After a farily shitty few days of feeling like crap, spending way more time at the hospital than I would like, and clinging desperately to my organs (kidding), I'm starting to feel a lot better.

This is in part due to medicine, but mostly to the fact that Pat finished his coop term in Toronto and finally came back to me last night. I congratulated him for doing so well, not just in work but with me. He called and emailed every single day and drove up here just to see me on many weekends. His dedication to me is mind-boggling. I feel like I've held my breath all this time and now I can just let it go. My best friend is back.

Emily moved in this weekend, which is awesome because she's awesome and being alone here sucks ass. My parents came to visit today and I was actually really happy to see them. My mom brought Sally and left her with me, so now I've got my little (nine year-old) puppy here too.

And the weather is fabulous.

About this soldier thing...

This is the other side of the argument that nobody wants to hear. So I'm gonna say it.

Upon the death of four Canadian soldiers in Afghanistan, our government decided it was a good time to announce they would not be lowering flags to honour them, reverting to the older tradition of honouring soldiers collectively on rememberance day. This is actually the preference of many veterans, but the timing was so inapproriate. They should have just lowered them for these soldiers and announced that in the future they wouldn't be doing it any more.

If that didn't give the media a reason to lose their shit, the government then decided to ban the press from showing the caskets return. Everyone is going ape shit because, as one man who lost a son in war said, "they're taking away our ability to grieve." I feel for those families, deeply. I can't imagine what a slap in the face this must be.

But as for the rest of us, are we grieving when we see these images? No. The real issue is that we're terrified of opacity because we don't trust our government. Most Canadians aren't experts on politics, foreign affairs, the military, etc. But when a soldier dies, all of us just "know" that it was in vain.

Canadians forget that these soldiers volunteered to go, knew that there was a risk, and believed in what they were doing. Let's be honest, we don't want to greive the soldiers. We want to say that they died in vain, that the mission should be aborted and that the soldiers were duped. But that's not true. They knew what they were doing. The families are always devastated but often proud, because they believe in what their loved one stood for, and died for. If we can't do the same, then we have no business at their funeral.

Having said that, if I lost a loved one, I would find comfort in knowing the entire nation was honouring him and his sacrifice. I would want the press there if it was to celebrate my loved one. But if it was to question his sacrifice and to trivialize his death, I'd say fuck off.

As for losing transparancy, it doesn't really bother me. I may be naiive but I trust the government, and I'm glad Canada is participating in important foreign affairs. I'm not an expert on the military, and neither are you. That's why we elect people to make these decisions, and we shouldn't criticize them and flip out every step of the way.

It's a bold move from the Conservatives. I completely understand why a lot of people find this scary, even fascist. I was shocked at first, but then I realized it's not information being blocked, just the imagery. As a very wise person pointed out to me, this is simply the media exploiting the deaths of people who truly believed in their mission. As long as true, accurate information is still getting through to us, we should relax. When Harper starts actually hiding things from us, then we can freak out.

Bitches

Last night after Krista finished her last exam, we drank Russian beer and watched Dave Chappelle, which is funny no matter how many times you've seen it. I love Chappelle because he makes the word 'bitches' so damn funny.

Speaking of bitches, Kris and I both decided that bitches make great friends. The type of person whose bad side you do not want to be on, bitches can be cold, rude or downright bitchy until you've earned their trust and respect. But once you're friends with a bitch, she got your back.

The bitch has a lot of acquaintances but doesn't consider a lot of people "friends." However the ones she does are like family, and she'll die or go to jail defending them.

I may be a bit of a bitch. But I'm your bitch.

Peace, bitches.

More stuff from the Freakonomics guys...

For someone who hasn't actually read the book yet, I'm becoming a big Stephen J. Dubner fan (he's the writer guy, not the economist guy). This book is next on my reading list after the transvestite book Lianne raves about.

I found this article from his pre-Freakonomics days about Stephen King on his very cool website.

