. Then she took a little roll down the hallway and looked down a different hall and came back and started bitching to me about "They lied to me, they lied to me, there are beds down there, there are three beds down there, they said there weren't any; they lied to me..." Imagine it in the voice of some dying old woman who has smoked her entire life. Blegh. Anyway, I finally got to stop listening to her when they took her away!

Justina came back with a "Pink Lady" for me; it's an antacid that you drink. I drank up. It tasted like dentist, and was really thick... like trying to drink whip cream, sort of. A bit heavier though. Numbed my entire mouth, lips, swallower-bit (which sucked, because I really couldn't tell how to swallow after that, and sort of felt like I was choking constantly) but... made my stomach feel like shit again! Hurrays!

I called mom, called my work again, then continued to wait, and pee. Finally the doctor came back.

"So, we've diagnosed you with stomach flu, and I wrote you this prescription for B-%#&*!. Can you tell me, which painkiller worked more, the Pink Lady, or the IV?"

Freeze frame.

1. Stomach flu? No.
2. There was painkiller in the IV? ...shit o.O'

"Stomach flu? Really?" (I'm sure he could hear my skepticism).

"Yes." (And he looked at me as though daring me to contradict.)

I bit my tongue, took the prescription and waited for the nurse to take out my IV. Eight fucking hours in the hospital, and I have stomach flu. Which, according to several people now, is an imaginary sickness that doctors make up when they don't know what's wrong with you. Awesome! Obviously, I haven't actually looked it up myself, and although it would probably only take a few minutes to google it, I'm not going to. Not now.

So now I have some dumb prescription for anti-pain/anti-nausea that I haven't filled yet because I haven't really felt either since I left the hospital. I got home afterwards via taxi and fell asleep almost immediately... accidentally left my phone in the other room, much to the dismay of many people who were trying to call me to find out if I was still alive. I finally woke up around 9:30 when I heard creepers Curtis and Danny at my back window saying, "I see a foot! She's still there!"

-_-' Thanks though, guys :) They took me for food that I had to go easy on (Doc said to start with liquids and worked my way up) and then I went to bed again. Oh huzzah!

So! All in all a completely useless hospital trip, but now I have had some wonderful experiences, not to mention I took some potentially-illegal photos while I was there, which I will now post for you! Ta-dah!

IV from the ambulance. As mentioned, didn't hurt until lovely Justina decided to push the clot through -_- Wench!

Trying to take a stealth-picture of my IV bag while I was in the waiting room. Got some of my sweet bed hair too, apparently.

That last one was me in my hospital gown, but it is FAR less than flattering, so I'll keep it to myself for now :P

I have an IV bruise :(

And that is all for that adventure, I fear. Saturday was a total waste because I just lazed about all day, trying to rest. Stomach tightness was still there, and very occasional pain, but not nearly as often as before.

By the way, the little arty title thing is from a song by Buck 65 that Mike plays in his car sometimes. I find that one line (if not others) very pleasing, so there it is for you, plus it sort of fits its... entry... bit.

END OF SECTION

NO TITLE WAS AVAILABLE FOR THIS SECTION

That's a lie - there were many - I just can't think of them at the moment, and we're almost caught up to today anyway. Sunday I went paintballing with work - Saturday night I didn't think I would go, but I got loads of sleep and felt alright. Plus it was amazing fun. My boss, Brad, had a 'hitlist' and I was the only one on it he didn't get, so now he's all bitchy about that. He phoned me today just to make fun of me for something I did. Poohead.

Monday, Curtis and I had first intermediate lesson... and damn was it intense. That's all I've got to say, but... there is a huge jump between nicey-nice beginner's intro classes and intermediate "time to get shit done!" classes.

Other updates in the life of me: not really. I'm still editing, getting a little faster at it now. Gonna see if James or Myles will read for me so I can get some more opinions, though maybe after I've done this next edit, as I still have a lot of work to do for it. Then, depending on what they/others who might read it before then say (hint hint hint in the most obvious imploring sort of way, but only if you have time, but if you do have time I'd love to know what you thiiiiink), I might just work on the first thirty pages or so, my query letter and othe such shebang that I will submit in September, which looms EVER NEARER!

And now I am DONE!

Madison, AWAAAAAY!!!!!

I had to learn to not look down, and I quickly learned to kneel.

