Make Ye Merry (now with Jello shooters!)

So I got back from my vacation 2 days ago. It was a crazy whirlwind of friends, family and shopping. Just a whirl of wind. I had a wonderful time, met lots of people, and spent the equivalent of a small country's national debt.

Some highlights: my man's truck broke down within an hour of my arrival, and so I met his ENTIRE FAMILY with no prep time. I still reeked like airplane, and in this one rare instance, your friend the Help turned into a shy little girl, it was crazy. I was seriously intimidated, so I basically kept my trap shut. Which of course, scared the bejesus out of anyone who knows me.

I went to a church thing for kids in Perth, just as a tag-along, and as soon as I arrived, this sweet little autistic boy picked me out of the crowd and we spent some awesome time together, making each other laugh. I just fell in love with this little boy, and it was pretty clear that he was delighted with me too (he tried to follow me to the car when I left). This little guy kinda made my Christmas.

Fancy night was everything any of us could have hoped for.

Every shopping place was a FREAKING ZOO and everyone was all up in each others personal space, and everyone was all frowny and grumbly - except for me of course. I was so delighted to be there, and to shop, and see all the lights and babies, and hear the Christmas music......

I'm sad to be back, for sure. I miss my friends already, I miss my man. At the same time, I'm glad to be home. I love Christmas in the north. I have the tackiest Christmas tree ever, and I love being surrounded by friends. I miss my family, and there are moments I wish I was with them, but I wouldn't trade my life here for anything. This year, we play rock band.

I hope you all have yourselves a merry little Christmas. I hope you have a giant turkey, and plentiful gifts. I hope you laugh to crying at least once this season. I hope you dance with someone you love. I hope you get glitter in your hair.

Merry Christmas my friends.

The Help

Allllllllmost there

So it's tomorrow. I leave tomorrow. In case you were wondering, tomorrow is the day. Can you tell that I'm a little excited?? Holy butterflies Batman.

I'm excited to go shopping, that's for sure. I have a stupid amount of money put away for this trip, and really only 4 days to spend it. Think I can do it? Yeah, I don't think there's gonna be a problem. I'm very excited to see two dear friends who have moved from Iqaluit. I've made them a bunch of Christmas ornaments, and cookies, and I'm seriously looking forward to having a booze fueled night of wrapping gifts and talking.

But mostly, I'm so beyond excited about seeing my favorite man. It's been almost three weeks since we last saw each other, which sounds like nothing, until you factor in the life stuff that has happened since he's gone - final exams, work stress, friends struggling.....it's been a long month, that much is certain. Thing is, this man, he is very good to me. He is like a balm to my insanity. Thing is, I've never been this happy. I've never worked this hard before, and I never imagined trying to balance everything would be as hard as it has proven to be.....and yet, I'm happy. I wish I could put into words how happy, and how grateful I am for this happiness. There are lots of people in the world who are unhappy, who have a harder life DAILY then I could ever imagine. It's not just the man, it is a culmination of amazing people in my life that make me this happy, that I am so grateful for. I wish I could properly describe this awesome feeling.

I'm not sure if I'll be blogging while I'm gone, but I will certainly be thinking of you dear readers. I genuinely wish you all every happiness.

The Help

Holy Crap, ZERO spelling mistakes in this post!

These two days are taking FOREVER. Of frigging course, cause I'm so excited about Thursday, the best day ever, the magical day I head down south. these days are going so slow, I feel like I should be adding days to the calender, not taking away.

So I'm going to tell you some of my Christmas wishes. These are wishes, they don't need to be logical.

1. Sure, sure, peace on earth, good will toward men (and women, and kids, and dogs, and goldfishes)
2. I wish I could paint
3. An awesome pair of shoes (is it asking too much to want shoes with zombies all over 'em?)
4. A disco ball and fog machine in my apartment
5. I want something pretty. Jewelry, not like, a peacock feather. Obviously.
6. The perfect red lipstick
7. Lots of sweet, sweet kisses
8. I wish that everyone I know and love a wealth of health and happiness
9. I wish that you, my dear readers, continue to read, and comment, and hopefully enjoy these words that I write.

I would wish for a cuteness parade full of puppies, but this actually happened yesterday! Honest to blog, I almost died.

The Help

Not bad, not bad at all.

Since I've finished exams, I have been obnoxiously busy, but in the nerdliest way....trying to displace Martha Stewart is my ultimate goal. I'm still springing out of bed early every morning, no matter how much I want to sleep in. But! I get so much done!

Like today. I did laundry, made Christmas cookies, started on a nerdly ornament for a friend, did laundry, kept an appointment at the bank......imagine my life if I were to have a minute of free time. I would probably need to be tied down. But all this activity got me thinking about the soundtrack of my current life. Theres two songs on regular rotation in my living room dance party list, and I had the same reaction to both initially - not only did I HATE these songs, they kinda freaked me out. The first one, "Maniacs" by Hawksley Workman.....it made me mad, and I hated it so bad, I wanted to light it on fire. But then it kinda got under my skin. And then I was thinking about it all the time. Then I wanted to hear it again to see if this is what it actually sounded like. And then, I loved it. It was the same basic progression for the second song - "Bird Flu" by M.I.A. Scared the bejesus out of me, I mean this girl is a straight up freak. And now I listen to it at least a few times a week. Funny how that happens hey?

In other news, we had our staff Christmas party a few nights ago, and your friend The Help, won herself a dandy new Nikon camera. And it is a mere THREE SLEEPS til I see my darling again. Sweet kisses, how I have missed thee.

The Help

Update: My left eyeball continues to go uneaten

I am sick to DEATH of talking about school, so I'm just gonna assume you all are sick of hearing about it. So, even though I have two exams left, I have already begun my Christmas.

I'm listening to a little Wyclef right now (oh, but how I love Wyclef Jean. He should feel unclean with the way I look at him sometimes), most decidedly NOT thinking about school. I'm thinking about the things I'm going to bake. Tomorrow, just a pizza (but from scratch my loves, that's right), but then Saturday, when school is actually done, I'm going to make my signature chocolate chip/butterscotch/pecan cookies. I'm going to make peanut butter cookies, possibly with Hershey's kisses in the middle  - this is entirely dependent on the availability of said kisses, but I'll deal with that when the time comes.

See, I host a party every year, on Christmas Eve. It's become quite an event - I make my own nerdy Christmas singalong books, and we have us a good sing song. Sometimes with dancing. I usually spend about 3 days cooking and baking for this party, but of course, this year, I will be down south until just 2 days before, so I gotta prep early. Cause this year, this is it my friends - I will have Rock Band. Let there be rock!!!

Last year's Christmas Eve blowout lasted until 5:30 in the morning, when I kicked everyone out, as I had to be awake four hours later to make a turkey. Last year was admittedly different - we've had some dear friends move away since last Christmas, and while we're all still in touch, there is definitely a hole where these friends once stood. And last year too, we had THE INTERNATIONALS (always typed and spoken in caps, with jazz hands if at all possible).
\
Three lovely people, Stephanie, Stelios and Barbara (notice the use of names there? never happens right??) came onto us from Holland (where none of them are from) to study throat singing or drinking or something very important like that. They came here, knowing no one, and stayed with another dear friend, and thus, they were us. Jesus, the drinking. It was amazing. Amazing that everyone survived. I mean, we were basically drunk from Halloween to new years last year. The poor, poor, INTERNATIONALS had no idea what they were getting into when they took up with us...but we didn't just drink. We talked and sang, and danced, and became entwined in each others lives. I have a playlist that Stephanie put together, and this playlist has opened up a world of music to me - this playlist is so peppy and joyful and fun, it began the trend of living room dance parties in my apartment. I am grateful.

Although it's been a year, and I don't know when I'll ever see them again, they are important. We still talk about them at lunch. I still have a picture of us (laughing our asses off of course) next to my tv.

And this, this is why Christmas is awesome.

The Help

I'm sure you can hear my screams, where ever you are

Holy Sweet Zombie Jesus, it keeps happening!! I write a blog, and just as I'm about to publish, the internet service goes down the shitter and I lose the whole mess. It is so frigging frustrating. It's come to the point where I'd prefer to pluck out my left eye ball and eat it, rather then continue to lose out like this. Wait a second. If I did indeed pluck out my left eye ball and eat it, I'd probably get a day off right? Excuse me, I must go find an appropriate sized spoon.

So. Less then a week. Less then a week, and I'm done school, and my boss is back in town, thus taking some of my work responsibility off of my shoulders. Thank God. While I do take a certain amount of pride in the things I've gotten done in the last few months, and the last few weeks, I'm on the verge of something here. Something involving screaming and flames, and possibly throwing spears.

I did, however, get my pretty new pretty dress yesterday, and it's so frigging beautiful, it made me want to cry. Fancy night is shaping up to be quite something.

I just gotta get through this week. Four exams, one assignment left....I was doing ok, but then me and chemistry got in a fight and broke up again. I'll figure it out, I always do.

I'm getting so drunk next weekend.

The Help

Life Happened

I'm so sorry for my lengthy absence my friends, I have indeed missed you all. Life got in the way for me for the last few weeks:

School has been super extra crazy, cause we all realised last week that it's ending soon, so we have to fit everything in RIGHT NOW....I have a mere four assignments and four exams in the next two weeks. No big deal.

Yesterday was the Christmas Craft Fair. Holy God, what a state. Watching the sea of people all arrive at once was like seeing a bunch of drug dealers with a free pass arrive at a pharmacy. Frightening! But also wonderful. It's not often that the entire community comes out at once, and as mad as it was, as pressed and harried as it was, it was also awesome. It felt like Christmas began yesterday - I saw friends I haven't seen in a while, got puked on by a sweet baby girl, and made a zillion and a half dollars. And thank goodness, this craft fair money is what's paying for my much needed up coming vacation, and all of a sudden, the money is there. It is such a relief - oh, the things I do to myself. Every year, I manage to convince myself that this year, this is the one. I'm not going to sell anything, and my hard work will have gone to waste, and I'll be broke for the effort. And every year, I am delighted by the wonderful response to the fruits of my labour. I am a lucky girl.