By STEPHEN J. DUBNER August 13, 2000

Stephen King is addicted to writing. It isn't a matter of liking to write or even loving it. He needs it, chemically, the way years ago he needed his cocaine and his beer, sometimes a case a day. "Writing is just this great big conduit, this outflow pipe that keeps the pressure nice and even," he says. "It just pours all this [expletive] out. All the insecurities come out, all the fears -- and also, it's a great way to pass the time."

And if he hadn't been able to make a career of it?

"Oh, I'd be dead. I would have drunk myself to death or drugged myself to death or committed suicide or some goddamn thing."

A little extreme, but I get what he's saying. Like Stephen King, I too am a writing addict, I'm just not as good at it. Or as morbid.

Today is brought to you by the letter "F"

1. Freakonomics
Something cool from the Freakonomics blog: the city of Fresno is helping drug dealers find jobs. It's a pretty interesting approach, maybe something that Toronto could do to call gang-bangers off the streets?
Here's the article.

2. Falling asleep
So rediculously tired for no apparent reason. I fell asleep in the shower this morning! Who does that? (I think I don't really sleep at night unless you're next to me.)

3. Fridays
I love Fridays because it usually means I get to see my boy and today is no exception. Giddy-up!

Happy 420!

"This weed was the shiz-nittlebam snip-snap-sack."
-Dave Chappelle in "Half-Baked"

Shock.

I got a B- in stats.
I thought...no I was sure I failed.
This changes everything. I'm so happy.

Jesus is still my homeboy (happy "eastover")

Even though the internet is officially cancelled and everything is unhooked, I'm getting internet, intermittently. I'll take it as a sign from above that Jesus wants me to blog. Or that I'm picking up a neighbour's signal. Whatevs.

As per usual, the long weekend was too short. There was cottaging and loving and chinese food. Being with my boyfriend and doing very little else is still my most treasured past-time. I finished my own bottle of shiraz, got quite drunk and the rest is not blog-appropriate. I went to Thornhill to see my mom for her birthday, along with my sister and my bro-in-law-to-be.

On the way back to Waterloo my sister and I talked about our parents and how miserable (maybe that's harsh, but for lack of better words) they are and how there wasn't anything we could do about it.

It's hard to celebrate with my mom. She's never very happy. I left Waterloo last Thursday so confused about the direction of my life, and seeing my family was a reminder of the things that propelled me here. I could never help her. I thought maybe if I could become some kind of doctor or psychologist, I could make up for it one day by helping everyone else.

I haven't seen my dad in a while, since before he went to Tokyo. He's on my case about health lately, trying to get me to eat mushy brown rice and omega and flax seeds and fish. I'm sure Pat wouldn't mind either. I can't go into the extent to which I don't care about my health, but it's pretty extreme. I know I'd pay for every last bit of it too. I'm going to change that (I've done it before). Well, I'm going to try.

It's strange being back here without my girls. I miss them. I'm looking for a job and doing some left-over work from the term that I really don't feel motivated to do at all. I don't feel like going anywhere or seeing anyone. I'm sort of enjoying being alone in the empty house, even though it's creepy.

I feel completely tired and cloudy lately. I think I'm getting sick again or on the verge of some catastrophe. There are two things that come to mind...one thing within me, invisible to the naked eye, and another thing outside of me that I never see coming. I've been sandwiched between these things for so long I just want one of them to go away.

Live and let live...

You are a Social Moderate (56% permissive) and an... Economic Moderate (56% permissive) You are best described as a: Centrist Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Pick Me a Future!

I may have failed (or almost failed) statistics. A life of research in psychology has never seemed more dismal. Everyone knows how much I love psych, and on "paper" that should be enough. But I'm coming to realize that the things I've learned can be used in an infinite number of ways and going to grad school just might not be right for me.
I've never been so confused. Help a girl out!

