I just want everything as long as it's free

Just spent the morning helping a friend pack drop bags for a 1000-mile dogsled race. Here's the link to the website: www.yukonquest.com. Cheer for Jerry Joinson, ok? After that, I came home and ate some of the world's most delicious goose soup. Aaaand I'll be skiing tonight for New Years. Life is pretty awesome sometimes.

The chemicals are restless in my head

Guess what I'm eating for breakfast! That's right, cheese noodles! None of that eating healthy stuff is tolerated around here, folks.


I had a dream last night that was pretty epic. I was feeding a bunch of rabbits, and panicking because I would never be able to feed them all in time. With each rabbit, someone gave me a lunch, or at least the ingredients to prepare a lunch. So I ate the first lunch and saved the rest to take back to University with me, because I am poor and food is food. I then boarded a plane for India and ended up underground in a collapsing Colosseum-like structure and was tasked with milking a goat. We went past security and the guard asked me if I had a goat, and I panicked and lied and said no. Then I was really worried that I wouldn't get my coat back and the other security guard accused me of having head lice. I eventually got my coat back, but not my goat. And then I had dinner with an Indian family, the names of which I couldn't remember, but I think that they were supposed to save me from something or other. Jeeze. Dreams, huh?


I will be back in Victoria in...5 days, I guess. Wow. I'll be sad to leave, but mannnn I miss my friends. 

Entirely different viewpoints even when viewing the same thing

Well, hey, there. How have your holidays been going? Hope everything is tickity-boo. I went to a dogsled race yesterday and ended up bringing home a poodle, who sat in my lap while I fed him chips. Crosby (yuck) is a rescue from the US of A. Kim, whose family was hosting the event, was going to dog grooming school down there and ended up coming back to Quesnel with the aforementioned Labradoodle and a Basenji. My parents would shoot me on sight if I brought two dogs home with me, or lock the doors and pretend to be travelling in a foreign land, or something.


The race was difficult. It almost isn't worth running dogs for two weeks in the winter, especially when they're expensive dogs that aren't mine. It just makes me really sad and mopey for weeks afterwards. If I don't own a dog team by the time I'm 30, I'll be doing something wrong with my life.


Boardgame suggestion: Labyrinth. In fact, I think I'll go bully my parents and younger sibling into playing it now. Hope your holidays are going well.

Oh, the rugged northern shore

 

That was my ski yesterday. Slush is the devil's contribution to winter.

I have been looking for a beautiful song on the Internet called Woodsmoke and Oranges, but haven't found the version that I want yet. This link is a cover done by a youth choir, and it isn't too bad, but they ruined the last part of the song by imitating a rabid loon. It is originally performed by Three Sheets to the Wind.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80kSoijgwSw&feature=related

I'll be up at 4 o'clock tomorrow, on my way to the first dog race of the season. Wish me luck.

"What the fuck happened?!?" Humanity's cry.

 

Hey, y'all. Hope that your boxing day vacations have been as loverly as mine has been. Woke up this morning, travelled to a snowy lake, went skiing, got totally bogged down in slush, hitched a ride on a snowmachine, sat by a campfire, strapped on a pair of defective snowshoes, stumbled around on an island, took pictures, ate sausage and moose meat, went back home. Nice. The lake was frozen and covered with low-lying fog. The sun must have been out higher above, however, because the day was infused with a soft golden light and quite warm. Also at the lake were a young couple from Chilliwack who are crazy smart and talented. I have known the guy forever; I was actually his candlebearer at his graduation ceremony way back when. I can't remember many of his accomplishments, but he can build anything, fix anything, and I believe he is designing a cooling system for the medical isotope reactors. She is working towards a Masters in Biology, makes her own cheese, skis really well and is beautiful. I want to be both of them when I grow up.

The picture at the top always makes me laugh. Hope that your holidays are treating you well and that you are consuming vast amounts of delicious food with slightly exasperating, though lovable, family members.   