My darling, my favorite man, left today. It was awful. I know, I know, I'm going to see him in a few weeks, but it's not the same. I've grown accustomed to his face. He rubs my stupid hurty hand when it hurts, he talks me out of my various insane delusions (you know the kind: gonna go broke at the craft fair, gonna fail all my finals, etc), he tells me everything I cook is awesome. And yes, while I am going to see him soonish (and meeting the fam, eep), it'll be quite some time after that before we are together again. Like months. And, again, yes, I know there are far worse things, but still my heart is sad today. He is my very favorite person.

On to the good news. Of the four assignments, I have two done, and the other two are half done. Not so bad. I'm going to see Harry Potter (again) tonight. I finally got started on my Christmas shopping. I am blessed with the most wonderful friends, who are holding my hand when my man can't.

The Help

High Friends in Places. Wait.

I've lived in Nunavut for about 3 and a half years, and though I have applied on MANY occasions, I never got my Nunavut health card. Honestly, it wasn't something I thought about too often (til I needed it of course, then I'd go about starting the application process again). The first time I applied was December 12th, 2007. You'll note, it's 2010.

The office where you send such applications had no record of any applications on my part, let alone many. And the bit that makes it all sticky - I can't get tuition money without the health number. So I applied with vigor this time, having sent the most recent application about 6 months ago. About 2 months ago, I get my application back (Hey, I'm taking this as leaps and bounds - they're acknowledging that I'm alive!) because they need a couple other bits of information (that I have provided several times, but whatever). I send these necessary bits, and begin an email campaign. I'm trying to impress on these guys that I need this to further my career, life etc. I have never received a response to these emails.

I was beginning to get VERY concerned. I can't register for next semester without paying for this semester, and I feel like the 2nd half of first year might be vital to getting to the first half of second year. Concerned may be a bit of an understatement. I couldn't sleep, and was sick with worry.

Then I mention this to a friend, over many glasses of wine when we had that hen night. This girl is a frigging ninja! She emailed the application guys, and they immediately called me. THEY HAVE PHONES?!?! I assumed from the lack of use, that the phones were cut out in the last budget. Then this friend came over and collected my information, and half a frigging hour later, I have a health care number. She's a witch! Voodoo perhaps?

Man, does it ever pay to have friends on the inside. For my part, I'll be naming my firstborn after her, regardless of the sex.

The Help

On the Sunny side

Things aren't so murky and dark now, thank goodness. Well, it's dark out, but....oh, never mind.

Date night was lovely, hen night was lovely, and holy God, the amount of wine imbibed over those two nights....I cannot confirm or deny, but I may have had a slightly drunken adventure in Ventures on Sunday night (Ventures is one of the two general/grocery stores). It was fun actually (if it did indeed happen), we spent a bunch of time playing with the neat-o toys that appear every Christmas, and like a good girl, I did NOT set off 14 dancing Santa's that played a tinny version of "Jingle Bells". The store clerk did though, and even though I did not know her, I made fun of her for it, and we had a grand laugh. Or didn't.

A month from today my pretties, a month from today, I will be on vacation. A month from right now, I will presumably have a drink in hand somewheres, without a care in the world. Just need to get through those pesky intervening 4 weeks.

School was cancelled again today. I literally haven't had a class since last Wednesday. Whereas at first, it was kind of fun, now it's getting to the point where I'm afraid I'm forgetting things. I guess I need a reassuring level of stress, or I get stressed. How's that for confusing? My poor, poor boyfriend.

Bought myself a fancy-schmancy dress today. On line of course, so I won't see it for several weeks, as it's coming from California, but buying that frivolous pretty thing lifted my heart to new heights.

This evening a good friend and I begun planning of an Iron Chef styles cook off. We are both insanely excited now, there is nothing more fun then showing off for your peeps in the kitchen, and we delight in showing off for each other. I've been feverishly clicking through this giant cookbook lovingly referred to as the interweb, and oh, my. I believe I'll be making a spicy pork tenderloin in a caramel sauce. Feel free to be jealous.

I heard from a dear friend today, one whom I'll be seeing in a month. Things are looking up.

The Help

What a week

Well, at least it's not just me.

Yep, it's official, everyone has lost their marbles. And instead of bending over to pick them up, we're all sliding around in a macabre slapstick parody.

This week, misunderstandings and hurt feelings abound. Luckily, I've basically only been on the periphery, though I am not without a couple of burn marks on my heart. It really does feel like highschool without the good bits - the skinny-ness and debt free-ness. Fraught!

So I do what anyone would do. I wait it out. I hold the people who need holding, and scold the people that need scolding. I try and throw myself into my schoolwork, though it has been admittedly hard, it's hard to concentrate with so much worry for loved ones pressing on my chest.

I think I've done my share of hurting as well, though certainly not intentionally. I've been so involved in school, and work, and pushing, pushing, pushing to succeed and get it right, that I have neglected some of the people I love the most. Again, I am so blessed that most understand, most forgive. And thank God, because there have been many times that these dear friends have been the only thing keeping my head up, and my nails painted.

Tomorrow night, I'm gonna have a hen night with at least one of my girls. You can bet your sweet bippy that there's gonna be wine. Probably tears too.

Tonight, it's date night. When I get home from work tonight, the most wonderful man since my daddy is going to put his arms around me, and tell me everything is going to be alright (and offer to break legs if necessary, God bless him). Then we're going to dinner and a movie. I should probably study, but I need an infusion of real humanity, with a dash of humility. I need to not worry for one whole night.

Go tell someone how awesome they are. They need to hear it, promise.

The Help

City-wide Insanity, Part deux

Cause it sounds sexier in french, non?

First of all, I wrote a giant entry yesterday, only to have the kick ass internet crap out before publishing, and because I was in that hazy space between saving and publishing, NEITHER happened. Which was awesome. Really. Awesome.

I'm not gonna try and re-live yesterday's blog, cause I don't remember a greater chunk of it, and I'm in a relatively better mood then I was yesterday anyway. It's been a weird couple of days my friends.

Those of you who know me, know that I'm I'm a horror movie fanatic - zombies in particular, but I'll take anything really, as long as it's actually scary and not a people horror. Does that make sense? No? Ok, here's the thing. Zombies aren't real, and they have no working brains, so the nasty things that they get on with don't scare me. Ghosts, ghouls, witches etc, none of them scare me (not because I doubt their existence as such, probs much more because I'm far too boring to ever have a real life frightening encounter). The horror movies that I don't like are the ones where people are the freaks, and doing other stuff to people (example those Saw movies. eeesh), and this is because it's totally believable that people are freaks, cause people are freaks.

So bearing this in mind, I went to see Paranormal Activity 2 a few nights ago. When I went to see the first one, someone told me it was the scariest thing they'd ever seen, so I obviously called them a wussy (not quite that word, but it rhymes) and said I would go see it for myself, and tell them what was what with scary stuff. I was so wrong. I actually cried, I was so scared. Kept a friend up all night cause I was too scared to go to sleep. For reals.

I was eagerly anticipating the sequel. Or first attempt, the movie was sold out. So we tried again a few nights ago, and managed to score some tickets, got our popcorn, and sat in wait. When the movie began, it played for a few minutes, then the power went out. When the lights came back on, the system needed to re-boot. This happened four times. Then we got about 45 minutes into the movie, things are starting to get good, then the power went again. This time the owner of the theatre came and told us they wouldn't be starting it up again as the entire city was without power now. Reeealllly.

My fella and I head outside, and it's frigging anarchy! Sleet is fallin sideways and landing/sticking as ice, the whole city is dark, there are cars gone off the road (some in a big way) and there aren't enough cabs to go around. When we finally did get a cab back to our very dark building we found that our phones were almost dead, with no way to re-charge them. Awesome.

On the good news angle, for some reason, all the schools (including mine) were shut down yesterday, which was like manna from figging heaven cause this gave us nursing types a few extra days to study for a dreaded exam. The weird thing is, though it was snowing, it was quite nice out.

On to the bad news. I gave up my choir yesterday. It completely broke my heart, just telling them was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. But something had to give, and I've got no give left. It's not just the exhaustion, there were a lot of factors at play, and I've got no coping mechanisms left. To my dear Choiring Squad, you have made my life. Maybe if things calm down in my work or personal life, we can start up again, but until then.....

My fella got his plane ticket this week. So, two weeks from tomorrow, he goes home. I'm really happy for him, he's been pretty home sick, and if there is anyone who is as tired as I am, it is him. He needs the break. And while I understand all of these things, I'm still sad. I will miss him dearly. I get a little hitch in my throat whenever I think about it for too long.

That is all for today my darling dears. I hope your lives are stress and insanity free. I hope you have a warm jacket.

The Help

S'Wonderful

I slept in this morning, for the first time in I have no idea how long. Frigging long. And I feel like a new woman, stress levels that were reaching a dangerous high in these last few days have taken a dip. And thank goodness, cause I was getting to the stomping around, ripping shit off of walls - in an admittedly amazing Godzilla impersonation - stage.

So living in Iqaluit, sometimes, it's like living in the Hollywood high school version of reality tv, just without all the plastic surgery and bronzer. It's one of those places where everybody knows everybody, and your ex's are also your best friend's ex's and theres all kinds of overlap in friend groups and such. Which is cool except it seems like this time of year, every year, everyone is all frigging fraught. Drama! I have a theory that everyone knows whats coming (winter) so everyone loses their EVER LOVING MIND. See, it's dark out right now, and it's 3:30 in the afternoon. A week from now it'll be darker, a month from now, people reach a fever pitch of insanity. It's like your body knows that it's gonna be dark all the time, and you're subconsciously preparing to hibernate for the winter, but without the added benefit of all that sleep. It was really confusing for me, my first winter here. I was all tired all the time, but couldn't figure out why. I'd eat supper at 2 in the afternoon, and be baffled when it was 7 and I was hungry again. So my first winter, I took the attitude of, "well, it's dark out, must be time for a drink."

So why the drama? Why the lost threads of sanity? Excellent question, and frigged if I know. It's not like anyone has to work less, or get paid less, or there are less flights out or even crappier then usual selection of stuff at the grocery store. People certainly don't party less, in fact, if possible, people party more. Everything just feels a little frantic. It's probably a combination of the dark, and the knowledge that it's gonna get really fucking cold, really soon. Probably. Maybe people are just nuts, hard to say.

In other news, a startling number of people have read this little blog in the time that I've been writing, and I want to express my gratitude and sheer amazement. God love ya, every one. It's really good for my head to think that people are listening, and to all of you who have mentioned the blog to me at the grocery store, and the airport, and school - know that you make my day every time. Thank you.

