I got so many things done, today. Goodness, considering I woke up so late in the day, I've rather surprised myself. I had a leisurely breakfast and whatnot, before heading out into the bleakness of late November, and I must add, that though it was a sucky day, it was still warm. Really, it's been overly warm since just before Hallowe'en. Seems weird, but as we all know, living in Canada makes for weird weather. Anyway, I went to my bank and got my loan documents filled in, then headed for the post outlet at the UofT Koffler Centre. I stopped at She Said Boom, a lovely second-hand books and records store where the staff is knowledgeable and pleasant - not snotty like so many other places. I bought a book there which will make a lovely present (therefore I won't discuss the book's content) and the fellow at the counter (I think it was the owner) said as he gave me my change, "Wait, no, I want this book. Find a different one of equal or lesser value !" And I wrestled it out of his hands. Then we chatted for a while.

After handing in my documents at the Koffler Centre and buying leads for my 0.7mm pencils, which have all been suffering from lack-of-leadedness lately, and a new mechanical 0.5mm pencil, I continued along College St until Henry St. I turned south and then strolled along Baldwin and had some tasty food from the Chinese Dim Sum pastry shop. Then I made my way through the winding sidestreets to City Hall to renew my parking permit. They were setting up for the Cavalcade of Lights with people skating on the mushy ice and people in costumes being merry with glo-sticks. There were all these crafty shopping booths, which I'll return to because there were some nice handmade ornaments. It was merry. If it had been cold and snowy, it would have been better. I went to the Snail - the Silver Snail, that is - and bought myself the reissue of Akira 1-6, and further presents. Then I went to Heretic and helped Nicole and Sandra make gift baskets and to set up for the heavy leather display coming in tomorrow. I stayed late, and Sandra's going to make me a furry sweater. I'm pleased.

Now I'm home and am waiting for Ryan to drop by at this late hour to go for a coffee. He seems needing to talk or something, so I will oblidge. I haven't seen him in a dog's breakfast - er, AGE - anyway, so he deserves some attention. Toodles.

Well, it sure is nice to sleep in, and boy, did I do just that. Wow. I woke up to make coffee for Rick, who had to get to work nice and early this morning, and then I went back to bed. I set my alarm for 10:30am and turned it off when it sounded. I woke up again around 11:30am considered getting up and then rolled over and slept some more. I didn't finally get out of bed until a quarter to one in the afternoon, which, I must admit, was most pleasant, especially with a sweet bundle of loving fur rolled up behind my knee. I love my cat. Willi is a little destructive heathen at times, but she's so sweet and so cuddly at others. This morning, she was definitely cuddly. I'd rather lie with her and listen to the rain than get up and go out into it.

Of course, I do have to go out into it. Naturally. I have to go to the bank and get information about my account (again) and then take my OSAP forms to the post office at UofT for mailing. Then I'm off down to City Hall to renew my parking permit, and then onto Queen St. to do a little Christmas shopping. I just wish it would stop raining. I hate shlepping around the city on foot, with a big umbrella in my hand.

Last night with Rick over, it was very nice. I made a lovely dinner of steak and beef stroganoff with green beans, and then we went and bought cookies to have with our after-dinner coffee. I recently bought an espresso maker, which incidentally, makes awesome regular coffee to a maximum of two cups, and I even had ground coffee in my freezer. So, that was quite tasty. And domestic, hey, ya. Gosh, tie an apron around my waist and give me an Esay Bake Oven and watch me go ! Heh, no, don't. Also, I wish to say that there are few things in this world as pleasant as cuddling with one's significant other. Rick's a good guy, and ofttimes a cuddly one as well. I like him.

Yesterday was a day of weird feelings. I don't quite know what that means, but let me explain.

It was a pretty busy day at the store, in comparison to the utter lack of busy that has been plaguing it for the last two weeks. There weren't the throngs of people out walking on the street that there usually are, maybe because it was cold out, but half of the people that came in the store, actually bought something. Not bad.

I was pleased by a fellow who walked down the street in a sort of self-percussive way. He had a big drum strapped to his front, which he banged away on in a very merry sort of fashion. He also had a cowbell that he used almost like an exclamation point. Someone must have looked out a window at him because he did a sort of drum-solo serenade and waved up to the windows above store level. It was nice. I liked him.

Having people in the store made me feel sort of peppy, which was enjoyable, and there were no unpleasant people to speak of. There was one very gorgeous woman who came in, looking stylish yet conservatively sharp, and she gravitated to the bondage collars on the shelf. In response to a question she asked, I said, "I really don't know, I'm not into binding my neck." She smiled this amazingly alluring smile, tossed her perfect salon auburn hair and said, "You have to start small and work your way up. Start with a corset, and soon enough, you'll be binding your neck and other parts, too." And then she left the store. She made me feel sort of confused.

Then Nick met me at the store around closing time, and we went to Java. Naturally. There simply is no other place where you can get good food with excellent coffee for under eight bucks. I had the omelette (with hashbrowns, a side salad, and toast) with a big fat cafe au lait. YUM. And that made me feel warm and fuzzy.

While we were there, once we'd finished dinner, we set about doing all sorts of bizarre and silly things in order to attempt to attract the waiter. I taught Nick how to hang a spoon from his nose, and we made lots of noise, and then he started taking off his clothes. TO NO AVAIL. It was like we were invisible. Bah. Finally we just asked for the bill.

We left the restaurant and I remembered that I hadn't put out the store garbage. But I decided to fuck it because it was really cold and I was already losing feeling in my thighs. Canadian Winter Tip #76: DO NOT wear polyester pants in freezing weather without the protection of long underwear and/or a long coat. Brr. Not putting out the garbage made me feel sort of half-assed, which in that situation I guess I was (and I don't mean the fact that I couldn't feel part of my bum).

Nick came over and of course we watched "West Wing" and naturally it was good. It really focused on CJ, giving her a depth we the viewers are only left to puzzle over. What happened in her past to make her feel so strongly about abuse? Always a well-written show.

Then I spoke to Rick and he was bored and I didn't want to talk to him because his blah-ness started to suck away my pep. He was at the boredom stage where he was utterly unreceptive to suggestion for how to amuse himself. No, he didn't want to read. He didn't want to write. He didn't want to be creative in any sort of way, and I didn't feel patient enough to continue the conversation. Sorry Rick, for me being poopy. *smooch*

Nick was a pest. He's always trying to stick his fingers in my mouth, or my ears, or to lick my eyeballs... Nick is gross. I guess I wasn't patient with him either and I started to suggest that he leave some time around midnight. It took another hour to actually get him to go. I was very tired by that point and had lost all sense of fun.

Like I said, it was a bizarre feelings day.

