Excellent homework doings today ! I slept until noon and then, coffee in hand, began to animate the Miyagi piece I needed to do. And it works ! Well, with the exception of some bizarre hand giggling that is probably related to the mess-up we had in the blend-shapes lipsynch. Perhaps Daniele will be able to fix it. If not, we'll just tweak it somemore tomorrow. Anyway, I feel pretty darned pleased with myself, completing an animation and, mostly, having it work. Maybe things really are finally coming together for me. Gosh, I do hope so.

I'm now procrastinating before having to go to a union meeting. It's the demand setting meeting and we need as many of the part-time membership there as we can possibly have. This being the case, picking 5:30pm on Hallowe'en is probably not such a good idea. So, I'll go in my cloak, be one of the five people there, accomplish nothing, and leave. I've got no plans for tonight, really. There's a party on Realms tonight, so my character, Rhyl, is getting dressed up. Hopefully the MUD will be back online sometime soon, since it's crashing badly right now. Rhyl will be dressed as Vernese. Rhyl, of course, is a mean, nasty drow queen, whereas Vernese is a goody surface elf. Vernese will be attending the party as Rhyl. That all is supposed to go off around 7:30pm tonight, so I should be back from the meeting before then.

Following that, I'll have to log off around 9pm or so because Deanna, aka. Graelynia, will be coming through Toronto on the way to visit Lindsay in Peterborough. I'm supposed to find something for Dee and I to do tonight, but it's not going to be easy. We'll probably just end up at Java or something. Not exciting, but seeing as I've got no food in my house, it won't be all bad, either. It will be nice to meet her, too. Finally.

On a sad note, Sam The Record is bankrupt and only the flagship store and a few select locations will remain open until all their stock is sold. I guess I'll go by there and see about buying a Sams teeshirt or something. Wow, it's sad. No one has their film collection or their massive selection of classical music. I'll go on Friday, I suppose, or after school tomorrow. Sad, sad, sad.

M*A*S*H* remains, to this day, some thrirty years after it first aired, one of television's finest series. I've had my TV on for the last few hours, despite having been disappointed by Buffy's pre-emting by a hockey game. Most of game three of the World Series past by in a haze as I hung out with the new upstairs neighbour, Greg. An A&E biography of Caligula made vaguely interesting background noise (with lots of lovely Roman and Neoclassical art), though they left out some of the more debatable and ghastly details. But I wasn't talking about Caligula, I was talking about M*A*S*H*.

I've seen every episode, I think, thanks to syndication, but I never cease to be moved. I tuned in for the last eight minutes of the episode when Colonal Henry Blake is recalled to the USA, and of course, dies as his plane is shot down over the sea. When Radar comes into the surgery and holds himself up against a rack, grief-stricken, I am already crying. "Radar, put on a mask." He stoops over the rack and touches his face, and the viewer already knows what he's going to say. Blake is dead, it's impossible, but he is. The operating room can't shut down, there are lives to save, but the doctors and nurses keenly feel their pain. The sorrow is palpable. God, they just don't make poignant shows, which also happen to be funny as Hell, like that anymore.

Wow, I think I just stumbled on a 'late night' movie on City TV. This means that it's either a horrible thriller, or a ghastly soft-core. Oh, look, a dead body floating in a boat wreck. Damn, it's the former. Oh well. It deserves at least ten minutes of my time. Hm, not even.

Ahhh, the hallmarks of a movie from the mid-eighties: fake paint splattered silk shirts and gratuitous exercise machine moments. Yeesh. And both in the same thirty seconds. Throw in a headband, a palm tree, and a bad premise such as a school reunion, and BOOM ! Instant crap gratification. Quite the come-down after M*A*S*H*. Oh, and look what's on TLC: some lame show about ... Poe? Horror? I'm not sure, but it featured a dominatrix in truly campy pvc. Her dungeon wasn't my fear, but her fashion sence might kill me. Hm, good stuff.

Oh, and on an unrelated sidenote, I'd like to say that Justin appologised, if you were wondering.

I overslept this morning, mostly due to the stupidity of the night before. Justin didn't come out of his room while I was getting ready so I don't even know if he was awake. Not that I felt like talking.