My fella didn't work today, so I got an extra helping of sweet, sweet kisses. I am the luckiest.

The Help

Today is going to be a little short because I realised that given the mood I'm in, and the heavy load of stress, I would do nothing but bitch anyway.

I'm trying my friends.

So what I would like to bring up - tomorrow is Remembrance Day, and we have the day off for a reason - well, you all will have the day off for a reason. Promise me you'll think about it k? I'm not saying behave as if you are at a funeral, just take a minute or ten to think about how lucky we all are. As Canadians, as humans.

The Help

Ruh-Roh

Guess what I got the weekend? An xbox. Ruh-Roh indeed.

Ok well, it's kinda hilarious, it's a "gift" for "me", but I haven't actually used it, and I won't until at least Christmas (when I get Rock Band, and THEN look out), but don't worry folks, the xbox hasn't been sitting in a lonely corner collecting dust. My wonderful boyfriend has been keeping it company, keeping it entertained if you will, for the last few days playing Fallout, or Fallin or Fallover or something. I've never owned a gaming system before, and besides Rock Band, the last video game I played was super mario brothers in grade 7. And I was pretty bad at that. But Rock Band, I'm all over, like bacteria (can you tell what I've been up to lately?)

I may have been studying a bit as well. I also got myself a whiteboard over the weekend, and my fella installed it on a wall in my apartment for me.....apparently I'm like a nerd in the movies - headphones on, scribbling on/staring at a white board, muttering to myself about sciencey things. Throwing papers around like confetti when I've memorized something. If this is what the next four years are going to be like (and maybe more, but we'll talk about that later), I shake my head in pity for you all. I alternate between studying with ferocity to being a gibbering mess.......3 and a half years to go!! Whoo-hooo!!!

Good news! Just over a month til my vacation and SHOPPING (I'm gonna build a bear, yeah, you heard me). I've still got an A+ average. I got many sweet kisses today.

All in all, shit's ok.

The Help

Joseph in the garden!

I saw last night, THREE different houses with Christmas lights up and blinking. What is wrong with you people?!?! Christmas lights up....Halloween candy isn't even gone yet! What are ya trying to do? Stress out normal people such as myself? Ok, maybe normal is a bit much, but good God y'all. I considered knocking on the doors of these awful awful people and offering the free service of throwing up on them.

So I survived midterms. It was touch and go for a while, I didn't think we would all make it out alive but, we did, AND I didn't even light my hair on fire. Good times. I got my marks back, and well, I did good. this is the hardest, craziest thing I've ever done, but honestly, aside from my complete lack of social life, it's really been working out. Thank goodness.

I'm a worrier, so I had all these horrible visions of losing all of my friends and being that weird lady who talks to herself on the street. Well, I am that weird lady who talks to myself on the street, but I never respond to myself, so I'm probably ok. Right?

Sorry I haven't written in so long, I've just been driven round the bend with studying and whatnot. I'll try and get back into a more regular schedule this week. In exchange for your forgiveness, I offer up a slice of deep fried awesome - www.poorlydressed.com
Be prepared to not just laugh, but stare in wonder at these people. Do you not own a mirror? Or have you somehow convinced yourself that dressing like this is acceptable? Or worse, attractive? Aaah, people are baffling.

The Help

Since it's Halloween

I'll tell you my one scary story. at one point in my youth, I lived in a dirthole apartment in downtown St. John's, across from the Kirk. The Kirk is oh, we'll say Anglican, but I'm not positive, and I lived on the corner of Long's Hill and Livingston streets.

It was a second floor apartment, and needed a key to get in the main door, and a different key to get in to my apartment, and there was only one other family (ooohh, sketchy, let me tell ya) that had a key to the main door. So weird stuff went down while I lived there, first run of the mill weird stuff - the tv would turn off with no one near it, or the remote control. The dvd player would shut off, but the tv wouldn't, so there would be this sudden blaring of static. Then the cats started acting weird. The two of them would sit in front of this one bare wall and just scream. Gave me the fucking willies to tell the truth.

This is the freaky bit. There was one day i came home from work and got in the shower. This place was seriously old, and the bathroom door always stuck, you had to throw your weight into it to open it. So I was in the shower, and I could hear a man humming. I just assumed it was my boyfriend, though I did think it was strange that he didn't tell me he was home. Then the bathroom door opened and I heard something drop  into the sink, something small and metal. The bathroom door closed, and again I heard a man humming. I took my time, cause I wasn't concerned at that point. But when I got out of the shower, there was no one home. There was no music on, and there were no windows open. No men lived downstairs. There was nothing in the sink, let alone something small and metallic.

I thought all of that was pretty strange, but I would just ask my bf about it whenever he got back. He came home several hours later, and had been so far out of the city, that theres no chance it could have been him. Naturally, I lost my ever loving mind.

I did some research (and I was doing a Folklore and Supernatural course at the time), and it turns out that when the Catholics came to Newfoundland back in 18whatever, they dug up all the bodies from the Anglican cemetery to bury them in a Catholic one. they stacked the bodies like cordwood on the corner of Long's Hill and Livingston, and a bunch of people caught diseases from the dead bodies and bit it in my building.

That certainly explained why the haunted hike had a stop under my window every night.

True story.
Happy Halloween!

The Help

Taken 'er easy tonight

Finished my last (ish) mid-term today. It was such a hot mess, I don't even wanna talk about it, but I came out, if not unscathed, at least alive.

Tomorrow is my fella's birthday, and I swear to God, I'm more excited about it then he is. I think birthdays are important, I think it's important to recognise how glad we all are that you were borned on this very day. I love my birthday, I get all dressed up every year  - a shin dig lovingly referred to as the Messy Dressy (we get dressed up, and then get right messy. RIGHT messy.) Last year, I got home two days after I left my apartment. Well, at least the pictures are hilarious. I'm not going to tell you about any of the things that I'm doing or giving him for his birthday until after, in case he reads this tonight.

So now, I wrap gifts, while listening to old Pearl Jam, and think about how very lucky I am to be on this side of the dirt after the hellish week I've had. Shit's ok man.

The Help

Several of my friends have recently mentioned the fact that I never do anything anymore. It is so true. I really miss my old life sometimes. But it's midterms, and I gotta keep my average up, and beyond all of that theres days I don't have time to shower, let alone be a social butterfly. But I miss it.

I did some calculations, and it turns out that in the last 8 weeks, I've had exactly three days without either work or school. There's been lots of days with one or the other, but only three without both. IN EIGHT WEEKS. I think we should all consider ourselves lucky that I haven't lit anyone on fire (don't think I haven't thought about it, oh no, I'm just biding my time, mwahahahaha). And considering this, I'm doing pretty good you know. My grades are still good, I haven't told any idiots what idiots they are, my man is still my man......there's defiantly some downfalls though. I sat and bawled like a little girl yesterday, because I was just so tired, I couldn't comprehend the idea of getting up and giving a presentation after just finishing a midterm, and then going in to work for 8 hours. But the girls in my class rallied around me, I gave the presentation (and got 100% on it) and got in to work, acting like nothing ever happened. My fella gave me the greatest pep talk, and reminded me of how soon this vacation is coming. I am so blessed.

I would like to apologise to everyone for my disappearance, it's not a lack of love my darlings, it's a lack of hours. I'm sorry to all the people who I've not had the time to email (Miss C, my weensy lawyer friend, I love you). I want to thank the Choiring Squad for making my life.

For the love of God, go hug a nurse, they went through hell for you. And if you want your throat to go un-punched, don't tell me I look tired.

The Help

Things that go "Holy Fuck!" in the night

One night last week, we were graced with a pretty awesome wind storm. I love this stuff, it reminds me of home. I was all tucked up in my living room, making jewelry, drinking wine, watching Friends, when the room started shaking. Now, I live in an apartment building, so that's a pretty impressive wind.

Then it start shaking worse. Then it sounded like, we'll say, a jet plane was flying about a foot over my apartment. I was worried that not only were my windows were gonna break, but that I was gonna die. My man and I kinda looked at each other for a minute, and I was like "you'd tell me if it was the end of the world right?" SAVE THE GUITARS!!!! And then a moment later, a giant crash, that again shook the place. My fella was all excited, and grabbed his camera to go outside. I was ready to tunnel into the earth until the end of days. So maybe our priorities are a little different.

Turns out the roof ripped  up, right above my apartment, and then came crashing down on the other side of the building (thus explaining the second crash). No big deal.

And for the rest of the evening, the storm raged. It sounded like it was raging right in my bedroom, which was actually pretty cool. I slept like a baby.

There's no place like home.
The Help

And now for something completely different

We had psychology class today, and our instructor brought in a speaker, a psychologist who lives and works in the neighbourhood. Dude uses HYPNOTHERAPY. I went and got hypnotized out of it, for serious!

I should say before I tell you about this, I thought up until this morning, that hypnosis was a joke. I've gone to see several entertainment style hypnotists, and I was never able to go under, cause every time I was thinking  "ha ha, you're not going to make ME squawk like a chicken Chuckles", and I would always be sent back to my seat to watch everyone left on stage humiliate themselves.

You can imagine what I thought of hypnotherapy (quack, quack). But he explained a bunch of different ways that every one's minds work, and proved it over and over in these little group exercises, it was wild. And then he told us he was going to hypnotize us all. Alriiiiiiight.

So he turned on some hippie, earthy, chimy music, and started with the process. It sounded exactly like you think it would, just like in the movies. So he's leading us down, down, and all I can think is - this isn't working. Then I realised I couldn't raise my hand off of my lap. My head was tipped forward so far, I practically had my forehead on my desk. So then I decided to just frig off with the thinking and roll with it. What an experience! I remember every moment. Every time my thoughts started to run away again, I would repeat "calm and relaxed" and every time I thought this, it was like another blind being drawn, and my mind got darker. Craziness!

He told us to picture some place that makes us happy, and my first thought was my bed (a true testament to how tired I am) - my bed is my one concession to fancy house stuff, my sheets, my pillows, they are all super fancy (meaning expensive) with embroidery, and I could FEEL the embroidery against my cheek. I could feel it. And then he told us to picture someone bringing us our favorite fruit, and I could smell mangos. My mouth watered, and I tried to bite down.