Today, at school, I continue to feel odd. My head hurts, which I blame on the server whirring in the back of the room, and the general electrical buzz. I hate those sounds. Since they located the server in this room, a few weeks back, and combined with the flourescent lighting, the room has become a lot less pleasant to be in. My eyebrows feel heavy with an un-headache, as in, I don't want to take painkiller because I'm not in pain, but my head feels gucky. I feel sort of hostile, too. Not good. Okay, I just took some tylenol. I'll feel better soon.

I'm going to make dinner for Rick, tonight, which hopefully will be nice, since I'm not really going to see much of him over the next while. School is about to kick my ass, if I don't get down with my project. Know what I'm saying?

Yeah.

Uh, ya.

My head hurts and I'm not sure why, though it is supposed to rain later. Yay.

I had dinner with Nick last night, and it was good - sushi - and then he came over. I'm afraid we didn't do as much work as we ought to have, but whatever, I bleached out half my head and now I look harvesty. In fact, stick some Indian corn into it and some pinecones and an apple or two and I'd be the perfect ornament for any front door. Rick probably won't like it, because I'm partially blonde now, and he has a thing against blondes, but I'll turn it red soon enough.

Nick also got bleached and then looked even more like some 80s pop music king (or queen?) than he did before. He is thinking of growing his hair into a ska mohawk, which will look bizarre, I think, but probably cool.

I came to school late today, only to find the class watching 'Wallace and Gromit' short movies, so I don't feel too bad, though they're so delightful I sort of wish I'd seen more... not that I haven't seen it on television, or anything. And now I'm working on Alloisius' head - I've just converted it from NURBs to polys and am fixing up his isos and points. It's a little tedius, but it's nice to see his personality coming out. There isn't a lot of time left for me to work on him, but I figure, if I can get the model finished by Saturday, and the skeleton set-up by Tuesday next week, I'll be doing really good. I'm not sure how I'll do his clothing, but I'll probably keep it minimal. I'll have to figure out his cloak, which he'll have to throw off his shoulders, and the moving curtain behind him, but I'll work on those once he's all done. His stage set is pretty good right now, needs some work and playing with, but I'll pull this off.

I will. *grin* I hope Rick will understand that he's not going to see much of me until the campus closes for the holiday.

Hm, my headache has become nausea, too. This is unpleasant. Oh well. Back to work.

My bad. I did say fetus, and what I meant to say was EMBRYO. There's a difference, albeit no less disturbing as far as I'm concerned, despite all the good things one can apparantly do with embryonic hoo-hah.

Anyway, I remembered what it was that I'd meant to say yesterday. They showed "The Phantom Menace" on TV yesterday, which isn't exactly that exciting, and I didn't bother watching, though the three times I flipped past it I managed to catch Darth Maul in action. It's my Ray(Park)-dar, I suppose. Anyway, the amusing thing about it was who was sponsoring the broadcast.

On the Canadian channel, SW:TPM was sponsored by the Sony Playstation 2. On the American channel, it was sponsored by the Microsoft X-box. Frankly, I'm not all there with the X-box hype. Sure, the textures rock, but as far as I'm concerned, with my extensive experience with both systems (I -am- being sardonic), I still prefer the PS2. So, uh, ya, that's it. Pretty lame, I suppose. Sorry.

Man, you just don't get content like this anywhere, do you? We go from cloning to video game systems in just a few sentences.

Somebody, please, move me to the core so that I can write something profound.

They did it, those bastards. They did it and they're proud. It was reported today that a privately funded medical science research company cloned a human fetus. Yes. That's right. A human fetus. Cloned. I heard this while driving down my street looking for parking and my stomach turned. I had to keep from throwing up between my knees. You see, in the U.S.A., it's illegal in for a publically funded medical agency to carry out any testing of such a nature (nature is the wrong word here, I think), which is why a private company was able to do it and get away with it.

Normally, I get a little excited about amazing medical feats, but I find nothing exciting about cloning. I think of eugenics programmes and have flashbacks to Huxley's distopian novel "Brave New World". It bugs the shit out of me. If we were suposed to be God, we wouldn't be human. I have a friend who would argue that perhaps humanity is its own god, and that's well and good, and proabably debatable, but nonetheless, I do not think humans have the right to dictate how evolution works. Evolution has been perfecting itself here on Earth for billions of years. The first protozoa evolved. Eventually something breathed in air for the first time. A plant learned it didn't have to be eaten and instead could eat its predators. Humans stood upright. Evolution is cool, and it knows what it's doing.

STOP FUCKING WITH IT.

I think there was other stuff I'd planned to write about today, but for some reason, that is all that I can think of. It totally bothers me. I can't help but envision the metaphorical door - or perhaps, Pandora's box - opening. Only, instead of all sorts of horrible things coming through, I see us entering into a room we weren't supposed to be in.

Not Pandora's Box... no.

Something much more disturbing.

Bluebeard's Castle.

Oh me, oh my. I'm awake. Sort of. In class, and arrived only 10 minutes late (not too shabby), and not absorbing anything. We just learned about fur. I don't think I learned anything. I can't even figure out where the menu for fur is. Pathetic.

I discovered a site thanks to my disturbed friends at the Sith Academy and it provided me with at least seven minutes of quality time-wasting. I'll pass it along for your amusement, now shall I? Go to title.flywheel.org to get yourself a new title that replaces your old one, or perhaps you've never had one in the first place.

My two favourite titles, both sort of appropriate, were:

"Marquise of The Left Side of Procrastination, Maya Rebecca Hirschman"

"Princess of Breastseses, Maya Rebecca Hirschman"

The first one is definitely better, in that it sums up my ego, my political bent, and my favourite pass-time all in one go. I couldn't have said it better, myself.

My stay-at-home date with Rick last night was quite nice. He prepared a veritable feast ! I arrived (late, of course) to a pair of candles lighting his living room coffee table, fully set, with a shrimp ring in the centre. Following the shrimp, which was sooooo tasty, he brought out a soup course, and then after that the main course was fettucini (spelling anyone?) alfredo. Then we lounged about all snuggly-like for a while, until he got dessert of peaches in vanilla pudding. We would have had wine, as well, but the corkscrew he'd bought was ineffectual, bending all out of shape when I tried to open the wine.

At this point I'll fade to black and move onto another subject.

I'm going to drop by Julie's house after school today to show off some lovely photographs I took at Chris and Amy's wedding, and then Mom (who will be there) and I are going to have a cheap and delicious dinner at St Hubert. Following that, I'm going home to play with Techknight's X-box. That sounds dirty. It's going to be a long, but decidedly good day, I think.

Tonight I'm going to Rick's for a stay-at-home date. He's asked me to pick out some jazz to bring, and he's bought wine and a shrimp ring. It's going to be a lovely, romantic evening. At least I hope so ! He's unfortunately a little under the weather due to a bit of excessive drinking last night, which actually made him leave work early today (naughty), but hopefully he'll be alright.

