Ah, Office Space

I watched Office Space again this weekend because I was at a friend’s house and she hadn’t seen it yet. Appalling, I know, but friends help friends out and show them Office Space, which, I’m sure I’ve mentioned many times before, is a superlatively awesome movie. Cult classic type deal. Most people like it because its similar to some grey space they used to work in, familiarity breeds affection or something.

“PC load letter? What the @#!$ does that mean?”

My office isn’t really that bad, it’s a good job in a location easy for me to get to, its air conditioned by environmentally friendly means (using the cold water at the bottom of Lake Ontario), nice people (even though usually not as funny as they think they are) and free coffee/hot chocolate. It’s really just not me, not for longer periods of time anyway.

My favourite is Milton (in Office Space, or O.S. if you will, tee hee, O.S., that’s my high school). He’s this squirrelly guy with thick glasses and a red Swingline stapler. He keeps mumurring, “I could burn this whole place down… last time I did not get a piece of cake.” The whole movie is laced with gansta type hip-hop rap music (from the mid 90’s) even though its all pasty white nerd people and one brown guy.

That’s pretty much it, I could throw out random quotes, but if you haven’t seen it you won’t get it. If you have I’m sure you’d chuckle to yourself. Maybe I’ll just list a few:

“Yeah, Peter, if you could just go ahead and put the new cover sheets on the TPS reports, that would be great… we’ll get you a copy of that memo.”

1: “I’ve decided not to go to work anymore, I just don’t like it.”
2: “So you’re going to quit?”
1: “No, I’m just not going to go.”

"I can't believe we're looking up money laundering in a dictionary."

Anyway, you probably don’t think its funny, you non O.S. watching person you. I have no use for you then. Good day.

A Real Robert Frost

I wrote this at the end of the WORST semester of my LIFE, no lie. This is actually how I felt, sitting in Pratt, going to bed at 3 every night and getting up at 7. Torture I tell you, you should have seen me at the end of it all, I honestly did not know where I was:

The nuances of group theory are tormenting my dreams,
Coming in with shifty eyes, seeping through the seams
Of my semi-conscious mind -- attacking sleeping hour.
But even in my waking life I am in its power.
I must study all today, I've only me to blame.
Improbability will find me here, and then you'll see a flame.
The sparks are yet collecting on this kindled head --
The fire will break out and I'll soon be dead.

For I am going to burst into flames
At some point this day.
Yes, I will burst into flames
Flaring up like hay.
And when I do burst into flames
You will see me teary.
After I have burst into flames,
Studying group theory.

I'm old

Last night I went with my friend Danny to this thing at his dad’s church. I didn’t know anyone but him, but hey, I can be personable. So his friend Karen shows up and she talked to me for a while. And you always ask people what you do, so I said, “I go to U of T…. actually I just graduated.” That got a face, not a bad one, just a slightly surprised one. She just finished high school, so I’m probably 3 years older than her… but I feel old. Nevertheless, she was really nice.

I also get faces when I tell people that I double majored in math and linguistics. I usually follow that with, “I know, I’m a nerd.” To which I either get the, “Yeah, you are,” response or, “No, that’s really interesting, I wish I could do math.” Almost invariably there’s the comment about how math and linguistics are so different, to which I sometimes explain that they’re not that different, its how my mind works, they’re logical, yada yada yada.

But I decided that you’re way better off in life in general if you’re a nerd. I’m not claiming this as an original thought or anything, just making it my own now. Smart people can figure things out and go places if they so choose. I say this to justify my supreme uncoolness in high school and beyond, but I’m ok with that. As long as you find other people who appreciate the nerd factor or your eccentricities as well.

At least now my clothes are slightly better and the hair is a bit more tamed. Still haven’t caught on to the everyday makeup thing, I like to sleep as much as possible. But I’ll always be a nerd, I think partly because I just get really excited about things. Like syntax and logic puzzles and I write poems about group theory (I should find that again). I like to think it makes me a passionate person, but more likely I’m just very sensitive to blood sugar levels.

