Snow Love Hate

It snowed last night. Now, I love snow. I love the whiteness, and the hush it puts over everything, and the clothes people wear. It also makes me love my duvet more than ever.

What I do not love is how this city reacts to snow. We got 5 cm, people! That's 2 inches, for any Americans out there. So please, explain how it is that after 5 cm of snow, buses are sliding across intersections, delayed, disabled, and can't make it up hills? Have you never heard about snow tires? Chains? These are not new developments! And drivers: I understand that snow is not a common occurrence in this city, but it's not the apocalypse. Stop driving at 15 km/h. And the rest of you, stop driving at 70. Look behind you; there's no one there. Slow down.

Also, UBC, you know your drainage issues? Why do they get a frajillion times worse when it snows? And why, when Plant Operations shovels the walks, do they form snow walls around puddles, creating miniature lakes at every crosswalk? And why is it that instead of shoveling the snow in central places like the bus loop, you spend your time clearing Koerner library, and allow the rest of campus to become a huge slushball? Why don't you use your tiny snow plows more in the morning, instead of waiting until 5 pm like today?

Vancouver: why does UBC have more snow plows than you do?

And mom? Please stop stealing my pretty snow clothes - I know you have my hat. It's pretty and soft and warm and it has a bow and I want it back. Now. And also, remember that time you left my favourite shoes outside and racoons ate them? I've decided, since they no longer make those shoes, that you can replace them with warm, fuzzy boots. And they have to be cute.

Election, Anyone?

Rrring! Rrring!

J-Bird: Hello?
Campaigner: Hi, I'm calling from the office of Stephen [crackly sound], [crackly sound]rty candidate for your riding, we believe that soon the government will fall and wanted to know if we could count on your vote in the upcoming election?
J-Bird: I'm sorry, you're calling for Stephen who? (Note: both the conservative and liberal candidates for my riding have Stephen as their first name)
Campaigner: Stephen Rogers. Of the Conservative Party.
J-Bird: Oh. Uh...No. You can't.
Campaigner: ...Oh.
J-Bird: ...Yeah. Um, thanks for calling!

A Bunch of Little Stuff

I'm currently working on my 101 in 1001 list. It's taking me a bloody long time to find 101 things.

I'm addicted to Sudoku. Seriously.

I have Bombay Dreams songs in my head. (Shakalaka baby, shakalaka baby...)

I'm having another one of those phases where I feel all pensive and less bubbly than usual. But It's okay, cause I know it'll pass.

Less than a month til J and Girly are back! Yay!

I have a paper due on Thursday, and I haven't started.

I may, without even having read, have fallen in love with Queer Eye Carson Kressley's new book You're Different and That's Super!

It's almost Christmas! And I love Christmas!

Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing...

Marciano bag, originally uploaded by Never Reason.

It's not black, though. (If you hadn't guessed, I bought the jacket.)

I Need a Plumber!

My house is currently suffering from an odor problem. Namely, it smells like sewage. Not everywhere; my room, for example, is thankfully free of the stank. But the scent wafts throughout the main floor of the building, coming from the basement, into which I refuse to venture. I did it at the beginning of this whole mess (yesterday), and since I found nothing, I clearly shouldn't be in charge of the second sweep.

The problem is, nothing looks wrong down there; if it weren't for the obvious smell, and the fact that the toilets are tripping out and only half-flushing every once in a while, everything seems normal. Except that I'm now scared to use our toilets (what if, when I flush, it finally gets to be too much and our pipes explode into grossness all over the basement?). And scared to shower (do the toilets and the shpwers use separate pipes? Or the same ones? What if showering could cause the unhygienic explosion?). I figure at this point, a good portion of the perks of living in a house have been negated. I'm basically living in a heated, exceptionally-furnished but non-operational port-o-potty.

For the love of god, get me a plumber.

Fog Rolls In...

There's fog all over the city. Thick fog, like dry ice sublimating. I've always liked fog - walking through fog like this is like walking in a void, where you're hidden by a huge blanket. When you do see objects, they seem more significant for their cloaks. And the air is heavy and wet and feels thicker.

The fog is supposed to stay for a while; I'm going to try to take pictures of it.