I, too, did a bit of drinking last night, but not quite so much as him, or perhaps I did, but I guess maybe I paced myself and rehydrated better. Also, I stayed up late on the phone with my friend Adam who lives in New Orleans and therefore sobered right up. Anyway, we weren't out together, obviously. I went to Nadine's birthday party which was held at SpaHa under the hideous Graduate House at Spadina and Harbord. I'd never been there before, and you know? It was DAMN good, even if the alcohol was a little over priced. The food was terrific and the waitress was delightful.

It was a nice mix of people, as well. I felt a little trepidation, I must say, knowing that there would be few people there that I knew, but then I remembered that these were all Nader's friends and she wouldn't count pompous dinks among them. Sure enough, while there was a little natural polarisation, mostly everyone mingled and mixed nicely. I had some enjoyable conversations with singers from the choir she's in, with her cousin, a friend from her work, and a few people that I did loosely know from back in university. It was good fun.

Then I came home and cleaned myself up (as in my make-up), put on my night gown and crawled into bed from where I called Adam. He was the guy that addicted me to Realms of Despair three years ago - more, now, I suppose. He and I haven't spoken in a very long time. We used to talk on the phone about once a month, sharing the expenses between us. This one was on me, so he'd better shell out for the next one. Anyway, it was great to hear his voice.

Anyway, now I must look about for my notes on patch modeling NURBs, as my brain has missed a step, or more likely two.

Maybe things are changing, or perhaps since the events of the past few months, I'm looking at life in new and wonderful ways, but, for the third time in a row, I've come back from a stupendous film. Again, utterly magical. This one leaves the two previous films in the dust, I must say. There's just something about an amazingly well written, directed, and acted movie that just happens to star real people, and that is not aimed at children.

You guessed it, no Hollywood film can do it. "Amelie" is a French flick and it really is as good as the critics claim. So, what's it about? Well, let me give you a very brief synopsis. It's about a girl, Amelie, who just decides one day that she's going to change the world around her. And she does. It's funny, at times hysterically so, romantic, poignant, and at a number of moments a little dark. That's enough. Go see it yourself, you lazy bum.

It was a bizarre evening, though, all over. Nick and I made the decision to go uptown to see it at the most vintagely excellent Eglinton Theatre, to which neither of had been in at least three years. Longer than that, for me. I haven't been inside that marvelous old vaudeville house since we lived in the neighbourhood... um... six years ago. Anyway, I digress. We parked on Julie's street and trotted off to the theatre for the 9:45pm show only to find that it was closed because the film broke. So, we chatted with a nice, middle-yeared waspy couple who were disappointed too, and then we made the decision to see it at the Cucumberland (Cumberland, really) theatre in Yorkville with all the pretentious art fags and wannabes. (Yes, I said the word 'fag' and I didn't mean cigarette. Bad me.) You never see so many black turtlenecks and three-quarter-length coats anywhere as you do in Yorkville.

We parked on the street and then popped into Greg's Ice Cream for a burger. Hah hah, no, actually, we got ice cream. Duh, silly. It's the best ice cream in Toronto, easily. We shared it as we walked down the street to the theatre. As we crossed the street, Nick paused and looked up Avenue Rd to a fellow in a knee-length winter coat (very 1950s) and said, "Is that...?" I said, "Hm? Who?" He said, "Caley." I looked. It was the same fellow who'd stood next to me just a second earlier waiting for the light to change. The walk was familiar. I said, "I dunno, let's go find out."

We had to run to catch up, too, because this fellow in his long film-studentesque coat was marching up the street at a rapid pace (because he knew it was us, most likely). I stopped running and walked directly behind him until he realised it and turned around. He did a double take and sort of yelped. My first thought upon seeing him was, "Wow, that's some nasty pathetic facial hair." He looks not so hot, sort of skinny-like, wan even, kind of like he smokes too much and drinks too much and probably does too much heroine. Scary, really, and by no means is there any basis for that assumption, except that he looked unwell. And then we all hugged like we ... uh... liked each other.

For the record, Caley, who had been one of my favourite people through highschool and then my boyfriend for some months, turned out to be a hurtful, nasty small dog of a man. It wasn't enough to dump me the way he did, and then to behave so badly afterward, but he was the one largely responsible for the period when Nick stopped talking to me. It took about a year before Nick realised that it wasn't the "crazy, fucking bitch" but her exboyfriend that he didn't want to be around. It was bad and there was a lot of sadness as close friendships fell apart.

So, there he was, and there we were, and we all hugged like it was natural. And then we rounded the corner and there was Marie-Claire, one of the people I'd socialised with loosely in highschool, and not one of my favourite people. It wasn't that I didn't like her, and I did try, but I suppose our auras repelled, or something. Anyway, he's dating her, which sort of puts a wrench in the theory that had been circulating concerning his gender preference, but then again, maybe not. Anyway, I couldn't fake liking her. I don't. I never did. And, to her credit, she didn't try either. Good for her.

We were able to escape them after that, buying our tickets and entering the theatre. Joyously, "Amelie" made for a perfect distraction. I had been saying for a few weeks that I was going to run into Caley, and lo, I did. Wacky. But the shock passed quickly and we saw a truly remarkable film, and had a lovely and magical time. (All this magic, I almost forget that it's November !) And it was a wonderful crisp evening full of steamy breath and people out walking briskly.

And when I look at my past, and what I've come from, who I've recovered from, and compare it to where I am now, and who I've become, I am thankful. The world does indeed seem a most amazing place.

For the second day in a row or, more to the point, for the second time I was on my way to school in a row, I was inadvertantly escorted by motorcycle cops. I can only assume (and we know what that makes us) that they were on their way to the big funeral home en route to Seneca. As nice as it would be to believe they were clearing -my- path, I somehow doubt it.

Also, on the way to school, I noticed for the first time a church with an extraordinary name. I kid you not when I say it was St. Chad's Anglican. Chad? CHAD? Is he the patron saint of surfers, or what?

I talked a long time with my Mom last night. While she likes reading my weblog, she admitted that she still wants proper letters in her inbox. I hadn't thought about this possibility as, when I created this, it was in part to cut down on my letter-writing because I have a lot less time these days. Before starting this weblog, I wrote long mass-mails, but a bunch of my friends erase all bulk mail and for some reason, my bcc function usually doesn't often work. Perhaps I'll look into getting a comments option for people to write directly back to me, though I might just be inviting abuse from dumbass flamers. If that becomes the case, I suppose I can just drop the commentary option.

Perhaps I'll discuss the feasibility of this with Nick. He would know.

I just found the most incredible thing in someone's garbage. I'd have ignored the stuff entirely, had not some other woman been rooting through the boxes of magazines as well. I mean, it's raining out, so magazines get sort of gross, but I stopped and dug through some of the stuff and you'll never guess what I found.

