Please note: unfocused thought processing ahead. Please be advised that there may be no conclusion whatsoever found or even a real point to this entry at all.

Some of you, those who know me, I suppose, know that I have an interest in the occult. It's a general interest that has influenced my studies and hobbies for years. I didn't put a name to it for a long time, and using the term 'occult' might be a bit misleading, but I am fascinated by mythology and early religion and how it's come down to us over time. Maybe I can lay the blame at the feet of my open-minded mother who gave me a huge book of greek mythology when I first learned to read. Now, we also used to read from my awesome illustrated Bible stories book, too, but I'd had that from before I could read, so I don't count it - though the story of Samson and Delilah always impressed me.

I was also raised in a house of two faiths - Judaism and Christianity - and allowed to chart my own course. Add to this my mother's involvement with Native Earth Performing Arts and the education in Native storytelling that I received via their shows. By the time I was twelve I was well on my way to broad-mindedness concerning faith and spirituality.

I'm rambling now; my essay-writing skills have suffered these past two years outside of academia. Anyway, I have just finished a really interesting book, Witch: the wild ride from wicked to wicca, by author Candace Savage. It discusses the image of the witch and how she has come down to us through history. It debunks a lot of myths surrounding the witch in her many incarnations and links each subsequent century with their misconceptions, right down to our own. It seems that in each successive generation, the roots of 'witchcraft' go further and further into the past so that by the middle of the twentieth century, the witch had been embraced by feminists and radical social reformers as an icon of collective resistance. Wicca, itself, was born from a misconceived idea of medieval witch cults built from scant records and elaborated on extensively by early anthropologist Margaret Murray. You can read the revised texts here, but when the intro states that "Murray was one of the first to objectively review the evidence of the 'burning times' witch trials to try to extract a kernel of truth" understand that this is not wholey true. It seems that she actually did a bit of book-cooking herself.

In fact, there's been so much cooking of the books that it is nearly impossible to know fact from fiction. And that is one of the reasons it fascinates me so much. In one of my fourth year seminars, I began with the development of an idea about depictions of peasantry in Renaissance art and how they served as moral truths and satirical commentary. This developed into an interest in depictions of women in Renaissance art and from there into the idea of the witch. I also recently read an excellent book called "King Death" and I can see the parallels between the ideas it promoted, concerning Bubonic Plague in the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance, and the rising fear of witchcraft and evil. I feel like I should revisit the topic, but I think my paper might be gone - thrown in a bin for my lack of interest, or something. Perhaps my professor still has a copy, or perhaps it exists somewhere on a disc.

Thought process is here ended. We return to our regularly scheduled programming.

I'm currently in the Petes in order to celebrate Passover with Mom. All the matzoh has stoppered me like a corked bottle of wine and I'm already yearning for biscotti. Terrible, I know. I should be ashamed. I am working at the ROM on Good Friday and Easter Monday, which is very good for my bank account, and as I'm not working Saturday or Sunday, I can take the car into Toronto and return with it for a couple more days of relaxation. I have a date with Rick tomorrow night. I believe we'll be seeing Hell Boy, which should be fun, even though I've never read the comic book. So, my return to Peterborough with the car will be Saturday morning. I'd bring my cat if I were staying out a little longer. She could use some romping in the garden as she's gotten a bit pudgy.

But now, if plans hold, I am to help put up the bird feeders.

I have been neglecting this journal in favour of the much more mindless Live Journal that I can be found frequently posting in. I've been trying to reserve this one for more profound thoughts, but I haven't had many of late.

With the exception of my little theory concerning the grade nine students who come through Eternal Egypt. I have discussed it with various people whom I consider intelligent and thoughtful, including my mother, and mostly once I lay it out, they agree. I came to this understanding after one particular day when I had lots of grade fives and one class of developmentally handicapped adults.

From what I have seen and experienced, the grade nines are the absolute most difficult age level to engage in conversation. They do not want to talk. Sometimes, they raise their hands and then as soon as I turn to them they falter. This is not nearly so bad among the grade elevens, who are beginning to show interest and offer answers. It came to me when I dealt with the developmentally impaired group. These were also young adults, probably around 18 years of age, or so, and yet I had no trouble engaging them. They were a lot like the grade five groups I see so much of with their enthusiasm and volunteering of information.

Children are very emotional. They have no trouble suspending their disbelief. If I tell them that Egyptian judgement consisted of the deceased's heart being weight against a feather, they have no problem accepting that a heart can weigh as little as a feather. Or that the feather of Ma'at (the concept of truth and order) might actually weigh more than a normal feather. Again, with the group of special adults, they had no problem accepting this. They are able to believe, just as a child can believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. In contrast, the grade elevens have developed their 'mature' thinking skills. They no longer think of things in terms of emotion, instead they think rationally. They can understand the emotional qualities, but place it in a seperate compartment.

The grade nines, however; are in the process of making the leap from emotional thought to rational understanding. More often than not, their questions are the ones that struggle to bridge the gap. For instance, "How can a heart and feather weigh the same?" They are attempting to reason out the answer, but are unable to quite let go of their child-like comprehension. It's sort of an extension, I think, of how younger children try to comprehend the existence of Santa Claus. Grade nine is a brutal time in a person's development, and now, taking into consideration what I have seen, I think I have a much better understanding of exactly what makes it so difficult. More than any other year in a kid's life, I think that one is the gap over which the youth is standing, one foot in childhood, the other in adulthood.

I wouldn't want to repeat it under any circumstance, but it does make me view them less as a downer and more as a challenge.

Spring has sprung. Aside from the rain and the blooming crocusses, random construction projects have been springing up all around the city. With my sliding door ajar I can hear the robins before dawn and the drills once the sky gets light. Ahhhh, spring. It's going to rain all week and it's raining pretty heavily now, and here I am, knowing that my umbrella is where I left it - in my apartment. I am so clever.

I spent a couple of hours painting Grurl, one of my cute, fat dragons (I should trademark that) while I watched the last half of Pirate Movie and CSI Miami, which was slightly more realistic than it usually is. Grurl sits in a little flower pot, all four feet in the air, tongue lolling out of his mouth. He's a nice, vibrant blue with orange detailing and I gave him plastic stuffed-animal eyes so he looks a little intense. He's pretty cute. I hope someone takes him home from Ad-Astra. I'll try to get some pictures of him and the other ones I've made, too.

This morning I woke up around 7am, which is about an hour earlier than I need to get up, because Stinky was making quite a bit of noise as she wrestled with one of her cat toys. It was the squeaky... um... hampster?... and every so often it let out a pathetic, wheezy squeak. When she'd quite finished with it she dropped herself onto me like a small, soft, sack of sand and went to sleep. She and Porkchop have been getting along much better of late - perhaps the return of spring has raised their spirits. I hear them playing, then they tear into my room, raise some Hell before flying out again, and then the thumping continues in other parts of the house.

I sort of feel like I should be talking about important things. The thing is, I haven't heard back from Fleming College yet as to whether I've been accepted, things haven't moved much on the dead-beat politician issue, I've settled into the new jobs with no drama... This doesn't leave a whole lot to talk about. The most exciting things I can think of these days is my planned trip to New York in June. And even that is only in the conceptual stage. I'm thinking that if I'm there for a week (with Mom) then I might skip over to Philadelphia for two days of that to visit my pal, Megs, and various other people. Too bad it looks like there won't be any exciting temporary exhibits at the Philly Museum of Art, but there do seem to be several interesting exhibitions on at the Met. I might try the Rodin Museum in Philly, too, as I've never been there.

Working the main cash is a long shift, though not as long as that of the information desk. I see a lot of people from a lot of places (today including a family from Bermuda, two very funny Dutch lesbians, a family from Australia, etc.), but most of them aren't terribly interesting. There are people who reek of booze and reefer, or cigarettes, others talking around their hotdogs, people with strange body odours... You get the idea. When I worked at Membership I had a few of those, but mostly just expensive drunks. What kind of disappoints me is that here I am, chatting with everyone, greeting everyone, smiling all day, and so many people are so utterly humourless. I told the Dutch ladies that I wished they could just hang out at admissions all day to amuse me. They rocked. But they only just managed to balance out the nasty old man who was very angry about everything.

Now the day is winding down and I'm getting ready to cash out and I'm looking forward to going home and painting fat dragons. I'm going to put aside my money concerns, of which, despite an increase in pay, I still have, and just take it nice and easy. I think maybe with a cup of tea.

Oh my goodness, I've had such a nice night with Rick... actually, I've had a really nice day. Let's start at the beginning, shall we? After calling out of work sick with the uckiness of a cold yesterday, I dragged myself out of bed in order not to miss another day at the museum. Good thing I did, too, because today's batch of tours was really rewarding. Every single group was great. With the exception of one group of developmentally handicapped young adults, they were all about ten years old and the most (including the special group) engaged, enthusiastic bunch so far. I learned that it's not hard to teach about Egypt to high-functioning autistics and people with downs-syndrome, you just need to appeal to their emotional understanding. They all loved the concept of the Egyptian afterlife, which is a farm where the fields are always irregated, there are animals ("I don't like goats - they're smelly"), and it's always sunny. Hey, me too. Sign me up.

As a slight digression from my day, I feel really comfortable in the Eternal Egypt exhibition now that I've taken Mom and Julie through it. Spending over two hours talking about nearly every piece and certainly every period of Egyptian history makes me realise just how much I actually know. And I keep thinking of things I could have said while I was taking them through and never got around to mentioning. I really do enjoy this new job in Education and I'll be sorry when it ends in June. I'd happily work the feathered dinosaur exhibit that's coming next year, but God-willing, I'll be in school. There will be other exhibits, though, and maybe after I'm done at school, I'll be on a different end of things - making some of the magic happen.