He didn't try and make any of us dance around or make sweet love to our desks. A little while later, he brought us back, and he repeated over and over how we should be feeling relaxed and refreshed and happy when we woke up. When I woke up, I found I was crying - not actually crying, but tears running down my face. My eyes were all puffy like I had slept for 10 hours. I felt like I had slept for three days, and well, I kind felt like I was on drugs.

I FEEL AWESOME! Like my brain totally took his word for it, and tricked my body into thinking that I'm not tired. I don't feel even a little bit tired. I feel totally relaxed and happy, it's amazing.

Of course, I asked him to move in, but he didn't seem that into it.

Imagine feeling like this all the time? I had a midterm today, and I wasn't stressed about it, or during it. I still feel all stretchy and happy and chill.

Long story short (too late) I'm a believer.

The Help

Let's have a word

We all know how I feel about idiots. No matter where you go, what you do, how much education you have, how kind you are, what God you believe or don't believe in, there's always gonna be idiots. This is something that I have resigned myself to in my few "adult" years. I hope and pray that most days I'm not one. I know that no matter how much I hope and pray, there's days, I'm an idiot.

Arrrrg, I can't even do it, I'm too tired. Stop being an idiot, and I'll try and do the same k? Teach you're kids respect. Try to stop tearing people down. Hold people accountable for their actions. Be accountable for your own actions. Remember that you ARE NOT the only person in the world, and certainly not the first to go through whatever you are going through. Be nice. Stop making gay jokes, and fat jokes and race jokes, cause even though no one is saying it out loud, you are hurting someone. Every now and again, shut your trap and have a listen to someone else's opinion. Stop buying records and movies tickets of girlfriend beaters and racists.

I'm sorry. I know I'm usually perky, and don't climb up on a soap box, but this stuff is just killing me. The kids killing themselves because of homophobia and bullying, the women being beaten into silence, the rape victims being villinized for getting drunk like everybody else, the beautiful women who hurt themselves to look like everyone else. It breaks my heart.

Maybe I'm just exhausted, so things have been hitting a little harder then usual. I promise, tomorrow, I will write something a little frothier, a little more me. Today, I'm just tired and sad, and a little ashamed of us all.

The Help

And then before you know it

It'll be Christmas. Halloween was just mentioned to me, and I'm all like, chill out, it's months away. But it's actually TWO WEEKS away. Good Christ, I am ill prepared for time to be whooshing by like this. I have decided that this year, I will not be going to the Legion, as is the norm (never did I think the Royal Canadian Legion would be the pinnacle of my social existence, but there it is), for several reasons, most of which are entitled "last Halloween".

Let me set the scene for you. You pay a zillion dollars for the privilege of being a member of the Legion, and you have to swear to not be a communist, which I find hilarious and insulting at the same time. Screw you pal! I'll be a communist if I feel like it! So I refuse to pay this membershit (a typo and it stays), and non-members have to be signed in. Very exclusive right? Ugh. There is nothing more frightening then when the lights come up on a Friday night at the Legion. So I'd have to find someone to sign me in, but on Halloween, there's very rarely space for non-members - last year I waited 2 and a half hours to get in. In a blizzard. Dressed as a slutty cop.

And then when I finally got in, there was cool decorations, and lots of wild costumes, but otherwise, it was just your average Saturday night at the sleege. Well. Me and 9 of my peeps broke out the Thriller dance in the middle of it all too, but that's another story for another day.

So this year, I'm not doing it. I'm going to be part of a zombie hoard (yes, I'm doing the makeup) and I think I'm going to a friends house for festivities. I bet I'll still have a laugh......Plus! It cost about the same for a BOX of wine (I know, classy right? Wanna smell my box cutter?) as for a bottle at the legion. Discussion closed.

I totally used to be a Legion baby, so I don't when all this "growing up" happened, but I have got no time left for standing around getting trashed and trashing people. My mother must be proud.

The Help

Oh Christ, it's playing. So there's this song by Peter Gabriel - who I am NOT a fan of, by the way - I think it's call The Book of Love, and it frigging kills me every time I hear it. It makes me want to cry, but in the good way. I guess, it kind of fills me up. I've listened to it a hundred million times in my life, but every time, I get goosebumps. And it just randomly came on my ipod playlist. Ooohhh, someone is getting smushied within an inch of their lives tonight.

Though I go on about how lucky I am, and how grateful for goodness, and I'm pretty vocal about lovin those whom I love, I'm not a particularly sappy person. Let me re-phrase that. I tell people how I feel about them (often), I marvel in the wonder of the world and it's works (every day). I remind myself and others to be grateful (for all of it, all of this misery and joy that we are daily bit players in). But I'd like to think that I'm still not a sappy person - I don't cry very often. Perhaps I'm delusional? Perhaps I'm a sap in hardcore clothing?I'm willing to accept this theory.

And now "Do You Realise" by the Flaming Lips is on. This is a pretty sad song disguised as a sappy love song. I get your subterfuge, you silly rock stars. My ipod is getting it right today though, hey?

I don't talk about music very often here, and I don't know why. Music is a giant, important part of my life. I play a bunch of instruments, have since I was a kid and I've been lucky enough to play with some cool groups and neat-o people. People ask all the time who my favorite singer/group is, and my response is invariably something like "what day is it today?" My favorite changes by the hour, by the minute. Today, this week, Florence and the Machine are topping my personal charts, but the Eels are playing right now, and these guys are a good time too. One of my favorite things about music is one minute I'm ready to cry with happiness, the next I'm ready to throttle face-first into a mosh pit.

But now my friends, now is time to dance! M.I.A. it is!

Happy Friday. I hope you get laid tonight.

The Help

Well that's a first

I slept through my alarm today, missed the first half an hour of my psychology class. Un-freaking-believable, I'm usually so reliable, and maybe a touch anal (do not confirm or deny - keep me happy please), so of course I gave myself a heaping helping of guilt over it, but that doesn't really accomplish much does it? I think the school/work balance is starting to become unbalanced. I will try not to complain too much, but I am so fucking tired, I don't know which way is up. The silver lining of this exhaustion is, everything is hysterically funny.

Well, not everything. I almost smacked someone today who complained about having to work for three hours over the weekend, which is not very nice, nor funny.

This dump fire is AWESOME non? Good God, it smells like, well, nasty shit burning. The air is like a solid, everything reeks, schools are being closed and everyone is headachy and pissed off. And apparently this daily dumping of toxic chemicals into our lovely clean, crisp air is going to last for months and months. Sorry,  to those who don't know what I'm talking about - the dump here in Iqaluit has been burning for several weeks. We're the live action version of the Simpsons, I swear to God. If i see someone rolling away a burning tire, I'm buying a plane ticket somewhere far, far away. I don't know how the fire started, and furthermore, I don't care, I just want it to stop. Now don't be getting all snappy with me - my peeps over at the fire department have done everything they can and then some, it's too big, too much, and that's not their fault.

My last complaint, honest. I tried to make an order from Chapters today, and they have this sweet new deal where the shipping is free for orders over $25. Wonderful. Except the thing I wanted (a crazy little r/c spider thingy for my man for his birthday - I had this image of getting a bunch of them and having a battle royale in my kitchen), but said little spider is not covered under the free shipping rules (obviously) and would cost $40 to send here. What the WHAT?? Miserable sons of.....mutter, mutter......stupid....mutter...jerks. Keep your damn spider, I don't need a battle royale anyways. Huh.

Ok, ok, good news. I've gotten four paper/assignments back, and my average is wicked high. Yay! Choir is going really well. Two months and two days til I get to go SHOPPING and see my darling K (you know who you are my dear).

I got many sweet kisses today. I got to further understand the miricle that is our working bodies. I say it all the time in class - but it really is a wonder, us humans. The stuff we do every day without thinking about it. We are all fragile and perfect, and it's amazing that we have all survived this long. We are all so lucky.

The Help

My theme song

It's by Buck Cherry, and thats all I'm gonna say about that.

I found out today that I have Sunday AND Monday off. Both school AND work. Like seriously, I think I'm just gonna spend those two days wasted. I deserve it right? And further to that, my fella has the SAME two days off. We have never had two days off together before. Either we shall have the best time ever, or we'll end up killing each other. I am now accepting bets as to which it's gonna be (odds heavily in favor of most wonderful, most epic two days ever).

Not really folks, swears. Oh, I'm gonna get drunk, for shizz, but I'll have sober moments in between. Just cause I have a few days off, doesn't mean I can stop studying....I'm already shocked and slightly alarmed at how much I've forgotten so far this semester. But I won't moan about school today, as my average is offensively high right now.

Plus, choir night Monday. How I delight in choir, it makes me so happy. You should hear the mash up we've got cooking at the moment, y'all are gonna die if you ever hear it. I'm not going to give anything away, suffice it to say, we do a great deal of stuff that we probably shouldn't. Alright a little teaser - Led Zepplin is involved in one half of the mash up. Squeeee!!!

Very recently, and good friend's lady friend moved to town, and I can't tell you how this has changed things for me. Up until now, I was forever the lone taco at every sausage fest. I don't know who I felt worse for - all the sausage's, cause I was their only eye candy (MY EYES MY EYES!! THEY BURN!!!!), or the fact that I haven't had a lady friend to shake my head and say "dudes" with when the dudes were acting like dudes. No longer my friends - my darling miss, you know who you are, I am thankful for your arrival.

Other things I am thankful for: Jack Daniels, snow days, Rock Band, beads, new shower heads (heh, perv), the Beatles, sharp cheddar cheese, Dave Chapelle, jello shooters, BACON, Friday nights.

The Help

Still love me?

So I've gotten many, many messages in the last 24 hours that say basically the same thing - "Thanks for letting me know about that website, and if we never see each other again you know why. And my husband/wife hates you forever." Did I not tell you the truth dear readers?

I've been thinking about thanksgiving a fair amount, as it is coming up this weekend, and it is my first thanksgiving that I am not cooking for what seems like 100 people. I'm cooking for 2, and man, am I ever excited. I'm going to be the very definition of lazy this Sunday. Turkey in oven, feet on table. Wicked.

