What would you do?

It's like serendipity that I didn't schedule a post for today and then was witness to some outrageous behavior and felt like blogging about it. I'm at work and actually have to start actually working in about three minutes so this is gonna have to be a quick one. Sorry if my syntax is crazy or anything.

So on some weekday mornings I catch a super early bus to downtown, go to a nice warm cozy coffee shop and study for my medical terminology class for a few hours before work. I really like it because I'm quite the morning person and have no distractions in the coffee shop. Until lately.

This big fat ugly gross man and an equally big fat gross ugly woman have started having pre-work coffee dates in MY coffee shop. And they always sit really near me.

The purpose of their coffee dates, from what I can ascertain, is to talk loudly and rudely about their co-workers. It's a super negative bitchfest. Every morning. Which, yeah whatever, maybe their workplace is terrible. But from being forced to overhear their conversations for days on end, I have discovered that the man is in some kind of power position in their company and is extremely horribly misogynistic.

The woman is sexist too. Against herself. If you know what I mean. She LOLs at all his terrible jokes and nods and agrees loudly. Yes, that secretary shouldn't have given him that look about all the paperwork, she sure does need a hot beef injection.

That's right, he said "hot beef injection" today. And she agreed.

In fact, he has basically threatened to rape his secretary multiple times over the conversations I've listened to. And the woman agrees. I can not believe my ears sometimes. Today I make a disgusted sound and turned around and got a real good look at the both of them, just in case I read something in the newspaper about a secretary being given a "protein injection". "A big one" that he has for her. That thing "she needs".

You get the point. I mean it's horrible. What can you do though? I want to ask them where they work and then write to the HR department on behalf of this poor woman, whoever she is.

Anyway I don't know where I'm going with this but OH MY GOD what would you do if you overheard conversations like that?

So yesterday was pretty rad!

I mean...the weather was crap. Frickin' monsoon-like rain and near zero temperatures, and wind. Oh the wind.It was c-c-c-cold out.And that's coming from someone who takes pride in being able to weather the...weather...you know what I mean.

But I was distracted...I was on my way to get my chest tattooed. I was more nervous than you can imagine. Like, more nervous than for any tattoo I have ever gotten before, really! I guess because everybody I have ever talked to about it has made crazy pain faces even at the mention of it, and so many people have said it was the most painful tattoo they've ever gotten.

In actuality, mostly because I was prepared for it, it wasn't so bad. It still hurt, don't get me wrong, but it was like, just another tattoo kind of hurt. Also? I took like three advil just before we started which probably had something to do with it. :)

I don't want to put pictures of the entire thing up here, because you know how people are with stealing crap from the internet, and it's not finished yet...I just feel really protective over it. And Colin hates the internet...I'd be so bummed if someone stole his hard work.  Here are a couple sort of semi-pictures of it with really fancy watermarks, haha.

They're not the best pictures but you can get the general idea of what it's going to be like anyway. On the other shoulder it meets up with my mummy/My Little Pony sleeve and goes kind of behind the mummy's head. Thanks a billion COLIN! I feel all proud, it's so pretty and he has been working like fourteen hour days every day for the past two weeks. It was so nice of him to fit me into his schedule.

---

After I left the tattoo shop, I went to the photo place and picked up some photos I dropped off a few days ago. I have finally figured out my lomography fisheye camera! This time the majority of my photos actually worked out, which is great news. Usually they're underexposed or my hand was covering the flash or something. This bunch of  photos totally ruled. Here's a preview:

Pretty good, right? I'm going to be posting more throughout the next month or two. 

 ---

And so I took the bus home wearing a ridiculous chest bandage...I put a couple pictures of it on my Tumblr here. Check it out for a laugh. I looked ridiculous in that v-neck sweater and a big blue thing taped to my chest. I went to the grocery store looking like that because getting tattooed turns me into a ravenous freak. A couple chocolate bars made it into my grocery basket...the cashier asked if I was going to eat both of them myself, and I smiled and told her "As soon as I get home" and she said

"You go girl."

Hahaha. Yes. I do go. I eat two chocolate bars whenever I want. Girl power!

When I got home I found mother effin' TOMS shoes waiting for me. They must have come in the mail while I was out. I tried them on and they fit like a glove. I know everyone on the internet keeps saying how great they are, but I'm going to add my voice to the chorus...AMAAAAAZING!

What a great day!

We went out on Saturday. The end of the night got kinda weird.

Ryan and I went to a dubstep show on Saturday. Yeah, you heard right. At least I think it was dubstep. I get totally lost every time someone starts talking musical subgenres. And I'll be honest, I went into the show with a super negative attitude; if there's not guitars, punching and yelling I'm usually not anywhere near live music. But Ryan really likes these guys, and he promised to buy me drinks so we went together.

I was pleasantly surprised. It's still not really my cup'o'tea but it wasn't terrible, and there were way less hippies than I was expecting. Here's some examples of the music...PK Sound did the sound, and if you don't know who they are then never mind, but they're like, the best sound guys in Canada. So imagine this music louder than any music you've ever heard live. It's kind of heavy and evil sounding.

This is Mark Instinct (who I actually thought was kind of cool):

 

This is Subvert (who I didn't care for, we left halfway through his set...just too dance-music-y):

Here's a picture of us watching Mark Instinct. We're way up on the balcony. There's a bar up there and a phenomenal view. But uh, it looks like I was more interested in talking to Ryan, haha. We stayed up there most of the night because everywhere else was completely packed with people dancing way too hard and/or slutty. I was scared. :)

We were offered MDMA like a thousand times at that show. I guess that's the cool thing to do these days? And I was all like "Hugs, not drugs." A local graffiti guy, PESTO, designed the stage, it's hard to tell from this photo but it's built out of a bunch of tree branches and in the back there were dancers?

Photo stolen from Charlotte Dobre's facebook pics. 

She is a fantastic photographer by the way! Check out her website HERE. 

She has the best job. Ever.

 

Here are some random conversations I overheard/was part of that night:

---

(Standing in line to go into the show, there were 20 year old boys behind us who kept somehow butting in front of us, one by one, and were talking over our heads.)

Boy 1: Remember that party at Jeff's house? And you had that Garbage Pail Kids jacket on? That was hilarious.