I ran some errands following that and took my self-portrait in to be framed at Frames 'n Graphics on Bloor Street before heading home to have a nice afternoon nap. I also cleaned out Willi's litter pan, disinfected it with cleanser and all. She naturally spent a good portion of my nap-time digging in it fiercely and waking me up. It clearly meets her standards of clean because she was in and out of it at least three times before she let Tobe anywhere near (who then also made use of it). Once I was awake again, happily noting that it is now still light out until past six o'clock in the evening, I headed out to meet Rick at our favourite (only?) Indian restaurant, Red Rose. The last time we were there was the day I told Rick I needed a break, so this was a much happier occasion and we enjoyed every moment of it. He gave me They Might Be Giants' children's book, which was very sweet of him and totally unnecessary.

We had initially intended to go see Ladykillers tonight, the new, seemingly quite bizarre Tom Hanks movie, but we ended up walking all along Bloor Street, ducking into Cheapo (Sonic Boom) Records and then Book City. It's very nice to be able to afford a couple of used CDs and one book on sale. It's been so very long. This past two weeks I've been able to buy clothing for the first time in months - with my own money - and now something to entertain my ears and my brain. In fact, one of the CDs I bought was an EP by my old favourite indy band, Red Autumn Fall. It's kind of surreal to be sitting here in my house with Rick in the shower, Willi sleeping on my monitor, and Simeon pouring out his mellifluous soul into my room. I haven't listened to RAF in years, but this EP is so much better than the CD they put out before they broke up.

So, we ended the evening having a coffee at Dooney's and being all hipster like. I enjoyed some tasty, if not exactly like how I remember it, New York cherry-topped cheesecake and a cappucino and Rick had an Irish coffee. We walked to Spadina Station and Rick slid his way up the immobile moving sidewalk and when we finally got home it was after eleven. Now we're both clean, well-fed, and ready for a snuggle.

Last night, I dreamed all sorts of weird things. The most troubling one concerning the latest assassination in Israel and the recent outbreak of anti-semitism in Toronto. People kept demading to know my feelings on Israel's policies and making accusitory remarks about how the vandalism is related to them and how Jews deserved this, etc. As most of my friends know, I am never quite able to put my feelings into words, a rare thing for me, as I simply cannot come up with how things in Israel should be handled. I believe in the Homeland and a little part of me always believes when we end the seder with "next year in Jerusalem", but do I support the policies? The state sanctioned murder? The wall? No. Do I feel for the victims of suicide bombings? Yes. So? Well, here's where I can't put it into words. I simply cannot fathom how anyone can get out of the mess that is Israel and Palestine. It was like this in my dream and people were yelling at me and hurling insults at me and then telling me it was my fault that Jewish cemetaries were being desecrated.

I am glad that when I woke up following this dream, there was a soft, fluffy cat curled up against me under my covers. Melody, as a cat of the ripe old age of 17, has no such worries, no understanding of those things that trouble my mind. She just offers love and attention and is generally available for kisses when needed.

Anyway, this past weekend was very nice. On Thursday night, my four year anniversary of being with Rick, he and I took the Greyhound out to the Petes where Mom picked us up. On Friday, as it was such a lovely day, all three of us went out for a walk along the Otonabee River. The usual photos were snapped in the usual places by the water, with the exception of a couple my mother took of Rick and I rough-housing. I guess it says something of my level of comfort with Rick, now, as opposed to in the past, as we have never really acted like that. We were flinging each other about, dragging each other around, all because I wouldn't relinquish my mother's cane to him. At the end of it, my arms kind of hurt, but I was smiling. I'm really happy with Rick and it shows. We went for dinner that night to a new Chinese (American-style) restaurant near-by and it was pretty darn yummy. Kind of like a scaled-down Mandarin, there were some very tasty things. On Saturday, Rick and I went off to the mall. Woo. He bought me the DVD release of Schindler's List as part of my present and I bought some small accessories and a card to send off to my little-sister, Gina, in Brooklyn.

We took Bernadette into Toronto on Saturday night so that I'd be able to work on Sunday and be able to drive out with our big present for Mom: a new (refurbished) 17" monitor. Rick was a Saint, picking it up for me as I had to work longer than I thought and would have otherwised missed the store hours. He waited for me at Kos for over two hours and I met him there. I had all-day breakfast and then we packed the monitor into the car. Stopping briefly chez moi so that I could pick up my school bag, say hi to Stew, and play with Willi, Rick took a moment to figure out why Natasha had suddenly gone from a half-empty harddrive to a nearly-full harddrive. It turns out that Stew's been storing stuff on it that he plans to burn for his friend, but he had failed to mention this to me. So, we deleted some un-used programmes and then I drove Rick home before returning to the Petes.

Mom and I will be driving into Toronto tonight, she staying at Julie's house in order to come to the ROM tomorrow. I'll be giving both of them the 'education' tour through Eternal Egypt. They're both looking forward to it, so much so that I actually feel some amount of pressure to really make it count. I've only spoken about three zones in the exhibit, four as of tomorrow morning, and I've got some studying to do, before I'm ready to do that. So, I hope that my tour for Mom and Julie lives up to their expectations and that they ask questions about things I actually know. *laugh* We shall see. Anyway, that's for tomorrow. Right now, I think it's time for a nice relaxing bath before my return. While I do that, you should check out my recent self-portrait. I'm quite proud of it. :)

There comes a time in every woman's life, usually once a year, when she has to make a visit to the doctor to get... checked out. Awkward as it can be, if the doctor has a nice manner and can still laugh at your jokes while peering into parts never intended to be seen in such a manner, well, the experience can be rendered inoccuous. Today, I had such a doctor. In fact, this doctor gave me the best exam I think I've ever had, if that can be said about something so utterly undesired. Young men think that there could be nothing better than staring into a woman's vagina all day, or at least I've heard them comment that being a gynacologist is a 'dream job'. This is because they have NO IDEA how unappealing and utterly unsexy the job really is. I would like to thank Dr. Hussein for making my appointment after work as - pleasant is probably the wrong word, here - unheinous as it could be.

Actually, I had a surprisingly good day at work. Today I was one of the 'break people' or 'breakers' in VS. Of course, it's March Break, so there aren't any school groups and I refused to be strapped into armour or do 'medieval dancing' for the enjoyment of an ungrateful crowd, so VS has me for most of the week. Today consisted of being 'in charge' at least for short periods of time. I got to relieve the lead hands for their breaks and lunches which put me in a direct supervisory position above the people on the registers. This is sort of funny considering I have worked a total of two days on the register, only one of which was unsupervised. However, with the exception of a couple of hairy moments, the day went extremely fast and without too much trouble. The job of this particular job is that you get to move around a lot. When not breaking people, I was doing crowd control (this means I get to yell and we all know how much I enjoy doing that), direct and float around being useful. Even better, no one yelled at me. Huzzah !

Today is A&C's one year anniversary. It is sort of hard to believe that they've been married this long already... or even that there was a time when they weren't. Rick and I went over to their place on Saturday in order to help celebrate this festive ocasion. I dyed Carrie's hair red (hopefully it won't fade out right away like last time) and brought over dessert. Rick came over a bit later with a bottle of wine. We went for tasty food at one of the Firkin pubs (um, the Goose and Firkin, maybe?) and I was overjoyed to find REAL steak and kidney pie on the menu, not the wannabe steak and mushroom pie (which is also tasty, I must admit). We went back to their place for the lovely fruity cheesecake I'd brought and wine, enjoying Underworld at the same time. Unfortunately, and not really surprisingly, I got hit with a migraine and had to lie down for over an hour in order to let the medication do its job. That sort of spoiled the evening, but other than that episode, it was fun. Hopefully, they are doing fun things tonight, but they're probably just playing Everquest. ;)

Rick and I will be celebrating our fourth anniversary of being together this coming Thursday. We'll be celebrating it on the bus, heading out to Peterborough where we will also jointly celebrate my Mother's Birthday. Today is actually her birthday, but I can't be out in the Petes until later in the week and Rick took a day off work in order to come too. Maybe all of us can mutually treat each other to a nice dinner out. :) I sent my mom a spring bulb platter from the excellent Peterborough flourist, Pammett's Flowers. This was the very first time I'd ordered flowers for anyone and it was terribly exciting. Well, not really, but there were just so many choices. I'm afraid I pooped out on the little card that accompanies the plants: "Happy birthday, Mom. Love Maya." How's that for original? Anyway, I didn't want to waste money on a bouquet of cut flowers or an arrangement. This way, the bulbs can be dried and planted in the garden next fall so that they can come up once again in the spring.

Happy Birthday, Mom !!

"Troubles, like babies, grow larger with nursing." So reads the sign outside the Dovercourt Baptist Church. I know what it's trying to say, but I think it fails. It has the feel of being translated from a different language. Anyway, I couldn't get it out of my head all evening last night once I'd read it. I kept repeating it in my head as I rode the bus home last night and it was the first thing I said to Stew when I came up the stairs. It really doesn't put babies into a nice light at all, especially if you put emphasis on the 'like babies' part. Creepy.

Last night was my Yay-I-Quit membership party except we (all who attended) were all kind of out of it and not very partilicious. A bit disappointing, but it was nice to see people, especially Nick, whom I had not seen since before Christmas. I was sorry that A&C had not come out, but they, too, were kind of bleh. Anyway, we were at Insomnia a place that has amazing food and great drinks. Our waiter wasn't a barrel of laughs, but he mostly got the job done effectively.