I found a pictorial history of Churchill published in 1965. The best part of it is its inscription, which is only slightly blurred by being set out in the rain. (No book should be abandoned to autumnal rains, it's sad.) "Maya Gunter . c/c D.V.A. WUA. Veteran . Toronto Canada . 1965"

MAYA? Okay, admittedly, it could say Moya, and probably does, but if compared to the Os in Toronto, she doesn't put the the little tails on the top which makes it look more like her As. Anyway, imagine my surprise when picking through some random trash, I come across a book inscribed with my name? This is what makes this the coolest garbaging adventure I've ever had.

Oh, and if you're wondering about the previous post, I have had that particular poem running through my head all day, or parts of it, and I finally dug the text up on the internet. It's possibly one of my favourite poems. Overwrought romanticism and all (that and the evocative description are what I like best, I suppose). What surprises me about 'The Highwayman', though is that it was published in 1907, or thereabouts, which makes it a modern poem, not the Georgian piece people seem to think it is.

And now you know.

The Highwayman



The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding -
Riding - riding -
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace
at his chin,
A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to
the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark
inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was
locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlords daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable wicket creaked
Where Tim the hostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like moldy hay,
But he loved the landlords daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say -
"One kiss, my bonnie sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red coat troop came marching -
Marching - marching -
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of then knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the muzzle beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say -
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I will come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing: she would not strive again;
For the road laid bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her lovers refrain.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her beast in the moonlight and warned him - with her death.

He turned; he spurred to the Westward; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter
The landlords black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With white road smoking behind him, and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

And still of a winters night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding-
Riding - riding -
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlords black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlords daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Alfred Noyes (1880-1958)

Unseasonably warm. Two words that don't even begin to describe what it was like today. I wore my trenchcoat with only a scarf wrapped loosely around my neck, and certainly no sweater or gloves. It was nice. And odd, especially for the Santa Claus Parade. I mean, traditionally, the parade ought to be rained on, or snowed on, or a little of both, temperatures should have been around 3C and the little whippersnappers were supposed to be in tears before it even started.

Not so today. Anyway, the parade made business a little slow today, because really, the only people downtown were the suburban families with parents in their mid to late 30s that haven't been down on Queen Street since little Junior and Jilly were born. Then they drag their four year olds into the store, who try to grab everything, and ask questions about the most hard-to-explain items (like floggers and posture collars) and then try on a lot of things, with the husband turning a shade of red he hasn't been since before the kidlets were born and the wife giggling like an idiot. Believe me when I say that this scene played itself out at least five times today and it never got less disturbing.

I took advantage of the beautiful temperature (once the crowds had dissipated) and walked along Queen to University and up to the rehabilitation centre where Julie is staying. She and Tania had just returned from a trip home and dinner and Julie was in wonderfully fine form. She was so excited to see me that she called out for the woman in the neighbouring bed to come meet me. And then the two of them fluttered about my outfit, which was apparently a hit. Not bad for a seven year old lace skirt, I suppose. Anyway, that was very cute. Julie was being proud of me. In return for that, I made her do tricks. She is now able to wiggle her left foot and leg - the one that had been paralysed by the stroke - and I got to flutter about it.

Julie is doing so well, it's just wonderful. It's especially wonderful because shortly after the stroke happened, we all feared that she would die. She can't really remember any of the iffy months in Sunnybrook, thankfully, because they were miserable, the hallucinations and ranting, the tears and the prayers. It was awful. God, did she hate it there. Happily, she loves the rehab centre and they treat her like a person. Moreover, the physiotherapists think she may well be able to walk again, though probably with an aid of some sort, and the way she's looking right now, I wouldn't doubt it. Next week she'll be doing an over-night stay at home, which should be wonderful. I hope it all goes well. Maybe she'll be able to spend Christmas Eve and Day at home, too. That would be a miracle.

I just remembered this bizarre dream I had last night. I had a lot of trouble sleeping and I was in a sort of semi dream state for most of the time when I wasn't wide awake. Again, a sort of magical experience.

In my dream, I'm visiting Juliane at her farm. I haven't been out there in years so my recollections are entirely based on my visits when I was 14 and 15 years old. I'm lying in bed - one of the tall guest beds - only I'm not alone in it. Juli's older brother Steve is with me and it's a tight fit. He and I are just lying there, talking about life. It's as though it was a completely normal place to hold a discussion, no more odd than the TV room or kitchen table.

The stuff we were talking about was entirely relating to real life. We talked about my schooling and his work (or lack thereof). He talked at length about his experiences in Mexico and about his insecurities for future employment. I talked about what some of the engineering students I was in residence with are doing now. We just talked and talked. He talked about his concerns for his family and for Juliane, and about his fiancee (I don't even know if he's engaged, or hell, whether he's married or not). I told him about my mom and about Rick, and I talked about my aspirations for the future. He invited me to his wedding. This whole conversation lasted an hour or more in dream-time.

Then Juli came into the room and told us that John (her and Steve's dad) was back with a video if we wanted to come watch. That was it. It was one of those dreams where you almost expect the other person to have had it too because it was so coherant and conversation-like. So much so, that I think I'll ask Juli to ask him.

Man, I want to visit them. Maybe in December since school closes up completely after the 16th, or something. It would be nice.

Magic is in the air ! It's not often you hear that in mid-November, I suppose, at least not in Toronto, but this weekend the air is alive with it.

First of all, it's unseasonably warm. They're calling for 17 degrees tomorrow (which for the unmetrically minded, is about 64) and even today, at 10 degrees, we're pleased. It's been this way all week. It was warm enough on Wednesday for me to open the door to the shop, but I closed it soon after do to the poopy smell on Queen St.

Secondly, "Harry Potter and the Phiolosopher's Stone" opened yesterday to much aclaim, and of course, I had tickets to go see it. I wasn't in the right head-space at all, as my migraine had gotten progressively worse all day, so when we left the house, I left my cloak behind. You have to be in the mood for cloak wearing if you don't do it often, and last night was not the right night. We were all excited about the Episode II trailer that was supposed to run in front of "Potter" as well, but, strangely enough, they didn't run it. Ryan whined and grumbled through most of the feature and I must say, I was rather disappointed. We figure it was because we saw the film on the IMAX screen that there was some clause in Lucas' whatever that it had to be shown on a typical Famous Players screen. Whatever it was, we were disappointed, though I'll just download it from the 'net sometime in the next couple of days.