I Keep on Falling

When I go shopping, I'm generally perfectly happy with the slightly-above-what-I-would-call-reasonably-priced stores such as Jacob, RW&Co, and the sales racks at Banana Republic and Guess. I'm told that I'm kind of cheap, when it comes to clothes, although I don't think I am at all; it seems to me the people telling me this are way too spendy ($300 on jeans? I don't care who made them, hell no). But lately, I've noticed that every once in a while I seem to fall in love with items I see when browsing with my less cost-conscious friends in pricier stores; falling in deep, obsessive, longing love.

Over the summer, it was a skirt; an oh-so-pretty skirt from Bebe, below the knee (they make things below the knee! The new Bebe: not all skanky), yards of cloth, a reddish pink, with embroidered detailing all over and a sash. I loved it. While T marveled at the bejeweled jeans (I admit it, a month before it was the new thing), I lamented to Kaisha about the price of my skirt - $135. Not including tax. My skirt and I bed a fond goodbye, and we parted ways.

In August, however, we returned to the store, and lo and behold, the skirt was on sale! I have to give Bebe its due; they know how to put things on sale. I walked out with my skirt for a mere $45, tax included. And wore it to a wedding later that month.

Friday, I went shopping with Kaisha and T again. Kaisha and I took a look through Guess before meeting up with T. Generally, I find a few things in the store to earmark for the sales rack later on. Friday I found nothing. The whole store was completely bleagh, until I got to the back where I found...this (but in all black).

I'm completely in love again.

Unexpected Guests

What lives in your sink?, originally uploaded by Never Reason.

So last night, I get home, go to the kitchen to fix myself a snack, and hear a scrabbling noise. Look in the sink, and behold! My mum has six live crabs chilling out in there. They weren't so impressed with my arrival however; got a little snappish when I came too close.

I love my family.

Damn, I'm Mouthy! (250!)

250, people! This is post number two hundred and fifty! Which means three things:

1) I type a lot.
2) There's a strong possibility I have far too much time on my hands.
3) It's time I introduced a new, exciting aspect to the blog, so behold...

(look to the right hand side of the page)

the Flickr badge! That's right, I have added photo (and what limited video you see in the badge) to NeverReason! If you can't see it, get Flash, people. Seriously. This is the 21st century we're in. Join the party. And to see all my pictures, in larger, less squinty format, click on the "what is this?" and then Never Reason.

I'll write more later today, I promise. However, it took me a long, long time to cajole my computer into letting this work, so I'm going to take a break and bask in the glory, and in the Oprah. See? Nothing's really changed.

Bruised

Ow. I am at my most battered in a long time. I generally live a fairly delicate life; no contact sports, no heavy lifting...you get the picture. Tonight, I type before you a wounded woman. Not as a result of impact sports; no, although the last few days have also been my most athletic in a long time, with the exception of a broken nail (which no, I do not include in my inventory of injuries), I emerged from them unscathed. No, these bruises have been inflicted by The Cafe.

Yeah, you heard me. A Cafe/family breakfast place has beaten me into submission. This is probably where some of you are starting to think I'm just using "beaten" as a metaphor for "exhausted", but I'm serious. I have bruises, people!

So how did I get them? Mopping. Not by me, mind you - peripheral character mopping. Basically, the boys in the back (ie the kitchen crew) were mopping the place. When the floors of the cafe are wet, they get very very slippery. We're talking slip'n'side here. And I bailed. Full on, landed horizontal on my left-side, bailed. On my iPod mini. Which, thank god, lives up to its claimed sturdiness. But my body? Does not. I am bruised to the bejeesus. And my ankle really hurts.

Ow.

Stay tuned for the 250th NeverReason post! That's right, 250! Right after the break.

Good News!

After three consecutive "passes", I now need only go in for pap smears once every two years! Oh, wonderful day!

Of course, that's assuming I'm a nun for the next two years. If otherwise, smear me up. I'm all for taking care of myself, people.

here's reminding you to go take care of yo'selves too

Muffin is the Word!

Tonight, I have completed a challenge; the A-Maze-ing Team Challenge. This is a time-honoured tradition of garbage-bag mazes, shooting adversaries with pingpong balls, and memorizing Mr. Potatohead configurations (among other things). And not only did we complete the challenge, we WON the challenge, baby! That's right, undefeated throughout the events, after head to head playoffs, we came out so on top!