I've been settling into my new positions at the ROM with very little difficulty, but there is so much to learn about the VS postion that I just hadn't ever thought about. My first day on cash went well and at the end of my day everything balanced. Lia was my trainer and since she has a hard time explaining things, I got to do a lot of practical learning, hands-on, etc. It's the best way to learn, though. I'm back in there on Sunday working cash, which is the first weekend of March Break. I'm on the cash that stays open the longest so that ought to be a challenge.

Today's school groups were very good, the kids all really well behaved and quite keen. I had one teacher lose her cool because she thought that everything was taking too long and they were supposed to be, "in a lab RIGHT NOW." I calmed her down and promised that their lab wasn't going to go anywhere and that whomever was leading it understands that sometimes the tours run late. She also was one of those people who thought she knew everything. The best class of the day was a grade eleven class from a christian highschool. They kids were a lot of fun and really got a kick out of my descriptions and stuff. When I referred to Ahkenaten's 'man-boobs', they killed themselves laughing and when I described him marrying his daughters adding, "Mmm, nothing like a little incest to keep a bloodline pure," they groaned and shuddered. They actually knew very little about Egypt not being a history class and that was kind of refreshing, especially since they were so receptive. Had I known, at the time, that they were from a christian school, I'd have talked a bit about the theories relating to who might have been pharoah during the Exodus, but I didn't know so I didn't say. Maybe that's for the best as yesterday I was cornered by a christian mother and her homeschooled children.

Tonight I will get paid, which will be a truly wonderful experience. I'm looking forward to it. I've been living so tight these past two weeks. Without the help of my mother and Rick I would not have eaten at all. Rick's been very generous, treating me to dinners everytime we've been out for the last three months. Soon I will be making more money and I'll hopefully be able to repay some of my debt, but I know that this paycheque is pretty well earmarked for bills and medication. There won't be much left to spend or save.

Finally, there are three significant things coming up in the next week. Firstly, my mother's birthday on the Ides of March. Secondly, A&C's first wedding anniversary also on the Ides. And thirdly, Rick and I will have been together for FOUR years as of the 18th. Wowsers. Go us, all of us ! And now I shall go home as my day here is done.

Is anyone else bothered by all the gangland shootings that have been going on in Toronto over the last few months? I'm bothered by it. Of all US culture we import, do we really need THAT? It disturbs me. It troubles me. I just don't understand it. *sigh*

My feet really hurt tonight. Walking back and forth to the bus several times a day, plus walking up and down through an exhibit for two hours, and elsewhere in the museum, on a daily basis is hard on the tootsies. They've got that slightly burning feeling of skin that is threatening to blister. Having doffed my shoes (can you doff a shoe as you can a hat?) they are still tender. I wish I could tell them that they get to sleep in tomorrow, but I'm training on the switchboard at work so I'll be back at it in eight hours time. They won't get a day off until this coming Friday. I've already decided on what I'll be doing, too. NOTHING. Oh baby.

I had an entertaining night riding up Dufferin on the bus. It isn't often that I enjoy a ride on that route, but for some reason, tonight the mix of people was kind of fun. This probably had something to do with it being Friday night and people were out. There were some girls at the back of the bus, probably around fourteen years of age, and rather than being the obnoxious, noisy things that teenage girls can be, they were fairly interesting. They were talking about other people at school, but without the nastiness that so many of the 'fairer' sex exude. There were two gangly, gawky teenage boys standing in front of me, somehow oblivious to the girls, but probably only because they were discussing one of the few things that can distract as much as boobs - music. There were some adults around me, many clearly coming home after a post-work drink. There were also some couples doing their Friday night bus snuggling and the smattering of stylish single twenty-somethings that only seem to ride the bus after dark. And, what route would be complete without the requisite drunk guy arguing and staggering around up near the driver. He seemed to have gotten hold of two long-stemmed roses, which just gave him a weird surreal appearance.

I think I'll take a moment to reflect on my first week doing schoolgroup tours at the ROM. For the most part, the grade fives are the most engaged of all the grade that have come through. The grade nines, of which there still have only been one class, were the worst. I have great hopes that at some point I'll be able to engage them. Generally, the grade elevens are really hard to interest. They are at that horrible age when they don't want to look smart - God forbid - or even mildly interested. Today was the exception. Today was a wonderful exception, actually. Most of the groups coming through were grade elevens and with the exception of one class they were all very enthusiastic. They came from, mostly, highschools with intensive arts programmes and "gifted" classes. And, I am happy to report that my old school was one of these. Unfortunately, the ten-year-olds that came through afterward were really unruly and hard to keep focused.

One thing that I've learned is that the teacher, more even than the kids' backgrounds, makes the biggest difference. If your teacher is fun, smart, engaging, can talk to his/her students on their level without coming off dumb or trying to hard - those kids will eat out of his/her hand. Of course, I knew this from my own school experience, but it's really amazing to see it at work. The highschool teachers coming through today were really good. Another thing I've learned is that if you challenge your kids, especially the younger ones, they will rise to the occasion, regardless of whether the curriculum believes they can. On Wednesday, I asked a class of nine-year-olds, "Can anyone tell me the name of the Egyptian cat goddess?" Their teacher, an older, probably jaded woman, piped up from the rear, "Um, they're only grade fours, you know," in an offensively condescending tone. I didn't skip a beat when I answered her with, "Actually, you'd be surprised to discover how much nine-year-olds know about subjects like Egypt, compared to adults." She smirked at me, but her face was wiped clean when one little black girl raised her hand and offered a tentative, "Bastet?" BINGO. Stupid teacher. It was obvious that she needed a reminder, but it was probably lost on her. I bet she can't even remember why she went into teaching in the first place.

Anyway, I'll wrap up now. I need a shower and my feet desperately want off the floor.

Have you ever done something for someone else, something that would mean a lot to them even when under normal circumstances you would poke out your eyes first? This weekend, I did just that. You see, my dear friend Ryan, with whom in the early years of our friendship we agreed to never talk politics, was running for the Conservative nomination in Peterborough. Are you getting the idea of where I'm going with this? I do love Ryan and though, in the past couple of years, our relationship has sort of been a bit uneven he has surprised me in the past by doing something special for me. I, having recently gained plenty of political/election experience, was invited to be part of his team, should he win. And, of course, I was also invited out to support him, even though he knew very well that I couldn't and would not vote for him. However, for a day, I could be a plant in the audience offering uber-Ryan-Conservative-support.

And boy did I fool the best of them. I waved my sign. I screamed like a banshee. I did the Xena yell. I heckled. Wow, am I a good heckler. And wow, was there ever reason to heckle. His name is Wayne. McConnachie. And he is a fundamentalist ultra-right-winged christian fascist. I booed him when he called homosexuals a-moral and unnatural (lots of other people booed him, too), I heckled when he talked about being pro-life, and as soon as he was finished ranting (or rather when he ran out of time) I began a huge Ryan chant. I rocked. Anyway, in the end, age won out and Ryan was beaten by James Jackson. It's Peterborough, afterall. A twenty-seven-year-old youngin' has very little chance of beating out a fifty-something man who's lived and been active in the community for decades. Sure, Ryan knew his policy and had real political experience, but we are talking about a place I used to call "Raisinville". Ryan made an excellent showing and proving himself to the Conservative voters. He'll win it next time. In the meantime, he's got four years to work on policy development where he can effect real change.

In celebration of the event, regardless of his loss, a bunch of us went out for drinks and dancing at Reiley's, a pseudo-Irish pub along the main drag. Next door/upstairs was the Junction, a dance club. In the end, only Ryan, his friend Kyle, Tanya and myself went dancing. I have to tell you, the Junction had to be one of the worst dance club experiences I've ever had. I did end up having fun, but it took a lot of effort because the music was awful. It was mostly the worst of mainstream hiphop with some limited dance music thrown in. I have never seen so many cookie-cutter people in one place, either. You haven't seen anything until you've seen hundreds of bland white people shuffling to hiphop, everyone wearing the same clothes, with the same hair, and the same type of dancing. Sure, there were exceptions, but in general, it was pretty sad. Lame, even. And the smoking - YUCK ! We'd thought that Peterborough has gone non-smoking, but it seems they don't actually follow the rules. There was bad ventilation and no fans so the dancefloor was a smokey, sweaty meat-grinder. Ryan got me doing some Mambo, which was a lot of fun, and it kept me at the club an additional twenty minutes, but honestly, after an hour and a half upstairs, I was done.

At one point, Tanya remarked, "You know, I don't know any of these people. I'd expect to see some faces that I recognise." My answer, "Tanya, everyone we know here is at home with babies." Sad, but essentially true. Next time, we'll go to the Trasheteria, at least the music is fun.

So, on a completely unrelated note, I had my first day of working in Education today. I was very nervous going in. I spent my ride on the Dufferin bus thinking about what I'd talk about in the Gold Room. As we prepped in the Studio before the classes arrived, everyone with their morning drink of choice in hand, I started to get nervous. Waiting in the Gold Room was nerve-wracking. I could hear the first class coming through and we (the other interpreters and myself) were milling around and chatting anxiously as we heard the tour coming closer and closer. Finally, the first class arrived at the station before mine and I knew it was showtime. Joe handed off to me and I started. Unfortunately, the first class through was a very unengaged class of grade nine art students - the ones who are taking it only because it's required for them to graduate. Things picked up from then on, however; the other classes being made up of ten and eleven year olds. The grade fives had great questions and with the exception of one unruly group, were very easy to control and talk to. At about a quarter to eleven in the morning, I suddenly realised that I was having fun ! And then it was over. We all went back to the Studio to debrief and sort out the bugs, but it seems that we all did a great job. Considering there was one unscheduled group of forty students, meaning we had to marshal nearly four-hundred kids in two hours, that's pretty amazing. I'm really looking forward to Wednesday when I'm back in.

