Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Cabbages deserve love too.

Cabbage.
When we think green leafy substance, our mind turns immediately to lettuce or marijuana (you dirty hippies, don't think I don't know about your tricky little games). But what about cabbage? In the swift modernization of our time, has cabbage been left out in the dark?
Remember when coleslaw was great? Now we see it as a nuisance. It gets thrown onto hamburger platters and fish and chip platters in a valiant attempt to preserve its relevance in today's society. But noone cares!! We all just ignore the coleslaw... We say "we didn't order COLESLAW, we ordered a dead cow on a bun and mutilated potatoes!"
Sneaking coleslaw onto a plate is not working, nor will it ever work.
Poor cabbage.
Only eastern europeans are really doing anything with cabbage nowadays and with the americanization of their cultures, how long will cabbage rolls last?!
And cabbage doesn't even get in on the drug wagon either. When was the last time a crazy vegan nazi protested against a super-human cabbage? They are too focused on the tomatoes addicted to steroids, or the high-maintenance strawberries that are now too perfect.
Left out in the dark again, weren't you, dear cabbage...

I think all you cabbage ignorers should be a cabbage for a day and see how it feels. It might make you think twice about bitching about coleslaw.

Septima: changing the world, one cabbage hater at a time.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Showtime


I'm in this play that at times has felt more detrimental to my education than helpful. School productions are there to give us hands-on experience and to give us a chance to work with professional theatre artists outside the classroom. But we didn't have enough time, the director gave up on a lot of really great ideas early on and it's really difficult to be in 4 classes and a job, ontop of spending 20 hours a week in the theatre. Real life is busy but not like this. This was painful. No wonder my kidney ceased to be a happy little kidney. It takes a whole lot to slow me down and my body knows this. A little head cold might knock some sense into other people, but for me, it takes a trip to a hospital and stern words from a doctor telling me to not do a damn thing for a few days.

I just got off the phone with my mother, who, as predicted, does not understand my desire to go part-time next semester. I don't have enough time to learn everything properly. I especially don't have the time to learn MY way and do assignments MY way, while remaning within the system. That requires lots of time to think. And I don't have that time this semester.

I spent September and October running from class to class, doing my homework an hour before the due date, being cranky to my roommate, learning lines every little chance I got and then running back and forth between my house and my boyfriend's.

That is not fun. I don't care if this is supposed to be the best time of your life, or whatever other bunk people tell you about university, I'm too fucking busy. I'm told to just churn out the same crap over and over again. I'm told not to crack under the immense pressure to get good grades. I'm told that jumping through little hoops is preparing me for the real world. I don't have time to live and if university is preparing me for life, I think there is something wrong with that equation.

I'm in this program because I want to get better at telling stories to people. I like seeing people stand up clapping after the story has been concluded. I like listening to the silence that happens when people don't know whether to clap or not. I know I'm going to do great things in theatre and Concordia has helped me to realize this by giving me something to protest and work against.
Anywho, enough of the bitching. I'm off to prepare for tonight's show.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

on 'not' smoking

the problem with being a non-smoker is the fact that you don't smoke.
i like smoking. i miss smoking.
i miss my favorite prop.
aside from the fact that i probably already have some sort of throat cancer i wish i still smoked.
so i could sit and have a cigarette with a glass of wine after dinner.
so i could talk about quitting school and travelling the world over coffee and cigarettes.

its been 1 hour since i had a cigarette.

before that, it was 9 whole days.

a few of those days barely count because i was sweating out a fever while dreaming delusional thoughts. i could barely tell you where my nose was, let alone bring a burning object from my hand to my mouth.

so it was 5 conscious days smoke-free and i hated them all.

its a hell of a lot easier to maintain my "i'm too good for academia" persona with a cigarette in hand.

actually, it is a hell of a lot more fun to be self-righteous while smoking.

but i'm going to get back on the stupid wagon tomorrow and requit. no more cigarettes... again. but let me tell you, it won't be fun, i am not going to enjoy myself and i am going to wish i could smoke. but i'm going to fight the urges. but i'm going to want to give in. but i won't.

i'm forever doomed to bear the title "non-smoking smoker". doomed i say.

doomed.

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Up yours, Fate!!!

Ungh.

My kidney has rejected me. It has left the rest of my body in a shaking, sweating, feverish, vomiting heap on the floor. And I'm supposed to be in a show. I should be in class. I should be at work. Instead, I am goo. Well, I was goo. I'm a bit better now. The friendly staff at my local ER took care of that. But I'm still not anywhere near healthy.

I quit my job. And I'm starting to wonder if the gods are trying to tell me not to go to school.

The first time I tried, I had knee surgery and then broke my leg and had to back in for surgery. So being crippled, I decided to postpone university for another year.

Then during my first semester, I couldn't handle the stress of having a boyfriend who needed a mother more than a girlfriend, ontop all the other crazy life stresses. Second semester I had the infamous abortion.

School was next to impossible, but I squeaked through with decent grades and salvaged relationships with my profs.

But a fucking kidney infection during the first week of October? Come on. This is getting tiresome. I'll get through the rest of the semester but I swear, if next January, some other crisis comes my way, I'm taking it as a sign and skipping town.

Skippy is what I named my evil twin. Skippy is the root and answer to all of my life's issues. Problem? Skippy says, "Skip over it!" Enjoying something? Skippy says, "Skip to the next best thing!" I might have to give Skippy some free rein if another convienently timed problem arises. I am not even enjoying school anyways.

Let's blame the disjointed feel of this post on the fact that I'm popping Gravol like candy and in a bizarre twist of events, I'm not sleeping at all. Without Gravol, I can sleep like a cat. With Gravol, I usually become comatose. I think they should just take this fucking kidney and be done with it. I have a spare. I'll be just fine.