As I mentioned, a garbage-bag maze is involved; a more detailed description is necessary, which will now be supplied (to you, my enthralled readers. Heh). The maze is made up of various wooden frames covered in orange plastic mesh (these make the walls). This entire structure is covered in garbage bags, making it basically pitch black inside, and then smoke machines pump smoke in the whole thing, making it even harder to see. The maze is only about four feet high, which means you have to run around in it hunched over. Objects are hidden throughout the maze (at least two teams are going at a time, the objects are colour-coded), that have to be retrieved by team members in the maze (armed with flashlights, thank goodness). In the preliminary round, each person must get one item, in a relay setup. We got the 2nd best time overall in the prelims, which should have warned us we were about to rock the whole thing; after completing the other stations (I'd describe them entirely too if I wasn't sure you'd all just get up and leave if I did), we advanced to semifinals, which were head to head against another team. We won handily, getting ourselves to finals.

Finals were a little different; three objects to retrieve, three flashlights, six people in the maze at once, everyone had to be outside the maze to win. The objects were as follows - a pingpong ball duct taped to the floor, a baton also taped to the floor, and a hockey bag weighing over 100 lbs. As another round was occuring, our team got together to strategize; we decided to stay in pairs (so no one was wandering in the dark). After some more discussion, I came up with the idea that we should have a safety word; if all the objects were found and outside the maze, but team members were still in the maze, those members outside would yell the safety word to let those inside know that they should just get the hell outside. We decided on the word "muffin", for it's distinguishability, and guarded our word closely, so the other team wouldn't hear and use it against us.

Finals start: we all enter the maze, and myself and my partner couldn't find a single one of our items. We found every item that belonged to the other team, but not one of ours. We're running frantically through the maze, trying to find these things, when we hear our team mates yelling "MUFFIN! MUUUUUFFFFFIIINNNN!!!" at the top of their lungs. We were a little lost at this point, but after some handy teamwork between myself and my partner, we were outside, and the CHAMPIONS!!!

Which is why, of course, muffin is the word.

Happy Halloween!

Not for parents here in Vancouver, though. It's the most miserable weather out that I can remember for a Halloween today. Gray and soggy. None of the kids will notice, of course; they'll be pumped so full of sugar and adrenaline that rain will likely be experienced as a fortunate cooling spray. The parents, however, will feel it. They'll feel it as they trudge after their prancing kids, as they grind leaves and mud and pumpkin brains to mush on the sidewalk. They feel it when they encounter the little herds of smart-mouthed pre-teens walking up and down the streets waving sticks of firecrackers. They'll feel it at home, while weeding through the loot with numb fingers to detect any tampering.

But that'll all fade once the kids are quiet again, too busy eating the candy to make any ruckus about it. And, finally, for once, there will be peace.

At least until the next dentist appointment.

Note: too old to trick or treat? Come out and collect canned food for the Food Bank with Trick or Eat! You know you want to!

Christmas Shopping with the Stars

So, for reasons unknown, my brother gets the Neiman Marcus catalog. We've been getting it (his mail still gets sent here, regardless of the fact that he's moved out) for a few months now, and I've always looked at it with a mixture of wonder and incredulity; the prices for some (hideous) items are nothing short of astounding. Although it did explain how the store stays open; if it sells a total of 3 items, their quarter is made.

And then, this week, we got the Christmas Book. Now some of the pages are filled with the usual fare; $500 crystal Buddhas, ugly dresses, Manolo Blahniks. In there somewhere is a Louis Vuitton Jewelry Box, for a whopping $44,200. But then there are the Fantasy Gifts.

Would you like a personal Photo Booth? Only $20,000 (I know, you can buy two photo booths and still save money compared to the jewelry box. It's like budgeting on a whole new level). How about a Grand Empire Railroad? Large enough that your son can ride it, it includes a locomotive, cars, caboose, station, and 1000 feet of track. I kid you not. For the steal of a deal of $200,000.

Not extravagant enough? How about a private concert with Sir Elton John (production costs and travel costs not included)? Yes, Sir Elton John himself will come to you, and play for you and your friends. As a special bonus gift, you will also receive an Elton John Signature Series Red Baby Grand Piano, yours to keep. Limited offer, only one will be sold! Yours for the low, low price of $1.5 million dollars. (To be entirely fair, the 1.5 million goes to the AIDS Foundation.)

