three generations of fun

I just got back to mtl about two hours ago from toronto. This may sound odd, considering it's only toronto, but I had the most wonderful weekend. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

My aunt and great aunt live in Toronto and have been living there since I was a little girl. I decided to take the last weekend of my "reading" week to visit them and get away from all the stress that's been plaguing me (and all the crap waiting to pounce on me within the next 3 days) My aunt Laura picked me up from the airport on Friday morning and we grabbed some sushi. (the only reason I flew was because my mother had west jet points and got me there for free, plus my car's a lease, I can't exactly rack up the kilometers). After sushi we went to my great aunt Rosanna's house, where I spent the weekend. We decided to that it easy the first night and watched cooking shows and sang karaoke from her television. We put on quite a show!

On saturday, I woke up to a wonderful eggs and bacon breakfast. Auntie Laura picked me up from Auntie Rosanna's and took me shopping. I found the most adorable (yet slightly pricey store) and splurged a little. I bought the most amazing silk skirt (very Dita) and nautical looking shorts. We spent the day laughing and bonding and returned to Rosanna's for a delicious pasta and shrimp sauce and watched Vicky Christina Barcelona (such a fantastic movie! Penelope Cruz completely earned that Oscar!) Laura left and I stayed up watching SNL. 

This morning I woke up bright and early and Rosanna, Laura and I went to the most amazing Antique store I've ever seen. Not only was it HUGE but the prices were so reasonable. I bought an oval silver ring with inlaid bone and a skinny ivory bangle. I also found Abbey Road on Vinyl and almost died at how cheap it was and in what amazing condition it was in so I obviously purchased that as well. We had a quick lunch and then I was driven to the airport and here I am back in Montreal.

Only now have I realized how trivial this post is, but at the same time, I am filled with such a sense of love and happiness I felt I had to share it. I rarely get to see my aunts and when I do, I am showered with affection. They are loud, and eccentric and funky in the most awesome way. I only wish they lived here because I would be with them as much as I possibly could. I have such a wonderful appreciation for my family, not that I didn't before, but after this weekend I just feel so blessed to have people in my life who bring me such joy, and i feel lucky to call them my family.

Ch-Ch-Changes.

After having lunch this week with an old friend (jav <3)>

Things were tough when I was 18 but life was good. I was coping with my father's death and the laughable concept cegep, but I was loving life. Each and every pay check was devoted to concert tickets, cds and beer. Going to Cafe L'Inco and Foufs were staples in my life, and following the most obscure yet fantastic bands was friggin' awesome. On my way home from my boyfriend's grandmother's we were singing along to Protest The Hero, and a sudden wave of nostalgia hit me. The summer I was 18, although it was only 2 and a half years ago, feels like a lifetime away. I had just met my boyfriend, and we began a friendship, unbeknownst to us, would turn into a love so great I will never forget it. I went to Foufs every Thursday and exercised my womanly right to free beer. I had jet black hair, and yes, I dressed like a bit of an idiot, but care, I did not! I was constantly meeting new people and expanding my social circle, but never forgetting those closest to my heart.

BUT this wave of nostalgia was accompanied by a crippling realization: I'm growing up, and I don't like it. I am no longer in cegep, I am in university. This directly translates to: NO SOCIAL LIFE. Not only do I not have much time for outings, but I lack the cash. Money is a constant thought on my mind, and so is the future, which like most people, petrifies me. I don't want to decide my career path, and have people constantly asking me whether or not Ryan is "THE ONE". Plainly said, I want to make an ass out of myself and have fun. I know I'm only 20, and I know I'm still young, but things are changing, whether I want them to or not. In any case, this ranting and raving (which is starting to resemble lyrics to a blink 182 song) will not continue to bore you. It just needed to be addressed.

WAKE UP BITCHES, THIS IS REAL LIFE!

HELLO MOTIVATION; where have you been hiding?!

C average is UNACCEPTABLE! 

(I used yellow to highlight the importance of its unacceptable-ness.)

In my creative process class, the teacher returned our first assignment. We were told to interview someone creative, and to ask them questions regarding (you guessed it) their creative process. Had this been the only guideline for the assignment, I would have had no problem. But, since my teacher (being THE MOST VAGUE man on the planet) only specified that we should interview someone 'famous' (i.e. the person should have something published or showcased) but he did not specify an exact length of each answer and suggested anything less than ten questions would be too little. Therefore, I, who does not have the time to hunt down and interview said 'famous' artistic being, I decided to ask my bf's aunt, who is a phenomenal painter, to be my subject. Although she is a stay at home mother, she is a mother of four (11 being the oldest of her four children) she is busy, as am I, so I emailed her my TWELVE questions (two above the suggested number n'est ce pas?) My teacher stated on my paper that only 8 of the 12 questions were to his liking and did not reflect questions pertaining to her creative process (I quickly pointed out that one of the questions he considered unsatisfactory had the words CREATIVE PROCESS in the question. I digress) He also felt that certain answers could have been, and I quote, "probed more". I explained that the interview was done by email and that she is a busy woman. He agreed that only 1 of the 4 questions he accused to be "non-creative process related" was in fact so and raised my mark by 2 points, still leaving me in the C grade bracket. Needless to say I was pissed.

