When sun rays crown thy pine clad hills.

I went to Her Majesty’s Penitentiary this morning. Her Majesty needs to get her effing act together and give us a new prison.

Oh, I know it’s not her we need to rely on, but I’m so tired of everyone blaming Joey Smallwood for all of our problems. Let’s colonize!

To be honest the most interesting part of the tour was the tour my Dad gave me while driving there. Do you realize I haven’t been in “old” St. John’s since I moved here two years ago? I KNOW.

We passed the basilica, the lieutenant-governor’s house (and all I have to say is WTF, count those chimneys), the old, old, old graveyards, the Rooms, the super duper awesome old homes.

Sometimes I forget that my Dad grew up in the Newfoundland described in Michael Crummey’s The Wreckage. But then I ask him about random nondescript brick buildings and I get the response “The Roman Catholics own those, the Nuns live there or whatever nonsense they get on with. They owned every [expletive] building down around here back in the day.”

No, Papa! Really? Damn micks!

The prison is no exception to this theme of old England.

Built in the age of Charles Dickens, it is the oldest operating prison in Canada. You can even see where the gallows were.

Other than having a crumbling brick building on their hands, there is one other major problem.

Um. We kind of, might have, um, built our entire city around it.

Not on purpose of course, I’m sure a hundred and fifty years ago it was just trees and rock, right?

But don’t try throwing drugs over the four metre cement walls. For what they lack in infrastructure, they make up for in some seriously high-tech cameras. They can see the number you dial on your cell phone from like a million miles away. I KNOW.

Hey Jude.

I CHALLENGE YOU TO NOT FIND THIS ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE.



I WANT A BABY.

Shaking the wreckage from my hair.

I smell of baths and oceans.

My shampoo smells like bath-beads. As soon as I opened it this morning I was brought back into my youth. Bath-beads were an integral part of bath time.

But when I opened my conditioner, it offered a different type of odor all together. Reading the label it boasts “hints of guava and kelp”. Um, kelp as in seaweed?

Be prepared for this when you see me next.

I have a challenge for my blog readers.

If you can decipher what the shampoo company means by the following statement, I will give you a pack of gum. The good kind. Oh, you know what kind I’m referring to (bubble + mint = God’s gum).

(If you can’t make out what is written, it says: “Apply to wet hair and work it like you want it. Then rinse it like you don’t.”)

Lurkers are encouraged to comment under surreptitious pseudonyms like “lurker #1” and “lurker #2” et cetera.

Good luck.

Low-life vermin.

Fidel Castro (president of Cuba) and Andy Wells (mayor of St. John’s) both announced their resignations in the past two days.

I always knew they were in cahoots.

I have nothing personally against Castro. His country gives me sugar to make my candy sweeter, so how can I dislike him?

But Andy. Andy frigging Wells: you make me want to hunt you down with a paint gun when you open your mouth.

And I get that we have outspoken politicians. If there is one thing Newfoundlanders can do, its bicker. But honestly, buddy, pick your fights.

He’s been on council for over thirty years, mayor for over a decade (SOMEHOW). Even now after accepting a million dollar job as CEO of a major company, he still wouldn’t resign until the Premier asked him to.

Wells is just one of those agitators. And unlike my good chum, John Crosbie (who also likes to open-mouth-insert-foot), Wells never has a sound argument to back up the bullshit he gets on with.

So farewell, Mr. Wells, let it be known that your only achievement in thirty years of politics is that you were runner-up for Rick Mercer’s “Craziest Mayor in Canada” contest.

And in my best behaviour, I am really just like him.

Bounce.

My eyes are leaking copious amounts of liquid. Nope, I’m not upset.

Let me set the scene:

Deciding her desk drawer is just far too untidy, she begins to remove things. Getting to the very back of the space, she comes across her fake eyelashes from two Halloweens ago. “Exciting!” she says aloud and runs to the bathroom to apply them. After putting the glue on to the edges, she carefully places them on top of her eyelids. Opening her eyes she smiles at her now hilarious reflection. Small things amuse small minds. After awhile she notices that blinking has become laborious. She did not give the glue enough time to dry.