Wackiness, though, when I came out of my room to get ready for bed sometime around 4am, I stepped in a massive puddle that seemed to be making its slow way toward my bedroom from beneath Justin's door. I suppose it was water, but it was pretty weird. I briefly considered it as an act of passive aggression directed against me, but I dismissed it, thinking that was just a little too vindictive for Justin. Maybe he spilled something in his room, but whatever it was, I mopped it up with a towel. Weird.

My homework was not overly successful last night, I must say. It probably wouldn't have been successful even if I'd been able to work straight through without distraction and interruption. I've read through a lot of the online tutorials that come with Maya Unlimited 4.0, just trying to find the clues I need to do my work. Maybe that's why my theoretical knowledge is so much further along than my practical. Anyway, in school, my group was a little disappointed that I didn't have work done, or rather the work I had done was disfunctional, but soon they realised that there were a lot of inherant problems in the model. We're moving along at a nice pace now, though, and I've been helping Martin blend face shapes for the lipsynch. Once that's done, I'll try animating it again. Hopefully this time it will work.

And maybe this time Maya won't crash. It's a hard lesson to learn, but after a few good system failures, you force yourself to 'save' your work. All the time. So, tedious, but important. Also, all this is a good way to keep my mind off of the other crap.

Tonight I went to see Diane's apartment. It's nice. It's not really as big as where I am presently, and it has no porch to suit my limited gardening desires, but it's nice. I met Justin at his work and we went to the place, checked it all out... nice. What can I say, it was nice.

Unfortunately, Justin was vibing weirdly the whole time, which granted sounds like some sort of medical disorder, but it is the only way to describe it. He even brought up his friend, Peter, out in Halifax, inviting him to move out there. Nice timing there, Just, really. He had to get back to work so I hung out with Diane for a bit - she fed me some yummy soup she'd made herself (how many prospective landladies do THAT?) - and we chatted. I came home and had very little luck with my homework, discovering at this late time, that the model I have to work with is... well, not the best to work with. Lacking the immediate patience to fix it, I did some other things for a while.

When Justin came home, having been out drinking with his bud, Jay, we got to sort of discussing the place. I was talking about what sort of people were also interested in the house and how I thought we'd probably lose out to the present tenant's friend's mother who needs a place because she's just gotten a job in Toronto. He mentioned that it would sort of be better for him to live with Jay where he would only have to pay 200$ a month. I couldn't believe what I heard, so I ignored him while I cleaned Willi's litter. I washed and dried my hands, poured myself a glass of water, and at this point it all degraded:

MAYA: It's totally cool to live with Jay. What's not cool is telling me you'd like to continue living with me and then changing your mind.
JUSTIN: No, what's not cool is you thinking I said something I didn't ! I did not tell you that ! I said I didn't know if I'd want to live with Jay.
MAYA: That is not what you said, you said that you would like to-
JUSTIN (yelling): No, when I said I would consider living with Jay, you laughed it off and said 'you don't really want to live with Jay, do you?'
MAYA: You laughed it off, yourself-
JUSTIN: No, I didn't say I'd rather live with you over Jay-
MAYA (yelling): Don't interrupt me, Justin ! We discussed this and you told me you wanted to keep living with me-
JUSTIN: I-
MAYA (over top of his interruption): That's what you told me, and I've been blissfully thinking I'd still be living with you. Why the hell did you come to the house tonight? Why did you let me think you would jump at moving out of here and-
JUSTIN: I still wanted to see it.
MAYA: Right, so you can live somewhere else and leave me in the lurch.
JUSTIN: I never said anything like-
MAYA (stomping off to her bedroom): Screw it !
JUSTIN: Ya-wha?
MAYA (slams door)

At this point Justin sat fuming in the kitchen much as I was fuming in my room, though I have no idea if he was crying like I was. He put on his shoes and stomped down the stairs to go... trudge around outside. I phoned Nick (I would have called Rick, but he was sleeping, and Nick, having seen him online moments earlier, was not) and bawled the story to him. Justin came back moments later, but I did not open my door for further discussion. At that moment, as far as I was concerned, he could live in a garbage bag if it was what he wanted.