Hangover Cure

Last night I went with my current roomie for a little bike ride down Bloor. We ended up, past supper time and hugry, in The Korean Business District where we wanted to be daring and eat some ethnic food. So we stopped at Sin Sun and I had the only vegetarian thing on the menu (which you can get with beef if you like, the waitress offered the seafood dishes as veggie as well).

Anyway, my roommate chose this soup called something like “Soup for the morning after drinking to relieve a hangover,” actually, I think that’s exactly what it was called. How could you resist just seeing what this concontion was? Well, it took a while for the food to come, but they gave us salad. But when her soup came it was actually bubbling, boiling AT the table. Honest. Scared me a little bit.

Meanwhile there were some people who knew what they were doing frying stuff up on the grill with a massive flame being sucked into the vent dealie. So, I tell Lila to taste her soup and she gives it a stir only to find about 5 of the 8 tentacles of a whole baby octopus breach the surface. She started a pile of seafood in her empty salad bowl. She came up with several king shrimp that still had their shells, legs, and oh yes their eyes. There was also a whole baby squid, a few clams and part of a crab shell and all. I was killing myself laughing as each new discovery emerged from the self boiling bowl of mystery.

When she actually got up the courage to eat these delicacies I was mostly unable to watch. She ate 5 or 6 of the octopus’s tentacles and ripped the untasties off the shrimp. She actually convinced me to try the broth, which I did, and it was fine. I was just having trouble thinking about all the entire creatures that were cooked in it.

We still have no idea why this is good for a hangover, I don’t think eating semi-grossness the morning after will make you feel better. Maybe the logic is that you will puke out all the crap in your system thereby purging your system of toxins.

I’ve had Korean food several times before, so I was expecting rice noodles and seaweed, but maybe there are different subcategories. There was a poster on the wall advertising beef tripe soup that we couldn’t decipher, even though it was in English, sort of. It reminded me of reading the English Indian newspapers.

Anyway, fun times. Then we had ice cream with oreo crumbs and melted peanut butter since we earned it, somehow.

New Post

I went home for the weekend, its good to get out of the city. I live across the street from construction which is not a very pleasant morning bird. Somehow these construction workers have managed to find the tools with the most penetrating and awful sounds known to man. At least now I have to get up at 7 anyway, during the year it really put a damper on trying to sleep till at least 9.

So yes, back to the country, where I grew up – what I realized is that its a big part of who I am, the country and the lack of people and specialty stores. I went to the movies with my mom and it cost considerably less than $13.50 per person, I went to the beach and swam and played Frisbee. Roz and I did a little stargazing because its dark out there in the boonies and there actually happens to be a lot of stars.

I saw my friends who just got back from England, with their new chic London hairstyles and knowledge of many thing British. I also managed to sit in the midday sun for a considerable amount of time with only partial sun protection. Now I have white lines beside my eyes were the sunglasses arms were and a thumb shaped smear of white on my forehead of where the sunscreen actually made it. The rest of my face is a lovely sheen of fire engine red. Thus is the pasty life.

Back in the T dot, enjoying the lack of heat wave. That is me currently.

I have a dream! No wait, a crush

Ok, so I’m a little apprehensive to admit this, but I know Dinah has my back. I have a crush on Stephen Colbert. Don’t get ahead of me, its mostly on his insane volumes of (usually) quality sarcasm/satire, but for an old married guy he looks pretty great too.

It all started when I began watching the Daily Show (pre Colbert Report) and I would wait for the episodes when that dashing correspondent would blow some White House contradiction wide open. Either that or present “Today in God” (boo beep beep boo beep beep boo) or a painfully hilarious interview with some unsuspecting schlub from Ohio.

