I’m a slow blogger these days. I blame life. Having up to recently spent most of mine with my (very cute) nose stuck in a science book, I haven’t quite adjusted to this whole vacation-thing. In short; I’m somewhat unprepared for actually having a life and it now takes up a lot of time, because once classes start up again, I’m going to have to get rid of it again. Enjoy it while it’s there, as some old woman on TV said the other day.
One thing I have learned is that life has its ups and downs. Last week, for example, it had a definite down.
You see, I have a freezer in my storage room. Having a freezer isn’t a bad thing, in and by itself, it can actually be mighty handy, but in my case it turned into a nightmare. In a Freddie Krüger kinda way.
To the extent of my knowledge the content of my freezer limited itself to some old plums and a bunch of berries, neither of which held much interest to me. Therefore the freezer was pretty much ignored, poor thing. However, it turned out that my mum had been putting stuff in there. Stuff that had once been alive, such as hams and bits of an elk that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Had I known that there was actual FOOD in there, I would have stopped by to visit it every once in a while and the whole, hideous disaster might have been avoided…
But I didn’t, so it wasn’t.
It started last week, when I noticed a faint, but strange odour when I walked by the big, red door that the storage room likes to hide behind. My mum, who had come to visit, noticed it to. We stuck our little heads into the room and sniffed some more. More smell. We inspected every nook and cranny, and eventually decided that the smell seemed to be coming from the freezer-area. And then we saw… the electrical outlet. It was empty, but it was supposed to be filled with the plug from the freezer. The very same plug which was now lying on the floor, stretched towards the door, as if it had been trying to get away.
We opened the freezer and became acquainted with the little odours big, fat Momma. The previously mentioned ham lay on top of a mountain of plums.
We touched it.
It exploded.
Ka-squish.
Clean-up was a bitch.
So that was my weekend. How was yours?
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Mucho mojo
I wasn’t much of a fashionista when I was in junior high. Not even close, really. To tell you the truth, I was a bit of a dork. A big bit. That didn’t stop me from trying to look hot, mind you.
All the cool girls in my class had really big hair of the kind that went straight up and then straight down, like a plane crash, and I did my very best to imitate them. Not well, but still. Hairspray was of course an important part of the process. I remember using the kind that turned into a greyish sticky dust after a while. I looked as if I had the worst case of dandruff since… well, since ever, really. Either that or an attack of lice to rival those of a person from the Middle Ages who bathed in cold water only for Christmas and slept on hay alongside of livestock.
One day I’d run out of the stuff. If I had taken the time to develop a sense of style, I would probably have considered that to be a blessing.
But I hadn’t.
So I started searching high and low for a replacement. Anything would do. I tried out every cream and sticky concoction I could find until I discovered one that worked somewhat. It didn’t make my hair stand up much, but it did make it paste nicely to my head, which made it a satisfactory replacement. After applying it, I took a moment to read the tube.
Self tanning lotion.
You know how your scalp, underneath the hair is usually paler than the rest of your face? Mine wasn’t. My face was quite pale – the kinda pale that teenage nerds who spend all summer inside with a book wind up sporting – and my scalp was a dark coconut brown.
Fancy.
All the cool girls in my class had really big hair of the kind that went straight up and then straight down, like a plane crash, and I did my very best to imitate them. Not well, but still. Hairspray was of course an important part of the process. I remember using the kind that turned into a greyish sticky dust after a while. I looked as if I had the worst case of dandruff since… well, since ever, really. Either that or an attack of lice to rival those of a person from the Middle Ages who bathed in cold water only for Christmas and slept on hay alongside of livestock.
One day I’d run out of the stuff. If I had taken the time to develop a sense of style, I would probably have considered that to be a blessing.
But I hadn’t.
So I started searching high and low for a replacement. Anything would do. I tried out every cream and sticky concoction I could find until I discovered one that worked somewhat. It didn’t make my hair stand up much, but it did make it paste nicely to my head, which made it a satisfactory replacement. After applying it, I took a moment to read the tube.
Self tanning lotion.
You know how your scalp, underneath the hair is usually paler than the rest of your face? Mine wasn’t. My face was quite pale – the kinda pale that teenage nerds who spend all summer inside with a book wind up sporting – and my scalp was a dark coconut brown.
Fancy.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Another funny
I heard a story a while back and thought it was funny, mostly because I’m a morbid sort of a person. You might have heard it, but…oh well. I’m going to tell it anyway because my tummy hurts today. Every now and then whatever evil, little genie I accidentally swallowed recently gives my innards (Can you have innards if you’re not a pirate?) a good SQUEEEEZE.
You see, there was this woman who came back from work early one day only to find her beloved hubby serving the woman from next door, if you know what I mean.