I wasn't disappointed for long, mind you, as "Potter" opened. Oh. My. Goodness. It was FANTASTIC. By about twenty minutes in, I'd forgotten my headache and the queasiness brought on by a few too many tylenol and prescription medication. Not only was it full of magic thanks to the story and such, but it was a completely delightful, magical production. The cast was full of British actors (thankfully), among them, Maggie Smith and Alan Rickman. The children were charming and perfectly cast for the roles they were filling, and the professors were splendid. I'm afraid I don't do names well, but all three leads, Harry, Ron and Hermione, were superb - and genuinely lovely in the way that all too many children aren't. Snape (Rickman) was awesome, as were McGonagal (Smith) and Dumbledore (bah, I forget his name, but he played Maximus in 'Gladiator'). Also, whoever the giant was that played Hagrid was perfect and lovely. I couldn't help but wonder if he was the same fellow that played Christmas Present in the George C. Scott "A Christmas Carol". It's hard to say, enormous, bushy haired giants being something of an archetype.

Rick didn't like it, and maybe his claim that the film left holes that would have been filled had he read the book is true. Of course, I can't offer sympathy, as the book has been on my shelf for most of the time we've been going out. He is probably right, though, and that is a failing of the screenwriter, or possibly the director if scenes were cut, but having read the book, despite a few omissions, I thought it was fantastic.

Tonight, the magic continues as the old crew sits down to play some table-top D&D for the first time in forever. Rick will be joining us for the first time, too, which should be fun. We're a big, but dedicated, group and hopefully we'll have tons of fun. I'm bringing back one of my old (OLD) characters, Velkyn Dalharil, a deliciously unpleasant drow devoted to Vhaeraun. I have been playing her online for a year, or slightly more, which has been fun, but back in highschool she'd been one of my main table-top characters. I'm going back in time for this incarnation of her, too, as I've set Ryan's campaign early in her life on the Surface. Even more fun is the fact that it's a water campaign and as many people know: Drow. Do. NOT. Do. Water.

Let us hope that the magic continues !

Uhg, two days in a row when I've woken up with driving headaches. I called out of the ROM this morning. The last place I would ever want to be with a driving headache is doing data entry at the ROM. Horrible. Well, maybe being at a construction site would be worse, but I'll avoid both if at all possible.

I'm going to see "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" tonight, which is terribly exciting. I suppose I'd be more excited without the head pain, but what can you do? Hopefully by the time the movie rolls around, the pain will have subsided somewhat. I'm going to wear my cloak. I haven't worn it in at least a year, possibly more, so I think it would be a darn good idea. Cloaks suggest magic, right?

I was thinking about "Fellowship of the Ring" too, and how much I want to go in 'garb'. I'm going to make a nice black tunic and bring my riding boots back to Toronto, find some black tight pants (see, I should have bought black breeches ever so long ago, but nooOOooo) and that will be a darn good start. I'll probably wear a puffy shirt under the tunic, too, just for fun. Then there are my fancy arm guards that need an airing... And of course, to top it all off, I'll wear my cloak. It will rock.

Speaking of clothes, since I'm home today and only mildly functional (really that's only a little worse than normal), I guess I'll do my laundry. I didn't do it last night because I was 'grainey. Uhg. A head ! A head ! My kingdom for a head !

I'm covered in hair ! Hah ! No, sillies, not my own hair, I'm covered in Nick's hair. Oh my God, that sounds wrong. Let me explain before you run off ! Please !

I cut Nick's hair tonight. It was getting all long and... well, long, for Nick's standards, anyway. Personally, it looked good, but who can argue with the owner of the head. I think the whole concept was begun when we were walking back to my house after eating (he now comes over in order to watch "West Wing" because it rocks) and we stopped quickly at Shoppers Drug Mart. I tried to find hair bleach of the sort that one mixes oneself, as it is infinitely cheaper (well, not infinitely but by several dollars), so as to make the red hair colour I was buying stand out so much more. Unfortunately, the store had no mix-it-yourself so I only picked out the red.

We got home and watched TV for a while and Becca dropped by and that was fun. She looks SO Yonge & Eglinton these days since that's where she's working now. See, she didn't grow up there, so she sees how wonderful and young and eligible the neighbourhood is, and I suppose I understand, but well... Meh. Anyway, we slashed ST:TNG again, because it's so easy, but not too badly because it's one of our favourite 'prime directive' episodes, "Who Watches the Watchers?" from the third season. **GEEK ALERT GEEK ALERT**

Then I cut his hair. Hah ! It was excellent, partially because I abandoned the comb in favour of my fingers, and I used slightly rusted paper scissors that did time in the kitchen. I didn't fuck it up, which is probably the most amazing thing ! In fact, he turned out to be a super music star from the '80s and has now redirected his creative resolve to turn Chickdrummer into a proper band. Well, at least for now. We slicked his hair up into spikey goodness and then I took photos. I promise that when they're developed, I'll figure out how to show them here.

Anyway, I ought to go shower now since I'm covered in Nick's hair and it's sort of itchy. And really blonde. He's SO blonde. It's sneaky hair; it gets places (like my panties - tee hee) and itches, but when I look for where it is, I can't see it. That's how blonde it is. Willi liked his hair a lot, too. She kept rolling in it and attacking it as it hit the floor. I did try laying newsprint down, but she attacked that too. Cats are so helpful.

I did it again. I forgot to write stuff. Is this the dreaded loss of interest I so feared at the beginning? Nah, probably not. I think I'm just busy.

My internal schedule is a little out of whack, too, because I came into school yesterday for a guest lecture. Barry Fowler from PDI (the people that gave us 'Shrek' and before that, 'Antz') gave a talk about all the processes involved in creating 'Shrek' and such. It was very interesting and totally engrosing. But now that I'm actully in class, I'm feeling confused. Add to this the fact that the school network keeps going down today and you have one slightly off-kilter day. I hope it gets fixed or all this writing so early in the morning will be in vain.

I saw 'Shrek' last night, too, and while I found it pretty good, humourous, well animated, bouncy and fun, somehow, after all the hype I'd heard, it just didn't quite live up to what I'd expected. Maybe it's because I saw 'Monsters Inc.' but I don't really think so. I find that 'A Bug's Life' stands up, as does 'Toy Story', but I was just a little disappointed by 'Shrek'. One thing that made me nearly pee myself, though, was the karaoke at the end of the credits. I think it's a DVD bonus thing, and damn, it was hysterical.

Let me back up a little in time, now, to go on about the Journey to Middle Earth exhibit. First of all, before we got there, Rick and I witnessed a testosterone adventure. Some suped up stupid penis-wielding-boy car ran a red light in order to turn right and nearly mowed down a trio of pedestrians. One of the walkers spanked the car and of course penis-wielder had to stop the car and be a jerk. Unfortunately, wimpy white-boy pedestrian got a hard-on to teach penis-wielder a lesson, which was just dumb because he got a beat-down. I'm afraid Rick and I didn't bother being heroes. Had the penis-wielder reacted harder than he did, maybe, but the wimpy pedestrian was incredibly stupid to take on a macho teenaged prick. We were a third of the way up the stairs to Casa Loma when the punch flew, which means we couldn't get the license plate number, but honestly, it was a lesson learned for the pedestrian.