Merry Christmas

If I'm not huggin ya don't stand close enough for me to hug ya

Here is a painting by Jean-Michel Basquiat for you. The only reason I know of his artwork is because I felt like watching a documentary at Cinecenta, and a film about his life was playing. He grew up poor and lived on the streets for awhile before making his mark as a graffiti artist. He began painting and gradually became famous. His apartment was full of money that he didn't know what to do with, and he partied hard with Madonna and whatnot. Basquiat died at the age of 27 of a drug overdose, leaving behind hundreds of paintings and the occasional haunting picture of a thin, black man with wild dreadlocks and solemn eyes. I wonder if the fact that his son was famous was of any consolation to his father when his child died before he did.


I have just been running dogs and eating. Life is pretty darn good.


Happy Christmas Eve. I think I like this day even more than Christmas itself.

I'll probably have to leave those windows open, after all

Merry nearly-Christmas, everyone! The Internet has finally been restored to full service at our house, and I am actually typing this on my laptop. Very cool.

The day has been quiet here. I cleaned the house some, ate a lot, took a nap, played with my dog, and generally took advantage of the free time allotted to university students at Christmas. Which is nice, but I feel so restless. And also kind of bad for my mom. Here's what happened: I was baking cookies last night and dropped some butter on the floor. Because the floor sealer on the tiles in our house didn't work, the butter left a stain, which my mom mentioned this morning. She also said something about having to use floor stripper on the tile because the stain wouldn't come out otherwise. Now, I know what a nightmare it's been for my parents, having a floor that stains with every bread crumb and drop of water. But instead of just saying sorry, I was a bitchy, hormonal nightmare. I glared and grouched and didn't apologize. And now I feel bad. Urgh.

Family is great. But more and more, I think it is preferable in small doses.

 

Ohhh, baby, whatcha gonna do with them flagella?

Running, running, running, dogs, dogs, dogs. Drove to Fort Fraser today and took out two four-dog teams on super fast trails. The yearling I had up front was a big, rangy looking hound who fairly bounded along, until he decided that it was time to take a break. It is much harder to get 60 pounds of muscle to listen to you when you don't feed it on a regular basis.

I also saw JD and AD for the first time in aaages. Which was nice, but also not so much, as both of them are having health issues and finding it harder to do the same kind of stuff that they used to. I'm so used to thinking of my mushing family as being invincible, that it's a shock to realize that they have that same human foibles as the rest of us. So, yeah. Even though the day was great, I'm feeling a little down. I don't want to do dishes. I don't want to talk to my mom about my school marks. I don't want to see anyone from the high school crowd. I don't want to cook. I don't even particularly want to write. So maybe I'll leave it here and go wash my hands. I smell like husky.

I also miss being alone.

Just because you love the mountains doesn't mean that the mountains love you

Hey again, Internet. So, this is what I have been doing with myself since I've come home; fighting with squirrely dogs and eating a lot. This picture is from a couple of seasons ago, which is why I look like a complete dork. But the race was awesome.

It is pretty different, being here. I like it, and also, I don't. Stocked refrigerators are great. The same goes for snow, home-cooked meals, and snowmobiles. Lack of public transit and your parents being super stressed about the Christmas season isn't so hot. But that's alright. Because the WEATHER more than makes up for it! It's cold, properly cold! And snowing!

I headed down the Antimony road with CH and a bunch of misbehaving mutts yesterday, and it was fabulous. The dogs chased a fox off into the bush, got into several fights, and caused a couple of horrific tangles. But the trail was fast, the team was speedy and the sun was out. Hoping to head up to Fort Fraser tomorrow and do it again.

Oh, yes. Talked to the Certain Other Person awhile back. Everything's cool, which is pretty nice. Going to go make huckleberry flan now, and ignore my mom telling me to print documents off of the computer for her. 

