Morning? No, I must have slept in…

Today I woke up at 6 and freaked out.

I had slept through the entire day! What the hell? Why does this happen to me? I also wondered why I wasn’t too hungry, but dismissed it.

Also, My friend had asked me to grab her some booze since I’d be going to the LCBO anyway (and, since she lives in Ottawa, her parents want her to visit tonight :S), and I didn’t do it!!! Dammit! So I texted her to say sorry.

Then I checked my e-mail, checked Facebook, all the usual things, and wondered why there was so little activity.

Did no one actually notice that I was out of action the whole day? The hell?

I checked the date, and sure enough it wasn’t the 11th anymore. I checked my texts, and the last ones were from yesterday…

Then I noticed that there was more light than the usual coming from my window.

Oh.

Oooooh… I see…

When I checked my phone to check the time again, I finally noticed the little AM next to the time.

Oh….

Then I realized just how BAD that is. Aside from the not checking for am vs pm thing…

Yes, I freaked out appropriately about the sleeping the whole day.

Then I freaked out about not getting booze…

I feel more like a university student this morning than I have for a while…

I also realized that I hadn’t even considered that it might just be 6am. That it might be morning.

I skipped that possibility entirely for the OH MY GOD reaction of having slept for THAT long.

I also just had to text my friend again to say that Never Mind, I Was Mistaken About The Time…

So this will be interesting meal conversation later…

Jeez…

So here is my Fail of the day. Hope you all enjoyed 😛

I think it’s pretty funny, even though I’m not looking forward to being teased about it later today 😀

Happy Thursday.

Revenge via Pink Foam

So, for those who have patiently (or not, you could have just been laughing at my poor luck in roommates) read through my roommate complaints (HERE Read from bottom up to get the by-date of things), you will know that they eat my food, are generally untidy, and I share a bathroom with The Sasquatch, who, to my disgust, leaves hair behind in the shower and in the sink instead of footprints and blurry photos.

But, just now, I believe I have given my own revenge..

Before you get grossed out, please read the title of this post and then see just how creatively gross you could get with pink foam.

I don’t want to do it myself, so I’m just going to say that I am going for confused more than grossed out.

Yeah, see, NOW it’s much easier to imagine doing something confusing with pink foam…

But this requires me to mention something that I am certain I have not gone onto before…

Myself.

Specifically, what I look like, and narrowing that down to my hair.

BTW to those who will not give up on me getting my revenge by doing something gross, no, this is not about shaving either.

I don’t usually dye my hair, and what I have done has been pretty tame considering the ideas most people have about artists.

I have made the tips of my hair darker, I have gotten blonde streaks, I have gotten ‘peek-a-boo’ purple streaks, and, more recently, i have had more noticeable pink streaks (still of the ‘peek-a-boo’ nature).

The dark tips weren’t that noticeable, as that was what I wanted, the blonde-er streaks were noticeable with my hair being much longer, and, though not as immediately noticed (in an “she’s streaked her hair” noticeable way), the two peek-a-boo streaks have been pretty cool.

They would probably be much more noticeable if they were normal streaks (on the top layer), rather than streaks applied to a ear-level layer of hair. They ‘peek’ through.

Peek-a-boo.

When I was little I was a big fan of Ed, Edd, and Eddy.

This has relevance.

If you are familiar with the old show, you will get references to a plank, and you will also remember that there were three older girls called the Kankers who each had a crush on one of the three Eds.

Lee likes Eddy, Marie likes Edd, May likes Ed, and I freely admit that I had a cartoon crush on Edd (the middle from the picture above)

left to right: Marie, Lee, May

left to right: Marie (Edd), Lee (Eddy), May (Ed). Guess how my young little brain translated my cartoon crush?

I desperately wanted to have blue hair.

I would only stop asking after Mom finally told me that since I was Blonde (ie. yellow hair) if I dyed my hair blue, it would turn Green.

But peek-a-boo streaks are a far cry from full our blue hair, but at some point I may decide I want to, you know, see what my parents reaction to electric blue hair would be.

Maybe have an ambulance on speed dial, in case they take it rougher than I thought.

But back to pink foam.

For those who don’t dye their hair (often, or at all), you can either go for a normal dye or you can go for something that’s more of a stain.

The stain, from what I can tell, is a more vibrant colour, but doesn’t stay as long as a normal dye.

I wanted something a bit more funky, interesting, and hey, the purple had faded enough since I had it done that I decided that, when I was having my hair appointment this family day weekend/reading week, if I was going to have my streaks redone, bright pink wouldn’t look out of place.

So I got the stain.

Wow, that sounds a bit like an omen of doom, similar to the dreaded Black Spot, but maybe less pirate-ey and more…

House wife-ishly?

Not the stain! Not the pink stain!

Who knows, maybe it was the result of that stray red sock in a wash of whites.

But one thing I noticed the second time I was in the shower after having the stain done is that it came out a bit when you were shampooing.

I’m sure it happened the first time I was showering after I had it done, but I only noticed it this time.

It was rather strange seeing the usually white froth of shampoo this odd pink…

But it was only today, when I guess after a more vigorous scrub of my hair that I noticed the pink foam on the walls of the shower did I think of revenge.