Do I sound harsh and unfeeling now? I guess I have no sympathy for idiots.

Anyway, the exhibit was wonderful. The lines were astounding, one having a wait of 45 minutes, but I enjoyed the show very much. I snapped a few photos, too, that I wasn't allowed to take. Hee hee. It's amazing that every piece of furniture, every weapon, every tool used in the films was created by hand. The programme we got said that there were something like 16,000 pieces created. I'm not positive whether that includes the hundreds of weapons and suits of armour. The elfin costumes are extraordinary and the orc armour and clothing is deliciously unpleasant. You can almost smell the sweat and mold.

One of the perks was the poster that I got for purchasing my tickets on-line. It's the stunning movie poster with the two colossal statues facing out over the water. It's one of the finest pieces of illustration I've seen as publicity poster in a very long time. There's not question, I'm getting it framed. It's utterly beautiful. If I could paint like the artist that created it, I would die a happy woman.

I miss my old friend Juliane. It's not that I don't enjoy going to the Royal Winter Fair with Rick, it's just different. With Juli, we could get so ... female. God ! What shit we could get into. Getting rides on the golf carts because we were dressed nicely for the evening show, or making eyes at various wealthy boys with horses. I miss Juli. Period. I think, perhaps, I'll call her tomorrow after I get back home.

Anyway, the Royal was good fun. Rick and I had a tiff of sorts at the Greenhawk tack booth, but it was just me being overly sensitive, I guess, and I said, but he thought I called him insensitive, which he is definitely not. If there were ever a man sensitive to my feelings, it's Rick. Anyway, I don't know why I was so on edge, but it passed. I bought Kerri a present (hopefully she'll like it) and then Rick bought me a little goat. Not a real one, sadly, but a little toy one that had lovely detail on it. It's from a German company, but made in China, and then sold in Canada. See? Globalisation isn't just about multi-national corporations anymore.

We ate in the farm produce area, of course, eating, between us, lamb on a bun, chicken breast on a bun, cabbage rolls, and a baked potato. Of course, as tradition dictates, I had to have beer nuts, too. Beer nuts ! Yum ! I got my fill of petting horses, mostly the big-bear draught horses: belgians, clydesdales, percherons, etc. Even enormous beasts like the 18 hand percheron I visited like a good love-spot tickle. It's almost embarrassing the way they melt. We visited the goats too. Last year we attended the fair early in the week and there were sheep, but the goats come in for the second half of the event and so, today, being the second-last day, there were goats galore. I love goats ! Even Rick gave in and tickled a goat.

Finally, as the evening was wearing down, we sat by the warm-up ring (is it the hitching ring? It's the one inside the horse palace) and watched the people warming up and practicing. It's nice to see the grand prix jumpers riding along beside the junior dressage girls and the welsh ponies running amok all over the place. I took what I hope turn out to be good photographs of some show jumpers putting their animals over fences before their competition. None of the people in my photos are Canadian, Ian Millar and Jill Henselwood had already left the ring. I managed to catch a Columbian rider on a big, white mare, an American woman on a gorgeous bay gelding, and some other fellow whose flag I missed, also on a nice bay. Anyway, the Columbian's horse was being lazy and kept taking rails, and the rider looked to nervous to be able to rationalise his way out of the pattern. I wish I'd seen them ride their actual courses. Next year I will.

Anyway, tomorrow (today?), Rick and I are off to the 'Journey to Middle Earth' exhibit at Casa Loma, so that should be nice, if likely crowded. We'll also be getting up at a *reasonable* hour in order to attend a Remembrance Day ceremony going on at UofT. Part of me is feeling lazy and thinking about just listening to it on the radio, but I don't think so. This year, more importantly than in the last couple of years, I think we as a society must pay our respects and remember what ills drive nations to war. We must remember the past, so as not to ignore the present.

I have a headache and it's making me feel bleh, but what can you do? Class today has been about lighting and texturing. I rather like playing with lights. They seem to come easily to me, though I tend to use ambient lighting in most of my artwork, maybe with a point or spotlight faintly to one side. I remember my mom talking about when she was in film school and how lighting projects used to excite her... I understand why. It's what makes everything come alive ! Daniele came to help me with something, the fuzziness of my shadows, I think, and he sort of looked at me in this strange way, almost surprised, and said, "You have a very good sense for lights. It's very good." Maybe there's a future in it for me.

At lunch, a bunch of us went to the mall (Sherway Mall?) and it sort of sucked, but we didn't want the usual lunch fare. Brian and I went for the Edo Japan stall in the food court and Nelson, Daniele and Kishor hit the Manchu Wok. It was a nice break from the other stuff we eat, and pretty affordable. I'd better buy some bread, though, because I'd like to start bringing my lunch to school again. On the way out, we were distracted by the Music World store. I wandered over to see if it had the latest Depeche Mode single (hah, it had no more than two albums in total - yeesh), and finding disappointment, I moved over to the oft ignored Classical section. *minirant* Andrea Boccelli (sp?) is not classical music, the term for him is sentimental crap. *end minirant* Anyway, they had some ridiculously cheap no-name CDs for sale and for 5.99$ how could I resist? I picked up some Mahler, Dvorak, and some organ music. Subtract the redeemed Music World card and, all told, I spent 10 bucks and change, including tax. Sweet deal.

Good morning ! I thought I'd take this opportunity, as I am in less than a conversational mood (it's early for me still), to offer a link to a dandy download. Oh yes. MmMMmm hmmm. It's the trailer from the Ep. I: The Phantom Menace DVD that you're not supposed to be able to access yet. Well, here it is. YUM. I don't recommend you go if you're terrified of spoilers.

http://drkhwk.net/ep2/attack_of_the_clones_-_mystery.mpg

(No, I don't know how to give it tags to turn it into an active link. I'm dumb that way.)

Enjoy it.

Curry. The stuff that dreams are made of. And my dinner ! I just came back from Red Rose with Rick and Techknight. I had been trying to get a hold of TK all day to see if he wanted to go for curry when I was done work, but he'd left his phone at home and so I called Rick and left a message for him. His plans had fallen through so we opted to do curry together, kind of date-like. When I got on the street car to head up to the restaurant to meet Rick, a lovely baritone voice greeted me and I looked down to see TK sitting in one of the single seats. I invited him to join Rick and I and of course he said yes. No date, but twice the good company.

It was GRAND. I must remember to take my mom there next time we do dinner in the city. They do a perfect curry and they can adjust the spice level to taste. Thanks to my heartburn, I opted out of the super spicy curry tonight, but I lived vicariously through TK as he perspired and turned beet red. I tasted his too, and boy was it awesome. Rick had the chicken vindaloo, which I've never had there, and I tasted it as well. Delicious. I, naturally, had the lamb curry and it was divine.