This is not fine timing on Justin's part. Nick JUST committed to a very nice apartment north of here, so I can't even finagle him to take this place with me. I'm screwed. I don't know what Justin plans to do - he can move to Halifax for all I care at this moment. But if I get evicted, I have to look for a new place, pack up my house, and move all while I'm still in school. I can't afford to live on my own, and now I don't even have the security of living with Justin.

And, to top it off, it's 2:20am and I haven't finished my animation project yet. Sleep? Bah, it's for the weak.

Today sucked. Utterly.

"Christmas trees? You have got to be kidding me. What the Hell is wrong with this place?!"

That was my reaction as I walked into the ROM to work this morning. I turned for the cafeteria to get my ritual ROM breakfast of a regular coffee and a rice crispy square and was struck incredulous by the awesome sight of Chirstmas trees in the shops. Someone want to explain to the ROM shops manager that it isn't even Hallowe'en yet? Even *I* remember when the Christmas shopping season didn't start officially until the Santa Claus parade in early, rainy November. I'm not that old, you know? Honestly, all the seasonal television specials in the world can't combat the consumerist bullshit that surrounds Christmas. A whole lot of marketing wonks deserve big, fat lumps of coal in their stockings, if you ask me.

Then I walked into the horrible cafeteria, a Druxy's deli, to buy, as I said, my typical ROM breakfast. Once, not too long ago, the rice crispy squares were long and large, and took a while to eat. Now, they are small and flat, a snack for mice. I went to the cash to pay, getting out the 2.63$ required to buy my square and coffee, only to hear that they'd upped the price to 2.90$. I laughed and said, "You have to be kidding? For this tiny thing?" They kid at the cash must have thought I was joking around because he laughed too, or maybe he was just an idiot. Add to the whole ridiculous affair tons of red and white balloons to celebrate Druxy's 25th anniverary, and you have something rather surreal.

So, out in the shops it is Christmas, inside the cafeteria it's bloody Valentine's day, and up in membership it's Hallowe'en. Thank God membership (three words I don't normally combine) is seasonal. I might have cried if I'd walked in and found Easter paraphenalia, though after the decorating ideas on the main floor, I wouldn't have been surprised.

So, huh. The Place. Didn't see it. Nope. I met Justin at his work and we strolled down the street to the house, rang the doorbell and... waited. We rang it again and... waited. Hm. Diane was nice enough to provide a comfy wicker love seat on her porch, though, so we sat on that for a bit. I tried calling her with my handy-dandy (it's still new enough for me to call it that) cell phone, but no one was there. I tried calling her at Julie's house where I thought perhaps she might erroniously be. I left another message. Justin suggested ringing the tennant buzzer, but no one was answering there, either.It was getting cold, so we went in search of a coffee house, figuring Dundas W. to be much like, on a more scaled down level, College St. Hah, no.

There was a plethora of unrented and boarded up storefronts, closed convenience stores (not terribly convenient) and hair salons. There is, however; a giant wedding crap super store full of horribly ornate porcelain figures and chincey pastel coloured table dressings. I'll remember that when I'm in the market for B-movie scene filler. Justin and I ended up at the Coffee Time at Dundas and Euclid. It's not as sketchy as many of its bretheren, but it seemed to cater to the local Triad needs. There was even a smoking section where ten or so Asian males were smoking, gambling over poker (I think), and doing business on their phones. So, while this one did in fact have doughnuts, it was still a highly sketchy locale to drink coffee.

We made some more calls, left some more messages, and decided to walk home. When we arrived, Adina infomed us that Diane had JUST called and that we should phone to reschedule. Diane was spaced, apparently, which is okay and I explained that it happened to me all the time, and we've set tomorrow at between 7pm and 8pm to view it. I might as well view an apartment tomorrow evening since it turns out Momus is then, and Rick can't afford it, Nick's likely not going to be able to go thanks to arriving home from Nova Scotia, and I have a pile of homework that needs doing.

Actually, I should start on that homework now; Mr. Miyagi is calling out to be animated. I should. I probably won't for a while, though, I need a bit of down time.

I don't want to be sick again. As much as I love this time of year, being sick every other week really gets tedious. I can't imagine how it must be to be out on the streets these days, when the weather gets colder and the rain falls more often than the sun shines, and then to be sick all the time. Now is about the time when I start carrying loose change in my pockets just so that I can give it away to the panhandlers. God, I don't even want to imagine how horrible it must be on the streets now, let alone actually live it.