And if you'd rather hold the concert away from your home, you can always fly there in your brand new Skycar. For only $3.5 million, you can own your very own, real-life, flying car. Because ground transportation? Is for the poor.

I wonder if that's where Bill Gates buys his Christmas gifts. I did notice there were no gold-plated monkey sock-puppets. Clearly, someone at Neiman Marcus is dropping the ball.

Amazing Thursday

Today was such a great day, and it's not even over. This morning, I got up and cleaned a little, as my parents got home later in the day, and pre-morning? It was not so pretty (what? I've been busy! At least I kept up with the dishes. Shut up!). And then at around 11:30 I left to head towards Chinatown, where I met up with Kaisha, with whom I had a whole fabulous day planned. We started by heading to dim sum (which is quickly becoming the best-documented event on my blog), which, as usual, was excellent. We then headed to Coquitlam, to go to this store; we went because I am quickly succumbing to the scrapbooking bug, and because this is where Kaisha, who makes incredible scrapbooks, goes all the time (she grew up in Coquitlam, so she's been going there for ages). And let me tell you, it was well worth the trip. We spent about an hour and a half in there (it's a big store, relative to any other scrapbooking store. That is, it's not huge), although a lot of that time was spent looking for various things (the layout is a little labyrinthine). We also asked the salespeople a lot of questions. I have to say though, the guy on shift was incredibly helpful. The two of us had been harrassing him for the past hour, and as he was ringing my purchases in, this conversation transpired:

Helpful Guy(As he rings in my paper trimmer - $35.99)
"You know, soon we'll have beginner's packs out"

Kaisha
"Oh, J-Bird, you should get that, it comes with a paper trimmer. When is soon?"

Helpful Guy
"Like later this week. But I can just put one together for you now if you want. It contains a paper trimmer, photo squares, a glue stick, scissors, a pencil, a pen, and 25% off another purchase of your choice for $50"

J-Bird
"Is...that a good deal?"

Kaisha
"Yeah, it totally is. You should get it"

J-Bird
"Okay, can I do that?"

Helpful Guy
"Sure! I'll just go grab everything for you."

He then proceeded to run around the store for ten minutes gathering my beginner's pack components, and then waited for another 5 minutes while Akaisha and I tried to decide what my "25% off" purchase should be. I was pretty impressed that after having to deal with us for that long, and having the opportunity to get rid of us quickly, he still took the time to offer me the better deal, and then put it all together. I mean, I know that's how salespeople are supposed to be, but let's be honest; how often does that actually happen? So go to Clipper Street, people. It's a good place.

After that, we headed for a quick stop to IKEA, where I purchased some bed linens. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep them, though. For one, I'm dubious about the colour; I love the colour itself, but it may have some problems coordinating with the rest of my room. Also, they're for my current bed, which is a twin, and I'm hoping to upgrade to something bigger soon.

And finally, we went to the Ronald McDonald House, and carved pumpkins with the kiddies there. So much fun! I love good days.

It's Been A While

So I've clearly fallen behind on the posting front. Anyway, here's a quick rundown of what's been going on...

I went to a formal at Science World, and thanks to J (for the dress) and Jason (for the fab hair) I looked amazing. Science World, people. It's good party times.

I turned 22. The day started off a little shaky; within 5 minutes of my being 22, I managed to fall and sprain my ankle (no, I was not drunk. I was leaving my house to drive my brother home). But ended quite well; I went to dim sum (yum!) with one of my babies, got nice phone calls from other babies and friends, and hung out with T for the first time in ages. I also received some very cute emails and ecards - Thanks!

My babies are no longer babies! It's was perfect and sweet and now I'm baby-less and sad. Except we all know they'll always be my babies. I love them.

And my parents get home on Thursday. Which means no more random food/starvation for me; I get mom food again! Quite excited.

Anyway, that about wraps it. Sorry this is so choppy; I spent the morning writing an essay, and now I'm all written out. I promise better quality next time.

Studying and Basketball

Phew. I'm in the middle of studying for a midterm, but as the textbook is so stultifyingly boring, this is a welcome break. So how is everyone? I think you should all leave a comment telling me about one exciting thing that's happened to you in the past week. In the spirit of getting it all started, I'm going to tell you all about the basketball game I played lately.