I also picked up my schedule for Visitor Services. I thought that I might have some time off during March Break in order to visit my mother for her birthday and whatnot, but I only have two nights off. I'll go out to see her on those two days, I guess, but that isn't what I'd hoped for. Oh well. I've also learned something very important about VS. They actually do their schedules in advance, so if I want a vacation, I have to book in advance. Well, in advance, actually. Something else I have learned, I am not going to suffer a lack of hours over the next few months. Hooray ! It's all so very exciting.

I've been suffering from a tummy flu these past two days. It seems to be mostly cleared up now, but my abdominal muscles are really tight. After spending most of yesterday in a horizontal/fetal position, I managed to get over to Nicole's to help her paint. In that I couldn't straighten up completely, thanks to the muscle pain, I did the baseboard edging while she did the rollering and mostly it was alright. She also made sure to pack me full of cheese and crackers in order to stopper me. *laugh* Her place is really nice. She's got a large, airy, bright loft in the same complex she's already been living in (the one I eventually want to move into...). She's paying a ridiculously small amount of rent considering the size of the place. Honestly, she has as much living space as Stew and I and she's paying over two hundred dollars less than us. Inclusive. Wow.

Okay, so you're probably wondering, did I get the job? YES, I got the job ! The one I wanted, even, not the short-term contract. I heard the news on Tuesday and I bounced around the office. I think Richard's a bit disappointed that I'll be leaving Membership, especially right before a big exhibition and March Break, but how can he argue with higher pay and longer shifts? I'm a little sorry to leave Membership, but I've been with the department since November 1998, which is a really long time to hold a job with little room to move. Anyway, I'll be writing my official letters of resignation tonight and bringing them a bouquet of flowers next week.

Anyway, there is no doubt now that I've moved beyond where I was. These are, I believe, very positive changes. While the move to Visitor Services is something of a lateral move within the museum, it puts me in a new place, changes my routine and offers me a fresh perspective. Even moreso, the contract in Education adds a level of excitement and brings a new challenge for me to overcome. I'm working under the impression that I will be back at school in the fall, another positive change, and my mother is starting to call this the "Year of Maya". I hope she's right. If anything, my recent experiences with a certain someone and my betrayal at his hands has changed my view, has thrown me into action. I am taking control of my life and have taken a new fork in the path. I don't know where it's going to lead me, only that it will offer scenery I've never seen before, and possibly a very cool destination. I've got a map to help me along the way, but parts have been left uncharted and I'll be filling them in as I go.

Good thing I like Orienteering.

I am such a mush, it's unreal. Last night, after work, I got home to find Stew watching television. Since we only get three or four channels at any given time he had the Sunday Disney movie on. Tarzan. So, I turned it on, too, but I didn't really start watching until about the half-way point. Within minutes of sitting down in front of the TV I was already crying. I kid you not, the damn movie had me crying. Actually, I really enjoyed it. It came out during the period when I'd gotten really tired of Disney, following The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I probably should have gone to see this one, though. Also, something that I already knew was reaffirmed for me, love it or hate it, Disney wrote the book on facial expressions and they renew their copyright every damn year. Disney is the master of animated characterisations.

Friday night was Cheryl's birthday and Rick and I met everyone at Marlowe on College Street. It was right around the corner from my old place, but when I lived there, there were other restaurants I went to and so I never tried it. It was good, a bit pricey, but the flavours were excellent and I had a dark beer that, while not as good as Barbar Winter Bok, was still very tasty - Leffe Brune. Tons of people showed up including a whole bunch of ex-ROM employees, some of whom I had not seen in a couple of years. Much merriment took place and it seems Rick is a hit with the ROM girls. He got a lecture from Maria about how being called 'cute' isn't a bad thing and Lia told me I had to bring him out lots more because he's fun. It seems that waiting nearly four years to show him off to the girls was a good move. And also, his short hair is a HUGE hit. They dig him. Me too.

This is a crazy week for me. I worked on Saturday and Sunday, today I'm at the membership desk, tomorrow I'm upstairs in the office, Wednesday I'm at training, Thursday I'm on the desk and at training, Friday is the membership preview, and Saturday I'm here again for the public opening of the big Egypt show. *sweats* Plus, I have to finish a proposal I'm working on for a web design contract. Only a few weeks ago, I was complaining that I did not have enough to keep me busy. It doesn't rain, but it pours, as they say. Also, on Saturday, I'm going to try to get out to the Petes for Ryan's nomination (hopefully) as Conservative candidate in Peterborough. My own politics aside, the other two men he's up against make him look like a moderate. I don't know how I'll manage it, since I'm working until two on Saturday, but maybe I can score a ride with A&C, or I'll hop on the bus. I'd like to be there for him, regardless of whether he wins or loses.

Finally, I hope to hear today if I got the VS job. I didn't hear on Friday, obviously, so cross your fingers.

C'est tout.

Home sick, today, with what I suppose is a cold, I have spent most of the day in bed. There's a vague thought that I might like to make myself some soup, but that requires effort, even if it's only to open a can, pour out the contents and add an equal part of water. I woke up this morning with my right eye glued shut and puffy with infection and I can't turn my head to the right. Peter, from the ROM, called to see how I was doing - it's a crunch week and I am loathe to miss work, but there is nothing I can do about this. Hopefully, I'll be fine tomorrow, but if I feel like I do right now, I suspect I'll be out again. More than likely, this is partially my body's response to my extreme nervousness about the interview and everything related to it. Stress and adrenaline held me together through the last two days, and today the seams split.

Anyway, about the interview: It went on longer than at least two I heard about, lasting a little over half an hour. It still remains one of the shortest interviews I've ever had, not including the French portion that was held afterward. I had prepared quite extensively for the interview and therefore managed to give consise answers and appropriate examples. As well, I stressed my years of experience at the ROM and in customer service. I also talked about my love of the ROM and all the time I've spent in it, excluding work time. My fears of dealing with Keenan were unnecessary as he sat back and took notes, not asking any of the questions. I was able to ignore him almost the whole time. I was very professional, shaking hands with the interviewers at the start and acting as if we did not have a history together at the museum. At the end, I thanked them all for the opportunity to interview and shook their hands once again.

The French portion of the interview was held down in the Visitor Services section with Estrella, one of my favourite people at the ROM. She speaks beautiful French (as well as several other languages) and she is very easy to speak with. That isn't to say that speaking French was easy. I was still riding a wave of anxiety and my French was all over the place. One sentence would come out nicely, the next would fall flat and I'd find myself stammering, unable to recall the word I wanted to use. We spoke for about eight minutes, which for me is an eternity, and I think I managed to make myself understood. I used some words that I swear I haven't used since I was in French Immersion, back in elementary school. I also said I would be more than happy to take a class to raise my speaking ability since my comprehension is great.

Now I have to wait. I was supposed to bring in my referrences today, but they'll have to wait until tomorrow. *sigh* Anyway, if all goes well, I'll know where I stand either Friday or Monday. I really, really hope I get the job. I want it badly. It's more money, better hours, and, not to say I don't like my colleagues in Membership, because that simply isn't true, but I have a broader social circle in Visitor Services. So, please cross your bits and hope for the best.

On a different note, I fired my second adorably nauseating dragon last night. I did not wait long enough for the model to cool and picked it up while it was still hot and soft, snapping its tail and one horn. I had to do emergency repairs on it and hopefully it will be alright. I will start painting it when I'm feeling up to it. There's more challenge to modelling these little figures than I'd imagined, though, because my cat likes to stick her claws into the soft, pliable clay. I have to be careful of her when she's sitting by me because if I don't pay close attention, she'll pull the clay right off my work surface. The last thing I want is her EATING my art, or the polymer clay, for that matter. Cats are so weird.

Today is my interview for the Visitor Services job. I am really nervous. As a rule, I don't get particularly anxious before an interview, but I really want this job and I have a lot of excellent competition. I am also a little nervous about the interviewers, especially Keenan, who is known for his difficult questions and unfriendly manner. I've interviewed with him before, so at least I won't be surprised, and I spent a lot of time preparing myself last night. I wrote out questions and answers, situational examples, talked briefly to my mother about it and I guess I'm ready. But it doesn't take the butterflies away.

I spoke to my supervisor, Richard, about using him as a referrence for the VS job and he said yes, of course, but he's disappointed that I am hoping to get into that department. I'm not the only one from Membership who is hoping to make the move, either. It's really hard to argue with my rationale, though, since the pay is quite a bit higher and the shifts are twice as long. I promised him that if I get the job I will make sure to give my full two weeks so as not to leave him in the lurch. I also spoke to Peter, my in-office supervisor (data entry), and told him that one way or the other, I was going to have to give up that job for Education. There are two options: 1. that I give him my letter of resignation and two weeks or, 2. he simply not schedule me for the duration of my contract leaving me free to return when it ends. I'm hoping he'll go for option 2, but I'm not holding my breath.