I'm off to meet Justin so that we can go look at an apartment together since my Asshole Neighbours are still assholes, and what with the house I'm in being sold and all and not having any idea whether or not we'll be evicted... Anyway, the place in Diane's house is up for rent and, while it might make Nick sad if we get it because it would be a perma-thing, it would be a really good thing for Justin and I who desperately need to keep living together. We like us ! Hopefully the place will be big enough, and Diane will favour us because I'm old friends of the family, but still, no sure thing. Hopefully, though.

Didn't go to Rocky Horror last night. Rick and I picked up Tical and Starlah (from Realms of Despair) for the get together and headed off to Mississauga for fun. Unfortunately, the Fox and Fiddle, the place where all the RoD events, including the massively good for business Reunion every August, decided to be anal because Starlah had no ID. So, rather than send Tical and Starlah off to nowheresville, we decided to accompany them. We collected Selina in the foyer leaving Feyd to wait for others to show. He promised to tell everyone where we'd gone to when they arrived.

So, we drove across the parking lot and went to Casey's which turned out to be a good idea. I had a 'little Ricky' which is a half-pint of Rickards Red and it was DELICIOUS. Naturally, when Rick (my boyfriend, not the drink) told me it was an aquired taste, I knew I'd like it. I ONLY like aquired tastes when it comes to beer. The nachos I had weren't so great, but it was fun, and best of all, everyone came to the restaurant to join us. Yay for geek solidarity ! Then we went to JJQ's and rented tables (it's a pool hall) and played the night away. Sorry for the F&F, we aren't going back there. You'd think for regular customers, who happen to also host a 40-person gathering over four days in August, you could bend the rules or turn a blind eye for ONE person.

Ahh, fuck 'em.

Anyway, now I must take off my skirt and put on some pants because it's damn chilly outside. I must meet Justin at his work and then off to see the place.

Last night continued to be a bit of a mix-up. Not only was my mother late, making our visit to Julie (who is in excellent form and spirit and doing wonderful things in physiotherapy) shorter than we would have liked, but Rick was late to my house. It seems that when I called Justin, he didn't give me quite the whole message and when Mom and I got back to my place, he still didn't give us the whole message. It might have cleared up some of the mess that later went on.

Rick called and told Justin that he'd be late to my house because he was going for drinks and wings with some people from work (this is good - socialising is important) and would not be back to my place until 7:30pm. What Justin told me was that Rick was going to be late but he'd be around 'sometime after 7'. So, without the rest of the message, Mom and I sat around waiting for Rick to show up. And sat. And sat. At 8pm, I finally went back into Justin's room and said, "Did Rick call again, by any chance?" Well, now Justin remembered to tell me that Rick was out with friends from work and I glowered. Mom and I waited for another ten minutes, and I told her that we should go eat. Afterall, she had a nearly two hour drive ahead of her, as well. So we did.

Periodically, through dinner, I got anxious about what Rick would say, or how angry he would be. Mom kept calming me down. She came back to the apartment with me, too, just to diffuse any tension that might well up. Good thing she did, because Rick was pissed with me when we returned at almost 10pm. He was going to leave and go home, and I told him that he might as well huffing my way to the kitchen to put the flowers he'd brought in a vase. And then I started to cry. In the other room, Mom did manage to cool some anger, and then, peacemaker that she is, she offered to drive Rick and I to the trade show so that we would be able to go afterall.

The Everything To Do With Sex Show was good. In an hour and a half, we saw every booth there, and laughed at silly things. We watched a bit of a lingerie fashion show, which had some highly unappealing styles in it. I don't 'get' the fluffy booby puff style. Especially in pink. How are fluffy, puffy, pink boobies remotely appealing? There were men standing near us who got all disturbed by a man wearing lingerie in the fashion show. Sure, transgendered people are perhaps not everyone's cup of tea, but come on... they weren't kidding when they said it was the EVERYthing To Do With Sex Show. They put the EVERY into everything. Oh they did, too. Wow.