Wed, 25 Jun 2008 01:35:30 GMT

[mood]: most excellent
[music]: GREAT BIG SEA: FORTUNE'S FAVOUR
[msn]: Pirate: FORTUNE'S FAVOUR

...for those of you who weren't paying attention at all, Fortune's Favour came out today. Of course I realise that at least 40% of the people reading this blog REALLY don't give a shit, but... MEH! You are part of my joy now anyway!

Al:
a) You will be happy to know we are not in the Walk on the Moon music video :(
b) Never used "Schroedinger's Ship" as a blog title; was my msn name for a while, however. There's an excellent shirt on thinkgeek.com that says on the front "Schroedinger's cat is dead" and on the back "Schroedinger's cat is not dead". I think it's great, and someday it will be mine *stares off into the moderately near future*

For the rest of you... well! The new CD is pretty sweet. Has a bit of a slow beginning and I almost started to feel as though they were challenging themselves too much; there are a few parts where the vocals are a bit... well, they could have been better. Mostly this is because of the notes they chose to sing, but hey. It is otherwise epic, last song is killer, and of course many others throughout. I have only listened once, so... more of that needs to be done before I really decide, as I pretty much need to know all the words before I know where this album will fit on my scale of Great Big Sea. *contented sigh* So far.... excellent though :)

Anyway! The people upstairs are being very annoying and playing the drums or something, which... GRAH is going to give me a headache very fast. GRUMBLE. Headphone time. Yup yup.

Pre-emptive Tylenol!

And now I'm good to go. Alright. Let's talk about THIS WEEKEND! Meaning the one that just passed. Duh. Before that, however, I'm going to introduce a new title, as I have thought of a few since my last entry, not to mention this one will be more fitting.

The Road Goes Ever, Ever On

Fuck this music sounds even better on my headphones. But now I promise I will try very hard not to mention it again.

This weekend was bitchin' in the most prostitutional meaning of the word. And by that I mean it was excellent.

Plane ride was pretty alright both ways; didn't have to sit beside anyone either time, and I got Bits and Bites rather than shitty snacks. However, they DIDN'T HAVE COKE, and for a while I wasn't sure what to do about it. The first ride I had Pepsi. On the way back, switched it up to 7-Up. But no Coke? Honestly.

I think my favourite Cokes On A Plane adventure was when I went to Japan. I spilled my entire glass all over my lap... I forget why. Thankfully it was decently early in the flight, and I again wasn't sitting beside anyone. I used the extra blanket from the empty seat to mop up, then used it to dry my pants for the rest of the ride. Great way to start the trip, I know. I don't actually think I've told that story much... Meh!

A note: I am not particularly fond of the Vancouver airport. Never really have been. The check-in bit there it just a pain in the ass, all the time. Anyway! At the Vancouver airport I got to rescue some Quebecois girls who didn't know how to get their hostel. I had a) learned French at some prior point in my life, and b) stayed in the hostel before, so I was la heroine! Mwaha.

After that I got into the car with Erin... at which point... navigation got very interesting o.O' Glad to say it was not me in the front seat. We used to have this thing we had to do in gym class called "orienteering" that taught us to use compasses and maps and directions and such. Interestingly enough I thought it was a huge waste of time. Needless to say, it apparently was not. Not that I think a huge part of my innate sense of direction (italics due to the way you need to read it... if you've never heard me say that... I am surprised). This is the part that relates to my section title :)

For the record, it's actually part of a song sung in The Hobbit. The road goes ever ever on, over rock and under ... tree? sea? Sea makes no sense but I feel like that's what it is.

...breaking my promise, I'm still loving this CD.

It was great to see everyone though (mostly Erin and Britt of course... the rest of you... can't navigate :P) har har. I miss you guys already :P And you will have to come to Edmonton some time. We won't even get lost, promise. Unless you like that sort of thing *eyebrow wiggle*

We stayed at Sam's friends' house. The host was... well, the situation was just odd for me. I didn't expect to be staying at anyone's house, albeit I never asked, so that's my own fault. No biggy there, but Cathy (host momzor) was a little strange... towards me, anyway. Or at least I felt so. Maybe she just rubbed me the wrong way. Erin and Britt, ignore this section if you dare, I may get a little heated. Point is. We sort of started off on the wrong foot when I started half-bad-mouthing golf... I commented that it's strange to me how the "sports updates" can switch from something intense like soccer to golf.

Now. I have never tried golf before. And I admitted that. She scoffed.

"Well I bet if you tried golf for a day, you'd see what muscles would be screaming when you were done!"