Some of the things I'm thankful for: school, my man, Chuck Norris, passion flakies, raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, me ma 'n pa, hummus, pink $50 bills, guitars, snow days, 30 Rock, my wonderful and loyal readers, Glee, my blackberry, the friends who say "of course" whenever I propose a crazy scheme that usually involves copious amounts of alcohol and humiliation, George Romero, The Dwarves, living room dance parties, days when no one pees on my steps, coffee, idiots (cause who would I make fun of without them?), Veronica Mars, sweet sweet kisses, my choir, my kick ass sister, Betty White, my chesticles.

I'm sure theres more, but that's all I can think of right now without getting all smushy on you.
I am thankful for every one of you my friends.

The Help

Danger!

Ok, we're gonna approach this slow and quiet - ever heard of www.stumbleupon.com? It's today's slice of fried awesome, and the danger is, unless you've got days and days to waste, you are screwed forever if you go on this site. It's so freaking fun! I was innocently reading texts from last night, and one of the texts mentioned it, so I decided to check it out. Three days later, I emerged, parched, starving, wrist forever ruined from all the clicking. Ok, I'm exaggerating a little, but you get the picture I'm sure. This is how it works: you sign up, tell 'em some stuff that you like, and hit stumble, and the neatest frigging stuff in the world pops up. Serious face, it's such a good time, don't do it unless you've got major time to kill.

In other news, my most awesome instructor gave us lots of extra help in chemistry, and I'm not nearly so screwed. I have four assignments due in the next two weeks, but I handed 'em all in today so I can spend the next two weeks prepping for the chemistry midterm. And because I'm a geek. I got my first assignment back today. It went very, very well.

In other news, I haven't been yelled at in DAYS. And I got many sweet kisses today.

Did you know that this weekend is Thanksgiving? I could hear you clench up just now, heh.

The Help

My day, so far.

So I woke up to go to work this morning, and the power was out. Fine. I didn't take a shower, cause I didn't want to die in the black hole that is my unlit bathroom.

I get in to work, get yelled at cause of the front door. No power.

I open the office, even though the phone doesn't work, and I'm sitting in a dark office by myself.

All the alarms that go off when the power goes out are buzzing to let me know over and over that the power is out. At least they're doing their job.

I create awesome percussion pieces on my desk, using the ticking of the clock as my back beat.

I get yelled at for the power being out (obviously I work for the power company too).

I get asked 416 times when the power will be back on (again, I don't work at the power company).

I get yelled at because restaurants in the city aren't open (cause I run all the restaurants as well). In the restaurants defense - it's extremely difficult to COOK WITHOUT POWER.

Unconnected to the power being out, I got yelled at because cabs charge people money for driving them places. I wish I was making this up.

And then, after almost three hours of alternately sitting in the dark and getting yelled at, the power came back on. Oh darling power, how I missed you.

These people would all be screwed if it were the zompocolypse.

The Help

You win this round chemistry

Yep, another posting about chemistry. I do apologise, but I'm getting my ass kicked over here - I actually chucked my text book at a wall in a fit of frustration (and maturity, obviously) earlier. Then I felt bad, stood over it for a minute, only considered lighting it on fire,  then picked it up and started again. To no avail I must add. I'm still completely stumped - this is like trying to put together an entertainment center with the instructions in Japanese. And as I have an assignment due Monday, and the midterm the in two weeks, I've broken a sweat. A concerned sweat. Someone commented a few days ago that I won't actually be breaking down the equations for ionic bonding when I'm a nurse (thanks for commenting by the way, I eat this stuff up), which is true and AWESOME, the sad truth is to be allowed to be a nurse I gotta pass this course.

The good stuff - it's already Thursday. Can't even believe it, this week left scorch marks, it's flown by so quickly. I found out today that no matter what the student handbook says, I'm going to be allowed to write my exams in such a time frame that I can go visit my fella and friends in December. That's pretty giant my peeps, pretty giant indeed. Oh, there's gonna be shopping. My main lady friend is going to do the girly stuff shopping with me so I don't have to subject my fave man to all that boredom. The M.A.C. store should be prepared (and maybe a little scared) for my visit. I may move in. Do they allow drinking in malls? Whatever, try 'n stop me.

Not one person pissed on my steps today. I may have a glass of champagne to celebrate.
You know what else? I got many sweet kisses today.

The Help

I just had another one of those "where the hell do I live?!?" moments - I had to ask a woman to stop peeing on the ground at the bottom of the steps at my place of work. I was even polite to begin with, but then (sigh, yes, mid-stream), she told me it was my own fault for not letting her into my building to defile one of our lovely washrooms. Of course, she was not that articulate, this is much more accurate: "Ipeeoutdoors, you donletme in. Fuck you bitch!" The fuck you part is always very clear. Again I say onto you, sigh.

In other news, I was starting to feel the slight pull toward sheer panic earlier today, because of the things I don't know for school. But a little pep talk from my man, and a block of four serious hours of study later, and I feel way better about things. Can't panic. Not yet anyway. Heh.

I forgot to bring my copy of the idiots guide today, so I'm going to post an essay that I wrote about a year ago, and though it's a serious piece, don't think that I'm sad. This is probably my proudest thing, this essay, so I didn't want it to disappear in the vacuum that is the world wide web. Before I post it however, some good things - I have a choir. We had a rehearsal on Monday, and my god, these people! I'm so proud and happy....I forget about school and work and people pissing on steps. This choir makes me burst with pleasure (in the non-perv way, ya perv).  We began working on a Zepplin tune this week. Yeah, you heard me.

I got lots of solid work done today. I got many sweet kisses.
And now, the essay......



Fat

If you are looking for a heartwarming story of a fat girl who came into her own, and has the happy ending - finding the man, losing the weight and somewhere along the line learns some valuable life lessons: stop reading. This story is not for you. I learned a large (pardon the pun) part of my life lessons young, the hard way, where all hits were below the belt.

I have always been fat. In varying degrees, fat has always found me. I joke that the only time I was thin was the day I was born, and I got over that pretty quickly. I have done the diets, eaten the blessed soup three meals a day. I have almost accepted a lifetime of cautionary tales, suggestions, helpful advice, dieting tips, exercise regimens and self help books. Maybe the problem is my self esteem, a fear of failure or abandonment, or some other psychological failing attributed to being overweight. Maybe, just maybe, there is no one or no person to blame – maybe I just like food.

I used to fantasize about living in the “olden times”. The time when the only junk food available was an orange in your Christmas stocking and maple syrup from the tree in the yard. You ate what was put in front of you, because that was the only option. Now, as an adult, I know that I would have stuck my head straight under that maple spout, right in the tree, and gotten fat anyhow. There is a kind of relief that comes with knowing, no matter what the circumstances, I would have ended up the way I am.

So I guess the big question is this; is there really anything wrong with me? I have a good life. I work too much, I have money, a multitude of friends and family who love me. I’m interested and interesting and creative. I’m smart. I can read a book and understand it’s meaning without anyone explaining it to me. I can watch a movie and laugh out loud at the jokes, even the heavily disguised ones. I was lucky enough to be born Canadian, which comes with global respect and an almost complete lack of war and need. Yes, I was seriously mocked as a child. Yes, I have horrible memories – I can never think of Inspector Gadget with fondness as that was a name that followed me around for years (remember how Inspector Gadget could pull a button and his jacket would puff up so he could float away? That’s how fat I was. I never once floated away). I’ve had people I once respected tell me I’m ugly, or worse, tell me I would be pretty if I only lost some weight. I had a boyfriend once wish that I was “hotter”, and the sad ending to that tale is that I did not dump his sorry ass, I cried, pretended like it didn’t matter, and stayed with him for another two years. This is the burden of the young fat girl. Staying with, staying sad because it’s better than being alone.

Of course since all of this, I have learned that the people who make fun, the people who call names, they do this because there is something missing in their own lives. It’s not really their fault, and I’ll bet that every person who called me Inspector Gadget would feel terrible about it now, if they even remembered. It’s big to me, in my head, because it happened to me. Children have no idea the lifetimes of hurt they caused, until it is far too late, and the idea is stuck in your head forever. I don’t blame those people anymore. I also learned that it is not my parents fault (and it’s not your parent’s fault either, unless they were cruel or abusive). Our parents, they all did the best that they could, all the while trying to be an adult and get past the neurosis that THEIR parents handed down to them. There was no turning point, no “a-ha!” moment. I just stopped being mad, stopped being hurt and stopped holding onto blame, and you’ll notice, I did not lose the weight. I guess the realization that we’ve all had a hard time somewhere along the road, the knowledge that everyone has a terrible story, something holding them back, makes me feel sorry and strong, all at the same time. Being human is hard.

I was convinced for a long time (because, man, it’s been a long time) that I would never meet anyone and I would eventually die alone, only to have my evil cat do his best to devour my corpse. But if you think about it, if I think about it, that’s kind of silly isn’t it? See, as mentioned earlier, I’ve got a lot of good things going for me, and if my belly is going to get in the way of love, my fat ass is going to prevent any and all future happiness, then I’m meeting the wrong kind of man. Of course I will meet someone. He probably won’t be prince charming, but who are we kidding, I’m certainly not Cinderella. I used to think “who could possibly want me” with the cellulite, rolls and penchant for salty things. Now I think, “what is wrong with those fools who don’t want me?” Fat is a word, a dirty word. It is not me.

I used to get jealous of the girls who lost weight, my sister, my best friend. Now though, now I can be content to be happy for them. They are not better than me because they lost weight – but maybe they are better for being good to themselves. I used to feel strange about eating in front of certain people, cause we all know, people are a bunch of judgers, and most people are probably smart enough to figure out that I like food, just from looking.

My most recent lesson is that thin does not equal happy. One of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, thin and married. Not happy. It was quite a shock. Another lesson learned is that men like me anyway, regardless of my rolls. Some say it’s the confidence (I gave up caring a while ago, and I guess it shows), some say it’s the laughs. May I suggest that it’s the above, plus the boobs?
I am not writing this to tell you my life story (though it certainly seems that way right now). This began as a story, I wanted to write some fiction for you, that revolved around someone very much like myself who ended up happy, even without the man, and without losing the weight. I hate those stories that start with an unhappy fat girl who emerges a (thin) butterfly who didn’t know her own power until she was tested, dieted and cosseted. And what I have come to is, I don’t have any fiction to tell you. I am happy, without the man, without losing the weight. Weird, huh?