We stopped at the Come As You Are booth where Megan was working and she was near the point of passing out. In six hours of working, she'd had one ten minute smoke break. Poor thing. She looked wiped out. Apparently, the firemen were stripping at the show, which I missed. Damn. And they are REAL firemen, not just guys in coveralls and hats. They might be the only strip show I'd want to see. What can I say? I admit it, firemen are... sexy. Something that was completely unsexy was seeing Alana, the obnoxious girl who irritated me for five years at Rocky Horror. There she was, dancing away on the stage, wearing the same horrible silver get-up she wore as a costume last year, thinking she's sexy. She made eyes at Rick and I more than once, probably mistaking our horrified stares for lusty leering. Yikes.

It ended up being a super good night with Rick, the show being fun, and then being waylaid back at my house. Yeah, baby, get it on. I think Rick is a good guy, and it bugs me when I think we're having problems, especially over stupid things. I'm really happy that Mom was there to smooth things out because he would have gone home, and I would have resented him. Don't sweat the small stuff, you know? He had better get a phone sometime soon though, cause I don't want this to happen again. Bleh, no sir.

I just did something amazingly lame. I just became the obnoxious women in all those horrible laundry detergent/fabric softener ads. As I dried my hands on my freshly washed towel, I leaned in and inhaled it's fresh scent. And smiled.

GAH ! Horrors.

It's unpleasantly chilly in my appartment today. It seems evil Adelina does not see the point in heating the house during the day, despite it being 4 degrees outside and blustery. In the space of ten minutes it snowed, poured with rain, and shone with sun. I am glad I'm not a weather reporter in the Toronto area. Most of the rest of the country experiences normal Canadian weather: four seasons, heaps of snow in the winter and construction in the summer. What does Toronto get? An identity crisis. It wants to be warmer than everywhere else, and mostly it is, but it still wants good old fashioned Canadian weather. Together, these two things make for slushy, wet snow and drizzle. Head one hour north of the city and you enter proper weather and it's at least three degrees cooler at any given time.

It's quite lovely outside, when it isn't pelting freezing rain. I went out in it to deal with some student loan documents and then down to Metro Hall to contest my parking tickets. I had a lovely woman help me and got to write down exactly why I was contesting the tickets and she seemed to empathise. I got there just before the lunch hour rush, too. There were two people being served when I arrived and no one waiting before me. By the time I was done, just barely ten minutes later, there had to be a dozen people waiting. Good for me.

Mom was supposed to come to my house at 2pm today, but when I got home there was a message on my machine saying she would be late and that it was 1:30 and she was just leaving. Silly conference calls on her day off ! So, taking into account her departure time and the roads between Peterborough and Toronto in the middle of the day, she should have been here half an hour ago. I had been hoping to snag lunch with her before going to visit Julie together, but I guess we'll just head straight for the rehabilitation centre. It's hardly worth it, but I can't call her now. Rick's due at my house around 7pm to go to the trade show tonight and this just isn't going to work. I can't call him to say 'be late' because he still has no phone. It's irritating. And I can't call my mom, because she doesn't keep the car phone on and I don't even know its number. AND, she should be here very soon.

What did we do before we had phones? I don't suppose people found it annoying because what didn't exist they didn't want. And now, only 1% of Canadians are without a phone, Rick, presently among them. I don't really like phones, and with the exception of a few people I don't talk long on them, but it's at times like this when I realise their usefulness. I suppose I'll have to put a note asking forgiveness of Rick saying I'll be back at around 7pm, and hopefully he won't have to wait very long. Maybe, in lieu of Mom and I going to lunch, the three of us could go somewhere and have a nice dinner. That would be nice, but I had hoped for Mom time. I don't get to see her as much now, thanks to school, and obviously I can't cancel on Rick. Oh well. It will sort itself out. At least, for once, it's not my fault.

What a wonderful autumn day ! It's cool and crisp and lovely for walking about briskly with nasal drip. It's PERFECT. Or, it would have been perfect had I not woken up with a migraine thanks to a weather change that smells like snow, and cramps from the deepest pits of Hell. Needless to say, school was not an option, but I'm not unduly discouraged, because most of the afternoon was going to be a Photoshop tutorial, which chances are, I could have taught, or very nearly.