I had a long conversation with Tracy last night. It was weird to talk almost the whole time about 'grown-up' issues. She recently passed her board exams and now has only about two more months until she's officially Dr. Waugh. We discussed her home-buying plans with Paul, her fiance, and how the bank doesn't want to give her a loan (not surprisingly, since she's not currently employed or contracted). I'm not bothered by her being engaged, it was a long time coming, but this house-purchasing business is just... well, it's so grown-up. I'm still fantasing about the loft I'll have one day and she's about to BUY a home with her husband-to-be. It kind of makes my head swim.

Generally, I try to avoid thinking about things like that because more often than not I begin to feel like an underachiever. Then I have to remind myself that while Tracy is on the brink of becoming a vet, she's had to sacrifice a lot of life experience. When I stand on the life-spiral and look down, I'm not in the same place I was, even if it sometimes feels like I am. There are a lot of challenges and obstacles that I have overcome and I have done more things than many other people my age. So, while I'm not ready to buy a house and start my career, I am well on the way to becoming a truly fascinating person. Go me.

Tonight I am going to write something substantive. An entry of substance. Of weight. Or, at the very least, an entry of several hundred words.

I am in Peterborough visiting my mother, only briefly, but with enjoyment nonetheless. The point was to come out for last night in order to catch Lorne Elliot who was playing at Showplace. If you're not familiar with him, he is the host of the CBC's "Madly Off in All Directions" heard every Sunday on CBC One. He's taken a leave in order to take a show on the road, and my God, is that man ever funny. I thought he was fun on the radio. Now that I've SEEN him, I know how much I was missing. Not only does he do a marvelous job of playing with, and sometimes abusing, the English language (especially those colloquialisms common to various regions of Canada), but he's physically a riot. He moves like he's made of rubber. And he plays a mean guitar. It was the best stand-up I've ever seen.

The plan had been to come out the night before last, which would have been Wednesday, but I got scheduled for training on Thursday. This would be the education job. I am so excited about this job, it's not even a question as to whether it would be worth it for the number of hours, it is worth it to ME. I'm going to be something half-way between a teacher and a tour-guide, taking students through the Eternal Egypt exhibit that will be opening at the end of the month. I have a binder to study, full of information about the exhibition as well as the curriculum requirements for the three principal grade-levels that I'll be dealing with. Grade fives, nines, and elevens. It seems that those are the 'bread and butter' grades for the museum, at least when it comes to cultures, art, and world religion.

Anyway, I had my first training session on Thursday where I met my fellow educator/facilitators. Most of them have a history with the ROM from past exhibits and/or children's programming. There are only a handful of people who are new to the ROM, one coming from the Science Centre, a few out of related subjects in university, and one woman who was actually a cultural site interpreter in Egypt. There's one woman who is a forensic anthropologist, so as she said, "I'm going out on a limb a bit here, but if there are any murders in the show, I'm so there !" Mostly we're all between the ages of twenty and thirty, with only a very few exceptions. I'm completely excited about it, keyed up, thrilled, and I only have momentary pangs when I think, "Oh my God, I'm going to be dealing with KIDS." Probably, I'll be too busy for it to actually register.

There are twenty artifacts that I must know like the back of my hand, each representative of a particular period in the three thousand years of ancient Egyptian history. There are actually one hundred and forty-four pieces, but with twenty memorised, I shouldn't be at a loss for words at any point. Of course, I will learn much more than that, but these are a jumping off point. We have two training sessions this week, of which I'll have to finagle some time off because they both conflict with my very busy week in the membership office. Then there are two sessions in the exhibit itself, which will hopefully be enough. The three colossal pieces that are set up outside the entrance to the hall are visible through the plastic and every time I look at them I get excited. They're outside the gallery space because of load-bearing issues inside. It seems they're just too damn heavy and they might go through the floor. We wouldn't want that.

Well, other than that, there isn't too much to talk about that is new in my life. I went shopping with Mom today - a great adventure and much fun. We picked up a new blind for my bedroom and my mother is banging and clopping right now as I type, putting it up. So far, no cursing, but I'm sure that will come. Cursing is part of any midnight project. We also bought me a gorgeous soft, warm shawl/wrap thing for me that I can wear out as well as a sexy new camissol top. At Lewiscraft, spurred on by Snerk, my mother convinced me to purchase many things to make more adorable, sellable, artworks that people will actually buy. It's not so much that I'm selling out, but that I really want people to buy my stuff. Maybe if people like my cute, commercial stuff, they'll take another look at my serious work. Anyway, expect more cute dragons in the future. *sigh* Mom placed an order for a greenhouse shelf-thing that she is buying herself for her birthday, and we went to Staples to examine the possibilities for new computer desks. My bedroom will require redesigning in order to accomodate Natasha and her accessories and my current desk in Toronto won't work and is starting to its age.

Tomorrow I am getting my head pruned, at long last, and I will pick up a new box of Sculpey for further artistic pursuits. Then I'm off to Toronto with Bill and Richie for Dungeons & Dragons at A&C's. So, happy St. Valentine's Day, if you're into that sort of thing, otherwise let me wish you a terrific Emperor Norton Day and hope you celebrate in good health.

I am going to post some serious irreverance here, now, so be warned - it's funny, tasty, disturbing, and really WELL done. It speaks to my inner slash-fiction writer, who's muscles have not been flexed in four years or so. And without further ado - TWO PIRATES KISSING ! Big thanks to Stew who posted it in his livejournal.

Anyway, the router did exciting things that resulted in a two day lack of Internet, but all has been repaired and I'm back online. Stuff happened today but I don't really want to talk about it right now. I have to go and think about how I 'can improve my sales statistics', which ought to give you some idea as to why I'm irritated.

One thing I'm a little tired of is making plans only to have them fall through because of a migraine headache. It doesn't happen all that often anymore as most of my migraines are fairly tolerable, except today my date with Rick got the boot because this one is just a little too strong. We'd planned to go see The Return of the King again, but there is no way I could have sat through three-plus hours of movie magic with my eyes as sensitive as they were. Are. I've had to turn down the brightness on my computer in order to get some work done. Mostly I have done a lot of nothing today, so tonight, as soon as my eyes and head would allow it, I sat down at Natasha to work on a mock-up webpage. I'm playing around and trying new things, for instance, though I tend not to like them, frames. I will probably lose the frames before long, but it does allow for a new way of thinking about webpages if frames aren't your typical thing. Anyway, with this work underway, Mom cannot get upset that I'm leaving things until the last minute.

So, the good news is, I got the education job, and for the time being I have agreed to attend the training session though it totally facks up my plans to head back to Peterborough. I'm fairly certain that I'll be able to swing attending only part of the session, afterall, Mom and I have tickets for Cabin Fever in the Petes. It will be tight, but there's a rush-hour bus that should get me there in time. I must find out exactly the kind of hours I can expect to get from this job in order to make sure I can really afford to accept it. It does mean I'll have to leave one of my jobs in Membership if I take it. You see, I've also applied, and will likely get an interview, for another job in the Visitor Services Dept. It will take me out of the selling aspect of Membership and raise my wage and hours enough to make a significant difference to my standard of living. I guess I must do some thinking and talking to my mother about it. How is it that my mother knows how to deal with (nearly) everything?

The house desperately needs to be cleaned. My room is a mess, there's washing that needs to be done... Now that I have all this free time, you would think I'd get on it, right? Wrong. Maybe I'll work on the bathroom tonight. I had a bizarre migraine dream about living in a house with a whole bunch of people, most of whom I like, only there was this wacky disaster (a weather event, or something) and the house needed immediate and serious attention. In this dream I was the chief Swifferer. It was quite disgusting the muck we were Swiffering up, but I guess there was a little of my conscious thought seeping into my dreamtime. Anyway, my house is not full of muck, or lots of people, but two cats, one of whom sheds like she's got a disease, make a house pretty hairy, as does a pair of long-haired humans. And as for the laundry, I really am putting off the walk to the laundromat. It's a walk just long enough to make me dread it, especially with icy sidewalks. I know, I'm a wimp. I guess I've got no choice but to buck up and go clean my clothes on Sunday. Tomorrow, I'll pick up my drycleaned pants. It's a start. We're talking baby-steps, here, but a start nonetheless.


You are a faerie of the flame. You tend to lose
your temper at the littlest thing, hot-headed.
You're a loyal friend to those who can
understand your raging moods. You're social
though claim not to be. You are no one else but
yourself and sometimes you try to hard to be
just that. You're a passionate friend, and
would do almost anything for those you care
for.


What's your inner Faerie?
brought to you by Quizilla

In case it was wrong, I thought I'd try another one... Guess there's no denying it.

You are the Fire Faerie!


Sorting Faerie
brought to you by Quizilla

The impatience continues. You know, once one makes a life-choice one wants to move forward with it. There is certainly a feeling of stasis. I got my letter from Fleming College saying my application was received and now the waiting continues. I want to know for sure if I'll be going. I want to know for sure if I'll be moving home. I want both these things to happen -now- and nothing I can do will change the fact that I just have to be patient. I am still in relief from contract work, and while there is a nice feeling of 'what to do now' I cannot shake the need to be busy. It seems I got rather used to it. I never would have dreamed it possible, but I do not enjoy the vacant period of time each day that I spend wondering how to fill it. To compound this problem, I seem to be suffering from Artist Block. I want to draw, but I just end up drawing dumb stuff not worth finishing. So I think about the projects I want to do and then can't start them. Frustrating. I can't seem to write, either. I have been dingling about with my webpages, but it's not exactly stimulating dingling. Last night, while watching a special West Wing that did not suck and a CSI: Miami that sucked less than usual, I managed to sculpt a little dragon out of Sculpey clay. Unfortunately, it's the kind of cute, fat dragon that makes me want to puke. But, once painted, I'll probably be able to sell it, so I guess I shouldn't complain too much. And, it was an exercise in creativity, so that was a change.

