Right now, my stomach hurts a lot, so it has been a bit of the day from hell in that way. I tried to sleep for a while, but I just had strange dreams where I was playing jazz on a Piano. It sounded really good, even though I was sure I was playing the wrong notes entirely, so that was confusing. I don't usually write like this, but I just don't care. I'm back in the software industry, and I am pretty sure that I don't like my job. Pumpkin peed on my book last night, out of spite. I just ripped a hole in my bra by mistake. The weather is still cold, and O'Cow is staring at me with the sort of beady-eyed intensely that only a stuffed, alcoholic cow can. My nose ring is causing massive problems. The gas company, also, finally remembered that I owe them lots of money - so that experiment failed. My sister sent me a message and I miss her.

I cry a too much lately.

I don't feel much about pigeons one way or the the other.

Don't worry, I still smile.

But.

I need to work on doing it more, and so do you.

Like this, but with a somewhat more crazed expression!

:) :) :) :) :)

Originally published at Don\'t talk to me about life....

Tonight as I was roving the streets, as I tend to do, something didn't seem quite right. I just couldn't put my finger on it. I paused by a rubbish bin, outstretched my hand, and poked suspiciously at a layer of fake cotton snow. It was then that I put my finger on it.

There was fake snow everywhere. Apparently it's not enough that it's winter most of the year here. Even when it isn't, we feel the need to pretend like it is.

As I progressed further down the street, I made note of the cranes, cables, trucks, seedy looking men pushing carts of AV equipment, and a snow machine. Even further down the street, the fake snow turned into real fake snow. If you know what I mean.

I sometimes wonder if my entire life is destined to be lived in the midst of some movie production that I am not part of. It's as difficult to avoid the bagpipers in Toronto as it is to avoid stumbling upon a movie set. I thought Bloor street was relatively safe, but I was wrong, so very wrong.

And really, the snow, even knowing that it was fake, was kind of depressing.

I passed a truck that said, "City Concrete - Your concrete solution". It made me wonder what my concrete problem might be.

I have to go to bed soon, but I figured it might not be so bad to write something first. I haven't written in a long time. A lot is going on, but none of it is specifically thrilling. Here are some thoughts:

I really love my apartment. It is cozy, and cute, and an oasis of calm in the midst of a life that is full of confusion and worry.

I am into the third week of training at the new job. The amount of crap that I will and already am having to parse and deal with is already really stressing me out a fair bit. I wish I could be excited about it, but I'm not. I'm taking out this stress on my personal life in wacky ways that I wish I wasn't. On the positive side, I am looking forward to resolving some of my financial woes of late, and I work with some cool people. I just wish I could feel more confident about how this will all play out.

Additionally, I have finally finished putting together my application for Canadian Citizenship. I'll be mailing that all off tomorrow, and I'm pretty excited to be finally send that out. On the down side of things, it turns out the processing time for this sort of thing is a lot longer than I expected it to be. We're talking another 12 to 15 months of waiting, at least. It seems as though one must literally be in Canada for ten billion years before one may qualify for citizenship. Also, once this is in I have to notify the CIC of all status changes (the divorce will be oodles of fun, I'm sure) including if I need to leave the country for more than two consecutive weeks at a time. That's pretty lame. Boo, I say!

With all the stress of the new job, all the fun I was having starting to learn about electronics and math stuff is going rapidly out the window, as I am in no mood whatsoever to sit around on the computer after a long day of sitting around in front of the computer any more. I'm kind of sad and hoping I don't abandon it all-together, because it seems like something worth learning, but I just can't seem to handle it mentally right now. All I want to do right now when I come home is sit around and drool. Or hang out with people, or the boy. Sadly, everyone is busy. It sucks having friends with ambition.

I DEMAND SLACKER FRIENDS!

I would really like to get outside and do some hiking, sailing, or some silly sport involving the bapping of balls over nets. Alas, everyone is really too busy, and that is sad. These things are a lot more fun to do with friends. I've tried playing volleyball/pingpong/tennis/badminton by myself, and it always ends in tears.

Also, I miss my family. They are awesome, and I miss them. Something must be done about all of this. For now, I will just have to suffice with my furry friends.

Speaking of furry friends: project "Get Pumpkin to Use the Robot" is going better than I thought it might be. This previously mentioned fact is probably only exciting to me.

Originally published at Don\'t talk to me about life....

I have returned from my fun-filled Midwestern romp, and I am happy to be back in Toronto in a lot of ways, but I'm also feeling a sense of loss and loneliness that is only somewhat non-justifiable.

I had a great time in Erie hanging out with my very dear friends, but I feel as though somehow that visit was missing something, or not everything that should have been said was. Maybe I'm just PMSing, or letting annoyance/concern over a number of unrelated things overflow into my feelings about the trip right now. All I can say was that I have some of the best friends in the world, I miss them already, and I hope that they enjoyed seeing me as much as I enjoyed seeing them. I was a bit useless for most of the visit, but I think that was somewhat to be expected after the ridiculous boozefest in Cleveland.

There is some good news:

My doomsday device is now working. I would show you all a picture, but my life is pain and I have no functional camera worth mentioning. I didn't fry the LED driver chip like I was all worried that I had. I managed to put most of the circuit myself in Erie, and with one minor change and H's test code (cheating kind of, but hey) I have a crazy blinky light of doom :) The hap-hazard documentation that I made while trying to figure it all out is at http://heinous.org/wiki/Playing_with_an_8x8_Matrix_LED

It is fantastic to see H again. He makes me so happy. He took very good care of the cats for me while I was gone, and it is so nice to have someone who does such nice things for me. I'm pretty lucky on that front. Yep.