Anyway, I just went to the bank and ran some errands, my head having cleared somewhat. Ahhh, the bank: an unpleasant place, even if it is a nice branch. There's just something about banks that makes me cringe, something like my dislike of hospitals, only without the sterile medicine smell. It wasn't too bad, though, as I got one of the younger tellers, this one the young woman, rather than the guy I like, but she was more willing to bend rules than her older counterparts. I had her print out my account information, which is apparently not done, and as she handed me the slip of paper she leaned in and said quietly, "If you lose this, you can get into a LOT of trouble. Cut it up when you're done with it." I answered with a grin, "I'll burn it in the sink." Then I walked around in the perfect autumn weather, wind whipping up the curling yellow and brown leaves that now litter the streets, and mailed some letters and made some photocopies. I also made a quick visit to the kitchen wares store near my house and bought an espresso maker - finally ! Ever since I lived with Megan, I wanted one. Not for espresso, mind you, but for regular ground coffee. A six cup espresso maker brews two fine cups of coffee. If my head didn't hurt so much, I'd brew some up right now, finally opening the ground coffee that has been living in my freezer for over a year.

At the bank, I also had change made from a wrinkled old ten dollar bill, so that I can do my laundry tonight. What a concept, clean clothing ! If anything, it will be another excuse to go out into a perfect autumn night. Hallowe'en is coming, and this is the most appropriate weather I can think of. Nearly every Hallowe'en of my childhood was spent with 'unseasonably' cold weather and a chilling wind whistling between half naked trees and houses with radiators banging loudly to life. I don't understand how weather reports can still be calling the annual cold-snap that occurs at this time of the year 'unseasonable' when it clearly happens every year. Doesn't that make it completely seasonable? Anyway, it brings back memories of my costumes, made by Mom, with enough room inside to be put on over warm sweaters and even winter jackets. There's nothing quite so scary as a bunch of monsters wrapped up in parkas.

I just mentioned radiators, didn't I? Ahhh, I miss those. That's a comfort sound straight out of my childhood that I never get to hear any more. Most houses seem to be centrally heated now, with dusty air vents blowing dander around so that it lovingly coats the most hard-to-reach places in the house. You just can't curl up on a couch next to a heat vent and feel cozy the way you could next to a radiator. Cats don't sleep on air vents, it's not pleasant to have forced air fluttering tummy hair, but radiators were perfect spots, exactly cat-sized, and often, in the nicer homes, caged in elegantly perforated grills. In our old house on Avenue Road, there were radiators on either side of our sliding doors at the back of our dining room. Mom hung lace curtains in front of them to disquise their presence, but she was certainly not ashamed of their presence. Most days, it was a simple task to locate the cats, Misha and Placi, sleeping like a pair of widely spaced bookends, one on each radiator. But it was the ticking and clanging that I loved the most, signifying a living house, coming to life to keep its family warm, protecting it from the biting cold of winter.

It's a nice image, isn't it.

I hate setting out to do certain things and then not doing them. It's something of the story of my life, although something of my life also is me ending up doing many more things than I originally set out to do. Hah ! It all works out, then. Anyway, I woke up at 8:30am and looked out under my window blind and lo, the angel of the rain had come upon us. And the thunder of the Lord shone all around us. And Maya said unto the Lord, "Crap, it's raining." And she did turn over and sleep again, and it was good.

Except, she was supposed to go to Metro Hall and argue a pair of parking tickets. Oh well, Friday. There are 15 days in which to argue parking tickets, and Friday will be day 15. Handy. I was thinking about it, though, and everything else is business days, not including weekends. Then, when it comes to parking tickets, when they really want to fuck you, every day counts. I think that's crappy. For instance, my bank holds my cheques for anywhere between 10 to 30 BUSINESS days. How ridiculous is that?! Parking tickets include weekends, really, just to screw with us. I'd just pay the damn things, except I was parked legally, as in, BEHIND the sign that said permit holders only. And what's in my window? A permit. I suppose the cop might have considered the OTHER sign, some 25 feet away to rule over this sign, which I was clearly behind, but I think one sign rules out the other, especially with five car lengths between them. So, off to court I will go. Merrily. Ish.