Yeah, so my eyelids are pretty much glued open. My tear ducts are not impressed.

Midterm break?

Obviously my definition of “break” is skewed. All I’ve been doing is writing and typing and reading.

And the not fun kind of writing and typing and reading.

The visual epic of Gilgamesh (II).

As you'll remember...

BRIGHT IDEA

All you need is love.

Robyn and I had agreed to exchange gifts for Valentine’s Day, but of course, there were rules. We had to create something using only things we already had in our possession. A creative love swap.

So glitter glue and scissors in hand, I went to work and fashioned a lovely frame showcasing a never before seen photo of the two of us.

Robyn on the other hand took it a step further and turned the photo frame she had created into a CD case. Inside she included a burnt CD of songs from her iTunes that had the word “love” in their title.

So inspired by this, I have decided that today’s love list would be compiled of some of my iTune love songs.


Lay All Your Love on Me – ABBA
All You Need is Love – The Beatles
Five Hebrew Love Songs – Eric Whitacre
Love Shack – B52’s
Futuresex-Lovesound – Justin Timberlake
All is Full of Love – Bjork
Stand Inside Your Love – The Smashing Pumpkins
Love and Trust – Our Lady Peace
Love Will Save the Day – David Usher
Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints - Alexisonfire
Waiting for Your Love – Toto
Love Song – Sara Bareilles
Sex, Love and Honey – Raine Maida
Where’s the Love? – Hanson
Love is all Around – Sloan
Almost Lover – A Fine Frenzy
From My Own True Love (Lost at Sea) – The Decemberists
The Limit to Your Love – Feist
Your Ex-Lover is Dead – Stars
Hate This and I’ll Love You – Muse
Love Type Thing – Tegan and Sara
A Loverless Bed – Sufjan Stevens
Love Affair – Regina Spektor


Maybe there will be a song in there you haven’t heard before and you’ll learn to love it like I have. :)

DO YOU HAVE A DIFFERENT LOVE SONG LIST? LET ME SEE IT.

That dress looks nice on you.

Like a rabbit's ear or a rabbit's belly or some even softer rabbit space.

It’s one of those days, you know?

A bolognie and fried eggs kind of day. A sitting around in my XXL Pink Floyd hoodie watching episode after episode of Scrubs kind of day. A nothing seems important but everything is looming kind of day.

You know?

I’ve been busting my ass this past week, preparing for midterms like it actually matters whether I get an 80 over a 70 (for the record, it does not).

And now I have a night of pausing before I go back at it again tomorrow.

Novels must be read. Essays must be written. Verbs must be conjugated.

I wish you a many a Valentine tomorrow, blog readers.

The visual epic of Gilgamesh.

THE INITIAL EXPLOSION

I bless the rains down in Africa.

I LOVE…

Ice-cube stalagmites
The photo that is hanging above Meagan’s piano at her house in Corner Brook
Scrubs
Bite sized nacho chips
Toto's Africa
The fact that Robyn knows who Toto is without an hour-long explanation from me
Robyn's Dad
Leland Sklar's beard
The smell of ibuprofen
That I know the Soulja Boy dance for Crank Dat in its entirety
Eighty-eight cent boxes of oatmeal cookies
Sexy new BF
Sharing my Lunchable with an old Elementary school chum even though we're both in University
Lurkers
Post-It dinosaur communities (pictures to come!)
Warm drinks at cold bus stops
YOU (duh)


This is the time where I encourage you to write your own love lists. I've seen a few sprout up on people's blogs which excites me to no end! And if you don't have a blog, share your love in the comments!

Have a good weekend, kids.

Cookie racism aside.

Today is Wednesday. Also known as Ash Wednesday. Also known as the beginning of Lent.