“We have no desire to make anybody look like a blithering idiot, but we do love it when they do.”- Stephen Colbert

Without Stephen Colbert we would be oblivious to the dangers of bears in all forms and we would never get to better know many of the 219 (239?) districts in the States. The faux Republican thing is a little hard to follow at times, you just have to assume everything he says in insincere. He also talks down Canadians in favour of blind American arrogance and world domination, but just refer the above sincerity comment.

Its not actually complicated. He’s one of those people that you always have to say the first and last name and from imdb I found out that he’s deaf in one ear and came from a family of a crapload of children. His ties aren’t always bang on and he adjust his glasses obsessively but there’s something about those beady eyes.
I have a crush.

Courtesy of my brother’s blog:
"Jon, the vast majority of bloggers out there are responsible correspondents doing fine work in niche reporting fields like Gilmore Girl fan fiction, or cute things their cats do, or photoshopped images of the Gilmore Girls as cats. That's great. Where I draw the line is with these attack-bloggers. Just someone with a computer who gathers, collates and publishes accurate information that is then read by the general public. They have no credibility. All they have is facts. Spare me." –S Colbert

Le Bureau

I’m so not an office person. I sit here and move my feet up and down for hours. Honestly, I can’t sit still. A fact I did not actually consciously realize until my dear friend Rachel pointed out that I played with a sugar packet for an hour when she was interviewing me. I get up and go to the printer every chance I get, I walk around and around and I roll around on my chair. Wouldn’t you? If you had a roll-y chair? If there weren’t so many people who can see me I would spin about on my chair, getting dizzier and dizzier, laughing like a maniac until I finally just loose all balance and smack my head on the desk on the way down. That would be a good day, spinning, teehee.

I’ve made some random geometrical artwork for my cubicle which are currently tacked to my foamy 2/3 wall. They look cool (I get compliments and, “How did you do that!”s) and they involve no artistic skill whatsoever. Only know how and a ruler – ruler’s are fantastic. I also have the Sponge Bob and Dilbert comic that Sue passed on to me.

I’ve started keeping food in my cupboard. They’re like crackers, cookies, pudding, instant oatmeal. Its so I don’t actually have to remember to pack my lunch every day and its working pretty well. When I get up the motivation to make actual lunches then I’ll have to remember, but maybe lunch is just overrated.

I think I'm having problems with my tense and number agreement. Anyway, office office office. I keep coming back every weekday.

Butterflies and sugar puffs

Bleh. Still feeling remarkably similar to crap. I even toyed with the idea of calling in sick, but I would never do that, its just not me. There’s a difference between not going to class just because you’d rather not move and not going to work – you have to go to work.

The only time ever in my life that I called in sick at work was when I worked at Lawson’s in high school. It was my first job, and I was even planning on going to work, but my mom made me stay home. I had just gotten back from a 10 day missions trip in Ensenada, Mexico and had been in the Mexican hospital a few days earlier. They didn’t admit me, which is good, but I was mega sick all the same. I couldn’t move, I kept barfing, you know how it is. And they stopped giving me pain killers after like 2 tylenol, I was so not impressed but they were trying to take care of me.

I was dehydrated and I had to drink this electrolyte solution that was “manzana” flavoured. I can just tell you truly that since that day I have not had apple juice. Needless to say it was probably a pretty good reason to call in sick. Today I didn’t have as good a reason, just barely slept, had a headache and again with the feeling like the ralphing. But enough of how I feel crappy.

"I was saying Boo-urns"

Today is not so good. I didn’t sleep much last night because it was hot and muggy. I feel that I would be better suited to bear the heat if only I could breathe, lack of oxygen really puts me out. Now I’m at work, which is actually the best part of my day so far. Its air conditioned and quiet, but I still feel fairly crappy.

Showering is overrated. I avoid it whenever possible. You people who shower every day, shame on you wasting water like that! Every other day is way more than enough. I can be skuzzy if I choose to be and if I don’t smell bad/if I’m not near you you can’t complain on any reasonable basis.