...I didn't say this out loud, but if you write for an entire day the muscles in your hand scream. Thereby making writing as intense as soccer? If I draw in Photoshop with my shitty mouse for a couple of hours my muscles scream. Piss off with that argument.

I was letting it go, and she had the audacity to go on with something to the effect: "I mean, I know there's not a lot of muscular young men running around in their shorts."

Yeeeaaah. I'd safely say that a large percentage of people who even watch sports are men, and that's definitely what they're watching it for. Furthermore, YOU'RE RIGHT, BECAUSE YOU DON'T NEED TO BE ATHLETIC TO GOLF. In the archaic greek sense of the word. Leave me be.

Anyway. I told her that I fully realise there is a lot of skill and training necessary to actually be good. I'm not putting it down as a sport. All I'm saying is that it's not as intense as soccer. That's the word I used. Intense. Is golf intense? No.

Anyway again, I redeemed myself a little the next morning. Erin and Britt, if you are still reading, I'm still sorry for raving pointlessly, but too late now! ;) ...mostly Erin I guess, as Britt wasn't there, and she was nice enough to make you that cake...

In the morning she busts into the kitchen with, "Today's word of the day is HALCYON."

Then she looked all smug as she glanced around the kitchen. Sort of saw Erin glance at me (thanks so much for that, by the way... made me feel special ^_^).

"Peaceful," was my reply, and I regretted it the moment I said it, as I figured she'd correct me with words that came second to my mind - calm, tranquil. She didn't correct me, surprisingly, she even admitted I was right, then added those two synonyms just for fun. Then she bet I couldn't spell it.

...known how to spell halcyon since like... grade seven when it was one of our spelling words..? Possibly before. It's also in a song I listen to quite a lot; Jubilee by Mary C Carpenter. "When we look back and say those were halcyon days, we're talkin' 'bout Jubilee." You won't like it, but I do. Anyway.

Madi: 1
Crazy Cathy: 0

I bask in my wordliness. That was an intense battle. Maybe spelling bees are sports too.

...and now that I'm done being a huge pompous bitch...

CIRQUE DU SOLEIL WAS AMAZING

Honestly, this is the stuff legends are made of. I was riveted for the duration of the show. There is so much to see it's amazing, and... it is exactly what it says - it's a circus. Sometimes when you see it on TV it seems like too much... like it's just... some... I dunno. It feels more pretentious on TV. In real life... you're there, and it's just... it's magic. I don't mean to sound like some lame newspaper critique, but... damn it was magic. It's the sort of stuff you'd see in a movie or really nice photograph, and wonder what program they used to make those special effects.

Thank-you Erin and Britt for forcing me to come.

And my shot-gun to navigate everywhere from now on still stands. ;)

Harry Potter and the Proposed Property Line

The following is just some random shite that's been happening at work, to add a bit of during-the-week to my blog entry.

Today I got to play in traffic a bunch and show off my straight-line-drawing-skillz. I also drew a semi-circle. With spraypaint on the ground, by the way. Surprisingly difficult. Pretty sure that's my job from now on... an aerial view of Mike's lines would reveal the clumsy crayon scribbles of a five-year-old.

I think... I may have already mentioned this, but recently we've been marking out power crossings in the field. Sure, that's fine. The guys who dig these lines, however, are ridiculously stupid. If you don't believe me, here's a recent quote:

"A meter five inches."

...the operator just looks at him. "What?"

"I said a meter five inches!"

Yeah. It wasn't a mere slip of the tongue or Tourette's Syndrome. He actually mixed imperial and metric.

Mike and I had to trot back to the car, get in, laugh our asses off, then get out again and attempt to remain calm. The rest of the day followed with many "Cut a meter twelve inches". Yeesh.

Recently a girl at Al-Terra had a baby... apparently everyone there has a baby now... hugely annoying, because once one of them gets going, for twenty minutes afterwards it's like, "Oh yeah well my baby is walking now!" "Oh well mine just had her birthday last week," and "My wife's parents are missing out seeing so-and-so learn to walk" WHATEVER. Talk about your babies elsewhere. At the rate this is going, I'm going to have to get impregnated here right quick.

How's the heart in your throat, momzor? I jest, I jest. :D

It's raining here, hardcore. Only noticed because I had to take the headphones off for a phonecall. It's epic :D

The other day while pulling out of Tim Horton's Mike and I were making fun of these kids who "should have been at school". So when we pulled away from the drive-through Mike yelled out his window, "Get to school you fucking punks!"