The Help

The first bump in the road

It's a pretty big one, as far as bumps go. Yeah, that would be chemistry. I'm kinda guessing, as a nurse, I will need to get a handle on this chemistry stuff, but right now, I have to concentrate on not muttering "I'm screwed, I'm screwed" whenever I consider my chemistry book. This is quite a task, talking myself out of being scared shitless, but the I'm screwed mantra is not a particularly positive thing to have buzzing around in my head now is it? So right now I do drive by styles studying. I do a chunk of notes, tackle some equations (wherein the trouble lies) and then do something fun. Like shove flaming bamboo shoots under my fingernails.

I had a kick ass weekend, so it was doubly hard to get my head back in the game this week. That fundraiser I mentioned? Raised over a grand for an awesome cause, and the winning participant got $600 of that all on her lonesome. I don't do names in this here blog, but if I did, this clearly kick ass rocker chick would be the first and only. And man, am I ever glad she's on my side.

Besides that, my favorite man took me to super fancy supper at a super fancy restaurant (I wore a dress - both my dress and my cleavage were extremely popular), and then we had a hotel room, where a great deal of none of your business went on, but there was also CABLE. I stayed up half the night watching the food network. This is not a euphemism, I watched the food network. Every now and again, he would say "can we watch something else now?" and I would try not to sigh, and say of course. But he is such a good guy, he never did make me change the channel. Am I the luckiest?? I think so.

Ok, ok back to chemistry. I'm listening to the Beastie Boys while I study.....when was the last time you listened to the Beastie Boys? Look into it, these guys are unstoppable.

The Help

Friday, how I missed you

I can't sleep. This has been a life long, or at least adult life, problem for me. Most of the time it's ok, most of the time it's just one of those things, I'm used to running on way less sleep then most people. I must admit, it's been way worse since I've moved to the north. The problem is once I actually get to sleep, which in itself is a pain in the ass, I wake up really easily. And because I live in "downtown" Iqaluit, I'm inundated with crazies. Whistlers aside, theres generally lots of banging, rock throwing, quads and snowmobiles, and each of these wake me up. Don't even get me started on the drunken brawls and screaming matches. Lets just say that if I ever wanted to write a soap opera, I'd have lots of dialogue fodder.

Alright, alright, enough of my moaning. So, again, with my excess of spare time, I have put together and am hosting a fundraising event tomorrow night. It's a pub crawl/scavenger hunt to raise money for the Run for the Cure (and may I say, Yay Boobies!), and last year was kind of nuts. Almost got myself thrown out of the Legion nuts. I'm anticipating another round of boozy insanity, and I've put a lot of work into it,  but here's the hilarious part - turns out I can't go. Well, I can go eventually, but I will miss the event itself. And the even crazier part is - I'm oddly ok with it. I took on too much, and I'm positively DAUNTED by the idea of having to go out. Not just go out, but run the show.

It's always the same people who run these things. The same people who run the PTA, and organize the bake sales and show up for committees and town meetings. And while most of these people enjoy being busy, and maybe even have a touch of control freak in them (I'm not saying anything about the actual control freaks and the scary moms who put their kids in pageants), they do this stuff because it needs to get done, and because they genuinely want to help, and they want do good things for their community. The point is (see? I have a point), a lot of these people are like me - they have a very hard time saying no. So I'm asking, on behalf of all of those people you always see taking care of these things, take it easy. Take no for an answer. Keep the guilt trips to yourself. Lend a hand.

And for me, and for the people like me, I must learn to say no. Anyone who judges me or holds it against me is a jackass. Next year, I'm just going to donate some money.

The Help

Sounds like a slice of fried awesome, doesn't it?

So it turns out that desperately wishing for more hours in every day doesn't work. I've been positive thinking the SHIT out of this wish (cause of The Secret yo), but still, more hours have not arrived. My bestie said something to me today that I'm pretty sure I've never heard in my life. I mentioned how I hadn't seen him in ages, and he replied it's because I don't go out anymore. And I couldn't argue his logic, I don't go out anymore. Let me re-phrase - I don't go out for fun stuff anymore. How quickly it all changes hey? This time last year, I was partying at least twice a week. Partying hard too, none of this standing on the side lines business for me. This time last year, I was the consummate single girl in the city. I don't know how I did it, cause this time last year, I was working three jobs.....AM I CRAZY?!? Possibly.

I like to keep busy, I always have. so every moment of my down time is taken, and honestly I feel guilty if I'm not up to something all the time. I have no idea why, it's just one of those things. I'd like to think that the constant busyness would keep me out of trouble, but do not be fooled dear readers. I just get in trouble in shorter spurts now.

Remember how excited I was to have last Sunday off cause I work every Sunday and etc? Well, it didn't actually happen, but my boss promises that I have this Sunday and each Sunday on off.....which of course leads to the major question - what will I do with this whole day of free time? No work and no school. It's almost unimaginable. I have to move choir night, and in all honesty, I'm feeling really selfish because I absolutely do not want to do it on Sundays, my one free day. Is that awful? I don't actually want to know the answer there, I'm still not gonna have practises on Sundays.

I've got big plans for Sunday. I'm gonna sleep in. I'm gonna cook, and eat. Maybe go for walks. Drink hot chocolate. Maybe write, maybe study, maybe make jewelry, make music, make love. I'm going to cling to every moment of my beautiful day with a talon-like grip, cause you know it's be over in a flash. The best guy ever is making me breakfast this Sunday. Once again I say - I am the luckiest.

Now all I gotta do is make it to Sunday.

The Help

I wish I may....

Man, do I ever want to go shopping. I went to this rummage/housewares/crafts kind of sale yesterday at the highschool. It was a complete frigging gong show - and it was nothing compared to what the big Christmas craft fair is like every year.

Picture it this way - we have 2 general stores here, so everything else gets bought on line or on trips down south. Once a year there is a Christmas craft sale, like a month before Christmas. I've always gone as a seller, not as a customer, but try and imagine....oh, hell. It's a living nightmare. Theres a line up to get in for at least an hour before, cause theres no other time to go Christmas shopping. The sellers like myself arrive several hours early to set up, and to shop among ourselves, and then they open the doors. There's this mad rush of frenzied people with fist fulls of cash. It's like when the cabbage patch kids came out. Genuinely frightening, and thank goodness I'm on the other side of the table. Complete madness, and I love every minute of it.

In other news, I went to a party last night. One of my closest friend's lady friend moved to town this week. There was drinking, my yes. She brought me a bottle of Absalut pear, and I brought a bottle of sour puss. It didn't take too long for those to get mixed. What a mess.....apparently after the bottle was gone, several people tried to wash the paper plates. Heh.

May your Sunday evening be filled with hot chocolate and lovin'.

The Help

Once again, Baffled.

We all know by now that I'm the help, you may even know that I work in a hotel. I've been on this side of the desk several times, in different provinces, but I must admit, I've never seen anything anywhere that compares to what I see here daily. I mean, I'm used to being a bouncer, a mother, a tour guide, and general fix-it for complete strangers, but good god.

Case in point: the city is full right now. Like super duper full, people offering money to sleep on the couch in the lobby, full. And it will be like this for several more weeks. The thing that boggles my mind today is this - I've had to tell 3 separate people that no, I do not have any space tonight. Which in itself isn't such a big deal, except that each of these people has countered with "I don't have anywhere to go, what should I do?" I mean, shit. That's a pretty rotten position to be in, but what am I supposed to do? Kick other people (note: people WITH reservations) out? Call in the by's to build on a few extra rooms in the next couple of minutes? This is not Toronto, this is not even St. John's. There aren't a lot of options, and perhaps this is something one should think about before, oh I don't know, GETTING ON A PLANE TO THE ARCTIC?? And then to show up and verbally shit on someone who is in no way responsible for how you run your shit.....I don't know man. I believe some growing up is in order.

Anyway, I shall quit my bitching for now. I found out today that I have Sunday off this week. Which means a full day without work OR school, and it is the same one day that my fella has off this week as well. It's like my birthday and Christmas rolled into one! It's the little things folks - and coming from someone who has basically worked every Sunday for the last three years, this is an awesome treat. I believe I'm gonna have me some drinks on Saturday night (every time I've ever typed Saturday night, I get the song Saturday Night by Ned's Atomic Dustbin stuck in my head).

I still love school. I got many sweet kisses today. I am the luckiest.

The Help

It shocked the hell out of me too

I've always been a pretty good student. And sadly for my prior academic career, I didn't have to try very hard to be a good student. And I was ok with that, I was still achieving things, still getting things done. But never before have I had such a desire to do well in school. Never before have I been excited to study, and to learn things, this feels AWESOME!! I think this is what people must feel like when they've found their thing, their calling. I'm not claiming that I've heard from God or anything, don't worry, I haven't reached that level of nuts (yet), but I do feel like this nursing this is what I was supposed to be doing all along.

Like, honestly, I couldn't ask for much more without being greedy. I have a good job, that I'm good at and allows me to work while going to school. I'm doing a program that I have completely fallen in love with and that if I get right, totally ensures my future career. I have this awesome boyfriend who is genuinely good people, gainfully employed, and completely behind me, no matter what I do. I think I could decide to go to clown school and he'd cheer me on. Probably honk my red rubber nose.

Don't get me wrong guys, things ain't perfect. My apartment is basically always a mess. My social life is pretty much non-existent, and I'm tired all the time. But it's a very accomplished tired, well deserved fatigue. I realise too that I'm only in week 2, so the real stress hasn't begun as such, and I know there will be times that I want to crawl into a hole, but my greatest hope is that when I do feel like disappearing, I'll remember how good I feel right now. Our instructors want us to succeed- they won't let me give up. In particular, my anatomy and chemistry instructor - he is possibly the best teacher I've ever had. He's farking hilarious, and he makes it easy to engage, and he makes you want to love this stuff as much as he clearly does.

Sigh, I'm a pretty happy chappy. I love that people read this. I expected to have one or two readers (what up Uncle Gerry!) and have this as an outlet, and it has turned into something that I care very much about. It makes me so happy that people have been reading, and participating. One woman told me that she has basically spent all of her free time on www.textsfromlastnight.com, laughing her ass off, and she heard about it here. AAAHHHHHHH!! What more could a blogger ask? A partridge in a pear tree??

For your entertainment today, I bring you www.peopleofwalmart.com. there are a zillion sites out there, putting people's shame on display, but never have I ever seen such amazingness. Try to keep in mind as you look at these pictures, they were all taken IN PUBLIC. Just do it, it'll make your day.