My bike is now fix-fixed. Its actually my brother’s old bike, but it’s a pretty sweet Gary Fisher. I had it all tuned up and everything thing then the tire tore itself apart and now I’m finally riding again. But I am doing so cautiously since I don’t want another crash like I caused in May.

I’m in the 900's (out of 1200 pages) in Les Miserables and its all this stuff about an insurrection and this big barricade they’re building. It would possibly be more riveting if I knew more about French history in the 18th and 19th century, but as it happens I don’t.

In my efforts to read through the Bible again I’m stuck in Exodus. I just can’t handle the crazy things they do. Aaron makes the golden calf for the people to worship and God gets angry, and Moses asks him what’s going on so Aaron said, “Well, I asked all the people for their gold and made them a calf to worship,” like it’s some kind of excuse. These people are nuts.

Ok, pensions again.

Humidex of 157.

It is hoooo-ooot (that says hot, not hoot). I guess I can handle no air conditioning, you’ll all know if I make it to the other side.

I love those tiny spoons they use to give you ice cream samples.

Muzak

Well, I feel as if I caused a small tumult with that last post. Understand that I didn’t write the whole thought, I thought I would spare you the long description and pondering. If you’re wondering more about my theory (I’m looking at you Peweyon/Anonymous) just call me! I know you know my phone number, don’t give me that face. So on a light note, this is rando-post.

Firstly, my friend Dinah (whose blog is on the sidebar cuz I don’t feel like figuring out in-post links right now) did this on her blog and now that I have an iPod and have put ALL of my music on it, I will do it too. Ok, iPod is on shuffle and…. go!

1. Hand – Jars of Clay: This is off the “If I left the Zoo” album which is probably my least favourite of their albums, but good just the same. I don’t know, no significance here. Moving on.

2. Carried Away – Sonicflood: This is the live version of a worship song, the album is awesome, really high energy, good for shuffling down the sidewalk.

3. Entertaining Angels (alternate mix) – Newsboys: Ok, I adore the Newsboys, especially their mid older stuff (everything from Going Public to Step up to the Microphone) and this song is actually from the Entertaining Angels single disc. I got this CD because it has this wicked remix of Shine, the rest of the songs I’m indifferent about in their remixed fashions. If you know Newsboys, you will know what I’m talking about.

4. Some Days are Better Than Others – U2: This is off of Zooropa and I bought it in first year, so it’s memorially connected to that. In O-week (which is what we called frosh week at TWU, O stands for ‘orientation’) our leader dudette gave everyone in our group goldfish and I named mine Zooropa. Oh yeah, and U2 is awesome.

5. M – Chantal Kreviazuk: This is my favourite song off of her Colour Moving and Still album, it’s slow and semi-emotional and she just has a great voice. I know people look down on Chantal for her recent hair colouring commercials, but I don’t hold it against her. Her voice rocks and she can’t really help it if she’s beautiful AND Canadian.

6. Made to Heal – Our Lady Peace: Hehe, that’s funny. Since Raine Maida is married to Chantal Kreviazuk. This song is from Spiritual Machines which is my favourite OLP album, its just good strong songs that must have come out of electric jam sessions. Their social commentary is interesting throughout the disc but their songs are better.

7. The Beautiful Letdown – Switchfoot: The crossovers that they are they make decent, upbeat music. However most people miss the subtle satire in their songs.

8. Planet Telex – Radiohead: From the public friendly The Bends it’s a good introduction into Radiohead. I personally prefer the weirder stuff, especially Kid A, love that album.

9. Wake Up – Alicia Keys: She’s my key to the R&B world. At least she’s a real artist who actually plays the piano and still takes lessons and practices and everything.

10. Yellow – Coldplay: Solid. Coldplay are amazing, shut up all you people who say they’re just copying Radiohead or U2 or something, because I don’t want to hear your crap. They do not sound the same, if you’ve ever actually hear the other bands. I feel you just picked that up from some stupid MTV commentary and then decided to spread it around before thinking for yourself. A lot of people are down on Coldplay for being depressing and making you want to drown slowly in the bathtub. I, however, feed off of depressing music, there’s just something about it that you just can’t get a fix for anywhere else. The video for Yellow is cool, you have to watch carefully to see all the coolness that is actually going on. And Coldplay is the best live show I’ve ever had the privilege of seeing, even better than U2.