There is the possibility of further, future creativity as I screen-captured a bunch of good images featuring Moaning Myrtle from Chamber of Secrets. This, of course, is a long-running costume design that I have had. I have not the sewing skills, however; to pull it off. Nicole, on the other hand, does. Nicole is also moving into a new loft and I will be helping her paint it. This means a possibility of barter. Also, I plan to help as much as I can as sewing is a useful skill that I could only benefit in having. Anyway, that should be fun. Hopefully I'll be able to get it together for Ad-Astra, a good place to try out new costumes. Actually, I've never worn a real costume there, or at any convention, only sort of dressed up vaguely along a thematic line. I will also be exhibiting artwork at the show as before. Hopefully, fat, cute, cheesy dragons will sell well. I hate that I just said that. Gah. I'll be showing some of the older works and a few of the LotR works I exhibited at The Gathering of the Fellowship back in December.

The cats are getting along nicely, with the occasional ambush; Willi's settled in again and no longer mopes about. In fact, every morning she plays on my bed thus waking me up. It's very cute, if a bit irritating, and demonstrates her good humour. The game only improves if I happen to decide to play along. Today, since I didn't have to go to work, I got woken up around nine o'clock by her jovial bouncing, and when she settled down I went back to sleep. This meant that she got to do it all over again when I woke up three hours later or so. Cute, cute, cute. Also, I should mention that Tobe is now allowed to share the bed with Stinky, which makes me very hot at night.

Anyway, enough rambling about nothing, Rick is here and he is clearly impatient to be going for sushi because he's making dumb comments and staring at me with meaning.

Welcome to the mid-winter. Today was amazing. The birds were singing in the bright, warm winter sun. There was a bit of snow-melt, but only because of the heat of the sun; the temperature did not rise above -5C. At the ROM, people were in good spirits, and there was a really nice concert of traditional Erhu (or Chinese violin). The violinist was George Gao and he was accompanied by a small chamber string orchestra as well as a pianist. The music was very interesting, combining western influence with folk tradition of China and Gao himself was delightful. I sat in on the performance when my shift ended and found it enjoyable and restful.

Last night was the Yay-I-Quit party for Erin my friend from the ROM (and my old gym buddy). She'd been pigeon-holed and held back from advancing in her department long enough and she was through with it. It was a very good turn-out and I had a lot of fun. Held down at Fionn McCool's on King St. W., it was a pleasant pub and the food was excellent. I had a goat-cheese salad, old-fashioned steak and mushroom (you just don't find kidney around these parts) in a crock, and finished off my night with a sumptuous dessert called The Tinker's Tower that was so rich and huge it required help from others to finish. Rick came, too, which was nice because I got to show him off to all the ROM girls and now that he's not a stinky, long-haired smoker, he's forced to mingle like a real person, not behind the shields of hair and cigarette. I think he had a good time, and he certainly had a good dinner. There was much toasting and laughing, gossiping and story-telling. It was like a good day at work, only with much more alcohol and no fears of a supervisor catching you goofing off.

I've just had a completely satisfying dinner of fried ham and eggs with peach juice to take me through the night. There's not much in the way of veggies in the house, unless you count the tins in the cupboard, but I'll survive today without them. I would like to thank my mother who has helped me out with rent this month, which saves me from having my phoneline cut. Tomorrow is for paying Bell and then, for the most part, all my bills are caught up. The next pay cheque should be more substantive so that I'll be able to pay off what I owe to Arthur and hopefully half of the following month's rent. Whee ! I'm starting to look forward to going home for school. It will be a relief in so many ways, not the least for my wallet. I'm a bit impatient, now that I've figured out what I want to do with my life, for it to get a move on. I'm now in a kind of limbo between current annoying issues and future excitement. This is a much better limbo between crap and more crap, by the way, so this, too, is a great relief.

Time passes - sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly - and inevitably, when you least expect it, it will pass in the manner most irritating to you. Today, it was in the form of the bus. Yes, the Dufferin bus. My nemesis. Yesterday, it was snowing and the traffic was terrible, but I somehow made it to work in under twenty minutes from my arrival at the bus stop to the ROM staff entrance. Today, beautiful and sunny as it is, the roads cleared of snow, traffic moving swiftly, I waited for half an hour. At this point, with no bus in view, I put my hand in the air and hailed a cab. A cab that would cost me most of my first hour's wage. Bloody hell.

I actually began my day after too little sleep, again, and at just past nine in the morning I phoned a certain so-and-so who owes me money. I wanted to make sure that he had received my letter. Unfortunately, either no one was in the office, or they were at meetings, or (and why do I get the feeling this is the likeliest possibility?) they saw my number on call display and sat there saying, "I don't want to get it, you get it..." Anyway, I left a message that will undoubtedly, like all the others, go unanswered.

There are several positions that have opened up in the Visitors Services Dept., both permenant full- and part-time. After all this time, I have finally been convinced that I should apply. My French skills are probably a little below where they ought to be, but not truly terrible, so with some upgrading, or even more practice, things should improve. It's would be very helpful to my finances and a great way to end up before going back to school in the fall. Full time work is my choice, five days a week - it would be with people I know and like - only until the end of the end of the Egyptian exhibit. It would be perfect. And what of the interview I had last week? I don't expect to hear anything about that until tomorrow or Monday, but I just don't think it would give me enough hours. If things remain as they are currently, I'll make more money working the two jobs in Membership than I would working the one plus the education job. While it would be a fun position to have and I think I'd do it well, I'm just not in a place where I have a lot of choice open to me.

Finally, if you ever have to discuss your Bell Telephone account with a customer service representative and the person on the other end identifies themself as "Mrs. Phillips" ask for a different rep. You see, as far as Mrs. Phillips is concerned, you can't just pay some of a bill outstanding, you have to pay all of it. So, since she refused to actually look after me, the customer, instead reminding me that the phone would get cut tomorrow if I didn't pay the entire amount, she told me I had no choice. Hello? I've done this before. There is always choice. That's part of customer service. I asked to speak to her supervisor and she said, "I am Mrs. Phillips. I am a supervisor."

So, I said, "Fine. Presumably, you have a supervisor, too."

"I am a supervisor."

"Perhaps you didn't understand me, I would like to speak to -your- supervisor."

"I am telling you how to procede."

"Look, I don't want to talk to you. Please put me through."

"It's a call-back." Her voice is becoming increasingly acid as we talk.

"Fine have your supervisor call me back. I'm sure I or my roommate will be happy to hear from them."

"What number should they phone?"

"At home."

"Your main line? You aren't calling from there now."

"This is true. I am using a colleague's extension at work because I do not have my own. Call me at home."

"You won't be there."

"It will be fine. This has to be sorted out and you are unwilling to do so."

"Fine. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Sarcasm, now.

"No, you are one of the most rude and least helpful customer service rep I have spoken to."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not rude."

At this point I lost all remaining patience and said, "Whatever you say, Mrs. Phillips, I hope this call was being monitored." Then I hung up.

So, while it's true I won't be home to receive the call, there is not only voicemail where the supervisor can leave his/her name and extension, but there is also Stew, with whom they can leave the same information. It's NOT that hard to be nice and to -try- to be helpful. It really isn't. I know, because I do customer service every day I'm at the ROM. The minute someone wants to escalate to the next level up, I say, "I'm sorry you don't feel I can be of help, but this is how you can reach my supervisor." The end. Out of my hands. Don't argue, honestly.

It seems I am doomed to have 'one of those days'.

Is it Sunday already? Somehow it feels like it should still be the middle of the week. I don't quite know why, but I feel startled to discover that for the majority of people who work regular weeks, it's back-to-work-day only tomorrow. For me it doesn't matter so much, but I am sort of amazed that January is almost over and the milk in my fridge is set to go off in only a matter of a couple of days. On the 28th, the house will turn over to the new owners with whom Stew and I have had fewer than twenty words. They (the future owners, who live below us now) accidentally locked their little kitten out in the foyer (a common problem for the people who used to live below). The kitten is adorable ! It is still tiny, and very fluffy, and at that stage where it really only mews and purrs. I knocked on the neighbours' door and when they opened it I presented them with their kitty. I got more words out of them than ever before: "Thank you, oh thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you !" I smiled and went back upstairs.

Last night, having no plans whatsoever and nothing that needed doing, I rekindled my friendship with Becca, whom I had not spoken to in several months. She's doing well and we had a long, fun conversation. I told her about Scarlette's demise and she reminded me that " all Subarus go to heaven". I envisioned a place full of muddy tracks and dirt roads and snowbanks where hundreds of multi-coloured Subaru four-wheel-drive wagons were low gearing over and through the obstacles... in driverless bliss. I like the image. I can see Scarlette grinding along pitted country roads and having the time of her unlife.

I also watched, finally, Depeche Mode: One Night in Paris, the DVD that Tracy gave me over a year ago. It took this long to watch it because I haven't really had the time or something, but I used Stew's laptop and curled up in my bed. There were some technical difficulties, the dvd drive either having spasms or overheating, or something, and I had to pause the playback every other song. This allowed me to do a lot of talking on the phone, so it was okay and happily, the last six songs played through very smoothly and I was removed to another time, in the company of Tracy, where we saw the same concert here in Toronto. It was lovely. And sexy. I've said it before, I'll say it again, but there is no man on Earth sexier than Dave Gahan. In fact, my biggest complaint was that there wasn't enough of his dancy goodness. Anyway, I went to a very happy place. So, belatedly, thank you, Tracy, your gift is fantastic.