I'm sure he scarred the kids for life. It wasn't until a few blocks later that we realised they were probably out of school by now, as it's the end of June... *innocent smile*

Aaaand that's pretty much it. No photos this time around; take some yourself. I have procrastinated as much as I can tonight... I actually need to work on my co-op work term report now :(

SIGH.

Hope you're all having a lovely evening and I hope your birthday was fun, Erin.

Toodles.

(music is still epic)

Madison, AWAAAAAAAY!!!!

Give Me Lemons, I'll Give You Words

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 05:38:27 GMT

Still about. Here is some random tablet sketchery.

I'm outta here. Feel better. Chatted it up with an old friend.

Health and peace. Madre, gracias tambien.

/mads

Why don't they have any size tens? Because ten is too big. It doesn't look dainty or pretty or nice in any way. Nine is the new ten. Ten is out. Natural selection. You should have been thrown off a cliff as an infant.

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 04:06:24 GMT

[mood]: trying to lose myself in the semi-audible lyrics of Massive Attack whilst being mostly fake on msn. guess it up!
[music]: Massive Attack; the calming, hasty tappity-tap of my keyboard
[msn]: Pirate: now the sky's a little smaller

Hi.

If you don't want to hear me bitch incessantly slash be ridiculously emo, then go away now. You have had fair warning. I am going to bitch, rant, rave, wish that I had things to throw and then act all emo, like my life sucks and I'll despair until I die. Here goes. Breathe. Plunge. Unless you're going to make some stupid comment at the end of this entry. If such is the case, plunge without breathing, you don't need to read any further.

Past few days have been a bit of a pain in the ass for me emotionally. Why? Not sure. I'm tired, tonight, I think, but not overly. I was very happy all day... that has sort of gone down the shitter.

You know what are great? Emoticons. On msn you can be any sort of mood you want. You can lol to add levity to a conversation. You can :D even when you're not smiling, and certainly not grinning like an idiot. You can even lmfao, if you really dare to lie that much.

Generally I think I do.

What next?

Did you know that I really, really hate complaining to people about my so-called problems? Also, I like to make lists when I'm unhappy, so here goes. Why do I hate complaining to people? Well!

Most people I complain to have far worse problems to deal with than I do, so I feel like a huge bitch when I complain about stress or... anything. Anything about how I feel. My pants don't fit and their dad died. Well shit.
Lots of people like to pretend their problems are worse than mine, slash join in the bitch fest and try to one-up me with their problems. I dunno... maybe some people like that. I think I prefer when people agree with me when I'm bitching about something. For example, if I hated my cell phone I wouldn't want you to start complaining that your computer is a piece of shit. Just agree with my fucking cellphone problems! Fuel my fucking rage so I can get it out instead of censoring myself in light of your computer-hate! Fuckers!
I'm not generally the one to ask advice. Usually I am the one to give it. The problem here is that I have a very hard time defining my own problems. Even tonight, for example, I have no idea why I feel shitty. Actually, that's a bit of a lie. I know what set it off, but that's not the whole problem. That just happens to be its manifestation tonight.
It usually doesn't make me feel better. Maybe that's because I have yet to find someone that I can properly bitch to... but then again, maybe that will never happen. Maybe I'm just being too picky, and I could bitch to certain people and they wouldn't mind, but... I just feel like an asshole doing it, so I don't. Sigh.

Something that I remember talking about recently is throwing things when you're angry. I don't think I've ever done that. I remember... having that idea, as a child, and then I remember looking at my shelf and seeing nothing that I wanted to throw, because I didn't want to break any of it. And really, what is the point in breaking anything? You just have to clean it up, and then whatever you had is broken. I don't think I've ever even... torn up paper or anything in a rage.

Although I'm not usually angry enough to do that. Usually when I am angry like that... I just get sad. Or if I do remain angry... I just want to fight. And not because I necessarily want to hurt someone else. I think I just want to be hurt. I want to be exhausted. Totally used up so that I can just fall into one of those peaceful slumbers that only really tired, totally worn out people get to have.

Sigh.

You know what else is stupid? Those stupid petitions on Facebook where they try to get zillions of people to join a group just to prove a point. Those worked in the 60s when it was actually a show of power. Now it's the click of a button or a signature. Honk if you give a shit, sort of thing. My recent favourite is "15,000,000 to lower gas prices!"