Sounds like a good time

My computer just did a stupid sign-out thing, and I have to retype my post. So you had better appreciate this one! Kidding. But not really. Anyway...yes. It's my last day in Vic! And I am excited to go home, but also not really excited. I thought I would be full of Grand Plans, but instead just feel super exhausted. Here's a tip for making excellent hot chocolate: add 2/3 of the amount of mix you would normally add to your cup and throw in a spoonful of flavoured instant coffee mix. Milk, hot water, and you have a cup of pure deliciousness. Orange Cappuccino: mm-mmm. Right now, I am wrapping a box of Doggie Fortune Cookies to give to my landlady for Christmas. They come in one of those white paper Chinese take-out containers, and the cashier in the store almost didn't ring it through the till because she thought it was my lunch.


The cartoon at the top of the page is from the fantastic Natalie Dee. www.nataliedee.com. Check 'er out.


Here is a good song by The Dandy Warhols (hah!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTcihBUWIVA

I miss my best friend, cheap cigars, stupid kids and movie stars

Not really. But the song lyrics are catchy.

Ugh. Feeling achy and tired. And I wish I could say that it was because I was up late studying and, um, also got a lot of exercise or something, but sadly this is not the case. I was feeling so low after the exam that I struck out for SL's place with a sandwich and some dark beer. And later smashed a teapot. But I got them a new one anyway.


So I have been wondering; what happens when you are in the middle of doing something and you know that it's a bad idea. Like, an unequivocally bad idea, and you know it, and you know that a) either you'll pay for it later, or b) you'll feel terrible about it. But you keep on doing it anyway. What makes a person act like that? "Hmmm, this is an activity that will either hurt me or a loved one, for sure. Has a certain dangerous element involved as well. I'll go for it!" And it works in the other direction, too. The apathetic, procrastination extraordinaire direction. 


That was a little deeper than I had intended. But it's worrisome. And I do this all the time. And it gets me into huge amounts of trouble and bad situations. 


Argargargargargh.


Precalc exam Friday evening. Math is stupid.

This painting kind of reminds me of the pictographs back home

which is where I will be in T-2.5 days. Currently at SL's house, feeling chilly and not studying for cell bio. The Big Exam is at 7 pm tonight. I am not confident about my chances.


Ran into EA on the bus. She was with her buddy Matt, and it was a little awkward. Matt and I have been in the same class all year and only spoken to each other a handful of times. He is one of those super-brilliant, pre-med kids who aces every exam and quiz thrown at him. I talked about switching into a History degree and could almost smell his contempt. Well, whatever. I'm really looking forward to my new class schedule, and I wish Matt luck with dissecting his cadavers.


That reminds me of an excellent book, by the way. Bloodletting and Other Miraculous Cures. Oh, and thanks for the collection of Thoreau's journals, Emma. I'm really enjoying it.


Life would be better if I could just be happy for people instead of feeling jealous or bitter. That is something to work on.  

And the air poured into her lungs like soup

30 some pages of textbook notes later, and this cell biology stuff still does not make any sense. Hmpf. Oh, well. Everything is over on Friday, and then I can spend two full weeks in the northern interior of the province, sleeping and hiding from questions about school and curling up in front of the woodstove. And let's not forget being able to step outside without immediately being soaked. At this point, I'm pretty sure my skin is comprised more of mildew than epithelial cells.There are definite advantages to this climate, though; you can keep running all year round, snow tires are more of a luxury than a necessity, and a massive arsenal of cold weather gear never threatens to engulf your foyer. Mind you, everything is damp. And that's a major downfall.


Did some Christmas shopping yesterday and bought SL, MS, WS and TB an awsome teapot. The lid to the teapot they currently use is missing, and they have gotten by with using the top of an old juice can. I have gotten sick of burning my fingers on the hot metal each time I make tea, and therefore decided that it would probably be more practical to get a "house gift" anyway. I stuffed a stocking for SS and ER, including some deee-lishious smelling Creme Brulee coffee. It's enough to make me want to turn to caffeine. And with some milk and a little sugar: mm-mmm. Still have to pick up some beer for CT, though. This whole Christmas thing can be rough on a student budget. But I love it.