Yes, these were chosen from shuffle, if that makes it any less self-indulgent.

Out.

Theoretically speaking

A central problem in differential calculus is that of initial conditions. Other problems include finding integration techniques for complex equations and estimation procedures for non-integrateable ones, but I’m not talking about those right now.

A common application of ordinary differential equations is predicting the weather. The initial conditions are things like temperature, barometric pressure and location of cold/warm fronts. Meteorologists (with previous legwork done by the indispensable mathematicians) plug these parameters into equations to predict what the weather will be like tomorrow, the next day, 5 days from now. But you’ve probably noticed that they never predict beyond 5 days and this is because we cannot get exact enough measurements of the initial conditions and there is necessary error involved. The error of the prediction increases the farther into the future you go and it becomes to great to be useful.

So, what I’m thinking is that life in the physical sense is essentially predictable. This is theoretical, so bear with me. If we knew all the initial conditions, where all the atoms and sub-atomic particles are originally located, their potential energy, velocities, mass and any other possible property that could be measured, we could predict where they would go and what would happen. If the motion and activity of every such particle could be known then this predictability would possibly give us an accurate look into the future. We would know what leaf would blow in which direction on Sunday at 2:32:45 pm. We would know because there would only be one possible action at each moment in time based on the initial conditions.

If we think of thought as electrical pulses and waves in the brain then it too would fall under this assumption of predictability. If we don’t think of it that way, then this means nothing, so I’m going to suppose we do for a moment. That means decisions of individuals and opinions and feelings would also be predictable and therefore everything has always been set in place, from the beginning of time and everything will happen as it always did.

Not trying to say that choice doesn’t exist, just that it might be predictable. Except for the fact we would never be able to get precisely exact initial conditions for anything, so we can’t actually see into the physical future. Do you follow me? Likely not, I’m not often good at getting my theoretical ponderings across to others.

Good night and good luck

So, in the building where I work there’s a security desk out front and the guards, I’m pretty sure, are told to greet the people coming in and out of the building. So I get a nod of the head from the supervisor guard in the morning and a weird look from the guy who covers lunch. But, when I leave at 4:30, there’s the afternoon shift guard who happens to be quite entertaining.

I often leave the building with a co-worker of mine, another lady who heads the subway, where I leave her to walk the rest of the way home. And every night, we go down the elevator and bid farewell to our favourite security guard – Brad. His name isn’t actually Brad, we have no idea what it is, but we call him Brad. My other friend tried to think up ugly names for him, but all the ones we tried actually sounded quite dashing, so we named him after Mr. Pitt himself and I find it appropriate.

Brad is probably about my age, early 20’s and could be a summer student like myself. Who knows, we never actually talk to him. But on to why he is entertaining. The first few times we went through this rountine it was a simple, “Good-bye,” “Have a good evening, ladies,” at which point no special notice was taken. However, one day we got the eye-brow lift along with our good-night. Hmmm… minimal intrigue there, but I think it gets better.

The next week, one night we got what I like to call the ‘movie-star look’ with one eye-brow raised and the big teethy grin. He could have been doing that shoot-you-with-his-fingers thing and it would have fit perfectly. We giggle and comment as soon as we get out the door. Yesterday was a funny day too, I think he was trying out the debonair look.

Anyway, he amuses us and I’m sure we amuse him. Here’s to Brad, the afternoon security guard.

Like a humid milkshake

July feels thick. June was humming and buzzing and crashing, now July is thick. This time of year is heavily connected to memory of recent years past which waves in and out in my head. May/June of last year was when I traveled to India for 5 weeks then Scotland for 1 – clearly a big deal. But Canada Day in particular has it sting. I love Canada, I love the fireworks more than any person above the age of majority should, but screw all that because you all know that fireworks are fantastic. No, Canada Day isn’t difficult because of anything to do with Canada, just a kind of temporal coincidence really.