SQUEEEEZE.
The other woman jumped out the window and ran home, stark nekked and probably showing the other neighbours a whole new side of herself that they’d never seen before.
The wife was furious and her rage gave her almost superhuman strength. She grabbed her husband and pulled him with her out into the shed, which was home to tons of tools and a very large toolbench, fully equipped with one of those what-you-might-call’em screw-thingies where you fasten pieces of wood or whatnot to work on them (we had those in school, and I hated them. I somehow managed to spend the entire year pretending to make a candy box when I really wasn’t doing anything at all). The wife now fastened a whole other kinda wood in there, if you know what I mean. And then she removed the handle, so that he wouldn’t be able to get free.
SQUEEEEZE.
Then she got a saw down from a nail on the wall.
“Jesus, you’re not gonna cut my dick off, are you?” said the husband.
“No, of course not,” said the wife and handed him the saw. “I’m going to burn this shed down. Then you can do whatever you consider necessary.”
Hehehe.
SQUEEEEZE.
You see, there was this woman who came back from work early one day only to find her beloved hubby serving the woman from next door, if you know what I mean.
SQUEEEEZE.
The other woman jumped out the window and ran home, stark nekked and probably showing the other neighbours a whole new side of herself that they’d never seen before.
The wife was furious and her rage gave her almost superhuman strength. She grabbed her husband and pulled him with her out into the shed, which was home to tons of tools and a very large toolbench, fully equipped with one of those what-you-might-call’em screw-thingies where you fasten pieces of wood or whatnot to work on them (we had those in school, and I hated them. I somehow managed to spend the entire year pretending to make a candy box when I really wasn’t doing anything at all). The wife now fastened a whole other kinda wood in there, if you know what I mean. And then she removed the handle, so that he wouldn’t be able to get free.
SQUEEEEZE.
Then she got a saw down from a nail on the wall.
“Jesus, you’re not gonna cut my dick off, are you?” said the husband.
“No, of course not,” said the wife and handed him the saw. “I’m going to burn this shed down. Then you can do whatever you consider necessary.”
Hehehe.
SQUEEEEZE.
Friday, June 08, 2007
Tag!
I was recently tagged by Tom, but then I forgot about it. Then I remembered, and then I forgot again. Yesterday I remembered, but I got distracted by shoe shopping and a barbeque. There’s nothing to sidetrack me now (yet), so…
First I have to post the rules. Here they are:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
1) I’ve never seen an alien: except in movies, of course. There used to be lots of enormous slugs outside of my apartment in the city, and they looked as if they might have come down from a spaceship somewhere, but they probably didn’t. I’ve had some bizarre neighbours over the years, and I have some bizarre family members, but they’re most likely home-grown.
2) I live with a semi-anorexic dog: She eats like a bird. And I mean that in the she-eats-very-little-way rather than the she-eats-several-times-her-own-weight-way. It doesn’t seem to be doing her any harm, though, and it’s very friendly on my student budget.
3) I hate gardening: If gardening was a person, I would stab them with scissors, set them on fire and dance around them like an Indian warrior.
4) I have a recurring dream that I’m being chased by bears. Brown bears, polar bears, grizzlies, any kind of bear that my imagination can come up with. I once dreamt that I was chased by a moose, but that also turned into a bear eventually.
5) I’m incapable of tanning. My summer skin tone varies between ‘colourless of the crypt’ and ‘livid lobster’. If I were a vampire I would either do very well or very poorly, indeed.
6) I love shoeboxes. Whenever I was bought new shoes as a kid, my mum would always throw the boxes away. Now I’m a grown-up and I get to keep them. Except for when my mum visits and throws one out in a fit of tidy helpfulness.
7) I have no sense of direction. There was one particular mall where I used to shop once a week while I lived in the city, and I would always get lost. I never had any idea where I was or where I was going once I got past the first escalators. My first purchase once I get a real job, will be something to do with GPS.
8) I turn my water boiler on out of habit in summer. It’s not that I want boiled water it’s just something that I do without even thinking about it much. I develop this habit of flipping the on-switch whenever I walk past it during the winter months, when I drink enough tea to drown a camel, and I just keep doing it all summer long. It’s boiling right now, as a matter of fact.
I don't think I'll tag anyone today. Unless someone wants to be tagged, in which case they may consider themselves to be so.
First I have to post the rules. Here they are:
1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
1) I’ve never seen an alien: except in movies, of course. There used to be lots of enormous slugs outside of my apartment in the city, and they looked as if they might have come down from a spaceship somewhere, but they probably didn’t. I’ve had some bizarre neighbours over the years, and I have some bizarre family members, but they’re most likely home-grown.