Boy 2: Garbage Pa...no, that wasn't me.

Boy 1: No, yeah. I'm pretty sure it was.

Boy 2: Listen, I'm pretty sure I'd remember having a Garbage Pail kids jacket.

Boy 1: Oh wait, no, it wasn't you. That was Ian (insert last name of guy I know here)

Me: LOL (Because of course he has a Garbage Pail Kids jacket, why wouldn't he?)

Boy 1: (To Ryan and I) Hey do you girls have a pen in your purse?

Me: (Glaring at him, because um, Ryan's a man and I didn't even have a damn purse.)

Ryan: Oh yeah, I think I saw one at the back of the line!

Boy 1: (Oblivious) Huh. Well thanks anyway.

---

(Outside, 2AM-ish, Ryan and I were just about to leave when we ran into our hilarious friend who was just on his way back in to find somebody. He wants to smoke a cigarette and we decide to stand with him and wait for a taxi to drive by. A kid in a t-shirt walks up to us.)

Kid: Why are you outside? Don't you like the music?

Ryan: Yeah man, but I don't like the direction Subvert is taking the music (technical words I don't understand).

Me: Not really.(I'm tired and kind of grouchy because 50 taxis are pulling up, looking at us and leaving.)

Kid: (Turns to me.) WHAT? YOU DON'T LIKE DUBSTEP? What do you like? Hakuna Matata?

Me: Hahaha. Yep. That's what I like. 

Kid: You guys have a light? 

Me: (Picking up a matchbook off the sidewalk with one match left in it.) Here ya go.

Kid: Thanks. 

Ryan: You only have ONE CHANCE!

Friend of ours: Yeah! Light it or you have to suck our dicks.

Me: (WTF look on my face)

Ryan: (Laughing) (He had a lot more to drink than I did)

Kid: Well....how about just his? (Gestures to Ryan.)

Me: You're considering it?

Kid: My girlfriend just had an abortion and we broke up.

Us all: (Tugging on our collars, Simpsons style, because suddenly he's not so funny.)

---

(In the taxi home)

Taxi driver: I'm just glad you guys are like, normal people for once.

Ryan: Yeah I bet you get drunk assholes all the time.

Taxi driver: Don't even get me started.

(We sit in silence for a minute.)

Taxi Driver: You wouldn't believe the week I've had.

Me: Oh, really?

Taxi driver: Yeah. Fucking crazy.

Me: Mmhm?

Taxi driver: Like, the worst week of my life.

Ryan: What happened?

Taxi driver: You don't even want to know.

(We sit in silence for a minute.)

Taxi driver: I really need to get this off my chest. Can I tell you guys something?

Ryan: Sure, man.

Me: Yeah, totally. What's up?

Taxi driver: My friend, well no, not my friend. This guy I know from a long time back...you know when it was snowing a few weeks ago? 

Me: Yeah.

Taxi driver: Well I found out he had nowhere to stay, he was on the streets, so I told him he could come stay with me. You know, do something nice for the guy.

Ryan: Mhm.

Taxi driver: So anyway he was just like, staying on my couch and then one day he was gone and the cops come to my door at like eight in the morning and it turns out he fucking murdered somebody and they had him in custody and they want me to come in for questioning. 

Me: Wait, what?

Taxi driver: And I mean, like he woke up one morning in my house, went out, fucking murdered somebody, came back and then I took him shopping at Walmart.

Ryan: Uh...

Taxi driver: It was like, he walked in just as I was leaving and I said "Hey I'm going to the store" and he was like "Can I come with you? I need to pick up a few things." And then we went shopping together just like everything was normal. How can I ever trust anybody ever again?

Me: Uh...holy shit.

Taxi driver: And now they want me to go to court at eight in the morning as like, a witness. I never get out of bed until like two in the afternoon, I'm gonna be all tired in court. Well, here we are, you guys have a good night. 

Me: Yeah. Good luck with that...murder...investigation...

---

Also? That murder happened in my neighborhood. Sweet.

Actual conversation I just had at the coffee shop:

(It's 8:30 in the morning.)
Me: (Just making conversation.) What time do you guys open?
Super Italian Coffee Shop Owner: Seven thirty. What time do you open?
Me: Eleven.
Italian guy: So what are you doing here?
Me: Well, somebody stole our mailbox and on Friday the mailman got mad at me so I thought I should get here before he does.
Italian guy: Why did he get mad at you?
Me: I think it wrecked his whole morning routine.
Italian guy: (in super thick Italian accent) Well I'm-a mad at him. He-a keeps-a bringing me bills.

Do you ever walk away from a conversation and think about how weird and funny it is?

And now I'm sitting here at the tattoo shop, hours early, with all the blinds drawn, even though it's still dark out so all the passers-by and looky-loos can look right in at me, so I can see when the mailman comes.

And I taped a sign where the mailbox used to be that says "I'm here, mailman." With a smiley face underneath.

Uh, yeah. This is my life. ?

worst day ever.

Yesterday was a bust. 

It was cold out when I left the house. Not like, "I'm gonna die" cold. More like "gosh my fingers hurt after thirty seconds outside of my sleeves" cold. 

I always compare the weather here with the weather in central Alberta, where I grew up. The temperature is never as extreme. But here's the thing I have to remember: when I lived in Alberta things were different. I had a completely different lifestyle. I never ever walked 2.3km to get anywhere. And here I do it twice a day between the bus stop and my house.I never waited outside for the bus either. I had a car. They plow the roads in Alberta. They don't here. People know how to do winter in Alberta. They don't here. 

-9 degrees Celsius is really tough here.

I should have just stayed home; called in 'snow day'. Instead, I psyched myself up (literally telling myself "You can do this."), put on layers upon layers of clothing, and went about my day as usual. I waited at the bus stop for 25 minutes out in the blustery cold, but hey, it's winter right? Suck it up, buttercup. It was fine.

I got to work...which was totally dead so I left after a few hours. Victoria is like a ghost town when it snows and yesterday was no exception. And it was really starting to come down out there.

The 12:00 bus was super late, and when it arrived at 12:35 around thirty people got on with me. The bus was completely full by the next stop. I'm talking double decker full, which hardly ever happens. It holds over a hundred and twenty people. 