So for today my friends, I have work to do. As always, you are a delight, every one of ya's.

The Help

One of Each!

I have the next two days off (yay!), well, I just have school and choir, no work. I won't be around much in the next few days, so today's slice of awesome .....well, I'm already singing along.

I think I'm gonna make an apple pie tonight, and that may be my only accomplishment. Well, I've studied quite a lot in my "free time" these last few days, I gotta get my er, chef's legs back? Whats the kitchen equivalent to sea legs? Is there such a thing? Well there is now, I'm getting my chef's legs back, even just for one night, as tomorrow brings the return of school, and my first chemistry class (dun dun duuuuuuuun).

So for today's slice of deep fried awesome, it is Jenny Gear's cd. Without fail, no matter where I am, or what kind of day I've had, this cd makes me so happy. She has one of those voices, and this cd is a crazy mix of a bunch of different styles of music, and I think that's pretty awesome. The first song on the cd is written by a friend Amelia Curran, and it's probably one of my favorite tracks ever. Jenny Gear and her Whiskey Kittens. I can sing along to almost everything, I've listened to it so often, and I have yet to be anything but delighted whenever I hear it.

Let me know if you want me to save you a slice o' pie.

The Help

Today is Just a Slice

I'm not having a very good day today. Theres no good reason, nothing happened, or didn't happen. I even got to sleep in a little, but I guess no matter how up beat someone (me) is, every day can't be awesome. There's gonna be down days, and that's just the way the cards are dealt sometimes. I really wish I could go shopping. A little eyeshadow purchase would do me a world of good I suspect. And even though I'm not having a great day, even though I feel like soggy crap, I know that this too shall pass, it always does, and in all honesty, it's been such a long time that I've truly been in a bad mood, I gotta accept my down day with a little hint of gratitude. Imagine how exhausting it would be to hang out with someone who's always on, who's always chipper and frigging delightful. Like a cross between Robin Williams and Kenneth from 30 Rock. Ugggh.

So lets talk about something else. I survived my first week of classes, which is pretty awesome. I was most concerned about anatomy, but as it turns out, it's my favorite class so far. There may be things to complain about in the north, but the secondary schooling has blown my mind. There are 8 people in my class. If I were down south, it's much more likely that there would be 80 people in my class, if not more. There is defiantly something to be said for small classes. The instructors don't talk to us like children, they talk to us like the actually give a rats ass about how we are doing scholastically. It's quite a nice change.....a perfect example: I've decided to re-do my psychology course. The first time I did it, there was, I believe 1200 people in my class - three rooms with 400 students. The professor was on a screen, broadcast from a different building. I never actually met the man. Obviously, I'm going to achieve way more when the instructor speaks to me, knows my name, makes eye contact, and doesn't mind repeating things when I lag behind. Also, the whole text book scenario is amazing. Books cost $200 per semester for every student. I'm pretty sure my chemistry book alone is worth $200.

And it seems that whistling practise was suspended last night which was a real treat for me. I shall explain. Every. Single. Fucking. Night. A bunch of kids gather across the street from my building, and practise driving me up the wall with whistling. To their credit, they are getting much better, and their repertoire is much bigger then it used to be - they've progressed from the "you're sexy" whistle (you know which one I'm talking about, it's the same everywhere in the world) to bird sounds. Well, spawn of Satan bird sounds, but bird sounds never the less. And this, this whistling is a great improvement from what it used to be as well. They would run around "singing" (meaning shouting in unison) something that sounded very much like an Irish drinking song, and the last line (the only decipherable line) was always "fight like hell!" Try to imagine, if you will, a group of 15 ten years olds marching around Irish Drinking Songing (sort of like caroling). When I've had visitors, and they hear this singing and/or whistling, they always ask me why I don't tell them to shut up. The reasons are threefold: 1. I can't be bothered. Laziness, my yes. 2. At least they're singing and whistling, not doing drugs or beating up the place and 3. They are entertaining as hell. It could be way worse.

I'll put in another idiot segment tomorrow, but for now, I've got homework to do. Phospholipids, yes!

The Help

You'll never believe what I've gone and done now.

So you know how I'm going to nursing school right? I'll be trucking along, writing notes, or studying or drinking coffee or shaving my legs, like not thinking about anything really, and then it'll hit me out of the blue - holy fuck, I'm gonna be a nurse. Like when I'm done with the classes, when the last bell rings (no, there's not actually a bell, I'm going for some imagery here people), people are going to depend on me. People are going to put their health in my hands. This thought doesn't scare me as such, it does weigh me down however (and that's not necessarily a bad thing). It forces me to do well. I don't want to be the person who barely passed, I want to be awesome. Christ. Ok, maybe it scares me a little.

And what pray tell have I gone and done? Two things really - I've already done a few psychology courses in  university, and I had the option of skipping the first psychology this year. I decided to do it anyway. My mark was ok at best, and I was 17 when I did it. Crazy? Or trying to get this right? And, the other thing - I signed up for student council, because obviously, the full time job, full time NURSING school, the choir, the beading, and spending time with the best guy ever was not enough. I mean, there's keeping busy, and there's me. Gonzo. But I think it's gonna be ok. I'll do what I can til I can't anymore.

I was going to put in another segment of the idiot series today, but I realised I haven't done a daily slice in a while. So today's slice of deep fried awesome - http://www.dlisted.com/. This is another gossip blog, but the writer, Michael K is pretty musch the opposite of Lainey. He is disgusting, and I love it. So again, not for the faint of heart, the homophobic or my mom, but shit is he ever funny. Funny!

Kisses!
The Help

Only Six Hours to Go

It has been quite a day my friends. I've been up since, oh I don't know, really fucking early, and today has been an excellent indicator of what kind of semester I'm gonna have (meaning: complete insanity). BUT! The good news - I finally got my schedule today (an hour after school started, hilarious. I thought of you my friends, I was writing this here post in my head as I was sitting there) and I got the first of my GIANT nursing text books. Further good news, my boss was able to work with my school schedule. Right? Could things get any better? Of course! Cause I have tomorrow and Thursday off of work, so I only have school and choir for the next two days, it's practically a vacation. There's gonna be baths. There might even be some vino, oh yes.

I cannot stress enough, how very exciting it is for me that I never have to go to karaoke again. Ok, my best friend is the host, so I'll probably show my face someday, but never again will I host. It's probably for the best, I was becoming emotionally unruly (ha! that is such a polite way of saying how I was feeling). So for my friend Matthew, who deals with this business so much better then I do, I dedicate this next segment of the idiots guide.

How to Go to Karaoke (Part 11)

Some say that hosting karaoke is not a job, but it's on my resume, and I had to show up every week for those two long years. Just because I was allowed to drink during....what anyone in the hosting position will tell you, you HAVE to drink to tolerate the goings on that go on at karaoke.

• No, no one is going to force you to sing. If your friends are the type to force you, don't act all surprised when they write down your name. You know your friends. The host really doesn't give a shit if you want to sing or not, and they definitely don't want to waste any time trying to talk you into it.
• Oddly, the host does not know all the numbers (song numbers, cd numbers) that coincide with every song. I LOVE it when people write down just the song name. LOVE IT! Oh yeah, there are only 12000 songs to pick from,  but no no, I'm the one not doing my job if I don't know them off by heart. Pull it together!
• "You don't have the song I want!" (so much better is said in a whiny voice, and throw in a foot stomp for good measure). You are right. There are lots of songs I don't have - grow up and fuck off. If you can't find one song in 12000 that you want to sing, you are clearly not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and don't deserve the adulation that comes with being a karaoke star.
• Believe it or not, the host does have an order. There is a method to the madness, even if you can't devine that method in your drunken stupor. The person who asks every few minutes, the person who insists on being a dick about it, these are the people who's selection magically disappears. Opps.
• There is no heckling at karaoke! It's really hard to be on the business side of a mic, and some people are totally pushing their personal boundaries to do it, so keep that in mind the next time you hear a bad singer. It's FUN. Remember fun?
• If you don't sing, you don't get a vote. About song selection, priority singers....shit, even if you do sing you don't get a vote. Shut your trap and play nice.
• The whole thing goes a lot easier for all concerned if you just have another drink.
• It's a very rare instance that being friends with the host bumps you up in line. Any person that has to ask - we aren't that kind of friends. You stay in line.
• It is very bad form to pick a song and then refuse to do it, or worse, do part of the song and walk away. You don't get two chances with me, I have a VERY long memory.
• Singers, keep in mind that no one is expecting professionals. It's karaoke, chances are you're going to be ok at best. Have fun, throw in some dance moves, sing it like you mean it! Is that so much to ask?
• It's a good rule to sing songs that you have actually heard before. And if you have overestimated your knowledge of a song, you go all William Shatner on their asses. Works every time.
• As with hotels, and retail, it's the karaoke host's JOB to be an approachable party starter. This is not an invitation. i was once bitten on the leg mid-song by a really smart drunk who thought I was askin for it. I did not junk punch him in his man business, but I certainly considered it as I got him kicked out of the bar.

The last piece of info - and I admit, this could just be me - could you stop with the kill yourself music? Just notice what happens to the room when someone does the slow sad stuff....the party stops. People go smoke. It's supposed to be a party, not a showcase. Yes, yes, you're a freaking singing genius, good for you. Sing something fun. That is all. Except of course, be nice to the host, and to the other karaoke patrons. Don't be an idiot.

Are we sensing a theme here folks?
Thank you to everyone for their well wishes. You people, my dear readers, you are the shit.

The Help

A Little Late

I know it's late in the day, I got a little turned around today time-wise. I've never really gotten the hang of Tuesdays, but apparently the same time/space laws apply.

So It's Monday, I've just been informed. No wonder I'm messed up.

Tomorrow is the first day of classes so today has alternately been the longest and shortest day of my life thus far. Truth told, I'm scared to death. I keep forgetting and making plans for tomorrow, but then I remember that I may very well be in class when I'm making these plans. I don't know yet of course, as I haven't been given a schedule yet. That's right, no schedule for classes that I will be expected to attend tomorrow. Cue maniacal laughter! I'm a pretty organized broad, so all of this chaos is kind of throwing me off kilter.

Wish me sleep tonight my friends, I'm gonna need all the help I can get.