One day when I'm hideously rich, I'm going to round up a whole lot of strangers that look unhappy and I'm going to take them to Red Rose so that the curry can make them warm and fuzzy. It's impossible to leave that place in a bad frame of mind.

I'm pretty excited about tomorrow, too. Even more excited than I was for the curry. I'm going to leave school a bit early so that I can get home and meet Rick. We're going to pick up our Journey To Middle Earth tickets and then head over to the Exhibition grounds for the Royal Winter Fair. I can survive not having seats for the horse shows just because I'll be spending two hours surrounded by horses and eating beer nuts. Hopefully this year we won't see the 4H kids showing their sheep. You have not heard an unhappy sound until you've heard fifteen sheep together in a ring doing things they don't want to do. Anyway, it's going to be good wholesome (in a farmy sort of way) fun and I can barely wait !

It happened while I was at work. What happened? Oh, just a little something I like to call an eviction notice.

Glen phoned me at work to give me the wonderful news. Joy. Despite me having expected it, certainly for a month, it hit me like a ton of bricks. A heavy ton of bricks. Maybe something more like two tons. Are metric tonnes heavier? Whichever one is heavier is the one that hit me. Is there good news in all of this? I suppose, if anything, it's that we were given more than 60 days. We have to be out by January 31, 2002. Well, I'm sure I'll think of something before then.

I phoned Nick and he collected me at Heretic in order to distract me. At my house, I heated up some barbequed chicken and made a salad into which I chopped an apple. It wasn't exactly gourmet, but it did the job. He stayed and watched 'West Wing' with me, and he liked it (what's not to like, it's awesome), and we sort of watched 'Law and Order' too. He remarked something along the lines of, "Are shows better now, or have I just been watching crap?" Heh, no Nick, they're not better, but at my house, I try to make my viewing time worthwhile.

While I was making dinner for Nick and I, Glen dropped in (he really is like the sitcom wacky neighbour) to ask me about what I wanted to do about future living arrangements. I explained that ultimately, I'd rather find my own place, but that I was open to the roommate option. I also told him that I didn't want to talk about it right then because we had a little time before it required attention. So much for me taking time after school ends to take a holiday. I'll be figuring out where my stuff goes. I need to talk to my mom about the whole thing. That's what Moms are for. I miss her sometimes. A lot.

Well, I've come up with a final project/portfolio piece for my class. I've got a little under two months to complete it and it isn't going to be easy at all. I've already done a very rough storyboard for it, but I'm going to redo it at home in a much more careful sort of way. Maybe I'll even try redoing it in Photoshop. Hey, that would be neat.

Anyway, it's a project that will handily combine my art history (and to a lesser extent, archaeology) background with my art/3D skills. It will require careful attention to lighting/shading needs and no doubt will nearly kill me on the modeling front. I'm going to have to study the way people move very carefully, and I might even borrow someone's camera (my own?) and do a few rolls of film in sequence to see exactly how a person moves. When it's all done, the whole thing can become a portfolio... the entire process. From the original images that spawned the idea to the photos that will act as reference, to the storyboard(s), and finally a finished piece that hopefully won't suck. It will make me concentrate on every aspect of computer animation from the model to the animation itself.

I'm being positive today, persuading myself that I can, indeed, do this project. I have the time, and hopefully I have the drive as well. Luck !

Uhg, it's been three days since I last updated this thing. Bad Maya. *flogs self* Sorry, sorry. I suppose it's testamony of my busy weekend, right? Sure. I'm not sure where to start, though. I'll just glance over how things have progressed. Prepare yourself for a loooooong entry.

On Friday, there was much good fun had at Monsters Inc. ! Nick arrived at my work before everyone else, by a good hour and a half. He was fun and frolicksome as usual, AND he gave me a desperately needed back rub. He was impressed by my shoulders of steel. He can have them if he wants them, tension and all. Rick arrived shortly after I closed the store, as did Tracy and her friend (who has NO direction sense whatsoever), Tammy. We packed Tammy off to the Danforth to have dinner with her friends and the rest of us moseyed over to Java for cheap and tasty dins, which were both cheap and tasty. Suprise !

We went to the Uptown (YAY !) and it's been so long since I've seen a movie there that I have to wax on about how great a theatre it is. Sure, it's not some space-age surround-sound digital-chairs and virtual-fun mecca of entertainment, but it's a massive theatre with a huge screen, great sound system, AND a stage (in case any one wanted to try a kickline). Also, it's got great old Art Deco mouldings on the ceiling and exquisite use of neon lighting. Who could ask for more? They just don't make theatres the way they used to, you know? The worst is, yet again, there's a movement to close it (and the wonderful Eglinton Theatre) down because it isn't wheelchair accessable. Now, I realise people are going to be horrified at what I'm about to say, but you know, just about every damn theatre in the city is wheelchair accessable, and around both the Uptown and Eglinton there are other theatres that have all sorts of wonderful ammenities. The renovations both locales would require would do a lot to damage the integrity of two beautiful historic moviehouses. With all the choice out there for movie watching, why worry about these two places? Leave them alone. Lobby other things, like restaurants and office buildings where there aren't tons of alternative locations. Lobby the city for wheelchair ramps on every curb, etc., but these two theatres out of dozens don't count for all that much. It would be a shame to close them. *steps down off of her soapbox*

At the Uptown, we met up with Paul (Tracy's long-time boyfriend), Al and Carrie, and a couple of Tammy's friends (and Tammy, too). Monsters Inc ROCKED. It was... wow ! The lighting and the... funny... and the... love ! It was so wonderful, and magical even. Oh yes, please go see it if you ever wanted to feel divine. Gah, I can't express how lovely it was. And, as a bonus, it had a teaser for Episode II *swoon* and a short film by Pixar called 'For the birds' if I'm not mistaken. Yay for Pixar. Nick said, "I want to work for Pixar." I replied, "Me too." He grinned and said, "Ya, but I -will- work for them." I hit Nick.

**As an aside, there is the most phenomenal sunset right now, glowing its pink and orange way in through the ROM windows. Spectacular.**

Saturday, there was a field trip to see the very same movie at school, so I ducked out, having just seen it the night before, to go see the new Jet Li flick, The One, with Rick. It was mildly entertaining, but you know what? Watching Jet Li fight Jet Li isn't as cool as it sounds. As the viewer, you know it's all fake and it really kills any tension you might have felt. It was really short, too. Bleh. I was in a bad headspace that evening, and even going for sushi with Rick after the movie didn't help that much. I got home and cancelled on Nick, who was going to come over and tutor me. Tracy cancelled on me, since we were going to do our very late birthday gift swap, and so, Rick spent the night, not that having him spend the night is a bad thing. He's a good egg.