And, long story short, my twenty minute bus ride took four hours. 

The traffic was so bad. 

SO BAD

I'm looking at various news reports right now, and they're saying stuff like "literally countless traffic accidents occurred" because "police stopped taking calls for minor fender benders", they barricaded a bunch of main streets for "snow related closures" throughout the city, and along my bus route "a dozen or more vehicles were involved in a chain reaction pile up".

It was such a mess. 

After a couple hours on the bus with a hundred people, you start to make friends. I was lucky, I got a seat upstairs. There were probably forty people packed like sardines in the stand-only area downstairs. ("Standees", the bus driver called them.) Some people had to pee. I was really hungry though. Some people had packed whole lunches and stuff. My seat neighbor was eating a roast beef sandwich so I didn't ask to share. But if it were veggie...maybe I would have.

I read about a hundred pages in my book, stared out the window, laughed along with others' jokes about a hundred car pile-up that wasn't even funny, texted people about where I was now, and played an entire game of Tetris on my phone. And we still weren't there! 

It really doesn't sound that bad on the outside but...have you ever taken a city bus for so long you've wondered what happens if it runs out of gas? Have you ever been in traffic that literally took half an hour to go two blocks? It was mentally exhausting. It's really hard to explain...I felt so trapped and there was nothing I could do because that was my only way home. And I really wanted to be at home.

Finally, after almost four hours we made it past...nothing. Just all of a sudden the traffic was normal. It was so weird. Ryan told me he read that it was the traffic lights in the city themselves, and the ultra slippery roads that was causing people to slide, not be able to get going for an entire traffic light's length of time, and then have to stop again right away. That, plus the mass exodus of people trying to get home early and all the little fender benders...ugh.

When we made it to my stop, I phoned Ryan right away and shouted into the phone "I'M FREE!" but then had to hang up in a hurry because it was FREEZING out and my hand was too cold to hold the phone. I walked home. The wind was so strong my hood wouldn't stay on my head and I had to hold my hat down too. I thought my chin was going to get frostbite, and for the first time in years I wished I had worn a scarf. 

When I burst into the door twenty minutes later I was so exhausted and hungry, and my hands were so cold that I couldn't unzip my boots. I literally sat on the floor and just started crying. 

Terrible stupid day. 

-----

Hey, my coffee's ready. And it's my day off. And all I have to do today is lay under blankets and watch movies with my cat. 

Things are lookin' up.

rediscovering the paper journal

There are things a person just shouldn't put on the internet. It's different for everybody. For some, fights with the significant other are excellent for driving their blog traffic up, for others it's a secret not even their best friend knows. Some people love calling out people at their place of work, airing their beefs with family and friends in front of the entire internet, and making harsh jokes at the expense of people they encounter in their daily lives.

Those people are brave. Because people have a way of stumbling upon things.

I'm pretty careful on this blog. It seems like the only victims of my writers-rage have been bus riders...and I do hope they have all found what I've said about them and learned that they are total idiots who should not be allowed out without a handler and sedatives.

When things happen that make me angry, I'm talking REALLY angry, or stressed out, like REALLY stressed out, I have to work it out. Usually Ryan makes a great sounding board. From reading Cosmo magazine as a girl I thought I'd never find someone who listens so well and speaks with such a clear head, but Ryan is the best. He'll play devil's advocate, he'll offer suggestions or he'll just listen and give me a hug once I shut up.

Sometimes though, somebody listening still isn't enough.

I'd love to blog all day long about stuff that happens, things that hurt my feelings or rude comments that I can't forget...but it's too personal. I'd also love to vent daily about how much EFFING BUREAUCRACY AND BULLSHIT is involved in paying back my student loans, and how very very very frustrated I am with the entire process. WHY DOESN'T THEIR WEBSITE EVER WORK? RAAH ... I'd love to say stuff about that every single day. And my financial woes...oh yeah! I'd love to bitch about that all the time!

I don't talk about these things for four reasons:

1) They're negative, and I'm really trying to focus on the happy side of the coin. (I'm going to CUBA in a few weeks! My brother is in town! My life is pretty awesome!)

2) They're boring for the reader. Have you ever read a blog that is like "omg I have so much homework." "Ah, bills, they're so hard to pay." It's just a reminder of all the same crap that's going on in my own life. Boring! The blogs I love the most are the happiest, prettiest and funniest ones. Would you buy a magazine full of headlines like "Car payments are expensive" and "my husband watches too much football"? I wouldn't!

3) They can jeopardize my real life relationships. This is the most important one. Have you ever found a blog that disses you? I thought I had once. It was one hurtful sentence that could have been directed at me, until I delved deep into the syntax and found that it was talking about someone with the same job in the same city as me, but in a different shop. But for a split second I was very upset. I don't want to make anybody feel that way except for the jerks on the bus who ruin my day. Because seriously. Yeah. I hate them.

4) I don't want to.

Lately, quite a few blogs I read have mentioned the whole "how much of my life do I show the reader?" conundrum. I'd like to think that people would show us the best parts of it; the happiest moments, the most interesting discoveries, the best photos, the funniest conversations...do your best. It's fun to give a little piece of yourself to the world via blogging...just don't give too much.

And this is where the journal comes in. Ahhh sweet paper journals, how I love thee.

Paper journals are the answer.

You can say whatever you want. And nobody will know. I love working things out on paper. I make lists, budgets, I say really mean things that sometimes get crossed out or torn up, I draw (really ugly) pictures of things, and sometimes just the act of putting that crap on paper can help make it seem more manageable.

Online journals can become messengers of hatred and spite if you're not careful. There's a fine balance between feeling good about what you write and saying what you want. How can a person be themselves on the internet? I don't believe they really can.

But, with the right attitude and a little self restraint, they can show bits and pieces of themselves. Here's what I've been telling myself lately to get out of my little attitude slump I've been having.

Do your best. 

Be thoughtful.

Be kind.

Don't worry, it'll all work out.

Take time for yourself.

Write in that damn journal, not on the internet. 

:)

I'm over here today!