In June of 2004 the Owen Sound Alliance had a rough time. There were four young people who died in freak incidents, all within a few weeks. First was a 13 year old (Jordan) in a moto-cross race who hit a tree. Next was a recent TWU graduate (Laura) who got sick one morning and didn’t make it to that night. Then a mountaineer (Mike) who got caught in an avalanche with his friend while hiking across the mountains in Alberta. Last was an evangelist who was in a car accident in Palestine during a summer missions trip.

Jordan was my little brother’s age. Laura and Mike were my older brother’s age. The evangelist, James, was my age. We knew them all, knew them well, knew that they were exceptional. Not just in the way that people seem exceptional when they’re not around anymore, but truly exceptional.

So now I’m thinking about it, even though it was 2 years ago, and in the passing of Canada Day July retains a thickness for me. On Canada Day 2004 was James visitation, the day before the funeral. That day I saw his brothers and sister and his parents, who have had an especially important impact on me particularly through high school. And then a bunch of us who ended up there went to a bar-b-que and created a memorial ceremony. That was the first annual James Pyles memorial Palestinian rock throwing contest. What happens is you get someone to stand an arbitrary distance away, then you hurl big rocks and them and they’re not supposed to move. One friend who willingly had rocks hurled at him was so good at it that he didn’t even move when a large rock came and nailed him in the foot. Go team.

Anyway, really a blur of thoughts and experiences. It all sounds sad, but it is truly hopeful since all four of our dear, young friends are with Jesus and we are the ones left here waiting.

Thus is the thickness of July.

(........................................)

Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye.
Four and twenty blackbirds, baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing.
Now, wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?

The king was in his counting house, counting out his money.
The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden, hanging out the clothes,
When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose!

Random things I feel I have to tell you…

Read A Tale of Two Cities for the best ending
Read Lord of the Rings for the best climax
Read Sweet Valley Twins for the much needed throwback to grade 6
Read A Hero of Lesser Causes for semi-depressing Canadian Literature
Watch Zoolander for a mindless evening of hilarity
Watch The Shawshank Redemption for the best movie ever made
Watch The Matrix for your heavy electronic music and concept film fix
Watch V for Vendetta for a mindful evening of fantasticness
Watch Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow for the worst movie ever (in a non-amusing way)
Listen to Wouldn’t it Be Nice by the Beach Boys to feel 16 and maybe groove around wherever you are a little
Listen to Fefe Dobson if you want your ears to bleed
Listen to Radiohead if you know what’s good for you
Drink bubble-tea at least once, you’ll either love it or hate it
Don’t eat the shanghai noodles from Spring Rolls, they have addictive chemicals in them
Try scotch just to say you’ve tried scotch
Eat cheese whenever possible
Read an entire book inside Chapters without ever buying it
Order a Venti latte from Starbucks then go on a nonstop car ride to somewhere far away
Look up when you’re walking down the street, feet are boring
Wear the same hoodie everyday to class (or anywhere else you can pull it off)
Eat pop-rocks
Get out the old spiro-graph and make art again, or a lite-brite is good too

Ok, enough arbitrariness. I just feel like telling you what to do, whoever you are….

Dear Friends,

You have been asking me all year long, “What are you doing in September?” The fact is, I honestly don’t know. I applied to grad school last fall, I got into the masters of linguistics program at the University of Edinburgh, then I never accepted because too many things are swirling around. For one thing I can’t afford Edinburgh but now I’m hoping to go there next year, once I figure out how to get through the loop holes. Taking a year off is very unlike me, I’m not sure how I’ll make out, but I think God is leading me to where he wants me to be. I have to trust.