My inner child is ten years old!

The adult world is pretty irrelevant to me. Whether
I'm off on my bicycle (or pony) exploring, lost
in a good book, or giggling with my best
friend, I live in a world apart, one full of
adventure and wonder and other stuff adults
don't understand.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

Time for bed. I've had an enormously productive night. In a recent email I waxed about how strange it was, and yet also pleasurable, to have free time. I am currently without contracts, and frankly, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Anyway, I have all this time to putter around, read, play with the cats, snooze (not for a lack of it, but when other ideas fail), draw, write, etc. It feels quite alien to me after all those intense months leading up to the New Year. Extraordinary. Refreshing. Nice.

Tonight, aside from prepping for tom- er, today's interview, which was less practicing questions and more simply thinking about the stuff I'd like to say, I spent a lot of time overhauling parts of my site. I'm having a lot of trouble matching all the pages, as in the old format to the one I adopted last year - it requires a LOT of patience. In the meantime, I do other updating, for instance, my Prints and Commissions page, which I made way less confusing. All the updates can be found in my Portfolio. Ya, I do need to update the old stuff, but while I might have free time, I don't have THAT much of it.

Anyway, go have a look. I think things look much better now that I've fleshed out the graphic design pages. I added some other pieces and now, if I could just get around to scanning the government brochures I did, oh so long ago... Then it would be even better.

I was sitting - yes, I managed to get a seat - on the bus this morning and couldn't help but stare at this one particular advert. It's for Much Music's Big Shiny Tunes 8 and it has the CD sort of resting against the stockinged legs of someone wearing a leather miniskirt. This is all we see. But finally, I realised why the ad bothered me. Bothered isn't the right word, but what was -wrong- with the ad; the thigh in the fishnet stockings is very male. Now I know why each time I glimpse that ad I think of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. And, speaking of stockings, why is it that though the waistband sits just fine, the crotch always heads for the knees? I mean, good grief, the crotch of my pantyhose is nearly as low as the hem of my skirt. No, I'm not cold, by the way, as I'm wearing my trusty leg warmers that are nearly as old as I am. Sure, they don't quite match, but they're toastier than pants, at least when combined with my long coat.

It was very nice to wake up and look outside to see lots of snow flying around. I don't really get tired of fresh snow falling, at least not until mid-March. The effect of lovely quietude and snowy brightness was lessened, however; due to the City trucks that were making a mess of the street outside my house. I enjoyed a slow rise from bed because it's just so snuggly to wake up with Willi pressed up against me. Also, I have put my new Christmas-present bedspread on my bed and it's warm and fleecy. So warm, in fact, that I've taken my old bedspread right off along with the other quilt I used underneath. A sheet, a flannel, and this cover are more than enough, especially with my space heater working. I might not need the space heater anymore, now, though, because I managed to wrestled the outer door of the sliding doors closed. I haven't been able to get it closed before, but I guess the extreme cold caused it to contract enough to un-snag itself. Hurray for fewer draughts.

So, currently, I'm at the ROM being re-trained for the processing of electronic sales and everything was going fine, but now it isn't and none of us can figure out why. I've decided that the system does not love me anymore. There's a joke in there somewhere, "how many staff does it take to trouble shoot one tiny problem?" At least three. Possibly four. Hey, I never said it would be a funny joke. It's like the computer just decided that nothing would be filed where it ought to be, flipped us the bird, and left for lunch. Now that we think we've fixed the problem, it's taking so long to merge the data and export it that I could take my own lunch and still have to wait. So far, I've been waiting over fifteen minutes for this thing to work. This might mean rebooting. I should have gone for lunch. Oh well.

In other news, I have an interview tomorrow for a short-term contract position that will be running for the duration of the Eternal Egypt exhibit that begins at the end of next month. It would be a fun job, I think, doing educational exhibition interpretation for school groups. It might also be for adult tours, as well, I don't recall. Anyway, I think I would really enjoy waxing educational about Egypt. It's been a long-time interest for me. My only concern, since I'd probably have to give up my data entry work, is that there be enough hours to allow me to live off the income. Other than that, I believe it will be a lot of fun. I'm going to prep for the interview tonight and get up at a reasonable time tomorrow morning to allow me lots of space beforehand in which to make a decent breakfast, putter around the house, etc.

I just typed a beautiful entry and with one well placed paw, Willi has destroyed it.

THANKS, Cat.

Let me begin again.

Well, I have done it, I have submitted my application and $65 processing fee (non-refundable) to OCAS so that in September I will hopefully be attending Sir Sanford Fleming's Museum Management and Curator programme. It will take one year of my life and is comprised of a large internship-placement and I probably should have done this a long time ago. I know my mother likes to remind me that she has been suggesting it since before I finished university. Now, for those who remember the early days of my weblog, when I was attending Seneca for computer animation, you'll remember that I did love it there. It was the only schooling experience that I ever enjoyed. Unfortunately, it cost a lot and did not deliver the goods (employment). In fact, with the exception of my enjoyment and the excitement I had during the course, it was pretty much a frivolity I should have avoided. At half the cost and three times the duration, the Fleming programme makes way more sense, not the least for my career path.

There is a down-side, of course, and in attending said programme, I would have to move to Peterborough. I don't think this would be as horrible as I once perceived it to be. For one, I would be able to pursue my hobbies: arts, horseback riding (I hear there's a horse of substantial size just crying out for my attention), nature, etc. Willi would be pleased with the arrangement, too, I think since she so enjoys it at my mother's. And of course, with my mother is where I would live. This is very good - I know lots of people who loathe the idea of going home again - but I do not. I love it at Mom's. And living rent-free is nice, too. Unfortunately, this will mean putting stuff into storage, yet again, and renting a truck, again, but it's all part of the experience, right? My plan would be to continue working part-time on the weekends at the ROM and then stay at Rick's or with A&C, if they'll have me. And, happily, people would also have the opportunity to come out and visit me in the Petes, something everyone seems to enjoy.

Anyway, there was a great deal more to the original post, but it's now quite late and I lack the eloquence to carry on, or the energy for that matter. Suffice it to say, I feel very positive about this, with the exception of spending $65, and I think this marks a very healthy turn for the better.

Though many have heard me gripe and complain about the myriad of things that make me crazy at the ROM, there are at least as many things that keep me working here. Like tonight, for instance, Chinese New Year Celebration. This is probably my very favourite Friday night event and it happens every year. It's so popular that the media covers it. Every year. I don't get to see much of it, being at the front desk, but the Lion Dancers always start in the Rotunda and they're great. This year they are all kids, probably between twelve and fifteen years old and all of them a bunch of hams. They really perform for the audience, taking the Lions up to the spectators while they dance. In fact, this year, we discovered that the rear dancer in each lion controls the tail and they made them wag ! The kids doing the dancing were quite funny, milling around before it was time to perform. They were pulling marshal arts type poses at each other and one of them grabbed a streamered cymbal and put it on his head to add to the effect.

Whoo, here they come again, people are scurrying out of the way !!!

Awesome ! Man are those boys sweaty now. The girls with the cymbals are pretty flushed too. Now people are asking them questions. I just learned that those adorable wagging tails are actually quite heavy, whereas the heads that are lifted way into the air and -look- heavy aren't so much. They're drumming in the Currelly Gallery again, but the lions are just lying, unattended here in the Rotunda. People are posing with them, taking pictures with them, touching them... This is one of the many things that makes working at the ROM a wonderful experience.

In case you ever wondered why I would work here for five years.

Besides, where do you think I get all my amazing stupid-people stories?

If there was any doubt about it, which there isn't, let me assure you that winter is here. And, in the greatest tradition of seasoned bus riders in history, the weather fouled up any plans I might liked to have kept. What should have taken an hour and forty-five minutes, or so, ended up taking nearly four hours thanks to heavy snow and getting lost in Scarborough. I had a terrific bus buddy named Veronica who woke up as we were inching along Ellesmere and I explained that the bus had been unable to get back on the highway after dropping at Scarborough Town Centre. At one point the bus made a u-turn behind a factory in order to simply start moving again. I'm glad I had the foresight to have Rick meet me at the bus terminal rather than at the movie theatre as we'd initially planned, otherwise he'd have been holding two tickets and I would never have made the film. In the end, we crossed the street and enjoyed dinner at Red Lobster. It wasn't what we planned, but it did the job.

Despite having the flu while at Mom's I did make it to see The Heart of Me on Sunday. It is a British film about two sisters and how their lives entwine with that of a man (who is married to one and having an affair with the other). It takes place pre-war mid-1930s and also ten years later. Mom and I couldn't understand why the two women were brought to turmoil by the man as he was particularly bland and lacking in passion. It was a beautiful movie to look at, though, with gorgeous Art Deco clothing and room settings, etc., but overall, even the excellent acting couldn't make it a movie I'd actually recommend seeing.

We also watched, over a period of two nights, Human Cargo, the CBC-Showcase co-production that we'd taped the week before. It was an excellent mini-series of the sort you just don't normally see come out of North America. It was graphic and honest and completely riveting as the audience is introduced the desperation of the immigration and refugee situation in Canada and to what lengths people will go just to have a chance at freedom in Canada. It was very well written and extremely well acted, especially on the part of the women who were really fabulous, multi-layered characters. Kate Nelligan gave the best performance I think I've ever seen her give. This is not a show we mean to tape over, it is simply too good. I think I'll loan it to Rick, who only caught the last two episodes.