2) I live with a semi-anorexic dog: She eats like a bird. And I mean that in the she-eats-very-little-way rather than the she-eats-several-times-her-own-weight-way. It doesn’t seem to be doing her any harm, though, and it’s very friendly on my student budget.
3) I hate gardening: If gardening was a person, I would stab them with scissors, set them on fire and dance around them like an Indian warrior.
4) I have a recurring dream that I’m being chased by bears. Brown bears, polar bears, grizzlies, any kind of bear that my imagination can come up with. I once dreamt that I was chased by a moose, but that also turned into a bear eventually.
5) I’m incapable of tanning. My summer skin tone varies between ‘colourless of the crypt’ and ‘livid lobster’. If I were a vampire I would either do very well or very poorly, indeed.
6) I love shoeboxes. Whenever I was bought new shoes as a kid, my mum would always throw the boxes away. Now I’m a grown-up and I get to keep them. Except for when my mum visits and throws one out in a fit of tidy helpfulness.
7) I have no sense of direction. There was one particular mall where I used to shop once a week while I lived in the city, and I would always get lost. I never had any idea where I was or where I was going once I got past the first escalators. My first purchase once I get a real job, will be something to do with GPS.
8) I turn my water boiler on out of habit in summer. It’s not that I want boiled water it’s just something that I do without even thinking about it much. I develop this habit of flipping the on-switch whenever I walk past it during the winter months, when I drink enough tea to drown a camel, and I just keep doing it all summer long. It’s boiling right now, as a matter of fact.
I don't think I'll tag anyone today. Unless someone wants to be tagged, in which case they may consider themselves to be so.
Monday, June 04, 2007
A lovely day for the wiggling of the toes
I’m starting to get that vacation-feeling deep inside my tummy, right underneath the ice cream, watermelons and fizzy drinks. In a couple of days it’ll probably have spread to my brain, from which it will have to be surgically removed once classes start up again, like some malignant tumour.
I’m going to grad school in the fall, you see. To Hellhole U, to be specific. The thing is that I didn’t really want to go there. I wanted to move back to the city, to where you can have food brought to you and where there is a big enough population to form a good-sized cult. But the universe had different ideas. It always does. First, I started thinking about all the stuff I’d have to haul halfway across the country, which put me off a little bit. This goes back to the lazy-thing I’ve mentioned earlier. I’m lazy. I’m also lethargic, sluggish and slothful, and I don’t like moving furniture over large distances.
Then I received my letter from Hellhole U, offering me a spot which I would have to accept by the 16th. Which is two whole days before the other schools I’ve applied to send out their letters. The thing is that I’m a sissy. The universe knows this, and tends to use it against me. The universe is very well aware that if I were to turn down Hellhole U, then not get accepted anywhere else, and have to postpone my masters for another year, I’d be forced to have a mental meltdown. I’ve seen meltdowns on movies and have always thought that they look like a lot of work. Which brings us back to me being lazy. I mentioned that, yes? So I’m going to Hellhole U.
But until then, I’m sitting outside in my garden chair with my laptop, wiggling my little toes in the air. I left the TV on inside and the sound is a bit annoying, but I’m too lazy to get off my ass to turn it off.
Some guy sounds waaay too happy as he says: “Before, we had to go to the doctor in order to remove my warts. Now we can do it at home with just one treatment.”
Idjit.
I’m going to grad school in the fall, you see. To Hellhole U, to be specific. The thing is that I didn’t really want to go there. I wanted to move back to the city, to where you can have food brought to you and where there is a big enough population to form a good-sized cult. But the universe had different ideas. It always does. First, I started thinking about all the stuff I’d have to haul halfway across the country, which put me off a little bit. This goes back to the lazy-thing I’ve mentioned earlier. I’m lazy. I’m also lethargic, sluggish and slothful, and I don’t like moving furniture over large distances.
Then I received my letter from Hellhole U, offering me a spot which I would have to accept by the 16th. Which is two whole days before the other schools I’ve applied to send out their letters. The thing is that I’m a sissy. The universe knows this, and tends to use it against me. The universe is very well aware that if I were to turn down Hellhole U, then not get accepted anywhere else, and have to postpone my masters for another year, I’d be forced to have a mental meltdown. I’ve seen meltdowns on movies and have always thought that they look like a lot of work. Which brings us back to me being lazy. I mentioned that, yes? So I’m going to Hellhole U.
But until then, I’m sitting outside in my garden chair with my laptop, wiggling my little toes in the air. I left the TV on inside and the sound is a bit annoying, but I’m too lazy to get off my ass to turn it off.
Some guy sounds waaay too happy as he says: “Before, we had to go to the doctor in order to remove my warts. Now we can do it at home with just one treatment.”
Idjit.
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