The Help

And on the seventh Day, there was True Blood

Well, actually, there was work, then True Blood. Gonna have me a marathon tonight....a wonderful guest has loaned (lent?  Whatever, gave over) the first 2 seasons of the show, and I have seen maybe 5 episodes up to now, and it's very exciting times for me. I like those HBO shows, I like the fact that they don't hold back on the bloodletting or the swearing. And sometimes frontal nudity! Whoo-hooo!!

Lets talk about the bloodletting thing shall we? People ask me all the time why zombies, mayhem, and horror movies (I basically only watch horror and comedies. I think life provides enough drama, fuck it). What is the deep seated psychological reason behind my blood lust? No idea. I love the gore, and I live for inventive killing techniques. Like Diary of the Dead, one of King Romero's most recent efforts, is a godforsaken pile of crap but it has one redeeming quality - the kills are interesting. At one point, the group of characters is in a hospital, and when a member of the recently undead comes for one of the cast members (Good old George, he's a fan of the old school slow moving zombie), she puts defibrillator pads on either side of the zombie's head and zaps. Eyeballs explode, brains leaking......aah, good times. The helicopter blade massacre in 28 Weeks Later? Forget about it. I'm almost never scared by any of these movies, and double plus bonus, I am completely prepared for the zompocolypse.

So last night I went to a bonfire. There was just 4 of us there for most of it, and it was really chill. At one point, my fella and I walked far enough away from the fire that we couldn't really see the fire light anymore. And then we looked up. My God, talk about the wonder of the universe. It was possibly the most amazing thing I've ever seen. It was like we could see til the end of the world. I've never seen so many stars, such a wide scope of sky, uninterrupted by light pollution. It's nights like that, when the northern lights come out to dance for us, and a shooting star makes it's trek across the sky (for real), the most wonderful man has his arm around me.....it's nights like that that make me forget. I forget about school stress, and fear, and annoyance and bad service. It's nights like last night that make me realise how very lucky I am. I see amazing, beautiful things that MOST people in the world will never ever see, and I am so grateful. Shit, I wish I could paint. But maybe the view, and the world, and the universe I saw last night, this giant vista of sheer awesome, maybe it's better just in my head.

I will leave you at that my friends, til next time.

The Help

The Hangover Crises of 2010 has passed

Alright, so maybe it was only a crises to me, but it felt like the battle of the end of days was happening inside my noggin for much of yesterday. See, I drink Jack Daniels. Jack Daniels with water as my mix. The brave few who have tried it have decided that it tastes like either perfume or nail polish remover. I think it tastes like awesome, but it is very, very hard on the head. Like getting beaten up from the inside out. It would probably be best if I talked about something else now, all this JD talk is making me shaky and scared.

I'm feelin less bitter toward the world today as well, which is probably nice for everyone, in particular, my fella. I don't think I was very pleasant to be around yesterday.  I finally, after about 2 weeks of wrangling, procured a plane ticket off of the wonderful people over at aeroplan (oh, how my tune changed when I actually got the ticket), so for the first time ever since I've moved here, I will be flying down south in December. Gonna visit my man, some friends, and a giant cheese.  I also ordered beads today - in my obviously copious spare time, I make jewelry. So the bead shopping was a treat. Yep, I've got the world on a string here today.

So in the spirit of my lack of hangover, I present to you another segment in the Idiot series -

How to Party (Part 14)

Everyone, including you, needs to party more. The world would be a much nicer place if everyone spent a little more time getting stupid. At 33, I figured I'd be past the partying stage, but no, I party. Remember when you were 22? Me either, so it must have been a hell of a good time:

• Better to over dress then under dress. So you may be the only person in a skirt and heels, but wait! What's that sound? That's the sound of everyone noticing you.
• Don't plan too much. You've got 14 parties you are supposed to hit up tonight - bring enough cab money, but also resign yourself to the fact that you may not want to leave the first party, let alone the 8th. If you're having a laugh, you are not missing out.
• Bring only the essentials - ID, money, booze, lipgloss, condoms. Think about what you're bringing before you go. If you end up drinking in an ally somewheres, you don't want to be lugging around a duffle bag full of foundation and spare pantyhose. If you don't want to carry it, don't bring it.
• Know that (if it's a good party), by the end of the night, you're going to look and smell like a wet ashtray, no matter how much prep time you put in or how much crap you haul around with you.
• Life is too short for shitty parties! If you aren't having a kick ass time, pull up stakes and get the truck out of there. Any hot number such as yourself will find a fresh new gig double time.
• Don't leave your friends behind. Or let them get felt up by nasty dudes with facepaint in the living room corner. Also, if a friend wants to leave, take their word for it - fuck off with the moaning and the guilt trips.  Let them be adult enough to decide for themselves. Help them get home, it doesn't mean you have to pack it in right?
• This is very, very important. Partying often leads to drinking. Drinking often leads to drunkness. Drunkness inevitably leads to DUMBASS BEHAVIOR. I once had a friend physically remove the phone from my apartment so I couldn't drunk dial an ex. He gave me back my phone the next day and will forever be exempt from my "people to kill" list. Friendship yo.
• If you see an ex - friend/partner/sister in law, don't get into it at the party. Neither of you will be making any sense and it just brings everyone down. Don't be a buzz kill man.
• Know your limits, drinking, drugs, gambling, strippers. Know when enough is enough. If you just got hitched to a busty gal named Candy, you may be over the line. If you've vomited on anyone (especially Candy) you have crossed over. If you have come to the realisation that you have licked several people's faces, go home. You've had enough.
• If the cops come: firstly, congrats, clearly it's a kickin' shin dig. Secondly, don't argue with the cops. They don't give a fiddler's fuck about what you were up to before they arrived (unless there was virgins being sacrificed or something), chances are, they just want you to simmer down some. turn the music down, stop riding the dog like a bull, put your clothes back on.The cops don't want to arrest you, they want to get on to the next call.
• If you are going to get it on at a party, EVERYONE will know about it soon enough, and you have just engraved your own gossip invitation. All in good fun right?

Everyone has done something stupid and/or embarrassing at parties. If you haven't, you aren't trying hard enough. Get out there, have a laugh. I'm going to stop partying when I'm dead. I'll sleep then too. Remember that every party leaves a disaster in it's wake, so be thoughtful of your host. Be nice. Don't be an idiot.

Happy Saturday my friends.
The Help

I would like to preface by saying I have a hangover. This hangover seems to have a life of it's own, this is a vile beast of a hangover, haven't had one this bad in a while. But there was no morning after puking, which in the few times it has happened, I've found very alarming. I mean shit, it cannot be a good sign if you actually couldn't sleep it off. Perhaps my liver is actually trying to up and run away. I'm not telling you this for sympathy's sake, I'm telling you so that if I seem particularly rotten today, it's because everything is colored by a slightly green, nauseous, vaguely fuzzy patina.

There's days I really hate living here. And yes, I do understand that no matter where in the world I am, there will be days that I hate living there, even the far greener pastures of Newfoundland. Please to tell dear Help, why so bitter? Well I'll tell you. Aside from the awful bureaucratic frenzy that has been the start of my northern academic career, I've had a pretty heavy case of south-sickness these last few days. Not home-sickness as such, it's defiantly a south thing. I can't tell you what I would give to be able to go to a bookstore. Have a latte. I went looking for some kind of treat for myself yesterday, as I was really needing a little retail therapy, and the two stores that are available didn't offer any relief. I went home empty handed. Do you know how nice it would be to be able to buy a t-shirt, just because? So take delight in these things, my friends who live in the south.  Think about how lucky you are to be able to go and sit under a tree.

Case in point: there are basically four restaurants in this fair city. Four that offer sit down, people will bring you food, service. There are other options, sort of, but that's not what we're talking about today. I have a group of friends, and generally once a week, we get together for lunch at one of these establishments. It's really nice for us, it's a cool oasis where none of us (meaning me) have to cook. Of the four restaurants, there is one we cannot visit because it is the former employer of one of the group. We are down to three. The one place we visit the most often has typically laughable service, but it is again something that one becomes accustomed to in the north. We overlook. We don't complain. We keep going back. But today dear readers, even the usual craptastic service, was above and beyond. They outdid themselves this day, and everyone in the group left roaring mad. I won't get into the major details, cause really who cares besides us, but I will say this - everyone was late for work. I had to miss an entire orientation event because they took so long getting it together. And the bit that really galls me is that we all had to pay FULL PRICE to have them fuck up our day. If we were in the south, this restaurant would be out of business. If this were the south, these managers who were afraid to look any of us in the eye, would be kissing our asses so we didn't tell everyone and their sister of our ordeal. There would be free dessert. And that is another reason why I have this deep seated south-sickness. They treat us poorly, offer "two slices of deep fried awful (so says my good friend Chris)", and give us food that is ok at best. They do this because they can. What are our alternatives? We are running out of restaurants. Try, my southern friends, to wrap your head around the notion that there are TWO PLACES you can go. Scary isn't it?

I realise that there are many things wrong with the world, that there is hunger and strife and Miley Cyrus assaulting the eardrums of our fragile youth, and so my grievance with exceptionally poor service my seem a tad shallow, but the day to day  living in the north is never easy, and so a life stripped of simple pleasures is a very frightening prospect.

But enough. There have been good bits from these last few days as well. Last night was my last time hosting karaoke after a 2 year run, and most everyone I've ever known and loved in this city came out for the final showdown. I sang my ass off, shook it like I owned it, and of course got silly drunk.

Several people who's opinion I hold very dear told me that they love my blog, and send it on to their friends. I've had almost 500 views of this here blog in the scant week that I've been doing it. I only figured out how to check the stats yesterday, and I was completely boggled. So for that, thank you.

My choir had it's first rehearsal of the season last night, and I'm still high. It was such a joy, we all left walkin on sunshine.

I got many sweet kisses today. I am a lucky girl indeed.

So today's slice of deep fried awesome: www.fmylife.com. Whatever kind of bad day you've had, these poor mo-fo's have had it much worse, promise. These are little tales, and they are all so mortifying, you start to feel good about yourself, cause while lunch may have been shitty, and there's no place to buy books or shoes, at least no one pissed on your pillow and stole your grandmother. Silver lining right?

I hope today is the best day of your life. And I hope tomorrow is better.

Love,
The Help