Looked a bit like I had a Boner…

So, one thing that I’ve noticed bout when Lexy goes on Walks, is that she usually carries a bag with her. One to sling over her shoulder and hold onto a water botle, a fold-up dish, and the poop bags.

The other day when I went for a walk with Gwynn, I decided that it was hot, yes, but we were only going out for a half-hour for now, and another short walk later, so I decided to forgo grabbing a bag and just shove the bags in my pocket.

A few streets from my house, I looked down and noticed that the tube of bags I’d shoved into the pocket of my shorts was looking a bit odd.

A bit like I had a boner…

I’m sure no one thought that I, in my girly short shorts and floral shirt, was a man showing off my junk, but still, in the same way penis jokes have amused me when I was in middle school, I was still amused at the thought.

Makes me wonder if other people would have connected the bulge by my crotch was a roll of poop bags (lavender scented, even) and what else they could have thought it was.

Just thoughts.

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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?Β 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 πŸ˜›

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

Happy Thursday.

A Decision

So, I’ve been having some troubles with my studies lately, and as much as I was thinking about talking with my family about it, I decided that it’s my life and I should spend it the way I want to.

This was actually inspired by one of my friends, who has decided that she wanted to do some travelling after school, since she had to stay and take an extra semester at high school for various reasons, and wants to get ‘out there’ before going to university.

I think I’m going to go with her.

She as some interesting plans, and is already looking to get a hippie van (you know the ones, the kind we all remember from Scooby-Doo?) and Since it isn’t really safe to go travelling on your own, I figure that she’ll welcome the company.

Also, probably, the money.

If she’s fine with waiting to go anywhere out of Canada until after my summer job, I will have a good amount to go for a year or so, and as I said above, I’m having some troubles in classes so this is a great idea!

It really is. It’ll be a break from classes, I’ll get so many new experiences, I’ll be ale to keep in touch, and I’ll be with a friend.

I know my parents might think it’s a bit of a bad idea, but I’m of legal age for a great deal of things (not alcohol in America, no), and that includes the right to make decisions about my life.

It’s not like there’s much out there to worry about, anyway, especially since I’ll be with my friend! I already did some travelling (for school, a trip to London and Paris), and I already had the talks about what not to do, and how to keep from getting hooked into tourist traps, and all that, so everything will be great.

Really. It will be so awesome!

It’s great that the family is coming up to Ottawa for the Easter weekend (next weekend), and I’m planning on telling them what’s going to be happening next year then. It helps that I’ll be talking to the registrar before they get here, so my plans will be well on their way! My friend has been sending me links to Volkswagon vans being sold, and I’ve already agreed to pay for half of it.

I’m sure my sister Lexy will be surprised when she reads this, but I understand that she will understand that I’m posting this on my blog with the confidence that she will see that this is a good idea, and that she will support my decision.

Since I’m posting this today, I would also like to say a BIG Happy Birthday to two of my favourite Harry Potter Characters, Fred and George Weasley, who were born today (April 1st). In my mind neither of you will ever die.

So, in the spirit of today, Happy April Fools.

(It’s a joke people. Lexy don’t worry ;P)

I Don’t Believe in WAITING!

FINAL UPDATE FOR THIS! See HERE for anything else on my journey through this ordeal…

So, I finally watched The Last Episode Of The Second Season Of BBC Sherlock.

Which means I have to wait until around Christmas (approximately, maybe January) for the next part season.

I should have waited….

I have been re-watching the series with a couple of friends, one of whom hadn’t seen the series before. I kind of maybe sort of forced her to watch it, but since her computer hates Sherlock, we have been watching it, one episode a night, with my laptop set on top of a juice box packaging container on op of a chair with the screen as bright as can be and the volume as high as it can go.

Today (Wednesday) is a small break for her because she has to review some things she doesn’t get in class, as well as catching up on sleep.

But my other friend (of the two who watched the series with me) hadn’t finished watching the second episode of season 2, and she wouldn’t be able to watch it tomorrow night, so I watched it with her tonight.