Thanks again Danielle

for letting me be a part of your fantastic blog!

deer family

Yesterday morning I burst out the front door as usual: fiddling with my iPod, tugging my shirt down, still trying to get my shoe all the way on my foot, holding out a hand to feel if it really was raining or just another grey grey day. I always do this. I leave leaving to the very last second. Especially when Ryan's actually around in the morning. Usually I have to leave before he wakes up, or he's just getting home and falling straight into bed from his graveyard shift at the residential group home for disabled adults, exhausted.

Yesterday he was up and we were having coffee together. Probably holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. You know, regular boyfriend-girlfriend stuff.

So of course I was ... not late, exactly. Just...so close to being late that I had to speed-walk most of the way to the bus stop and hope I don't see it drive by when I'm like thirty steps away like it always seems to do.

I put my earbuds in my ears, and put the songs on shuffle. Please be something good, I thought. Sometimes I let the iPod give me the soundtrack to my day, I'm not allowed to change the song. It's a game where the music determines the mood of my day and creates my own personal music video.

Stevie Wonder. Yes!

Just then, I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye. I thought it was probably just the super annoying kid from across the street who goes through our recycling box (?) and "Plays" with his dog right outside our bedroom window every time Ryan is trying to sleep. (By 'plays' I mean 'holds a stick in the air and yells get it. Get it. Get it. and the dog barks and barks.' It's super awesome.)

I turned and looked, with my best glaring face on.

No, not the neighbor kid. Instead it was...A DEER FAMILY!
I froze. And then said "HOLY SHIT" out loud. That's how surprised I was. And scared.

No, wait. Not...scared. I'm not scared of deer. That's ridiculous. In fact, when I worked on the bee-farm they made me carry a whip to hit the deer who were eating the strawberries with and yeah, I might have whipped a deer or two. And chased them with quads. Which they are not afraid of for some reason. I practically ran one over one time. It was just like "WTF?" and looked at me like I was the crazy one. Which I was.

Anyway...I was...surprised. And so I shouted swearwords of surprise. And they were also like "WTF?" and just kinda stared at me.


And then I did the most rational thing ever. I took pictures of them while simultaneously phoning Ryan to tell him about the deer and how I was scare...no, SURPRISED by them.

In the meantime they moved on, because apparently deer are too cool to hang out with someone as cool and calm as I was.



Ryan was largely unimpressed with my phone call. He was laughing, and I'm pretty sure it was at me, not with me.

After the deer turned the corner back towards the woods behind our house, I kept walking. Stevie was over and it was Radiohead. The day turned greyer and the mood was melancholy beautiful. I mean, yeah...I saw deer after hands holding and coffee. And I was wearing the radical new hoodie Ryan bought for himself but then realized it was a woman's hoodie after he got it home and it just happened to fit me. And it's grey which is my favorite color to wear.
So yeah, it was a pretty alright kinda morning.

About half-way to the bus stop, my bag started vibrating. (That's what he said) The call display said 'call if found' which is code for 'my house', you know, in case I lose my telephone, right? SMRT.

I thought it was gonna be Ryan, but when I answered I got a... SURPRISE.

Me: Hello? (smiling)

Caller: (weird voice, kind of like bullwinkle the moose) Hello, is this Nova?

Me: (laugh) Yes.

Caller: Hello Nova, my name is mister deer.

Me: (double laugh) How'd you get this number?

Caller: I just phoned to tell you not to be scared of me and my family!

Me: (laugh more) Oh! Thanks for calling.

Caller: You're welcome! I have to go now, but remember, don't be scared of me and my family!

Me: Okay! Thanks!

Caller: Bye. Don't be scared of us!

Me: I won't! Bye!

And I couldn't stop laughing to myself like a crazy person all the way to the bus stop. Hope nobody saw me!

But...how will I ever catch a husband?

Scene: bus stop. Of fucking course.

Me: (just hangin' out after a long day of working, not harming anybody, minding my own business, being awesome. The ususal.)

Random Guy: (Standing beside me, turned to face me sort of, obviously looking at my arm.)



Me: (Trying so hard to keep minding my own business)

Random Guy: (Talking to me, even though I'm turned away from him, body language = CLOSED FOR BUSINESS, listening to my iPod with those ubiquitous white earbuds.)

Me: (Sigh) Pardon me?

RG: Nice ink.

Me: Yeah. I know.

RG: Where'd you get that done? Here in town?

Me: Yeah. (Digs a Tattoo Zoo card out of my bag) Here, take a card.

RG: Mumble mumble full body suit?

Me: What? I'm working on it. (Laugh)

RG: But why the hell would you do that to yourself?

Me: (Puts mental boxing gloves on, because HELL NO) What do you mean?

RG: You know, it's never gonna come off.

Me: Yeah. I know. It's supposed to be like that.

RG: Is that even a real tattoo? (Still talking about my arm)

Me: Yes. (laughs)

RG: You're gonna have that for life, you know?

Me: Yeah.

RG: Why would you do that to yourself, kid?

Me: (WTF, this guy's like ten years older than me tops) Um...because I wanted to?

RG: Yeah well mumble mumble husband mumble mumble it's gonna be hard when you want to get married and get a family.

Me: No. You know what? (Stands up straight, looks him in his ignorant face) I have a family and we are doing just fine, actually.

RG: (Holds hands up in defensive posture) Woah woah woah no need to get angry.

Me: Yeah, well it's awful to be standing here, minding my own business and then some stranger comes up to me and starts saying things like that to me. It's very rude and it's hurtful.

RG: mumble mumble where'd you get that work done anyway? Here in town?

(At this time I realize he's totally drunk and it's useless to even waste my time, even though I had this full speech coming to me about how I was just at my full time job and I have a degree from a University now and what was he doing being drunk in the middle of the day on like a Monday anyway and who is he to judge me...etcetera.)

My bus came.

Me: That's my bus. (walks away with semi-threatening gesture, hoping he takes it as a warning for next time.)

RG: Yeah. (shouts after me) Good luck with all that ink.

Seriously guys. Yeah. I was so sad about it that on the bus I text-messaged my (female, tattooed) boss: D-bag @ the bus stop just basically asked me how i expect to get a man and have a family with all these tattoos.

Her reply?