Most people give something up for Lent. I do sometimes. For the life of me I can’t remember what I gave up last year, only what Meagan gave up (WANT SOME CHEESE AND CRACKERS, DEAR?).

A blogger I read (and have read for quite sometime) does something she calls CAOK: Calculated Acts of Kindness.

Throughout Lent she does kind acts for people specifically with the intent of just being kind and expecting nothing in return. A “pay it forward” kind of attitude.

She will bring a plate of cookies into work, knit a scarf and mail it to an old friend, compliment the stranger who serves her coffee.

“In a nutshell, I think the easiest way to make the world a friendlier, more peaceful place is to make your home, neighborhood, or workplace a friendlier, more peaceful place. You’ve got to walk the walk.”

And so during this Lenten season I will be applying the CAOK method instead of giving something up (which ultimately does nothing for me on a personal or faith based level anyway). I will offer up a report on how it went over when Lent ends.

Expect to be laden with scarves and cookies during the next forty days.

Stood on the rooftop, scream at the sky again.

I was (and am) so exhausted today.

I walked around campus all day in this debilitated state, shuffling along in my Uggs and praying to God no one paid any attention to me.

Classes became unbearable in my state of fatigue. It’s a real chore to pay attention to Shifty-Eyes-Magoo (aka my Canadian Fiction prof) on any given day of the week, let alone when I’m feeling like a narcoleptic with a belly full of Nyquil.

I had the hardest time getting to sleep last night. I couldn’t shut myself up. Literally.

Yeah, I talk to myself. Try and pretend you’re better than me.

I spent a good hour going over things in my head aloud. First in English, then French and then just for kicks, Inuktitut.

(For the record all I got out in Inuktitut was “Hi, how are you? Oh, stop. Food, mom and dad, milk? Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are…” Then I pretended I was talking to someone of the church and said the entirety of Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus. Jesusi takunalauru…)

I woke up this morning with a lot of pain in my stomach, the most I’ve had since the original incident. Since I had spent the night before going over all of my flaws and troubles (as well as every Inuit song I knew), I wondered if it was somehow anxiety related.

I know one thing’s for sure: tonight I will gag myself.

I was walking with a ghost.

I have absolutely no staying power.

My attention span is that of a goldfish. I’ll start something with such fervor, unable to stop even if I had a gun to my head (though I have to admit this scenario has never happened). A painting. A story. A blog post. A scarf. A movie.

Give me an hour. Give me a day. Give me a week.

Depending on the project, it will lose its appeal in approximately a third of the time it would take to actually complete it.

This makes me nervous for the future.

Relationships? Degrees? Jobs? Do I stand a chance?

Then I wonder if these things aren’t for me. Maybe I’m not a painter. Maybe that story or blog shouldn’t be written. Maybe this movie isn’t my taste.

What is for me?

MY GOODNESS. Why can’t I be satisfied and who do I honestly expect to answer these questions?

Certainly not you lurkers.

There is winter in China.

Tonight Robyn and I went on an undefined mission. Can we have fun without spending a lot of money?

FOOD
Linguine, sauce and bread dipper all stolen from my cupboard/fridge
Baguette $1.99
Brownies $1.39

ENTERTAINMENT
Atonement downloaded from bittorrent

CRAFTUAL NECESSITIES
Sequin crafting supplies $2.00

SNACKAGE
Chips, candy and pop from the Dollarama $3.00

Driving through an ice storm just to go to the Dollarama: priceless

$8.38, not bad at all. We'll have to try and break that record next time. It was one hell of an evening, and so stereotypically Robyn and I.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Atonement was really well done. I was expecting a nice romance story, something a little frivolous that didn’t really require a lot of thinking. But every frame told a story, every line was of great importance. We found ourselves going back and watching scenes over just to gather the whole effect.

Not a movie I’d recommend if you’re looking for a no-thought romance, it definitely had a lot of depth. I’d be very interested in reading the book.

In other news, are you related to Robyn?