It was awesome, as all episodes of BBC Sherlock are.

But, at the end of it, and I knew it was coming, she tuned to me with a smile and said “Let’s watch the next episode”

It was only 9.

It would be over soon enough if we did watch it, 10:30, 10:40 if there was bathroom breaks.

It felt like something inside of me was shrivelling up when I set up the next episode…

Five minutes into the episode and I wanted to turn it off, wait until the next season came out.

Ten minutes later that same part of me that shrivelled up was screaming at me to turn it off! Black out the screen, mute it! TURN IT OFF! YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE EPISODE!

That shrivelled prune squirmed inside me and threw a massive hissy fit for another five minutes before it got distracted enough by the episode that it only remembered to start screaming again a little less than an hour and a half later. Or, as I’m realizing now, It could have been Insanity having tied it up. Possibly with the help of Sanity. I mean, Sherlock is amusing and interesting and the end of the first season nearly drove me mad, so that must have been amusing for Insanity… But also, being afraid of watching the last episode of the second season isn’t terribly rational, so shutting up that fear of WHY-MUST-I-WAIT-FOR-THE-NEXT-SEASON!!?!?! makes sense. It’s like ripping off a band-aid, best get it over with quickly, Sanity might say. But it can also be like ripping it off in a pool, so that you’re grossed out every time you see it floating there in the water, because you’re never quite sure if that one’s yours, Insanity might add. Probably with a smile…

But then again, Insanity would be that gross kid in the pool who would pick up the band-aid and whip it at you to gross you out.

In any case, by the end of the episode, that Shrivelled Thing was back to screaming.

You’re going to regret this! WHY DID YOU WATCH IT! YOU’RE GOING TO DIE! What the hell??? TURN IT OFF BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!

The ending was already spoiled for me, so I knew what was going to happen…. so I watched the episode through the screams of that shrivelled part of me, watched as what was spoiled unfolded (nice mental image, that), watched all the way through, and now it is with a heavy heart that I await the next season to come out. Why didn’t I wait? I probably could have waited for the next season to be out before watching it…

Perhaps the band-aid was not ready to come off.

But it’s off, and if I’m going by Dad’s philosophy of band-aids, it’s better to not put back on another band-aid. It’s best to air the wound, put on some Polysporin, and besides, it’s not even bleeding…

Watching the episode was probably less like taking off a band-aid, and likely more like putting Polysporin on a scrape.

*sigh* Fun times.

I seriously can’t wait until the next season comes out…

For all those who want to watch the show, go to THIS LINK HERE and watch, and become a fan, and love it.

Also, for those who Read my post HERE about how much I miss my dog, and are curious about what I named my stuffed dog, my friends and I figured out its name.

Benedict Scott. As in Benedict Cumberbatch (Sherlock) and Andrew Scott (Moriarty).

AND because I have two middle names (Elizabeth Rose), my manly stuffed dog also has two middle names. They weren’t really my choice, but I think it works.

Benedict Simba Rafiki Scott. Scott-Cumberbatch if you don’t want the last name to end so abruptly.

According to the internet, if you look up the meanings of each name, my dog’s name means (in full):

Blessed Lion Friend Of Scottish Origin

Which is funny because he’s a dog.

But my Benny Scott confused dog-lion friend is mine and may be species confused but will never be confused for anyone else’s πŸ˜€

Thank’s all πŸ˜€

Magnanimous 50Β’

Went to one of the conveniently places Mac’s that’s a short walk from my res, feeling in need of a bag of chips and maybe an Arizona.

It’s late, but nice out, and I’m tempted to go on walking, past this macs and maybe onto the next one.

I don’t, and I’m glad Β I did.

When looking for my Arizona, I moved back from the chip selection at my back so that this baby faced guy to get past me, and he says while walking towards and past me, as if continuing a conversation:

“I really like your sweater–”

Because He was looking at me I said Thank you, and he continued with

“Yeah, it looks like it’d be really warm, it is warm isn’t it? Thanks”

and continued walking.