I'm sort of thinking I won't bother going to Rocky Horror this Saturday. I have an awful lot of work to do, and since my favourite cast members retired last Hallowe'en, most of whom had been there since I started going nine years ago, I haven't had the desire to go. I said it last year, but it bears repeating. It is as though a massive portion of my life has passed and I must move on. And I have. I only said I would go because Nick asked me to in that puppy-dog sort of way. He's not even here ! He's visiting Evelyn out in the east. I asked Rick if that would bug him, if we didn't go, but he's pretty indifferent. Maybe I won't bother with a costume at all then. I'm too damn tired these days to be bothered by extracurricular silliness, fun though it is. God, could it be, I'm prioritising?

Naaah.

It's been a long day. I've been up since about 6:30am. I had to get up so very early because I was waylaid at Rick's last night. It was a nice evening, I must say, but an early morning in order for me to commute from his house to mine, and from mine to school. It's not terribly surprising that I'm so tired tonight. Actually, it's surprising because I'm NOT all that tired. I don't get me.

Techknight came over tonight with the intention of looking at my webpage files. Dreamweaver was apparently getting confused, and though I troubleshot it at length, I could not get it to work. It's working now, thanks to the talents of TK, and hopefully I won't forget how to make it continue to work. TK never just comes over to fix my computer, though, no siree, he comes to eat hearty dinners of Indian and Thai repast, and to watch the ever important anime. He has more anime floating around his appartment than anyone I know. That says quite a bit, as well, since I am surrounded by animeholics. Scary people, they are. Er. Doh !

We watched the Cowboy Bebop movie, ahhh, the sweet joys of fansubbing, and it was FANTASTIC. Oh my goodness, it was delicious. We tried to figure out where in the series timeline the movie would fit, and ended up deciding that it had to be in the first half of the series. Who cares? It's fantasy, right? Fudging timelines are easily accpeted so long as the stories are good, and the art is stylish and, well, sharp. As usual, the sound-track rocks. I don't mean of anime in particular, though many recent series have had some sharp musical scores, but Cowboy Bebop is just beautifully scored, at least as good as the writing, art and timing. And such a stylish piece, too. I think I may have said that. If not, well, I'll say it again at some other point. I am a big fan of stylish, well written, well scored anime, and well, most animation from where ever in the world it comes. Animation is wonderful. It makes me remember that people don't all suck, and that so long as creativity remains, and people are allowed to think beyond the status quo, the world cannot possibly spiral into the pit of despair that it often seems to be heading. Imagination is a gift.

It's much too late to start a rant about the ills of the world, and the wonders of imagination, though, so perhaps I'll move on.

Nick is leaving for most of a week as of tomorrow. He's going to visit Evelyn out in Nova Scotia, and though I will miss him, it's not like he's going to be in stinky Chicago for three months. Phew. I'd hate for that to happen again. I suppose while he is gone, I'll have to do my Maya homework alone. Bah, sometimes I think I get more done without him around, though he certainly clears my head and shows me wonderous new ways of doing. Also, I have so much fun when we get together for tutorial sessions ! But all this eating with my friends will (if not already) make me fat. While he's gone, I'll be attending the Everything To Do With Sex show down at the exhibition grounds with Rick. We got VIP passes for it, which makes me question whether this makes us Very Important People, sexually speaking, or merely attendance-wise. How do you determine who is a VIP? I could make a tasteless joke about giving head to someone, but in that this has to do with a massive sex trade show, I'll just leave it at that, and let you think of it for yourselves. Oh ! Naughty, you ! Tsk. Dirty minds, all of you. Disgusting. I'm going to bed while you all take cold showers.

Well, class has been interesting up to this point (this point being lunch time), as we've been discussing rendering scenes. Lighting is interesting, you know? When we look around at things, we don't really notice how much lighting affects EVERYthing. For instance, it's not just light that bounces off every surface, but colour, too. Of course, colour is part of light, but we don't think of it. So, I set my green pen on a page of white paper, and the flourescent lights make everything bright, and then I look at my pen and realise that it causes a faint green hue to reflect off of it within its shadow on the paper. That's COOL. Light is cool.

What a dumb comment. Light is cool. Actually, it's bright, but nevermind.