The second mark I received today was also a C. It was the mark for my first test in my Social Deviance course, which I love. I have absolutely no argument concerning this mark. I put off the readings (I read the third chapter the day of the test) and studied for only about two days. I completely deserve the mark I received and it is mostly through this grade that my motivation (or lack thereof) has had a fire lit under it and I am determined to be more focused this semester. Last semester was my first and I was extremely pleased with my marks and my GPA, so if I have a solid foundation, there is no reason why I should break it down. I should take this foundation and build on it, becoming a more responsible and dedicated student.

Tomorrow is my day off and I will be spending the day downtown (probably at Cafe Myriade) being a busy, busy bee! My mid term for Post 1600 British Literature is due on Wednesday and it must be gooooodddd folks. 

On an unrelated note, I am seeing a friend for lunch whom I have not seen in ages. I could not be more excited to spend the only break I am allotting myself, with him. Mucho laughs and catching up will be had.

I'm off to studyland!

Stay fresh y'all.

It was a sign...

I first heard about this website when I stumbled upon Chrissy D's facebook status. (2nd name drop in 2 posts lol) In any case, the more I read her posts, the more I wanted to release my creative energy as well, no matter how mundane or trivial. The post on Chrissy's wall that struck me the most was when she wrote of her grandmother's passing. I quickly offered her my condolences and told her she would be in my prayers. I then began reflecting over the biggest loss in my life. Something occurred this evening, a sign that I've been waiting for, for many years. In order to understand the sign, I must back track 3 years.

It was the summer of 2005, I had just graduated high school and was extremely excited to begin a new chapter in my life. Although I was unsure about studying Law and Society at Vanier, my father's faith in me (and lifelong dream of me becoming a lawyer) kept me in high spirits. It was not until August 11, did all my excitement, hope and innocence shatter with one phone call. My father had been killed. It is not a word I enjoy using, and it is not a situation that I always feel comfortable divulging to others, but it is through the knowledge and experience that I have gained throughout these past 3 years, I have learned to not let his past define who I am.  I loved my father dearly, but for many reasons, we were at odds with each other for many years. His lack of presence throughout my childhood left an indelible mark. 

As he began to rebuild his life into an incredibly respectable man, my parents decided to separate. My father acquired a "significant" other in a very short period of time and this caused the rift in our already shaky relationship to grow deeper. It was not until the summer of his passing did I begin to learn about the kind of person my father was. Although it felt odd to have to be with him on "dads weekend" and stay at "dads house" rather than OUR home, I enjoyed every minute we spent together. I finally started a relationship with him that was not based on money and shopping dates to make up for the time he wasn't around. We cooked together and did activities together and had deep conversations together. But we never spoke about the past.

If there is one thing I will ever regret, it would be that. Never having let him know the pain he put me through is something I will never have the chance to do. I'm positive he knew, but to have heard it in words, and not assumptions is a luxury I'll never have. I never had the courage to do it and most of all I never had the chance to tell him that I forgave him. He died thinking I still resented him and that hurts me everyday. But, I have been strong, much stronger than I ever believed myself to be and this evening I'm positive I experienced one of the most spiritual things I ever have.

As a child, I was always an attention seeker and loved singing for others. As I grew up, I developed a pretty good singing voice which my father loved. He came to all of my high school talent shows and constantly asked me to sing for him. Ever since his passing, whenever I sing in my car, a part of me feels as though he's listening. (In order for you to understand the story, I must also explain a small problem my car experienced a few months ago) A small glitch in my car lighting system occurred. The small light on my dashboard constantly lit up expressing that all the doors had not been shut properly. After months of closing and re-closing every door (and my trunk) I decided to change the ceiling light to the off setting rather than having it stay on constantly every time I climbed into my car. This evening as I was driving home from a friends house, my ipod shuffle setting rendered it to "Gardernia" by Mandy Moore, which I love singing along to. As the song came to an end, I approached a red light. As soon as I was completely stopped, the ceiling light of my car slowly lit up to an extreme brightness and then slowly dimmed shut. This may have been some weird car glitch I am unaware of, but the timing and the circumstances led me to believe he was right there with me. Needless to say, I started to cry immediately and told my mother the story, which she completely believed. I'm not one for believing in signs, but tonight, I am 100% sure my father was with me. I wish I could feel the way I felt tonight, everyday.

I miss you so much daddy.

Unmotivated.

