A Case Of You

I'm sick of myself.

Let's hear about your weeks.

Procrastination.

So I've got two essays to write based on thousands of readings I must be able to draw on, interview three different transportation agencies, and record those interviews in a script/clip split page script to be prepared for filming.

and what am I doing?

An Excercise, if you will.

Beauty is:
little old ladies in oversized coats
that Harry Potter scene where he's walking across the blizzard-y courtyard (the one that looks like The Quad)
underground societies
the sickening green jealousy that rears its ugly head at any great perfect line of poetry.
a crowded couch and a cheesy movie, every night.
the mess behind me
"The Internet started out as a government military device to release information.... do you think they really anticipated YouTube?"
Sailing Into The Mystic
the competitiveness of Top Friends on Facebook
tangerine shafts of light at 1:32 AM
the potentiality of colour.
the precise measurement and planning of the perfect snow fort.
Mittens and Kittens
not the actual store window of Ogilvy, but the idea behind it.
"Star, star, teach me how to shine" transitions (Swell Season, last Thursday!)
stalking rock stars.
The Irish
"China Propaganda" calendar - 2008!
the numbers, the numbers, the daunting old numbers.
onomatopoeia
&
fin.

You know the moment in the music, between the downbeats,
where everything you've ever experienced comes together to fit perfectly like pieces in a puzzle?

The piano sang out the nine million raindrops hitting the cold rough concrete.

A newspaper angled to the skies,
praying for mercy, dangling by fingertips of
the women
with the sprayed hair
and the ivory teeth
(brighter than 88 keys)
and the bitten nails.

Carols drip with the rain
hung with contradictory spells of too many seasons.

The ants are hiding; waiting for the sun
the leather shoe peeping out of the corner

you can hear it
you can hear it
and
you can feel it.

and all this
because life is not a
red wheelbarrow sparkling in the rain,
it's the impatient child,
red and yellow,
daring you to

run.

The First One, All Over Again

Does anyone ever feel really silly doing this? During my avid Blogging days (back in grades 8 and 9 where I thought my heartbroken soul actually had things to say), I was unstoppable, always ready to pipe out line after line of drippy, but nevertheless present, e-gold. And now, I'm here in University, still sans boyfriend, along with other things (like my sanity? Uhhh, yes).
So this leads me to my question: why another attempt at this e-journaling thing? Did I not learn the lesson with climbintheback.blogspot.com, the last untouched brainchild of absolute boredom? Clearly, my ambition (and not to mention, procrastination) has gone the extra mile, leaving my brain slowly heaving along.

So hi. Here I am, blogger.

Let's talk about the last few days:
Christmas is approaching, and it's becoming more evident in the city of Montreal. No snow as of yet, but the shoppers emerge from over-dressed downtown stores with a renewed joy and bigger shopping bags. I've found that I can no longer stay in shopping districts for too long because the sight of people finding so much falsified happiness in material items a little depressing. But then again, I'm the one ambling into any store with a "Jusque 50% Solde!" sign, so what does that say about me?

I'm also spending too much money on alcohol and less time on homework, which is getting me nervous because exams begin unsettlingly soon. I'm a little too comfortable here, I think - I'm still in that mindset of, "Oh, if I just do the required homework then I'll be fine." which I don't quite think will cut it. On the plus side, I haven't failed anything yet; nor do I skip classes. So, I mean, here's hoping, right?

In other news, I have plans for next year pretty much all figured out --- sharing a house with three people who don't irritate me, hopefully downtown near a Metro station. You'll soon learn about them; but that is not for now.

I watched Memoirs of a Geisha two nights ago and am very proud of the three Chinese leading ladies; but also a little unsettled that they played Japanese parts. There's no WWII beef on my part or anything (although I can see the level of disrespect about that), but it's not terribly hard to spot differences between Japanese and Chinese people; and the accents! Gong Li and Zhang Ziyi barely have English down and they were forced to do it all in Japanese accents? Strange-o! Not terribly impressed with how that turned out. However, still a beautifully shot movie and a sweet story line. I have heard many fans of the book express their disappointment in the movie; so I think I'll attempt to tackle the book and decide for myself which one I like best. With me, though, it's generally the books that get the more votes; so we'll see.

This week, I'll be trying to finish my Shakespeare essay once and for all and getting my CV together so I can apply for a call centre job (one of the few job opportunities I'm limited to, since I have such little work experience and can't speak French). Not sure how that'll all turn out, but we'll hope for the best.

But for now, it's 1:23 and I feel like hot chocolate and hot lovin' (or just some time in my bed to read).

Good night!