Awwww fuck that guy in the neck. Did you ask him why he is so mean? Ask him if he's mad at his mom so he had to be mean to other women to compensate for his pencil dick. My standard response to guys like that is to furrow my brow and ask "what's wrong with you? Are you handicap(sic)? Learn some manners." When that fails I tell them to go get fucked. Feel free to use at your leisure. :)

Hahaha thanks Sarah. But seriously guys. LEARN SOME FUCKING MANNERS. I can not believe the sense of entitlement people seem to have, thinking they can just go up to complete strangers and insult their appearance. Tattoos are pretty mean things to insult, as well, because you can't really change them. Keep it to yourself. And remember:



__________________

On a more positive note, CLICK HERE to read people's true life stories by Sarah Von. It's a very interesting (and on-going) project she's been working on for a while now. She basically interviews people with a-typical lifestyles, or who have had something crazy happen in their lives.
And especially check it out on November 29th, because that's when my interview will be up!!

Two moments from yesterday evening.

Scene: me, waiting at the bus stop, downtown Victoria. (as usual)
Mentally disabled man stands beside me, starts talking.

Me: (taking earbuds out of my ears) Pardon me?

Guy: What your name?

Me: Nova. What's your name?

Guy: Richard

Me: (nods)

Guy, AKA Richard: (extends hand out, as though we were going to shake)

Me: (Does the same to be polite.)

Richard: (Does crazy secret hand-shake kind of thing, complete with fist pounds and some kind of thumb thing with jazz fingers.)

Me: (Tries to keep up with crazy hand-shake.)

Richard: (Goes in for the hug)

Me: (Realizes he has a lot of dried ketchup on the corners of his mouth and on his white shirt.)

Richard: You're a nice lady.

Me: Thanks.

Richard: (Stands there staring for an awkwardly long time staring at me.)

Me: So...did you have a good day today?

Richard: Yeah. (Rolls eyes as though it was a totally lame question.)

Me: Me too.

Richard: What bus you on?

Me: The thirty*.

Richard: Me, twenty eight.

Me: Oh.

Richard: My bus is coming. (points)

Me: Oh, yeah, there it is. Cool.

Richard: See you later. (Even more elaborate hand-shake, followed by hug.)

Me: (Leaning way back, stiff one-arm hug, trying not to encourage any more physical contact) Yup, bye.

Richard: Cute glasses.

Me: Okay. Bye! (Note to self: Never wear glasses at the bus stop again.)

-----later, on my walk home-----

Seeing a bunch of 'free stuff' left over from a garage sale, including books, I wander over to some guy's yard. He's kneeling on the curb, scrubbing it with an old shirt.

"I left a few cans of paint out here and look what they did."

I look...yep, definitely a mess. I wonder who "they" is.

"Hm, that sucks. Hey, is that a full set of encyclopedias?"

Two minutes later I'm on the phone with Ryan asking him to come pick me and 26 books up.

An open letter to the guy who gave me his e-mail address scribbled on a scrap of paper like two years ago in the street

Dear guy who gave me his e-mail address scribbled on a piece of paper like two years ago when I was walking past and told me you like my style,

Hey. What's up?

Listen, um...here's the thing. I AM OBVIOUSLY NOT INTERESTED IN YOU.

Not only do I have a boyfriend, but I'm not into hip hop guys. Or aggressively forward guys either. You lose three times.

Also? Creepy guys who feel they have the right to continue to pester me TWO EFFING YEARS LATER. Not into those either.

I only took your e-mail at all because you caught me so off guard and I thought it would be harmless. Honestly, that never happens to me, so I said "thanks" and walked away. Remember? I wasn't like "Hey cool, let's be best friends and go on dates and hold hands for ever and ever." I was like "Okay bye."

And guess what. I threw it in the garbage and felt like an idiot like a minute later. Why did I take the thing at all? I should have just said no thank you.

But I figured you'd get the point anyway, seeing as I never e-mailed you.

And then remember how it was late at night one time and I was walking home from the bus stop and you saw me? And I was talking on the phone and walking because that's what I do when I feel creeped out at night. I call my boyfriend and he talks me home. Remember? And this was like months and months later and you started saying my name over and over and I just kept walking as though I only had ears for my telephone? Yeah. I did that on purpose to avoid you.

And then I thought it was over. I thought FINALLY you got the hint. When I ignored you to your face.

Then I saw you looking at me on the bus a few months after that. Good thing I had readings to do for school so I could pointedly ignore you.

But seriously? The other day? When I was waiting for the bus downtown and listening to music and you got your friend to come up to me and say my name over and over and over until I finally acknowledged him...yeah okay. I am officially getting angry. LEAVE THE THE FUCK ALONE.

I didn't recognize him, obviously, but then I saw you standing there and pretended I didn't know who either of you were ON PURPOSE so you would GO AWAY.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" I asked.

And you were offended and said "You don't remember me?"

I wanted to blatantly point out that no, not everybody remembers every single encounter with every single human being from two fucking years ago. Unfortunately I do remember you, because you are starting to scare me.

Go away. For real.

Never to be yours,

Nova

seriously guys

found via post secret

I can't believe I got 'talk to the hand'-ed the other day. I just can't get over it.

Like straight up hand in the face, oh-no-she-di'int style. Seriously. Who does that?

I was like "Whaaat?"

Scene: On the bus, sitting near the front are two girls who are obviously excited about something. They both have colorful roller-suitcases with them and are chatting loudly.

Girl 1: OMG BLA BLA BLA
Girl 2: Like, I KNOW, BLA BLA BLA

Bus driver: Hey girls...
Girl 1: I think he's talking to us.
Bus driver: Girls?
Girl 2: Yes?
Bus driver: Do you have any idea how often you say "like"?
Girl 2: Um...
Girl 1: No...?
Bus driver: You sound really unintelligent.
Girl 1: Okay...thank you. (sarcastic tone)
Bus driver: If I like were like your like professor I'd like tell you to like knock it off. (totally mocking them)
Girl 2: Hm.
Girl 1: Yeah...thanks.
Bus driver: I mean, I can tell you're intelligent girls. You just need to quit saying "like" so much. You sound so stupid.
Girl 1: *speechless*
Girl 2: *speechless*
me: *like "whaaat?"*

In various linguistics courses I've learned to overcome most of my stereotypical perceptions of language, like the "saying like means you're stupid" false dichotomy.

