The clever, clever girl

*After seven months, I realized that I have a laptop. Hello watching that 70s show, typing blogs and essays and MSN chatting without even having to get out of bed! Student life rocks.

*Today I made the second real meal I have cooked in seven months. What made it real? I used more than one pot and cut up vegetables and had spices. I rock. Maybe fourth meal, if you count when I had friends over and made the sauce...

*The water here is killing my skin and hair. Like, my hair is all broken and dry and gross and my skin hurts (yes.). So what do I do? Drink it!

*I need to pay more attention to the news. I fear this potential liquidation a great deal. I don't worry about my lifestyle changes, I know how ridiculously lucky I am. I worry about someone very close to me losing everything he's been working for. Oh dear.

On a frustrated note:
In theatre performance we had to create characters from newspaper photos. I got a real vibe from the woman in mine. She became a 39 year old lesbian living with her partner Kelly. She's a hairdresser, who was once married to a man. She lives in Toronto, near her family. She has a niece and nephew who she adores. She likes soap operas and staying in. Her partner likes to go out more often, but sometimes she loves to get dressed up. I had it all figured out. I did a good job in the "hot seat" evaluation.

I go out into the hall, and a guy who is my friend (or who I thought was my friend) goes "there's the little lesbian". That's all he got. Out of the days I spent figuring out an entire person. Now, being the gracious, polite person I am, I gave him the finger (whoops, the overuse of the finger with my friends from small town can be quite insulting to the people who don't understand that it just means "pffft".) It really bugged me. That's all.

Random Thoughts from an Exhausted Girl

You have not lived until you have been sitting in an Irish pub listening to a jazz pianist playing Hey Ya. Surreal.

Before I die, I want to meet a shepherd. Are there shepherds anymore?

Insurance companies will never ever be my friend. I hope that someone sticks their toothbrushes in a toilet.

Down With Love is possibly the worse movie ever made, but I have now sat through it twice. I'm a big stupid dummy.

I can't decide whether I have fun on my own. I know I do, but the whole time I'm wondering if I should be doing something more exciting than reading, cutting up oranges, working on business plans and dancing in my pjs.

Download Rusted Root.

I love everyone. Peace.

Breaking News!

Max was in an Olsen Twins movie.

I just ate an entire box of Ritz crackers in four hours.

Tomorrow I am going to a piano bar.

I screwed up the relationship I just fixed. I care... but I shouldn't. Because I am above this bullshit. Then again, it's not my fault.

This grant application is making me really crazy.

I can count the number of days left in this semester on my hands and a foot.

I will miss school over the summer.

I have two Easter egg hunts planned. THAT makes me happy.

I sit at my desk to write essays, and get to talk to people on MSN at the same time. I love it. And hate it at the same time.

My relationship with Samuel Beckett has come to an end. He is not invited to my birthday party. Which, by the way, is during camping weekend!

I like little baby ducks. Purple pick up trucks. And Easter is coming.

Max was in an Olsen Twins movie.

Three more weeks until I get to enjoy this city without schoolwork!

If I get this grant, I get to spend time "working" before the camp, which means writing plays and reading Robert Munsch books.

Max was in an Olsen Twins movie.

My kick-bum weekend

My weekend was a success because:

-I have almost gotten myself my own "company". This summer, hopefully, I will be employing myself and actually doing something with the education I've been getting. Much better than working at the mall. Ew.

-I ate a big dessert at a restaurant with crayons.

-SOMEONE WAS DINKED!!!! Well, I was really scared at first and chickened out, but I feel better now that my girls did it for me.

-A park was vandalised with washable paint, all with positive messages.

-I saw a funny musical, and got the giggles right in the front row.

-We had homemade macaroni and cheese and brownies worthy of Martha Stewart.

-I crashed my first party. Well, kind of.

-I learned to play poker.

I'm very happy that I have fun in the two places I call home. I'm very happy that I have lots of fabulous friends. I'm very happy that the awkwardness is gone (well, we'll see). I'm very happy that I am lucky enough to be able to travel back and forth to these two wonderful cities.

The pineapple incident

I spent a long time looking at myself in the mirror today. Partly because I was wearing my lovely new vintage dress. Partly because I can't comprehend how everyone is so wrong at guessing my age. I don't see it. I have really big eyes, and I think that makes me look youngish, if not young.