I thought, okay, baby faced, and a rather high (if sort of scratchy) voice, probably younger than I thought. I was thinking MAYBE University, more likely High School. Very likely he’s high.

Now I was thinking that, well, it’s possible he’s in university, but it’s more likely he’s either in high school or middle school. Very likely high.

I was smiling at the compliment because, high or not, compliments are nice, and he looked cute.

I know I just finished saying he was most likely pretty young, but he had a face of someone you knew was going to be cute if you gave it a few more years.

Maybe his voice would sound nice after Puberty as well, I was sort of thinking, but he had some acne, so perhaps the voice issue was from smoking so much, or maybe he had a cold, or maybe he was just that high.

So I grabbed a bag of chips and two Arizona’s (one for later) and brought it to the counter, where the baby-faced, high voiced kid had finished buying whatever he had ought + orange juice (“Hey, where’s my orange juice? I can’t find it!” The cashier pushes the orange juice in bag towards him. “oh”) and I notice that he’s left behind two quarters.

The Cashier slides the change to the side but pauses when the kid speaks up.

“Oh, no, that’s for her…”

I felt like laughing in his face, because he sounded like he was being the nicest (and possibly flirtiest) guy out there.

Yeah, in a tone one would use for giving up a $10, he says:

“Oh, no, that’s for her…”

Baby faces, high voice, and I still don’t know if that’s a confirmation that he’s high, or that he’s really young to think that 50 cents is generous, or maybe he’s really high out of his mind, but I bought my chips and Arizona’s with a small smile and a non-verbal conversation with the cash register guy…

He means it’s for you, eh?

Yeah, I know, you keep it.

Sure? He’s being very generous…

Yeah, go ahead. I can go without his magnanimously given 50Β’

Really.

Yeah, I’m sure I’ll survive.

πŸ™‚

πŸ˜€

I’m still giggling about it, and part of me wants to meet that guy again… when he’s high or not, because it was really friggin funny XD

Especially since the parting glance between Cashier and I was a mutual

Look at him eh?

I know…

Insanity Strikes! Passively… Why am I doing this?

Insanity tries to influence your life in many ways, and most times what Insanity suggests you do you will NOT do because you know, logically, that it’ll get you in trouble. Or it’s weird. Or it’ll be embarrassing and beyond how weird you’re willing to be.

Especially in public.

The crazy ideas will make you smile, either as you are thinking it or as you think on it later, but you will recognize it as a crazy idea or thought. Insanity will be barking out these ideas, spewing them like a unicorn spews rainbows to tap dance upon, pantomiming them in your daydreams until that muscle in your face that you never consciously use starts twitching. Then Insanity will point out that you actually developed an eye twitch, and you may or may not follow the suggestion to tell your friend excitedly that that ACTUALLY happened.

It is in this way that we can join forces with Sanity to keep out of jail or a padded room.

But it is when Insanity suggests things in a more passive way is where you have to watch out.

Do you know what I mean? That passive idea from Insanity that isn’t so hard that you have to go out of your way to do, or is private enough that you don’t see why you don’t NOT have to do it.

Take my morning for example.

I’m getting ready to leave for home for the Christmas break, have another 2.5 hours until I have to leave to have a LOT of time to wait at the train station… And this is after having a shower and finishing pacing and making sure that anything spoil-able in the apartment doesn’t have the chance to go off…

So I rolled out of bed and texted my Mom to not call to make sure I’m up (something that we established last night), gathered up all of the things I need to take a shower and went to the bathroom.

As a side note, I had to gather up everything because after the beginning probation period I set, my bathroom co-user has failed phenomenally in displaying the right amount of sanitary sense. He leaves thousands of tiny little nasty hairs on the floor of the shower, is gross with the soap bar at the sink and suds up a ring around the entire sink and on the floor… and he also, for some reason, hides the shower spray and the toilet bowl cleaner behind the toilet. I’m not leaving any of my soaps, shampoos/conditioner/body wash or towels or bath mat (for the shower) within easy access.