It annoys some people because it's a different sub-dialect than what non-like-sayers speak. It's like hearing an as of yet unacknowledged "ebonics"... you know what I'm sayin'?
And it's easy and fun to look down on others. It's what human beings do best. But here's my linguistics lesson for you for today:

"Like" is a valid hedge-word or discourse particle(or space holder, to take a breath or pause for a second to collect your thoughts, or the way we use "um" in a conversation). The way we usually hear it now is actually an adverb, meaning "nearly",(As in "I like died"). It's also commonly used as a quotative (to introduce a quote or impression), as in "He was like..." or to paraphrase an UNSAID idea or sentiment, (I was like "I can't believe this") including non-verbal motions and sounds. (The dinosaur was like RAAA!)

In other words, it's here to stay and it's a valid and meaningful form of expressing complex ideas, and there's no avoiding it. How else would you introduce an impression into your conversation?

He said "bla bla bla"? No, it's awkward.

If you're a 'like' sayer, don't be ashamed. Own it. I do.

bus tale number 3235

(not my bus #, FYI)

He got on the bus, stomping his feet dramatically. Fluorescent pink t-shirt and matching skateboard deck. Not happy, apparently.

He flopped down in the seat directly behind mine. Why? The entire upper deck of the bus was free except for me, MMA guy, and the three sluts at the front.

Then, I don't know what the hell he was doing but there was a lot of noise that sounded like the skateboard was having a seizure on the floor, which, because we were on the top floor of the bus, echoes obnoxiously.

Maybe he was practicing his ollie? I didn't want to turn around and look because whatever it was sounded aggressive and I didn't want to be murdered and burned like that girl...yes, this was my train of thought. Clearly my risk of being murdered and burned has increased since it happened to somebody else recently, right?

...

Two guys with armloads of alcohol got on the bus. They came upstairs and sat all the way in the back. I hoped they wouldn't open any of those beers.

I hate it when people drink beer on the bus. It stinks and causes drama. It also makes me an unwilling accomplice, because I don't tell on them like some kind of square. What they don't know is a big part of me wants to, even though it's none of my business.

One time a guy sat in front of me on a full bus and smoked a joint. I could not believe my eyes. Nobody said anything to him.

Two stops later the guys with the alcohol rang the bell. The one with arms full of beer said "I just have to navigate my ass down these steps and we're home free" and I almost laughed out loud. It really struck me as funny. Maybe I was just tired.

...

Ten minutes later a cell phone rings. MMA guy answers and his speech is a parody of Stallone in a Rocky movie, garbley and full of steroid-fueled machismo. He probably just finished working out with seven of his bros at gator's gym or something. His volume was dialed up to 11.

"YAH? YOU WATCHIN' THE FIGHTS TONIGHT? Huh. FUCK YEAH. WHERE YOU AT BRO? CAN Y...FUCK, MAN. I'M ON THE BUS. I DUNNO. I'M BY MCDONALDS OR SOME SHIT. PICK ME UP.
NO. IT'S A LONG WALK. FUCK. DON'T FUCKING ARGUE WITH ME. FUCK YOU..." etc.

...

I could see my stop coming up and pushed the button over my head to ring the bell and started "navigating my ass" down the aisle toward the stairs. After a prolonged silence, skateboard guy slammed his board down, hard. I still didn't look, but as I made my descent I heard MMA guy say "DUDE SHUT THE FUCK UP" and I kind of wished my stop was five minutes later so I could see how it played out.

Once I stepped outside though I was relieved.

what the grad student of today sounds like, and reflections on "higher" education

So as some of you may know I transcribe videos on the side for some extra cash. It's fabulous because I can do it from 5pm to midnight or at 4 in the morning or whenever I have time.

And I get checks mailed to me from UVic, which kind of feels like payback in a way. Like if I just do 4000 more hours of video they'll have paid me back for my tuition and I WIN somehow.

It's also neat because I get paid depending on my efficiency. It's all up to me. The pay is a set amount per-video-hour, not by how long it takes me to transcribe the video, so if I piss around or don't really pay attention I might make like 8 bucks an hour. But if I really put my mind to it and try typing while they're talking and only pausing it when things get too crazy I can make like 15 bucks an hour. It's kind of a fun challenge.

Doing this type of transcription really causes me to pay attention to the way people speak.

It's tough, not only because every single person seems to have a crazy accent for some reason (hello french-Canadian man with a major stutter! and mumbling Spanish guy!) but also because people really really talk around in circles. Unless they're focused on a task, I've found in these videos that the people will just blather out words like there's no tomorrow, with no distinguishable point.

Especially the highly educated ones.

And since starting this second job, I've been paying more attention to people in my own life. It seems like the more academic training somebody has had, the more they do this. It's like they've lost their ability to speak succinctly.

Here's an example, copied and pasted straight from the last transcription I did:

(remember, this is a grad student, or maybe even post-grad)

(to get the full effect, don't scan it, read it out loud. seriously try it. it's insane)

And I’m just wondering, because like I mean as we’re looking at this…th-this transcription, beforehand we uh obviously have some kind of...we would assume some kind of claim. So can you demonst…can you create a claim and demonstrate how I … and demonstrate how connections exist in this transcript and how they suppor-and how how we can use them to support

Well...uh to uh t-to support … to be used for as evidence to support the claim. Because like to me I want to infer that he’s using basically i-like using basically like uncomfortable words and so on demonstrates that to me like I want I want to right now infer that he’s not quite comfortable and as I read down it’s about dreaming and you know meditative states and it’s uh almost to me like I’m inferring that he’s u..that he’s not a hundred percent sure but that’s just because of my personal experience, I’ve g…like I know people who are very very certain about what they’re talking about and those words…mean that I’m avoiding listening to them or um they’re very succinct about what they are talking about.

But do you see what I mean? Like I’m trying to infer, trying to make sense out of this without having a claim to demonstrate where the anal-where the evidence is linking into it.S-similarly there are a number of constraints for us because we don’t…I don’t have...


Etcetera.

I was kind of talking about this with somebody the other day, how people with an education don't necessarily have any intelligence. And sometimes it's quite the opposite.