I’m going to stop here a moment, and tell you that I’m laughing to myself at the idea of looking at pink foam on shower walls and thinking “Revenge! Bwahaha!”… but I’m also kind of smiling to myself because I wonder at how many people thought of something a bit more gross than… well… this.

Once again I ask that you look at the title of this post, and if you were hoping at the beginning of his post for some vindictive bit of nastyness from a 19-year-old with roommate problems, well, you will have to wait for one of them to push me past my boundaries a fair bit farther to get me to make a mess that I may have to clean up.

Or try to outlast one of my less than clean roommates in NOT cleaning up.

But oh! When I noticed the pink foam lasting on the walls of the shower, Insanity perked up and loved the idea of The Sasquatch’s confusion.

Revelled in the idea of him being so confused as to what, exactly, it could be, this pink foamy stuff on the wall of the shower, cackled in delight when even Sanity couldn’t give an explanation that would make sense without hair dye knowledge, because that would mean that thought could go to one conclusion…

That it must be something gross.

Gross, and girly.

It doesn’t matter that it’s foamy like soap (exactly like soap), it was pink and strange… and foreign.

What could I have possibly done with this strange pink foam in the shower?

Bwahahahaahaha!

It matters not that he wouldn’t be able to figure out anything specific…

The horror of an unknown gross an girly thing will haunt him every time he even thinks of having a shower!

Bwahaha!

So I flicked more soap onto the shower wall, finished my shower while taking the unusual care not to wash off the foam from the wall, and got myself ready for class.

Later, when I noticed something amiss, I was given another delight, though a rather bittersweet one.

One of my earrings, in my second set of ear piercings, had fallen off.

It was cheap, with a plastic cap acting as a ‘pearl’ and I knew it would eventually break or get lost, but still, I was walking around with only three earrings in, and even if no one else noticed, I knew.

And Sanity said that I must’ve lost it in the bathroom.

Maybe in the shower. Maybe outside of the shower.

But likely the bathroom.

And Insanity reared up with manic delight and said

“He’ll likely step on it! The FOOL! Bwahahahahahahahahaaaa!”

If you do not know the pain of stepping on an earring with a bare foot, you are more likely to know how painful it is to find a Lego piece in the dark, and it is a similar pain.

Except that with an earring there’s a possibility that you’ll poke a hole into your foot, like I did when I was 15.

I have no clue if he found/stepped on the earring, I have no clue if he was weirded out or confused by the foam, I don’t know if either the foam or the earring (or both) were washed down the drain before he even noticed anything…

But it’s my revenge for millions of tiny hairs and other nastyness around the apartment res, and I still imagine Insanity cackling gleefully next to Sanity.

And I know that even Sanity has a smile.

And that is Revenge via Pink Foam.

EDIT: As a bonus, I found this video. It’s things you wouldn’t want to hear from a roommate.

EDIT 2 : For an update on what has happened with my revenge, look HERE and be prepared for childishness.

Sometimes You Need a Break. Dealing with Stress.

Slightly more serious post than my other ones, but this one is something I think a good number of students (at least university/college students) may find important.

I am going to get this out of the way and say I don’t do stress well.

Or rather, I stress well, I don’t DEAL with stress well. Here’s how I think of my stress dealings:

I bottle it up, store it away since its so unpleasant to deal with. Later, when I once again get stressed, I bottle that up too, even as the aftershocks of the feeling shake up the last bottle of stress.

Unlike real life, the tremors of stress stay with me, though I ignore it, and so it slowly shakes the second, and eventually third, fourth, fifth bottles up as well, building up pressure that I also ignore (as I am so very good at it) until the bottles I use start having trouble containing it.

I feel like, at least right now, the bottles I use are plastic. Later, if I keep doing this, the bottles may be made of glass. I don’t know.

When, eventually, the bottles fizz and explode so that I have stress colouring everything, making everything sticky and gross and makes me feel like doing nothing else but clean up and throw away the stress, I do so. It is, after all, hard to focus on anything else when you have sticky, gross stress all over you.

I ignore everything else, I have trouble concentrating, I have this overwhelming urge to do nothing, to go do something else that will make me feel better, like maybe watch comedy skits, or watch shows I know I like and episodes I know are funny, or read something totally random, or something else entirely.

I’ve been working on this example and been trying to self-analyze in a realistic, objective way, and I know that I need to work on a better way of dealing with stress than bottling it up and storing it away.

The reason I say I believe my bottles to be plastic right now, is because when the bottles explode from stress overload, broken plastic doesn’t hurt or cut nearly as deeply as glass.

Wow, that sounded a bit dark, huh?

I’m just trying to say that this tendency of mine to put away stress could develop into a worse problem, or could cause me to ignore something important because it happens to be stressful.

To help counteract that, I’m doing a number of things.

I don’t quite bend over backwards to do it, but close enough

I’m trying to schedule myself better (made a schedule for the week, having classes, study times, break times, etc…). Hopefully by having something steady and schedule like in my life, I’ll have something to hold ono.