But I had my shower, cleaned myself up, dried myself off, and was going to put back on my pj’s… why? Because I was too lazy to grab clothing, and my pj’s were clean enough.

But apparently not, because after finishing putting on my pajama pants, I was about to put back on the shirt I had decided on as a pajama top when I decided to give the sniff test.

The sniff test, for those who are denying that they do it, is the test to see if your shirt actually smells that bad. For me at least, the sniff test has three levels.

One is that I’m checking if it’s something I’ve already washed but forgot.

Two is checking if that shirt I’ve already worn is fit to be worn again.

Three is to see if it is something I’m fine sleeping in. I don’t have any designated sleeping shirt except for the few shirts I have that are hole filled and kind of grungy shirts that I keep hold of for sentimental reasons. Like my SkyDome t-shirt. It will never really be the Rogers Centre in my mind. Never.

But the shirt I had slept in last night no longer passed the third sniff test, and so I folded it up in my bath mat with my soaps and whatnot, wrapped my towel around my torso, and made the short walk back to my room.

Here is where Insanity suggests, passively, disinterestedly, offhandedly, in such a way that it seems totally logical… the idea that has me writing this up now.

“Why do you have to put a shirt on now?”

Well, I don’t.

Not really…

And by NOT putting on a shirt it means I can procrastinate putting together an outfit for a while.

If I put on a shirt now, it mean I have to decide on an outfit so that I don’t have to change shirts later if I really want to wear different pants.

And it’s not like it’s cold…

When Insanity gets logical like this, you know it’s channeling your procrastinating mindset, and it’s enough to get Sanity to agree… even if reluctantly.

So here I am, writing this up while I’m in the mindset, while I have no shirt on (because I know that some reading this are wondering), listening to tunes on Grooveshark, and wondering what Lexy will think of this if she ends up reading this during the time I’m on the train.

Part of her, I’m sure, is embarrassed that I’m writing a post on this, without a shirt or bra or anything on (That’s a lie… I’m wearing a necklace), and yet part of me is also wondering if she’ll end up saying something witty about this post when I next see her face-to-face… like maybe “Nice shirt… glad you have one on…” or perhaps “I see you’ve bundled up” or something even more vague that wouldn’t suggest to the rest of the family or anyone else listening that I was at some point going topless.

I feel like the song I’m currently listening to (Warhol’s Portrait of Gretzky by Hawksley Workman) works pretty well with how weird I’m feeling right now…. because I’m still not really seeing a problem with being naked up top.

And if anyone wants to know what Sanity says on this subject right now, she’s pretty fine with it… not really thinking it’s okay that I’m writing a post about it (Insanity approves), but since I’ve locked my door and aren’t parading around sans shirt in front of an open window, this isn’t exactly a BAD idea, or an embarrassing one, or one that will haunt me for the rest of my life…

Wow that has a possibility of coming back and biting me in the ass. Perhaps this post will become the written equivalent of a meme. I don’t know.

If anyone’s wondering what kind of thoughts I’ve had since being topless for this amount of time….

There’s a lot more of a breeze/air movement in my room than I thought.

My necklace pendant keeps tapping me. (it always did that, I’m just noticing it more)

The chords of my headphones are taking a page from my necklace, but to the side.

I wonder what it would be like if I had hair as long as it once was before I first donated hair a couple of years ago.

You notice the stray hair stuck you your chest/stomach (from your head) a lot quicker. It’s just more obvious.

You notice the recently dyed purple hair even more. (I got streaks to the lower layers of my hair… I don’t think I ever ended up mentioning this)

You look down a lot more often, and wonder why.

I wonder if I would feel more awkward about walking around without a shirt or bra if I hadn’t gone to Rangers and had a roommate who took off her shirt as soon as she was inside.