A 20-something girl talked down to me the other day (outside of school), assuming I didn't know what an ellipsis is.

"sorry," she said, "I'm an English major"

Yeah, of course you are, because nobody else would be pretentious enough to even use the word in the context it was given.

I learned through taking linguistics that one needs to use multiple linguistic strategies to get them through the day. You wouldn't talk to your grandma the same way you talk to your best friend, right? The same goes for talking to the general public using words like "therefore" or ... oh, I don't know, "ellipsis". Unless you're certain that your interlocutor will know what the hell you're talking about, it's just showing off.

I know plenty of gigantic words. My favorite coffee mug is this one:



I mean, we're talking extreme word-nerdism up in here. But in my everyday life, like when I go grab a coffee you don't hear me using these words. There is a time and a place

And yeah, it's fun to practice and it's fun to feel like you're in on something that not everybody knows, but unfortunately what comes with studying such a specialized skill is the danger of becoming a pretentious twit. There are very few places in life to which you can apply your literary analysis skills or your ... I don't know, close-reading-of-poetry skills. (ugh)

This is why "higher education" seems so useless to most people...the usefulness is so abstract.

Because it's not always about "getting a high-paying job".



But then what is it all about? Why do people do it?

I really feel like I'm never going to be a linguist or a ... I don't know, Spanish teacher or whatever, but I did learn a lot over these years: how to meet a deadline, how to have an open mind to new theories, how to think outside the box...how to appreciate art (but really I still hate most poetry no matter how "groundbreaking" it was), how to spot a pretentious twit...

Actually working in a tattoo shop and being a student at the same time has really opened my eyes to what makes a person think they're "cool" or "smart" and I feel like I can really see through a lot of the crap people put out there. University is useful and of course it's almost necessary today just to get jobs in many fields, but I guess the point of all this has already been covered by the idiom:

You can't judge a book by it's cover.

Don't be fooled by big words or gigantic mohawks and patchy punk pants. They really say nothing about the person's character.

can you say it?

me: I don't want to say it, will you just say it?

ryan: yep

me: I just don't know the etiquette, like, do you just...say it? is it rude?

ryan: what do you mean?

me: I don't know.

ryan: well what's your friend's last name?

me: why?

ryan: in case they ask who we know

me: they won't. just say the band's name

ryan: but what if...

me: okay, then I'll tell them.

----- at the door of the nightclub ----

bouncer: you guys have I.D.?

ryan: yep (shows him)

me: yep (shows him)

bouncer: and do you have tickets tonight?

ryan: oh, we're on the guest list.

bouncer: okay go on in

ticket girl at door: that'll be fifteen dollars

me: oh...

ryan: we're on the list

ticket girl: pardon?

me: we're on the list. the guest list I mean.

ticket girl: oh. name?

me: nova

ticket girl: um...(flipping through papers)...whose guest are you?

me: the Manvils

ticket girl: what's your name?

me: nova

ticket girl: and...(gestures to ryan)

me: oh, ryan.

ticket girl: who?

me: ryan

ticket girl: pardon?

me: RYAN

ticket girl: did you say Ryan or Brian?

me: RYAN

ticket girl: pardon?

me: RYAN. ryan with an 'R'

ticket girl: oh. i thought you said brian. I only have a ryan, not a brian

me: nope. ryan. with an "R".

a dental story

Receptionist: Hi, how can I help you today?

Me: Hi, I have an appointment at 2:00, I'm a bit early I think.

Receptionist: Hm, yeah you are, but I think I can rearrange everything to get you in to see the dentist right away.

Me: Um. Okay. Uh. But I mean, if it's, like, too much trouble I can just like go away and come back later or something.

Receptionist: Oh no, it's no problem. Let me see what I can do to get you in that chair ASAP.

Me: Uh

Receptionist: Unless you want to wait until 2:00?

Me: Oh (fake laugh) no, no. Let's get me in as soon as possible. You know, get it over with!

(receptionist goes away for like 20 minutes)

(I sit in a chair, wishing I had brushed my teeth after eating those chocolate covered espresso beans)

Different girl in scrubs, very cheerful: Okay come on in!

Me: (false-cheerful voice) Okay! Here I come!

Scrubs girl: Okay I'll just get you to sit down

Me: (taking off jacket very slowly as dentist comes in) So I gotta say I'm a little nervous

Dentist: (laugh)

Me: No, seriously.

Dentist: Oh. Well it's nothing compared to getting tats.

Me: (sitting in dentist chair that is reclined way too far back) Well...still...

Dentist: It'll be over soon.

Me: Yeah, but...

Dentist: Over. Soon.

Me: (propping myself up awkwardly on my elbows while scrubs girl fastens paper bib around my neck) I need you to tell me exactly what you're going to do.

Dentist: Okay...

Me: No, really. It'll help.

Dentist: (laugh) Well first I'm going to rub this stuff on your gums

Me: Mhm

Dentist: and we let that sit for a couple minutes and then I take this needle (shows me the needle)

Me: (eyes widen, voice quavers) Yeah.

Dentist: bla bla bla drill bla bla stuff that makes cavities change color bla bla computer screen bla bla bla now here we go!

Me: um...okay

Dentist: (putting numbing gel stuff on my gums in the back) Woops, got some on your lip

Me: What lip? It's gone!

Dentist: Ha ha. But seriously is it tingly?

Me: Mhm

Dentist: NEEDLE TIME

Me: (OMIFUCKINGGODI'M SO SCARED because I had a terrible needle incident once as a child or something) (playing it super cool) Okay

Dentist: (needling me) You know how with tattoos some places hurt more than others?

Me: *sigh*

Dentist: Well, lucky for you it's the same in the mouth and these places hurt the least.

Me: (feigning interest in his words and not his hands with the needle, eyebrows raised) Hmm!

(needle doesn't hurt at all)

(dentist and girl with scrubs leave the room for like ten minutes)

(I watch The Office on the ceiling TV wearing the gigantic public headphones. Only later did I realize how gross that was to have shared headphones with probably hundreds of other patients)

(They come back)

(Dentist doesn't even do any test-pokes to see if I'm numb, just gets out the drilly machines and stuff. I take this for extreme confidence in the anaesthetic and not as an oversight)

Dentist: (to scrubs girl) Where's my __?