Oh, yes. Before I forget, the awsome picture comic strip at the top of the page is from, of course, A Softer World. If you have not heard of or seen this website, check it out. Like, now. They are fabulous. Here, I'll even give you the website address: www.asofterworld.com. There, now you have no excuse. Do It.


Just dropped an entire box of thumbtacks on the floor. Oh dear.

Finals Suck

And all I got was a brand new sports car

Meet Robert. Continuing on in the spirit of last night's post, I present, for your viewing pleasure, what I think would probably be the largest rabbit in the world. Robert lived in Germany and weighed in at a whopping 23lbs. His owner, a man named Karl, still breeds rabbits and refers to these here monsters as German Greys. Robert was apparently sent to North Korea as part of a breeding program, but instead of living a happy bunny life and producing many furry-footed little Roberts, he was likely eaten at a birthday party for Kim Jong-il. I have no idea of the validity of these facts, as I pulled them all off of the Internet, but I find the story of Robert to be both comic and fascinating. Never mind Roger Rabbit; I'll take ROBERT Rabbit any day! And what was up with that long-legged redheaded chick Roger always hung out with, anyway? Her dress was far too low-cut for her to ever be satisfied with a bunny wearing suspenders.


KO informed all of us today that there had been several car bombings in Switzerland linked to the Taliban and the country's involvement in Afghanistan. After he recieved several confused looks, someone pulled up the story on a computer and it was revealed that the bombings had taken place in Stockholm, Sweden, and not in neutral Switzerland. At which K exclaimed that they were basically the same country anyway. I shot him a disapproving look, even though my own knowledge of geography is appalling. Still, he is a surgeon. I can't excuse that level of obtuse-ness from a guy who deals with narcotics every day and can memorize the latin names of all the bones in the leg.


The socks I am wearing right now are awsome. Tempted to head back to Naniamo just to buy some more.   

Chipmunks should never sing christmas carols

So what are we up to today?
Honestly, I just finished writing an exam that did not go so well, and am now curled under the covers eating popcorn spiced with garlic and roasted red pepper and reading a book that features pigeons who carry spirits of the dead on their backs. I think that fantasy novels should never be reserved for people of a specific age. If you want to read Harry Potter and are a 42-year old banking executive or millwright, I think you should go for it. You've earned it. And let's face it; Harry has some damn good adventures.

Today has been a quiet day. My bunny is curled in the crook of my arm, nose twitching once in awhile and keeping a sharp eye out for any cats that may come sniffing around. One of the four cats that live here scared the bejeezes out of her yesterday by swatting at her under the door and very nearly shaving some of those whiskers off. She ran under the desk and began thumping her back foot on the hardwood floor, like rabbits do to warn other bunnies who may happen to be in the vicinity of a possible danger. The rabbit is a plump black little creature, about 4.5-5lbs, with a white nose and a streak of white on her forehead. I captured her off the campus grounds with a butterfly net. She does not have a name.

I have a night of studying ahead, which makes me sad. A friend of mine seems to have snapped out of the funk she's been in for the past month or so and got in touch today. She sounds like her old self, which makes me very happy. There is one Certain Other Person whom I have no idea where I stand with. Should I talk to him? I think I'll give it a week. Exams will be nearly over and I won't be so distracted. But it still sucks.
 
There is going to be a big get-together downtown tonight, and a lot of people that I love are going. I will, however, stay here and immerse myself in the wonders of the cell membrane and listen to Kanye West and some Tchaikovsky. And eat trail mix.

The bunny just vigorously butted my computer with her head and is chewing a hole in my jeans. I'm fairly certain that's rabbit talk for, "I'd appreciate some sunflower seeds, please. Now."


Tomorrow will be a better day, I think.