I wonder if this would feel more awkward if I hadn’t ever played strip poker or never went skinny dipping.

I wonder if someone more self-conscious than me would have stopped writing this after a little while to go put Β shirt on.

Thought: Jeez, the chair back is cold

Thought: ACK! Shiver of DOOOOOOOOOOOOM….

Stretching Β is weird.

It’s actually a bit colder than I thought it was in my room…

Thought: I wonder if any of my roommates will ever read this… hm. Whatever.

And now I have to go finish packing. Read Lexy’s latest post HERE, because it’s significantly more serious than this was, and a good warning to people who have dogs and buy treats for them.

I may write another blog post or two while on the train. I don’t know. Depends on if the train wifi is going to crap out again.

CAN’T WAIT TO BE HOME!

Oh, and while I’ve written about how Insanity has suggested Β I go outside without pants on (painted on pants… use the paiiiint DON’T DO IT!), I won’t ever go outside casually without a significant piece of clothing (ie. a shirt, pants, shoes [in winter]…). To the family, if you were wondering, this is just an odd experience for me. Mom, that text you got from me? The one that says “hahaah, I’m feeling really odd right now… can’t wait to be home,” doesn’t that ‘odd’ have a whole new meaning now? Have fun with that πŸ˜€

On the Road again… Can’t Wait to get off the Road again…

Ottawa is awesome for a number of reasons.

Universty of Ottawa is also awesome for a number of reasons, but the reason I’m thinking of right now is that there are two reading weeks.

I am currently on the train, heading hoooome. It’s about a 5-6 hour drive from Ottawa to Toronto, it’s about a 5 hour train ride πŸ˜€

The reason why Ottawa has two reading weeks is because the people who run universities are looking at the stats and noticing that more and more students are committing suicide.

It is for this reason that you can only open your residence window so far, and also the starting point to the awesome idea that is an extra vacation time.

I got to the train station reeeeally early (leaves at 12:20, I got there at 11), and almost got onto the wrong bus to take me to the station…

Buses have a long history of trying to screw with my mind, and the instructions on Google Maps said to get onto the 95 bus heading to Orleans, and the sign on one bus said “95 Trans” with a smaller “Orleans” underneath it.

Thankfully I hesitated before getting on, and that told the bus driver that me getting on was Not To Be, and the next 95 bus said ONLY Orleans on it.

I then asked someone else with a suitcase where the Via Rail station was, they pointed to up a hill and across the street.

Ok.

I got my ticket from an automatic Kiosk thing, and then had to go to one of the people anyway because I didn’t know where to go with my two tickets.

Two Tickets?

Yes, apparently I have to go on this hell ride once more…

Aah… I can see Lake Ontario right now…

Or some other lake, but I’m not so great with geography either, so Lake Ontario it shall be.

Did you know that Via Rail has electrical plugs?

But only for the seat closest to a window.

My computer has…

0:32 minutes of power remaining.

Awkwardness is foiling me in asking the girl next to me if I can use one of the plugs, as well as the fact that I’m veeeerrrryyy close to Toronto now, and it would be ridiculous to plug it in for the last 20-30 minutes of train ride left. And no, I don’t trust my battery not to sudden;y decide that it has less minutes of power remaining in the middle of writing this, and I have saved this as a draft about 3x.

Today, everything is out to get me…

When I’m heading home, I am going to do like everyone else who got to the station early did, and put my bag in line while I wait.

I didn’t, and the line was wrapped around the station entirely.

And I didn’t get a window seat.

Something equally as horrible is likely to happen when I go to get my small suitcase and then try to find whatever car my mom is taking to pick me up in, because I love traveling in the sense that I like going new places.

I hate the actual travelling part, especially when I’m alone.

I’m alooone.

Look up all alone by Gorillaz. I’ll add a link later. (HERE)

Because the train is slowing, and I’m home.

πŸ™‚

(This wouldn’t load, so this is actually two days after I got back)