I haven't been feeling much like myself this week, especially this weekend. I'm not sure why, but i'm hoping its just due to pms (sorry if that's too much info, I sound like christina d now lol) anywho, I felt some surge of motivation when I wrote my last post (what with my lists and all) but to be honest I got almost nothing done. My test is tomorrow and I am barely prepared.

Things kind of suck right now. 

Just wanted to say...

P.s I found this and it made me feel a tad better

Post-its make life more fun.

My first test is on monday. 

Sociology of deviance. The concept of the class is quite awesome actually. The learning material is pretty interesting, and we only have to take 3 tests. No mid-term, no final. The 2 best marks out of 3 are taken and BOOM! There's your mark. Personally, all classes should be this way. It would relieve the added stress of those dreadful words: MID-TERM and FINAL!

I woke up this morning and told myself: "At 12, I will begin studying." As i opened my cupboard (only to find that my brother finished the Alpha Bits, and I finished my vanilla shreddies, my only option left was rice crispies) I sprinkled some Quik on top and went back to my room. As I flipped through the channels to find something interesting to watch, I found Practical Magic, which was my favorite movie as a kid. Obviously, I watched it from beginning to end. And now, here I am. Blogging, and not studying, which according to my class is a deviant behavior. 

My study habits are quite good actually. As I review my chapters, I write all the important points on post-its and place them above my bed in a categorized manner. This not only helps me study better, but if ever I want to brush up on the objectivist theories on deviant behavior (i.e. statistical rarity, harm, negative societal reaction, and most importantly, normative violation) I can simply walk over to my bed and read the properly marked post-it. I tried this method last semester for my Pre 1600 British Literature final, wherein I had to memorize 50 definitions, supported by 5 examples per definition. This was the outcome:

Each pink post-it marked the category (i.e genre, people, concepts etc) and each yellow post-it marked the definition with the 5 supporting examples. (p.s its backwards, cuz i took the picture with my PhotoBooth so the computer had to face the wall). In any case, I began my post-it strategy for this class on Thursday and have yet to continue it. This test covers chapters 1-3. I have yet to read the third chapter and am 2 post-its shy of completing the first chapter upon my wall. List of things to do today and tommorow and a little bit for monday:

TODAY:

- finish post-its for chapter 1 and 2

- read chapter three

- catch up on post 1600 british literature readings

- make something yummy for lunch with the serious lack of food in the house. be creative.

TONIGHT:

- decide whether or not to eat dinner at home with mommy or at apartment with bf.

- go to bf's apartment.

- go to brutopia tonight for alex's birthday and get ma drink on.

- decide whether or not to sleep at bf's apartment.

TOMORROW:

- do post-its for chapter three

- go over post-its for chapters 1 through 3 again. memorize!

- begin making valentine's gift for bf

- catch up on sociology of cyberspace readings.

MONDAY:

- potentially skip first two classes to cram for socio test.

- refuse to accept a failing mark :)

I have now set a goal for the next few days, it is important that I keep up with these goals and realize it is now 2 hours past the time i decided to begin studying. I am now officially beginning study/post-it time. Wish me luck!

New template and commitment issues.

It seems I have a problem with commitment, not in the traditional, relationship sense. In the 'everything in my life' sense.

I have been a TERRIBLE blogger and have lacked in the writing department for quite some time now. Every time a sudden rush of bloggery hits me, I am without computer or time, which blows. Also, its been slightly disconcerting that no one really reads my blog. And if people do, I don't really know it because no one comments on my stuff. But that's really besides the point. I want to be more committed to this blog and to other things in my life as well.

School deserves WAY more commitment than it has been given. I need to study more and catch up on the cluster-fuck of readings I have piling up every monday and wednesday. On the bright side though, I have been going to the gym at the end of each scholastic day (i.e every monday and wednesday at 4) and I'm feeling quite proud of myself.

On a way shittier note, I frequented the local bronzage (by local I mean I live in ville st-laurent and I drive to st-dorthee in order to bronze myself for $6, any amount of minutes) and being italian and dark skinned, I thought ten minutes would be safe. Also, I've been to this particular salon many, many times, but have not been in a span of approximately 5 months. I left Saturday morning feeling warm and tan. A slight redness occurred on my chest but this is very typical and I thought nothing of it. As the day progressed, the area became increasingly sensitive and began to hurt. The redness got worse, along with the sensitivity of the area. I finally decided to go to the clinic on Monday during my break and alas, I have a first degree burn on my chest from a bronzage machine! I am completely baffled. Today is day 1 of 7 for doctor prescribed cream application. The cream kinda smells and I am unhappy, yay skin cancer :)

On a final note, I began browsing google for pictures of Ms. Dita Von Teese last evening and I have come to a conclusion. I am absolutely in love with this woman. She is everything a woman should be and more. Not only does she represent a time period wherein I believe I should have been born, she screams glamor with every photo shoot and outfit. She is my idol, she is the most beautiful woman in the world. I aspire to double her fashion sense by this summer :)