Yes, basketball. I knowm who actually plays basketball once they're finished high school? The last time I'd really played (beyond the PE teacher-mandated activities) was before then, in elementary school. But the sorority, for the first time in known history, has a basketball team. And after one of my babies quickly explained the rules (yes, we were that rusty; elementary school was ten years ago, people) we did quite well, routing the other team 40-16. Granted, the aforementioned new girl scored 20 of our 40 points, but still, it was a solid team effort. And hilarious. The refs clearly thought we were all morons, which we...can't really fault them for. Heh. Can't wait til the next game.

Alright, back to the studying. Anyone reading this, please, please avoid Clinical Psychology at UBC. The textbook alone is like paper boredom. Ugh. Back I go.

Thoughts

"I may not be where I want to be, but I'm sure as hell not where I was"

I totally stole that from someone (points if you can name who!), but it's something that lately, I think I need to remind myself of. I feel like right now I'm so busy trying to do everything that I'm losing myself. It's a confusing feeling, though, because all these things I'm trying to do are so closely identified with my sense of self that to not do them would make me worry about the same thing. And there's no one thing that's causing it all; I love my friends, and yet lately I feel like I'm not there for them enough, like there's something I'm not doing. I'm not taking a lot of classes; in fact, this is the lightest courseload I've ever had.

But my mind wanders, and in directions that I've spent the past year blocking off. I know that this is normal, I was half expecting it to come kick me in the ass at some point. I guess it's only to be expected that now, just when I think I may have finally gotten over it, it would come back out of the blue, and remind me that I'm not as strong as I may have hoped. It's a horrible feeling, having gotten so far, and fallen down. All there is in front of you is the awful knowledge of what it will take you to get back to where you were.

And so, I need to remember. Remember that I'm safe, that I have friends that will catch me when I can't catch myself. That there are so many amazing people out there that I love, and that don't believe for a second in all the things I'm scared of. I have to remember that as I know better than others the great things life holds for them, there are others that know the same of me. I have to remind myself that no matter how far I may slip, I'll still have come so far. That I'm here, with my family and friends. That every day I'm surrounded by beautiful, amazing girls that are just starting to discover things I now take for granted. I have to remember that some people can't be here anymore, and we have to make our lives big for them.

I'm not completely where I want to be, and lately I've felt lost as to where I want to go. But I know where I don't want to go, and if I can just keep off that road for long enough, I know I'll be fine.

I'm back!

This time, I'm even going to write you an actual post. Odd, no? Not so odd? That the subject is food. Thinking back, I've written more often about food than any other subject I can recall. Food is important. Especially to me.

Right now, however, food is irritating. Let me recount my day, to give you an idea of what I'm dealing with. I woke up this morning at 7 am. Not because I was so magnificently well-rested that I just couldn't wait to get a start to my day, no, but because my stomach hurt. A lot.

I can't quite explain the pain...it wasn't sharp, but it was very present. And as it moved me further through the stages of consciousness, it added on a vague sense of nausea. I didn't get sick, thank god, but I think that was mostly because the moment I realized what that gross feeling was, my head kicked in with "you can't get sick! You have too much to do!". So, in keeping with my solution for tummy aches back when I was a child, I lay in bed on my front, with my hand under my stomach (I don't know why, but the added pressure on my stomach always seems to help). I also tried grinning, which according to Sara on CSI, suppresses the gag reflex. I can't comment on the grinning, but the hand remedy did its job, and I drifted back to sleep.

However, upon getting up, that vague sense of flelch came back, and so I didn't eat anything for breakfast. This meant that by lunch time, I was starving. So when I got home, I ate. And while I don't feel sicker, I don't feel better either, AND I don't feel full. Which means that whatever it is my body is craving, I've yet to hit upon it. And trust me, I'm running out of options, espeically since I'm trying to avoid foods that might irritate grouchy Ms. Digestive System further. I feel like that guy from the greek myths, starving while surrounded by food. Except that I can eat it, it just doesn't help.

Right, back to the fridge.

I Have Babies!

14 of them, to be exact! Recruitment (aka "get involved UBC") is now over, and I have 14 amazing new girls in the sorority. So excited. Also so exhausted. But if you were wondering where I'd been, wonder no more; once again, recruitment sucks me into the abyss. Love it.