Yoga, once a week. Similar to the schedule, by having yoga, it’s consistent and, unlike the schedule, something physical. If I need to do something more exerting, I can get onto one of the exercise machines and go on for an hour.

Phone conversation with Mom at least once a week. I am used to having a support system on hand. I don’t like talking about stress to friends, because I don’t like making my friends

My family has more personality than this and my three roommates combined

feel uncomfortable. It isn’t like I’m going to be able to talk to my roommates after all. I hardly ever see them, and even if I did, I don’t particularly like them. As such, my support system is my family. I need to be able to talk with them. So I’m making sure that at least once a week, there will be a conversation. To just talk. About nothing in particular. About things happening at home, things happening in Ottawa, allowing Mom to complain about her school while I can talk about how wonderful it is to be skating. I think it’s helping. No guarantee though. Midterms are stressful.

Writing. I know it isn’t the best thing, but writing here, on a blog, is almost surprisingly stress-releasing. Even if I don’t talk about stress. To be able to put my thoughts out to an invisible crowd, it’s nice. I also still write fiction for my own, and fanfiction because I enjoy getting reviews. It helps that most reviews are positive and are very encouraging and you can’t feel useless when you get an enthusiastic review for one of your ideas. Hell, I have a number of people who review regularly for my story ‘It’s Green‘ (Harry Potter Fanfiction and yes I linked to my own story) and I can go on for endless replies in conversation with these people who I only know because they like something I’ve written enough to contact me. How awesome is that?

By the way, Mom doesn’t like that I write fanfiction, but it’s a stress reliever for me. I enjoy writing. I didn’t do NaNoWriMo this year because I promised I wouldn’t, but writing is one of my hobbies. I’m not giving it up. I’m glad my Mom understands that. Or at least I believe she does.

Aaah, stress, you give me such issues!

Boy do I need to work on this, and I believe that this IS helping, but i’s hard to be objective in things such as these. I’ve been thinking on this for so long that I could be imagining everything, and I’m sure that some invisible person out there reading this is thinking I am imagining everything, or explaining it unrealistically, or SOMETHING, but this is as close to the ‘truth’ of the matter as I can get to.

It’s very hard being objective when dealing with yourself.

I think that’s one reason why self-portraits are so hard to do. You try to make it better because you’re vain (don’t try to deny it) and want to look pretty.

Or cool, if you aren’t quite ready to admit that you think you’re pretty.

But, as I said before, I don’t do (dealing with) stress well.

But, because I’ve been able to recognize it well enough… I am also going to recognize that I need a break.

Not a full one, more like slowing down to a jog from a sprint, but a break none the less.

Next semester, my hesitant plan is to take a break from school, move back to Toronto, and (with the permission of uOttawa) take a course while in Toronto so that I’m not totally removed from doing class work.

It will be one semester, and a break from full-time class. This will be me working to get used to stress of university, while having my support system with me.

I don’t know if I would have done better having taken the first year off, but this is what I’m doing now.

I wish I had  my own time machine, to go back to the beginning of the school year, maybe then I could have done a better job, but since I don’t, I’m giving myself a chance to breathe.

 

I Miss My Dog

Because he is my dog. MINE.

Lexy may have first claim over him, because, you know, she bought him, she pays for his food, she goes on most walks with him (MORNING walks, even when it’s crap out)… all that stuff matters not.

Because he is also MY dog.

I miss him.

Of course I miss my family too, but there is something about the family animal that sort of sticks with you.

I want to crouch down and have him sit down between my knees for a cuddle.

Or, possibly, walk up to me and turn around in his ever so classy “Here is my bum” with implied “Scratch it” pose.

I want to see him do an all around stretch, starting with downward facing dog and moving on to cobra before finishing with a funny face and a shake. If this shake produces little fluffs of fur in the air, that is fine.


Hugs from my family are awesome, but giving a hug to my dog is an overall fluffier experience.

Recently, as broadcasted by my sister HERE, it was my birthday 😀

Very exciting, yes, and one of my friends gave me a particular gift.

She gave me a stuffed dog…

This looks nothing like my dog, so that’s not the point of this, but I have been very stressed lately, and it is the kind of stuffed animal that has been stuffed to fair solidness, and so it is a wonderful stress-hug-thing to hug, because it doesn’t feel like hugging a towel.

I do like squishy stuffed animals, by the way, but when you need a hug and you need it to feel solid…

Well.

I just really miss having Gwynn around.

Currently the only thing that’s living with me (roommates don’t count, it’s more like they’re living next to me) is my aloe plant, something I begged off of family because I needed SOMETHING around.

It’s grown some since I got it.

I think I should name it as well...

But because I’m happy that I’m able to get some stress off by squeezing the air from the stuffing of my dog (currently nameless, but a boy for his manly image), I’m going to post some pictures.

Manly pattern means manly dog... And his eyes and nose are so soft!

If you have a name suggestion for my dear, manly pooch, I’d love to hear it!

I love my new poochie, but I still Miss Gwynn

Thank you!

P.S. Lexy, please send me family and dog pictures. I see you in a week or so, but I would like them regardless.

I miss you all! Give puppy a rub down for me!