At my first job, while training, a man guessed my age to the other girl working. He guessed 26. I had just turned sixteen. Everyone at University is guessing me older, and some think I lie about my age (???). I was intrigued by the guy I had worked intensely with for the last two weeks (and also been a moron in front of) thinking I was the oldest in the group when I was the youngest. Five years younger than he guessed.

I don't get it. I guess I can't see myself objectively, and I feel YOUNG. Like, four years old young. I don't act old. I act like a doofus. Sometimes I am flattered, sometimes I am disappointed. If I can look up to ten years older than I am as a teenager... what will I look like at 35???

This guy and I were clicking. But he thought I was different than I am. Age does change things. (Not P, we're still friends). It's disappointing.

Another great TDEV class

(This entry is just to remind me of my wonderful class today. You will probably be bored reading it, so don't bother)

Today in class:

-There was a guy in a diaper, a guy in his boxers and a tie, a girl wearing a two piece dress made of garbage, a warm up involving all the kitchen implements, a girl painted blue wearing pasties...
- Three of us poured chocolate sauce all over our hands, painted the floor with it, and went around the class giving high fives.
-We rearranged the word BOMB into a Fluxus piece and got to jump around saying things like "MBBO".
-We got to do street theatre and performance art. And it was provoking.

The theme was love, and we did a performance piece about the commericialism, "buy love" ideas. It was good. I ended up with marshmallows and brownies in my mouth and the audience was left uncomfortable, and there was a great discussion about the use of humour in portraying an important message.

There were people who did street theatre, and went out with a video camera and a bird puppet and married people.

There were people who spread love and songs with big cardboard hearts.

I LOVE this class, I love theatre touching other people, I love people, I love spreading joy and thought.

I love the feeling of having done a good job.

Why today kicked serious, serious bum

-The group presentation we have worked maniacally on for weeks (and has taken up all of my time and energy for the last four days AND got us all sick) was finally presented. And was damn good. Everyone loved it, and us first years (in a fourth year course) got some major respect. And As. I hope.
-An Enrique Iglesias CD arrived in the mail for me... AWESOME.
-To celebrate this "finally we can move onto our other class work" moment, we had a MAJOR trip to Value Village where I cleaned up.
-We then had a party. Where I tried many new and exciting beverages, learned a French drinking song, had some killer chats, ate too much chocolate, talked en francais.
"That dress will make you look younger, Meghan..."
"Younger?"
"You know, like 18..."
"How old am I?"
"I don't know."
"Guess."
"23? No? 24..."
"I'm eighteen."
"I thought you were the oldest in our group!"
This exchange went on to me being made fun of severely for me being an old fogey. And somehow, my boobs came up. They come up here as much as they do back home too. Gaaaaaah.

I had such a great day.

A thought

If I ever have a baby (for some reason) I want to make it left handed. I'd be such a cruel mom.

Adventures of a small-town girl in a big city

In the last two days...

First: I was a witness to the most disgusting PDA of all time, pretty much. Sitting on the metro, on the single seat, which leaves my side facing two seats. On which sat a couple. Who really really really liked each other. A lot. Every three seconds there was a kiss. Not just a peck. A full out, lip-smacking, I have to put my hand on the back of your head to ram your tongue further down my throat kiss. So I kind of turned my head to face the other end of the car. And all I could hear was lip smacking, smack, smack, smack until I realized that they were close enough for me to punch in the face. The girl accidentally bites off the boys tongue. No more PDA for them!

No, I sat there feeling really uncomfortable until they got off the metro. Ew.

Second: I was a witness to the SECOND worst display of PDA ever. But it would actually receive more demerit points, if I could be the PDA police, because of location. In a theatre. Not the movie theatre, oh no. A live theatre. In the FRONT ROW. Directly in front of me, of course. The girl spent the whole show trying to maintain physical contact with the boy. His arm had to be around her, or they had to be holding hands, or her head had to be on his shoulder. She watched his reaction to all the funnier bits, I don't think she saw the show. They whispered to each other, and kissed each other, and she chewed his fingers. I threw up all over their hair, then told them it was their own fault, and maybe if they really needed to kiss during the play, they could at least leave, or go to the backrow or something.