Yeah. Because the Earth cares if 15 million people join a group on Facebook. It'll start pumping out more oil any second now, soon as Facebook gets those last few members.

Egh. All the anger is gone from me. Such is what time does.

What was the point of this entry? Just to vent. I have done so, if not fully. I want to have a serious conversation one of these days... ...man I am fucking lonely, apparently. How sad is that?

I'm out before I become more pitiful. Don't judge. Eat cookies.

/mads

Schroedinger's Ship

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 01:02:09 GMT

[mood]: MMA-ed
[music]: Negatron!
[msn]: Pirate: Broken Horse

Since when have I written
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
Since when have I written,
Dear Liza, since when?

June 12?! That was nigh on 6 days ago! Nearly a week! Bajeezus phish!

No I am not on drugs. On the contrary, my dearest Watson (formerly known as Liza). I have been drug-free since May.

Har har har har har. Anyway. I have exciting news and interesting stories and even some anecdotes for you today! I shall start with my weekend, which was very fun if not super exciting to read about. To begin, on Friday there was a plan to go to Beerfest (technically "Edmonton's International Festival of Beer" but who the hell wants to write that? EIFB sounds dumb.). So Curtis and I decided it would be good to walk or take public transit. We headed towards the Shaw convention centre at a nice pace, sipping our pretentious coffee and taking the pretentious LRT.

The Shaw Convention Centre, as it turns out, was not hosting the Beerfest. How very amusing. So where was it? WELL! Only ten kilometers in the opposite direction. Soooooo. We were gonna take the bus, but then we got high (just kidding, actually, the bus broke down en route and we had to book it to the LRT instead, using our not-really-allowed bus tickets on the train instead, but no one caught us because we are ninjas). The LRT took us some distance towards the beerfest, and then we walked a bunch. And then Curtis had to pee from his pretentious coffee, but there was no where to go. We decided to call a taxi, but then the taxi said he'd talk twenty minutes to get there. Well! We figured we could walk in that time, so we started towards real beerfest again. And then Steve/everyone who was riding with Steve passed us in a car, and yelled out the window at us. They got to beerfest first, called us and said there was no point in going because it would close soon.

So we went to Barb's house and then to the pub instead. Allllright. Was an excellent time. Later that night we got to try Fat Frank's honey ham sausage. Most excellent. Whyte is awesome on the weekends.

...Saturday Curtis and I went to the mall and ended up with hermit crabs [?!] which was also pretty saucy. His is Crabington and mine is Hermes. So far they are pretty bitchin'. I got mine for free because I gave the saleslady one of my flagging tape bracelets *bats eyelashes*. So far they are grand. Hermes even switched his shell a few mornings ago and I got to watch (it was actually really gross). I later caught another switch on tape just to show you how disgusting they are, and also so my dad can see my awesome camera skillz! Here is Hermes in The Great Shell Switch:

...and hopefully that worked. You may have to check back later, as I only just uploaded it, and it might not be processed yet. In case it doesn't show up forever, here are some photographies:

He looks a little different now, as he changed his shell into that polka-dotted one in the video... if you can see it. Point is, he is polka-dotty!!

Saturday night followed pretty much the same as Friday... except for we actually got to beerfest! Was a blast, Mike, Steve, Curt, Hartley and... Buzz..? were all there. And me! I was DD. So speckal. Then we retreated to my house, drank some more, bought Oodle Noodle (delicious!) and played Sociables. Then we went out again, ended up with more Fat Frank's, Curt and Barb's friend Zak slept at my house.

Completely aside from weekendry, Curt and I joined mixed martial arts. May have told you that already. Point is, we just got our uniforms and they are oh-so-sexy:

Curtis is looking... very non-threatening. But it's a ruse! They teach you that in class to fool your enemies.

Ummmm what else? I have told you so much about my delicious food that I should also post some photos of that! Here is the thing I made during my last entry, which was EXQUISITE!

MmmmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMMmmmmmm!!! Meat-stuffed pancakes with SAUCE! The sauce was amazing.

Oh yeah! And here are Danny and Curt with our veritable MOUNTAIN of sushi, and our hippie Monopoly:

Ummmm that's about all I've got for you. Recently my car's muffler decided to say "fuck you Madison" and now makes a lot of noise. I intent to fix that tomorrow at some point... with wire! Otherwise for now I am the annoying teenager with the stupidly loud car that even I want to murder. Only thing missing is the gangsta rap.

This entry is long. Turrahs!

Madison, AWAAAAAAAY!