Later, we're going to get into groups (oooo, group work) and work on a project that spoofs a movie of our choice. We have to storyboard it, and lay it down on paper before we start creating the structures and characters, or even think about animating it. As a group, we might actually be able to pull it off. Mostly, the class struggles on an individual level, but together, we smooth out the suckage bumps and fill in the holes with collective knowledge.

Speaking of knowledge, I got back my questionaire that I finally handed in yesterday (just a little late), and was pleasantly stunned. I got an amazing mark of 81% on it, which is 13% better than I did on the first questionaire two weeks ago. Daniele, my instructor, had nice things to write on it: "You know more than you think, or assume you know..." Hey, good things.

And so, out of the ether and into a server comes my fancy new weblog. I refuse to call it a 'blog' as it sounds just too -uh- for words. I'm pretty excited about it, really, and hope I don't lose interest in it. I lose interest in things so quickly. Always have. Let us hope, then, that interest herein remains !

Right now I'm listening to a magazine sampler CD from some wacky German music mag. It's all dark/mystic electronica, so, I suppose I could call it 'gothic' music, or something, but let's not limit ourselves, hm? I like the album a lot, and it has some good stuff on it by artists like Front Line Assembly (I'd forgotten all about them for a while) and Icekalt. The thing is, though, it's got these three songs on it that have based their melodies entirely on songs already in existence. Now, I realise that there is a long history of people using different words to someone else's music, take, for instance, Christmas Carols: Carols are only the words, music didn't come into it, which is why you find so many carols based on music already in existence, or even sharing the same melody as another carol. Anyway, digression !

I will give examples of the songs I mean. First there is this song entitled "Shared Creation" by a band named Garden of Delight (great name, by the way, conjuring up images of 16th century Dutch and German allagorical works of art...), and it's a good song. The thing is, it is very much based on a song by The Cure. Sadly, my memory for names is worse than my attention span, and I don't remember exactly which song it is. But if you listen to "Shared Creation" and are at least familiar with the more commonly played Cure pieces, it will come to you, and you'll end up humming it in harmony. Really ! The second song to 'borrow' from previously published music on this very same album is "Do You Dream in Colours" by Tors of Dartmoor. Of all the odd places to find gothic inspiration... Nirvana? Anyway, it is based in "Smells Like Teen Spirit". Not kidding. And finally, the third song to be someone else's on the album, at least as far as I can tell, is actually 'borrowing' from two different songs. Not just a little bit different, a LOT. There's a story behind it, so let me tell you.

The song in question, "Everything is Broken" by a band called Second Sight, is the last track on this particular album, and it therefore lingers in one's head. This proved to be very irritating. I was at work and I was listening to the album and as "Everything is Broken" started playing, I began to hum along. It took me a moment to realise this, and I put the song on repeat in order to figure out what I had been humming, because it wasn't the song. The first bit was easy to figure out. The song's intro is unmistakably "With or Without You" by U2, yes, even the bassline, though having differing lyrics.

For the second bit, once the song picked up, it was the lyric melody that began to drive me batty. I could hum it. I would hum it and think I almost remembered what it was. When my employer came into the store, I made her listen and it drove her crazy too. She said, "It's 80s, definitely... I'm thinking maybe Depeche Mode." I disagreed. I would know. I live Mode. "A-ha, maybe?" she asked. I thought maybe, but not quite, though there was something about the straining upper register of a male voice singing two octaves too high that seemed right. Rick came in a while later, and I was more frustrated and still confused, and I made him listen. He got a blank look on his face and nodded at the familiarity, but he, too, could not place it.

Sometime later, back at home, I made Adina, my housemate's girlfriend listen to it too, and it kept her from doing her biology homework, poor girl. And she so dearly loves her biology homework. I was talking to my mother on the phone sometime later than that, in lieu of me doing MY homework, and the stupid melody was still cycling its way through my head. As we talked, images from way back when I was in grade eight kept circling through my head. Now, I didn't much love grade eight, and certainly not the people that kept popping into my brain, and they did it in time to the tune. I put down the phone and concentrated on the images. They were from the grad video I worked on (yes, I was an audio-visual nerd) and I realised they were a particular sequence that ran under one particular song. THE song.

You have to wonder about any dark electronic band that rips off Alphaville's "Forever Young", you know? Pretty wacky, I say, but mystery solved.