But really, I sat there and felt nauseous, and complained to S during the intermissions.

Third: I saw a big fight on the metro. It was scary. Then they all got out and continued to fight at my stop. So I had to wait until the next stop. I won't even pretend that I did anything.

Sometimes big cities sicken me.

We do not stop playing because we are old, we grow old because we stop playing

In my TDEV class we each have to facilitate a workshop. This week we had the avant garde workshop. It began with half the room just covered in props and random stuff. There was fabric and feathers and hats and instruments and string and a big roll of caution tape and sunglasses and umbrellas, etc. Our instructions? "Okay guys. Go crazy."

So we played. A roomful of 18-26 year olds put on crazy music, danced around and just played. It was incredible and fantastic. There were no inhibitions, we just fooled around and laughed and it was like being four years old again. You forget how great that is. I haven't had such a good time in... a long time. There were people being pulled around on rollerskates by a piece of yarn. I was belted to another person and we walked around with kazoos and bells. There were people playing catch, there were people wearing party hats and singing. Why did we stop doing this?

Lots of people think it's stupid, taking drama and theatre. People don't see the good in doing exercises and playing. But I am learning so much about LIFE. About what living is about for me and about how I must live to be happy. I am having a great time. I may not be preparing for a great, sucessful career. I may not make gazillions of dollars, or have a stable financial life at all. But I am going to understand what makes people tick, what keeps people interesting and lively, and what is really important. And in my opinion, it is doing something you love and that is good for you. Playing. I learn from acting like I'm four. I think we get stupider as we grow up. Growing up scares me. I don't want more and more responsibility. I want to wear stupid sunglasses and sing and dance and just create.

We also learned about "happenings" in the 60s and 70s. Someone would organize a happening, you'd hear there was a happening at such and such a place here and this time. You show up and you find something like a pool full of jello. And something will happen, of course (hence, happening). Why am I not a child of the 60s? Who doesn't want to be offered a pool full of jello and just play? Who doesn't want to just go somewhere, and have something happen?

We also put together the Jabberwocky poem (if you don't know it, you should read it, it's AWESOME poetry from Alice Through the Looking Glass). Don't tell me you can be in a room with the Jubjub bird, a tum tum tree, and bandersnatch and the jabberwocky without feeling somewhat magical. That is what life is about for me. Moments like that.

I am physically exhausted. I am worn, from long days and too much work. I am sad that I don't know when my next chance to PLAY will be. But it was awesome.

In other news

Today I played a human sacrifice to a bear puppet named Jeffrey. Speaking only in gibberish. And got credits. That was after my back massage.

Oh, roommates...

I wake up at 2 am this morning to what sounds like a raucous game of pool. Now, of course we don't have a pool table in our little apartment. I'm very stupid when I wake up. But it was loud, and there were people over.

So I get up this morning, and walk to the kitchen. There is a guy sleeping on the pullout couch, and M has gone to class. So I'm alone in the apartment with a stranger pretending to sleep on the couch (I say pretending because I SAW his eyes open when I was going to the kitchen. Then I heard him on his cell when I was getting dressed in my room. But when I went to make breakfast, he was 'sleeping' again.).

I have to leave for class in half an hour, and I'm not too comfortable with leaving a stranger all alone. The dish water is starting to turn blue (???) and has lots of crap on the top. I am a little frustrated.

I LUST the apple

Theatre Performance Professor: Okay, I just want you to talk to each other for two minutes, just being yourself.

J: I don't want to be myself. I'm just going to tell you a story, okay?

Me: Sure.

J: Once there was a mouse. This mouse lived in a house and one day he got up and walked through some dry leaves, and saw a tunnel. He went through the tunnel, where he found some birds. They thought it would be fun to play chess, so they did. The mouse was really happy, because he won, then he went to the corner store and got a popsicle. He was a big mouse, like, a human size mouse. He wanted to take a shortcut, so he decided to jump over the fence. He could, because he was wearing his converse shoes.

This mouse was obsessive compulsive, he really liked to brush his teeth, he brushed them all the time, like seven times a day. He had a bunch of kids, he used to have a girlfriend but the kids didn't like her. They took her into a hall where a big cat killed her. So the mouse-

Me: ... will you be my best friend?