Since I’m not going to grad school this year (*tear*) I’ve been trying to find out what I am supposed to be doing. I’ve been unofficially offered a longer contract here at the office that I work at, since I’m awesome – or more likely because they’re understaffed in this department and now that I’m trained I’m useful. But, as per a previous post, I don’t think I’d be able to handle that. Office work is not my forté and I might just have to jump off the roof. It would be nice to make money for a longer period of time, but money is just money, it comes and goes.

So, supplemental plans are ongoing. I applied to Wycliffe Bible Translators. I don’t actually want to translate Bible’s, but I do want to do over seas missions and relief work as well as linguistics. I thought it would be a fair intersection to get me going. I’ve also applied to the World Food Programme, which is part of the UN. Their head office is in Rome and they have people out on the field around the world – wherever there are hungry people. I need to be serving the poor and destitute, it is part of my calling if not all of it.

My mom has been recently telling me to be a teacher, she says I would be good at it. But I’m not sure. A friend of mine in high school made me promise never to become a teacher because she said I couldn’t bring myself down to the level of the student. I never had problems with high school math, I would probably not be able to see why a student couldn’t get a concept. But maybe teaching English on the other side of the world is what it should be, I just don’t want to get caught up in a really sketchy situation, you never really know what organizations you can trust.

My best friend wants me to find a job in Vancouver so we can share a place there, and our backup plan is to move to New Zealand and live with her friends there, since there are apparently a lot of jobs to be had. I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand, I even contemplated doing grad school there. But they’re crazy and in the Southern hemisphere so the school year actually starts in February. In the back of my mind there’s always the, “Maybe I’ll just move to Europe.” I think that would be cool, if I could find a decent job then I could go to Paris on the weekends and stuff, do Europe.

Whatever happens I’m sure it will turn out all right, but I have lots of freak out episodes. When you’re entire life is up in the air it can be a little disconcerting. At least its up in the air in a positive, option filled way. But the thing with options is not only do you have to choose one, you have to find out what they all are.

Ok. Well there’s my life, since everyone wants to know.

Let me Count the Ways

I would like you to know about all the ways that I am sensitive. You know, those Anne Geddes pictures with the babies in a watermelon, or those posters with a kitten sleeping beside a great big dog – they just get to me, right here (*fist against heart*).

But all sarcasm aside (I really wish tone would come across better in text, but what can I do? I hope you don’t think I’m sincere all the time because that would be a big mistake) I’m not big on the cutesy stuff. What I do want to tell you about are all my other sensitivities that make me the soft, gentle person that I am.

Number 1: Sensitive teeth. All you people who bite right into ice cream, I hate you. It causes me pain just to see you do it. My brothers love doing that in my face and tell me I just have to eat through the pain. Sensodyne-F doesn’t work, none of the other sensitive toothpastes work, no one believes me. Why would I lie about this?

Number B: Sensitive skin. I burn like a piglet in Arizona. “Oh, but don’t you tan?” No. Not unless I turn bright red first. I’m pasty white, in fact I’m so pale that my skin is see-through. People always tell me I have pen on my chin, but its just a vein that you can see. If you’re ever wondering why its so dangerous to cut your wrists, I’ll just show you mine.

Number trois: Light sensitivity. My eyes are blue and don’t shield themselves from much. I’ll walk outside on a cloudy day and flinch in pain as my pupils crunch up into little tiny pinpoint dots. I try to take my sunglasses everywhere, seems like the sensible thing to do. When I walk down Bloor Street at night there’s this one store that has a really bright display case which kills my eyes, so I usually walk past it with my eyes closed.

Number 4: Sound sensitivity. Sometimes my ears just go sensitive and I have to get the radio turned way down. But what’s worse are the sounds I can never stand. You know that sound when people file their nails? Or scratching ice off a window? I’m cringing just thinking about it, I have no idea why.

Now that you think I’m a total wuss, at the end of a very mediocre post I am contented that you now know more random facts about me. Random facts are what life’s all about, if you haven’t discovered that yet, well, maybe you’ve found what life is actually all about.