Merry Christ...nakah?

Or whatever it is that you happen to be "celebrating" during the Silly Season. Personally, I am celebrating the fact that I don't have to go to Toronto this year to listen to snotty relatives trying to one-up each other. In fact, this year's Silly Season brings a ton of great things that I can celebrate, aside from the usual God-praising, Jesus-blessing and Mass-going that I am always taking part in during the holidays.

The best and biggest thing that I have to celebrate this year is the fact that 2005 is nearly over. If you don't think that's not a cause to celebrate, then maybe you should read up on the last year of blogging. Just to make sure that 2005 will never come again, I sent a letter to Santa Claus and will be watching the calendar on my computer veryyyy carefully to make sure it flips to 2006 and not back to January 2005. I'll have the results January First... 2005 OR 2006? Stay tuned! In the meantime, here's my list to Santa.

Dear Santa,
All I want for Christmas is to never have another 2005 again. I know you don't deliver presents to bad girls so I would like to set a few things straight: what is your take on homosexuality and abortions? I'm sure you already know those two issues came up in my life during 2005 and will greatly affect my haul this year if you follow the Church's teachings. In fact, I have a suspicion that you might be God.
You both have grey beards, at least according to Monty Python and my Christmas wrapping paper. You both supposedly see everything which quite frankly, will strike fear and reverence into every child no matter whether it's Santa, God, or your crazy grandfather telling you so. Lumps of coal or floods and plagues.... what's the difference?
If that is true, I'm screwed right out of a present this year. Anywho, as a little incentive for you, God Claus (you like? I just thought it up on the spot!), it will be a whole lot easier to be a good girl if you never make another 2005 happen ever again.
Cheers!
ps: If you do take pity on my sin-stricken heart this year and bring me something to open on Christmas morning, I would love an iPod and a vibrator. I put two items on my list because just in case you are out of iPods this year, you can always grab a vibrator. I'm sure that not too many kids will be asking for those.

I'm all set for 2006. I have made my list and checked it twice.

Lighter courseload which will bring better grades? Check.
Great boyfriend whom I adore? Check.
Better relationship with my parents? Check.
No more fucking the roommate? Check.
Birth Control Pills which when used effectively are anti-prego pills? Check.

Even if 2006 decides to be trouble, I have some pretty solid armour on.

Happy Silly Season everyone!

Welcome to hell

Winter barfed all over the city at somepoint after this actor was throwing up in my toilet last night and at some point before I nearly puked all over my cat this morning.

There is snow everywhere.

There is no escape.

My apartment is no longer safe

My roommate's boyfriend invaded my territory two weeks ago under the pretense that he was only going to stay for four days. It wouldn't be so awful if my roomie had just asked me if it was alright that he stayed for a while. Nor would it be so bad if the guy would actually be civil to me.

I have to physically bump into him in my kitchen before he mutters a single word, which usually ends up being a barely audible "sorry...".

Granted, the guy does have a damn good reason to not like me, and it's not like I want to be buddies with him, but he is not being mature in any way, shape or form. When my roomie and I had a little "incident" involving wine and an unplanned romp in the sack, it was a bad thing because, first and foremost, both of us were in relationships with other people. However, when you compare how my boyfriend, J, handled it to the way her boyfriend handled it, his ape-man status is blindingly obvious.

Their problems are theirs, not mine, just as my problems are between my boyfriend and I, and not her's. So if J can be civil to her on my turf, so can ape-man. Not to mention the problem of him eating my share of the food, or him using my computer or him leaving his DIRTY SOCKS on MY COUCH........

Ape-man has got to go. Besides, he reminds me of my last boyfriend... a general good-for-nothing who does not have much consideration for other people and who says really dumb things on a regular basis. Also, ape-man has had some pretty psychotic episodes which bear too much similarity to my ex's behaviour.

Tomorrow, I put my foot down. I will reclaim my living room, my computer and my kitchen. I will demand for reimbursement for my groceries and then, in a moment of blazing glory, I will cackle from my living room window as he shuffles away down Sherbrooke Street, all alone, to hitch hike back to whatever hole he came out of.

On all-nighters

Sometimes you go out, pockets full of speed and dance all night long.

Sometimes you go to a bar, drink your face off, and end up at some random person's house to have a one-time fuck fest all night long.

Other times you go out with the intention of having just a few beers and end up at random locations doing ridiculous things all night long.

But most of the time, when you are a student, you end up leaving everything until the last twelve hours before the due-date and end up in front of the computer all... night.... long.

But most of the time, these students, are aware of the actual due date for the assignment and spend the last twelve hours before the due date typing frantically.

Sometimes I am on time for appointments, sometimes I remember my plans and sometimes I do my laundry.

But most of the time I am late, I honestly forget what my commitments were and I rarely wash my clothes.

Most of the time I do my work during the last possible hours, usually the hours that I would rather be sleeping in my large, comfortable bed, which only seems larger and comfier when I'm sitting down the hall from my beautiful bed at four in the morning.

Most of the time, I know when my assignments are due so I can plan my schedule around them. This is very important to me. I am a woman of ritual.

example: Essay assigned October 1st, Duedate 9am November 1st. Procrastinate until 6pm October 31st. Run to library to research 7pm - 11pm. Simultaneously research and write from midnight to 8:30 am. Cab to school and hand in paper coughing from chain smoking, shaking from caffeine intake and bug-eyed from staring at the computer screen for 8 hours straight (I allotted half an hour for lighting cigarettes, refilling coffee, turning my head away from the computer screen to chug the coffee and going pee because that happens alot when you drink 2 pots of coffee in an 8 and a half hour period).

Most of the time, I get an A-range paper and I then I get ready for my next round of procrastinating.

This time, which definitely is not most of the time and I pray it doesn't turn into sometimes, I stayed up all night working on an assignment when it wasn't due the next morning. It wasn't even due the next afternoon. It was due four days later.

When you don't go to class much, the course syllabus becomes more holy and sacred than the Bible. In fact, I think it should be cast in stone. This supposed extension that was given went outside the Holy Syllabus and I was left in the dark clutching a coffee stained, softened syllabus that told me the old due date.

Thursday morning, feeling accomplished and satisfied having completed my ritual, I jolted into class coughing, shaking and much more bug-eyed than usual because I scored a Dexedrine tablet from my roommate for a touch of performance enhancement. The come down off my caffeine/Dexedrine high numbed the crushing news of the postponed due-date, so no tears were shed. That would have been embarrassing considering that most of the time students jump for joy at extensions and sometimes they simply sit in quiet relief. Crying would be extremely far from those two normal reactions, and quite frankly, I had already had enough of going out of the norm for one day.

Most of the time I feel relieved after handing in something. Sometimes I feel proud. This time I feel cheated out of what could have been a well-deserved night of sleep.

I suppose the only thing to do is continue procrastinating until the next assignment is due.