Sunday, Tracy came over at quarter past ten in the morning bearing a coffee and muffin as appology for the night before, and we did gift swapping and had a bit of a visit before I had to get ready for work and she had to get home. She got me a huge, heavy pewter goblet straight out of Lord of the Rings. It's even got runes inscised into it. It's gorgeous. We both gave magical presents to each other. It was nice.

Heretic was dead slow, that day, though, leaving me to brood on my depression. It gets dark so early these days. I hate it. I can hardly wait for snow. Anyway, Nick came to the store with sandwiches to help cheer me up, but he could not partake because he had to leave for the Stereolab show. It was okay, though, because this fellow named Wayne had dropped in and I gave half of a sandwich to him. Nick makes gooooood sandwiches, even if they make breath all stinky-like. *grin* It's not as though I had customers to talk to, yeesh. After that, I walked home and headed to the computer lab to do school stuff. Fabian gave me some help with modeling. I'm going to have to cut down my ROM hours substantially, I can see, just because my free time at home in the evenings is going to be spent doing school stuff at school. I was so tired last night that I could only stay for about an hour.

Today, Deanna and I were going to go to the Royal Winter Fair, but she was poopy and didn't wake up to phone me. I woke up at a quarter to noon and phoned my supervisor at the ROM and asked if I could come in today, afterall, instead of skipping class tomorrow to work. She agreed, and naturally, as soon as I got off the phone with her, Dee called. So, I came to work regardless and Dee met me here for lunch. It was a fly-by visit spent in a cheap Chinese restaurant across Bloor St from the ROM. It was nice to see her, though, I suppose. She gave me an excellent key chain that says: "I don't need to point out my best qualities... they stick out on their own". I gave her the soundtrack I made earlier in the year to all the RP stuff we did on RoD. I forgot to take photos of us, though. Duh. Oh well. Another time, perhaps.

Now I really should get back to the excitement that is data entry here at the museum. Oh yes. The sun has now set so that not even the underside of the observation decks on the CN Tower remains illuminated. When I leave, it will be completely dark. But I'm going for a drink with Stacey so that she can show me her photos from her Asia trip. That will be excellent. I don't plan to do any work tonight at home, with the exception of scanning some referrence images for my school project. Just me, the computer, the Sopranos, and sleep, nice and early. Joy.

Ack ! I just read Nick's weblog from yesterday (Hallowe'en) and I got to a section about what he might have liked to dress as, had he been going out. This is what I found:

"Well, suppose those were too much work, or too uncomfortable. Next plan would be to have a shirt that says "Safe Sex Guy" written on it somehow, and then whenever someone says "What makes you 'Safe Sex Guy'?" I'd start to unbuckle my pants. Yes, I'd be wearing a condom all day. What makes this idea extra great is that then I'd try to convince Maya to actually have sex with me so that I could be wearing a used condom around all day. Ugh! No, it wouldn't work either."

Niii-iiiiick, I think you're disgusting !!!! Guh. *shudder*

Anyway, I'm off to Ricks tonight, so more logging tomorrow. Whee !

There's an hour left of class today and I'm sort of at a loss for how to spend it. You see, we're rendering our animation, my group that is, or at least the bits that I worked on. Miyagi still did some wacky hand things, but apparently we're just going to deal with it. I was all for trying to fix it, but the concensus was that it would take way too long and it's okay if he looks like he has the palsy.

The fellow who teaches us character design and (soon) storyboarding, Brian Lemay, was in today and we had a fun time. We had to work with a character that we'd already created (I hadn't, so I used one from a previous class - my mafia man, if you must know) and create a sequence of poses for it. We had to concentrate on where the lines of action were within each pose, and the clarity. Basically, if the picture were flattened out and made into a silouette, would the viewer still be able to understand what is taking place? Anyway, I did a very Film Noir sequence for my mafia man, who ended up looking like a Rat Pack member with a hideously broken nose. It was pretty basic, just him lighting a cigarette. First, he's shown reaching into his coat, then he's shown standing, lighting his smoke, one hand cupped around the match. In the third pose he's shown holding out his hand as it starts to rain, cigarette hanging from his mouth, and finally, he's seen pulling up his collar, hunching over as he walks off in the rain. See? Very Film Noir. Well, no, you can't see, but I'll ask Nick how to input images into this thing and I'll scan it. THEN you can see.

After that, we all got to take turns striking poses to do quick sketching. You could tell the serious artists in the group because when a particulary complex pose was struck, they'd ooh and ahh. It was nice. I got that reaction for one of mine because I gave my body a wicked twist. One fellow came up and struck martial arts poses and they were very impressive. We all liked them a lot and he was trained, obviously, so his muscles didn't shake as he held them. He also didn't even slightly wobble off balance like so many of us. Excellent stuff.

My Hallowe'en was a bit of a bust, I must say. I did the costume party on Realms of Despair, and naturally, Rhyl and Vernese did not win the contest. The judge didn't even look at our descriptions. Roleplayers are always overlooked. Following that, there was a quest specially designed so that our characters could 'trick or treat' in the haunted forest. I think it would have been better if the quest was doable, and after an hour of losing our loot to the unkillable bully, and getting caught all too often in the trap, we bailed. Still, 5 glory points is nothing to sneeze at, and next time I participate in a quest I will earn enough to get another rename.

Deanna was supposed to come into Toronto last night and we were supposed to go out. It's good that I didn't bother with make-up or even a costume, actually, because she was waylaid due to technical difficulties (whatever that means) as I found out when she phoned me before I left for school. The poor woman slept in her car after finally arriving at 4am. I told her she should have come by and crashed chez moi, but I guess it was too late by the time I was talking to her. Anyway, in that I had to go to school, she decided to head up to the Petes to visit Lindsay, and we've rescheduled Monday. Maybe we can go to the Lord of the Rings exhibit at Casa Loma, though I did promise to do that with Rick. I don't know, I don't know. Anyway, her not arriving gave me time to work on the article I promised to write for The MUD Companion. Nothing too exciting, just a basic discussion of the importance of description in roleplay.

Monsters Inc. opens tomorrow ! I'm going with hopefully lots of people. Tracy and maybe her friends, Rick, perhaps Nick (did I remember to invite him?), and maybe Al and Carrie. Also, we got permission from Larry at school to go as a class to see it on Saturday afternoon. Hopefully it will be good enough to see twice, otherwise I'll just go home again and sleep. There are just so many new movies that I really must see ! Monsters Inc. and Harry Potter, and One, and Iron Monkey, and Fellowship of the Ring... and those are just the mainstream movies ! Nick and I have a whole other list for independent movies. All these exciting movies, though, make me think that I might prefer a future in film art rather than video games, but I'm not ready for that decision, yet.