Scrubs girl: Um, right beside you.

Dentist: Could you grab it please?

Scrubs girl: Sigh. Fine.

Dentist: It's your job.

Scrubs girl: You're the only person that makes me do it.

Dentist: Yeah, well you're here to work.

Scrubs girl: Mhm, and take care of your ass

Me: (so awkward)

Dentist: DRILL DRILL DRILL DRILL

Scrubs girl: suction thing suctionthing, air shooter thing, suctionthing

TV: The office the office the office

Me: (alternating between trying to concentrate on the office and trying to figure out what they're doing up in my mouth because DAMN THAT FEELS WEIRD or DAMN THAT SOUNDS TERRIFYING)

Me: (Also lying there hoping so hard that the anasthetic really really worked and not just seemed like it worked until they're using that extra loud sand-blaster drill on that tooth)

Dentist: How are you doing?

Me: (thumbs up)

Me: (lip starts twitching weirdly and I point at it because I think it's funny)

Dentist: (to scrubs girl) I think she wants some suction

Me: (nods to avoid another fight between them)

Dentist: DRILL DRILL DRILL PRESSURE PRESSURE DRILL SUPERFUCKINGSCARYLOUDDRILL

Scrubs girl: air thing, weird light thing that I think sets the fillings, air thing suction thing

Me: (Trying to breathe with all the saliva and stuff everywhere)

Dentist: I have to say you're the best patient we've worked on all week

Me: Hm?

Dentist: Isn't that right scrubs girl?

Scrubs girl: Mhm

Dentist: We could put you in an instructional video or something

Me: (proud of myself) (laugh)

Dentist: Okay we're done. (leaves the room)

Me: Okay, thanks for drilling my teeth!

Dentist: (calls after him, already down the hallway) No problem

Scrubs girl: Okay, get out of here.

Me: Okay. Here I go. (noticing my numb face) I feel like a fool!

Scrubs girl: You look fine.

Me: (believing her) Okay then.

(I walk to the front and get out my wallet)

Receptionist: Okay that's going to be 80 million dollars and here's an instructional piece of paper on fillings.

Me: Okay bye. (weird frozen smile)

Receptionist: (exchanges glances with other receptionist) (smirk) Okay then. Bye.

(I noticed the smirk and speed-walked to the bathroom and smiled at myself in the mirror)

Me: Holy shit half my face isn't moving. I should take a picture of thi...

(bathroom door opens. Girl walks in and starts doing makeup. I decide just to go home)

(halfway to bus stop I realize i have to pee)

Me: Why didn't I go while I was in the bathroom? What is wrong with me?

(I turn around, go back inside, nearly collide with my dentist. Avoid eye contact to the extreme and escape into the bathroom)

(On my way out I notice blood on the bathroom stall door.)

Me: That's weird

(I go to wash my hands, look in the mirror and see blood on my face)

Me: Hm, must be from going to the dentist or something

Turns out my knuckle was scraped and I was bleeding all over everything. I didn't even care, I just pressed some balled up toilet paper onto the wound and went on my way.

...


Unfortunately there is no beautiful denouement to this riveting tale. I went home and had a shower and put on some jammies. The end.

cue David Bowie song

Today two people recognized me in the street.

The first guy was like "Hey, that girl goes to UVic!"
The second said "Ohh YEAH!"

Yeah, you heard them. I'm 'the girl who goes to UVic"



?

oh UVic.

You know that saying: You learn something new every day? I believe it.

For example, the other day I learned that official application deadlines to graduate from university are very flexible.

The deadline to graduate this May was December 1, 2009. I applied two days ago. All I had to do was pay a late fee of ten bucks.

Since graduating is all the rage these days, I knew how it went down. I heard talk in the streets, you know, at the end of November, 2009, about how you go to the one building and fill out a form and then you pay sixty bucks for the honor of filling out that form or whatever? The 'application fee' which is just one last kick in the teeth from ol' UVic.

They're basically saying "whatcha gonna do about it punk?" *curbstomp* "you wanna graduate, doncha?" *ninja kick to face while I'm helplessly tied to a chair in a warehouse with a gasoline soaked rag stuffed in my mouth and duct tape is over top of my mouth so I can't even give one of my classic witty one-liners to the camera*

So yes. After already giving various schools fifty thousand dollars over the past seven and a half years...that's it!

When I went to fill out the form I was all nervous because it's like...waaaay past the deadline and the lady was scary and the place reminded me of the DMV you see on TV with the brown decor and Patty and Selma from The Simpsons smoking behind the desk and everything...even though I got an e-mail saying "oh yeah, you're cool, just come give us that money and everything will be okay"

I got my little crappy yellow application form from the grouchy lady and filled it out. I thought to myself "hey self, wouldn't it be a great idea to write everything out in capital letters, because that way it's super easy for them to read and they won't make a mistake and put an 's' instead of a 'z' in your last name like everybody always does?"
And then I thought "yes, that does sound like a great idea."

So I wrote everything out IN CAPITALS. My name, my major, my minor. My phone number. My home town, etcetera etcetera.

Then, after signing it, I noticed some teeeeeny tiny words printed at the bottom of the page, beside the signature box. It said "please turn over". So I did.

And there, on the back of the sheet, were the instructions for how to fill the sheet out. Okay, WTF. Why would they tell you to read the instructions at the end of the page?

And um...one of the first things it said was use UPPER and lower case letters so they know exactly how to print out the diploma.

AHHHHH DAMNIT.

So I got back in line and when it was my turn I shamefully confessed that I read the back of the page after already filling it out and I made a mistake.

So she made a few phone calls. Like, this was a big deal, apparently. I told her I'd just fill out another one but she's like "Maybe Mark will accept this".
But he didn't.
So she was like "okay I have to destroy this one forever, could you please fill out another one?"

And I did.

Later that day I got an e-mail from Mark...I forgot to write my Major on the second form.
AAARGH
But don't worry, he corrected it for me.

I was briefly relieved until I noticed in the subject line of the e-mail that...my last name was spelled with an 's'.

*sigh*

Bureaucracy.