, said the shotgun to the head

(An excerpt from...)

i cannot make
your past disappear
only rabbits, my love,
only rabbits

One of the best parts of the weekend was when Julia introduced me to this amazing book by poet Saul Williams.

"You have to read it outloud," she told me, when I was clearly confused by his wordplay. So I read aloud.

All the poems string together a cryptic story that, to be honest, I think I will have to read the book a few more times to understand. First Irina had it, then Jewles had to buy one, and I'm getting it next. This thing will spread like wild fire.

I surrendered

my beliefs

and found myself

at the tree of life

injecting my story

into the veins

of leaves

only to find that stories

like forests

are subject to seasons

~by Saul Williams

For anyone who needs a good laugh...

More of these stylish (and disturbing) accessories here.

Also check out: "Fruity Man Bag with Leafy Back"

Today is a sad day...Julia is leaving for Greece on Wednesday, and it's just kicking in that she'll be gone, and that I've taken her being so close for granted. After all, Toronto is much closer than Greece.

Also, one of the cutest little creatures I've ever seen, Carly's dog Oliver, died this weekend. I've never known anyone to take care of anything the way she cared for that dog. I'm so sorry this happened.

The past couple weeks have been absolutely horrible days, sandwiched between weekends that have been incredibly awesome... with all the Cord stuff last weekend, and then going to the Westin Harbour Castle in Toronto with Pat and going to Republik with the girsls last night...the theme has been "goodbye."
I didn't say goodbye enough. Goodbye Jewles.

I was surprised when Pat asked me how I felt about it being April. It was like he read my mind. 9 months. A lifetime. I can't imagine what things would be like right now. As long as it happens one day...that's all that matters.

Karebear, thank you for everything this weekend. For picking me up from downtown and driving me to the subway this morning (even though your driving scares me sometimes). And though we only talked for a little bit this morning, there were some things you said that were really reassuring (I think you know what I'm referring to) and it meant a lot.

More than anything, I'm so glad for the talk I had tonight with Pat. I'm sorry for holding back so much and you have every reason to have been frustrated lately. My silence has always been a problem, and not just for us. It's easier not to deal with things in the short run, but it always feels better once you talk.

It's nice, though, just to idle on the surface of things. Sometimes when I go too deep, I can't breathe.

Anyway, these crazy man-purses made me laugh. In times like these, you have to laugh.

Poems! (?)

One more month...I miss you
The cure to insomnia

Be my nighttime spoon and write messages on my skin
Use kisses for punctuation
Trace along my sleepy grin

This is like a "haiku" but not...I think it's called a "tan renga"
Life’s lessons

I’m no masochist.
I should have seen it coming
I’m just near-sighted.

Truth is a dry martini
And this is the hang-over.

Terrorist Attack in Toronto?

From the Globeandmail:
Toronto police, dismissing fears that it was a terrorist's attack, said the man brought a can of gasoline into the washroom at the Tim Hortons on Yonge Street just north of Bloor Street, around 1 p.m. Another man went into the men's room, smelled the fumes and ran out. Seconds later, customers heard a loud bang. The ceiling collapsed, leaving wiring visible, and a 10-litre container remained in the washroom.
***
Apologies to anyone I told there was a terrorist attack in TO. I should stop getting my news from Pat (just kidding baby, love you).
Seriously though, it's funny to think that what the trade centre is for New York and what double-decker buses are for London, Timmy's is for Southern Ontario. What else can you expect from a place that most definitely puts crack in their coffee?

P.S. For any pseudo-patriot who doesn't already know, Tim's is NOT Canadian. Hasn't been for about a decade.

P.P.S. Thanks Karebear for posting India Arie on your blog!!! You made my day...I hope you girls loved Block Party as much as I did. Takes me back... xoxoxo

"One thing 'bout music, when it hits you feel no pain..."

Transformers movie....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AXOymInsHPY&eurl=

Optimus Prime! hahaha that's fucking awesome.