Nothing much else to report except that I'm awfully hungry so I'll go and get a snack from the cafeteria.

This morning, I drove into Toronto to work my shift at the ROM and it was such a lovely day, with the exception of my nosehairs freezing between the parking lot and the front entrance. There was an amazing bank of cloud hanging over Lake Ontario, with tendrils of cloud rising up. It must have been an effect of condensation, with fog rising off the water because the air was so much colder. Then all the water crystals just hung there, not really moving. It was like a great, white, fluffy escarpment. Ooooh, I love weather. Even when it's cold. Maybe especially when it is cold. So long as I'm dressed for it. The drive was really easy, the only traffic problems directly over city centre where some stalled cars were stuck in the right hand lanes. In fact, there were a number of stalled cars all the way down Avenue Road to the ROM. I think my final count was five, which made the traffic crawl. Brief entry. Nothing much to report.

Today I took no chances with the weather. I dug out my fuzzy hat, rather than my fedora or beer toque, bundled myself into my old, long wool coat, and quietly grumbled about still not having picked up my long scarf that I'd left at Nocturnalia. I'd go pick it up today, only it's so cold that I don't want to walk down to Queen and Spadina to pick it up. Of course, if I'm going to walk down to the Bus Terminal... We'll see. I might just balk and grab something to eat before taking the subway.

It's very quiet in the Membership office today. Almost everyone is at a meeting of some sort and the other two part-timers just left. There are only about three of us in here now. It's chilly, too. Just once, I would like the ROM to get the heating/cooling system right. We either freeze or bake, and it bears no relation to what it's like outside. The new system, or rather the updated system, we're now using in the office does not make things easier. In fact, it takes three times as long to enter a new member into the database than it did before. How is that more efficient? It is no surprise that in the time that we, the part-timers, were not upstairs that the whole office fell behind. Three times as long.

I don't know whether the kitten will still be at the appartment the next time I go back. She's been a pleasant addition to the household, even Tobe thinks so on occasion. It's terribly sweet how she curls up in bed and she lies in the sink (and still barely fills it). She's become kind of chatty, chirping and "merring" in her hoarse little voice. If she would stop trying to climb me instead of jumping, that would be an improvement, but even that is only slightly irritating. She's very gentle, though, which is good, not once swatting me with her claws extended. I do like kittens.

I ran into K----- of the campaign today at the Dufferin station. He's looking good. He's glad to be out of the basement where he used to work for the UofT Computer Store. It was a brief chat. He was between two meetings in the area and I was on my way to work. I'm glad things have worked out for him; he's one person that deserved getting a position after all the crap he was put through. Unfortunately, I feel kind of alienated from him because of all the shite that's gone on with me and the rest of the City Hall Crew. If I never speak to B----- again, so be it, I could care less. And as for He Who Shall Not Be Named, I left a message for him at the beginning of the week. Am I surprised that he hasn't returned the call? Not in the slightest. It's nice that he could afford to fly to Sudan but not to pay me. Anyway, this is a three-paycheque month for me, so that is a very good thing.

At some point, we have to take our Christmas tree down. Both the one at my place and the one at Mom's. I guess the one chez moi will have to wait a little while longer, since I'm not really around to deal with it. Mom and I will probably take ours down tomorrow. *sigh* There's no putting it off, the Epifany has passed, the Wise Men have brought their gifts... it's time to move on. So now we enter the lull of winter, when it's still dark for most of the day, without a break to keep us sane. The next long weekend is not until the 9th of April (Good Friday). There's no mid-term break for me, either, being out of school and all. Maybe we should bring back the Feast Days of old... The 20th is the Feast of Saint Sebastian (he'd be the one who got stuck with all the arrows). There was something to be said for Feast Days, you know? They don't even have to relate to Saints. Just Days of Feasting in General.

My God, is it ever cold out - I mean REALLY cold. Winter is here and it's made my toes numb. Tonight was one of those nights when I could have -really- used Scarlette, rather than wait half an hour in the frigid wind up at A&C's place for the bus. Actually, cold does not discribe what it is tonight. The windchill makes it -22C tonight, and that's a whole lot colder than the actual temperature of -12, which is pretty frigging cold. Now, I wouldn't be whiny about this, normally, because as most people who know me know that I like the winter, except I was not dressed for it tonight. I was dressed for it this afternoon, but by the time the full moon was over head, my sweater and jacket weren't cutting it.

I am so cold, that I cannot think of anything else to write about.

It's nice and also weird to be back upstairs in the Membership office. I enjoy the ordered chaos - it's hard to explain. Stuff happens up here, and there is usually some fundamental organisation to it, but sometimes it's really hard to see. Someone should be brought in to come up and make this office efficient, but then again, that might result in jobs being lost, so nevermind. Anyway, I'm up here doing office clerkish stuff because the office manager is away on holiday. I don't mind doing phones and whatnot, it's laid back and, generally, it's sort of pleasant to be able to solve problems.

There's a kitten staying at my appartment this week. Ruby was a gift to Stew's goddaughter for Christmas. While she and her family are on holiday somewhere in South America, the kitten is with us. Willi, who is in the Petes needs never know, while Tobe is somewhere between totally jealous and utterly fascinated. Ruby is pretty well behaved, though she tends to think I'm here in order to be climbed. Happily, when she does climb me, she weighs almost nothing so it's not a big deal. Tobe, on the other hand, who used me to escape Ruby's attention, weighs WAY too much to be clinging to my chest and neck. Big ow. Big. The kitten is very sweet, though, and she curls up under my chin in bed, purring like a little motor.

Anyway, I tried to post yesterday, but Blogger seemed to suffer an internal error and my post disappeared. So, I'll try again.

2004 was rung in nicely for me when on the second of January, my best friend, Tracy made the unsurprising announcement that she was officially engaged and I am to be her Maid of Honour. It's exciting, even if this has been a long time coming, and I told her that I'd be more than happy to help her organise things. There is a lot of time between now and Sept/Oct. of 2005 to get things done, but for the heck of it, I took her down to Nocturnalia to speak with Nicole to create a concept for her wedding clothing. For A&C's wedding we went to Heretic, but Nicole is the specialist in period-style clothing and that's what Tracy wants. Even better is that I might be able to wear my gown from A&C's wedding again - the colours are nearly the same. I shall discuss it. Also, I informed Tracy that I would be doing her invitations, no ifs, ands or buts about it. She was okay with that.

I went out to Peterborough on Saturday night, following my last day of working the Art Deco exhibition here at the ROM. The last two weeks had been a terrible zoo; everyone that hadn't come to see the exhibit in the previous three and a half months (and that was a lot of people) all came between the 26th of December and the 4th of January. I am more than happy to not have to deal with peevish members and people who ask the same questions over and over again. It was very nice to be able to go home and vegetate for a few days.

Speaking of going home, I am seriously contemplating going back to school this autumn. Not back to university, mind you, the higher degree will wait a while longer, but to Sir Sanford Fleming College in Peterborough for their museum studies programme. It is apparently the only one of its kind at the college level in Canada, and it's one of the best in North America. Or so I have heard. I've left a message for the director of the programme, a man my mother has met through her work for the Peterborough Symphony Orchestra. I think it would be useful to have a word with him about whether this is really something I should do. Regardless, I'm going to send in an application to the programme - I can always change my mind. September is a long way off yet and nothing is carved in stone.

I wonder who thought that carving in stone gave something permanancy. The Egyptians were masters at defacing and recarving stone surfaces and others have done the same for centuries.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, everybody !! Welcome to 2004. More survivors were found, amazingly, in Bam. It's not the worst start to a year, I guess, at least for a few people. As for me? The last night of the year was spent on Rick's couch mostly playing "Vice City" on his Xbox and watching The Secret of NIMH on DVD. That's such a lovely animated movie - surprisingly old, too. It was made in 1982, which is a pretty foreign number for me to type on the keyboard. I was five when it came out, and while I can't recall if I saw it in theatre, I did see it a few years later when we rented it for one of my childhood Hallowe'en parties. Rick and I opened a little bottle of bubbly and toasted the New Year and then returned to playing video games. It wasn't the most exciting night we could have spent, but it was really nice and totally laid back.

Stew is asleep in his room, which I did not realise when I came in a little while ago. I turned on my stereo and turned up the volume on one of my Christmas presents. I flipped on the hall light to give some light to the house and discovered him. Oops. He is all wrapped up in the dark, Tobe very pleased beside him. It seems he's had a tiring New Year's Eve. Unlike myself. The most exciting thing Rick and I did yesterday was go shopping after I was done at the museum. I bought a beautiful sweater on sale at Jacob and helped Rick shop for many fine pants and shirts at the Bay. Because he was using gift cards from his parents, he also bought me a fedora that was on sale for only thirty bucks. I'm wearing it right now and with the exception of when I went to bed last night, I've been wearing since we picked it up. I'm also wearing my old gold stud earings for the first time in a few years because I've developed an infection in my left hole. Not wanting to have it close as it heals and have to get it repierced, I squinched my face as I eased the sharp post through and now I'm waiting for the swelling to go down. This is why I won't go through another piercing. Though I did consider having another pair of holes put in my ears, it's just not worth it. Anyway, at least it's not bleeding.

I don't have much to say so I'll just wish everyone all the best for the new year and hope for an ending to the insanity that has siezed the world. It's a lot to hope for, but it is a far more worthwhile desire than a list of resolutions that almost no one ever sticks to anyway. Be good to each other.