After a horrific nightmare, I have managed to confirm that Jo did not, indeed, have his life be ruined in some awful way. I sometimes let dreams concern me more than I should. Also, the fact that someone who looked suspiciously like the movie version of Lucius Malfoy was hanging out with Jo should have been a clue not to take the dream too seriously.

I found an awesome intro to electronics book at Radio Shack in Erie. Also, Mr. Evans is letting me borrow his fantastic book on engineering diagrams. I'm not sure how long this - try my hand at learning how to think like an engineer - phase is going to last, but it's good to be learning something, even if I'm pretty sure I'm not all that well suited to it.

Right now I'm sitting around with the cats trying to not be all gloomy. The video drivers on my laptop are breaking everything and I don't know how to fix it, which is one major source of annoyance. 96% of my CPU seems to belong to Xorg right now, and I am growing increasingly despondent, and quickly losing the will to live. I think it's the ATI driver being horrible, but I can't seem to get X to work at all without the driver. The original configuration that worked on install, just kills the entire display now, and I have to reboot to get video back. The same thing happens when I try just about anything else. Oh yeah, did I mention that this post would involve a thrilling rant about my laptop woes? I almost never do this, but I'm so annoyed, and so not in the mood to keep debugging this one. I just have to keep telling myself that, "All things has a cause, " and hope that my pass can provide me with some answers.

I can't believe that I'm starting a new job on Monday. I really hope things work out well. It seems like so many of the people I know who are working at this place are so frustrated with it, and I hope I haven't gotten myself into something ugly. Everyone assures me the department I am going into is fine and not filled with the same sorts of problems, but I'm not holding my breath.

I still wish I didn't have to do this.

Fortunately, I have Black Bush whiskey and two cats to console me tonight, if nothing else.

Originally published at Don\'t talk to me about life....

"All thing has a cause. Look into your pass for answer..."

Ah, the wisdom of the fortune cookie. Who can argue with this kind of logic?

So I'm somewhat de-conned and feeling slightly less annoyed at myself today, and a great deal less muddled due to copious amounts of sleep and some quality time spent on Erie' transit, which has made me realize how fantastic Toronto is! Ah angst, I seem to have so much of it lately. I don't know exactly how to fix that without moving to South America, however, so I suppose I will just muddle on.

Due to truck having electrical problems of doom, Micaela and I spent most of the day navigating Erie transit sloppily toward the mall. It's only a two hour bus ride both ways, so why not go say hi to Ruth on her lunch break? Wild times were had at Ruby Tuesday's, where I discovered something frightening...

Bottomless french fries.

Oh America. Land of the free, home of ridiculous food portions. Large is not enough, apparently we've moved onward to INFINITE french fry portions. The mind boggles. I'm pretty impressed though. As long as you have $8 and a way to get to the mall, you will never starve. There has to be a catch.

When we got home, exhausted from all that eating and sitting around on busses, I took a nap.

So there is a problem where I talk in my sleep sometimes. Micaela informed me that during my sleep this afternoon, I clearly said, "Oh em Gee." Sadly, I think I remember the point in the dream at which I said this (we were about to have a horrific car accident due to an illogical decision to switch drivers while driving down the freeway), and suspect she's probably right.

I have to go shoot myself now.

Originally published at Don\'t talk to me about life....

It's Monday. Monday is not really avoidable.

I'm feeling kind of annoyed in general about a lot of things, and am kind of worried that I've now pissed off / made of fool out of myself in a number of ways in the last several days, and there is some part of me that really wants to just go hide out in a cavern (or maybe a canyon) until everyone has forgotten what an idiot I am (and the mine is thoroughly excavated). I've been feeling more and more like that lately.

I just spent the last several days at notacon in the fantastic city of Cleveland http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysmLA5TqbIY . I saw both of the buildings. I bought some food on the street. I was in close contact with the train tracks for the train that carries jobs out of Cleveland. (It really isn't a midwestern trip without trespassing on Amtrak property.)

Now I'm in Erie, PA visiting my dearest friends in the world.

Yeah. My first time out of Toronto since last summer, and well, I don't have much to say about the thrilling destinations. But the people are fantastic!

Anyway, now that you have a vague idea of what is going on, let me proceed.

Things I'm annoyed about in specific:

1. I made a giant fool out of myself at notacon in the "Who's slide is it anyways?" competition, by kind of flashing the audience. I still don't know what I was thinking, but I'm pretty sure I just looked like a complete moron by the end of all of that. Yay being that annoying clueless girl who shows up for the first time at a con and ends up acting like a total whore. I have this bad habit of acting stupid when I'm around lots of people I don't know. *sigh*

2. I unintentionally caused the hacklab sign to break, and now feel really bad about all of that, and am stressing out about the whole thing instead of enjoying being a useless bum in Erie.

2.5. I attempted to make lunch today for Micaela and myself. Somehow, all I managed to create was something that tasted disturbingly like 24 hour truck stop food. It was pretty awful.

3. I dropped my phone today, the gorilla glue is no longer holding up. I really need to replace the thing, but I'm so fucking broke it is not funny, and the whole sign thing is certainly not going to help with that.

4. The pickup truck stopped working, just as we were heading out toward the gun-shaped mall to retrieve Ruth. Yes, Erie has a mall shaped like a gun: http://tinyurl.com/millcreekmall

5. Also, I feel like I've been run over by a truck and am worried that I've annoyed the crap out of my boyfriend and a variety of other people due to a chain of dumb reactions to various dumb situational things, and I really don't know what to do about any of it that won't make it all worse.

Anyway, Ruth has arrived home on the bus of doom, I'm going to go be social, so I don't have to feel guilty about sitting here in the kitchen ignoring everyone too because my laptop and the wifi seem to be at odds with each other. At least the world hasn't run out of coffee or nicotine.

Originally published at Don\'t talk to me about life.... » Click here « to leave any comments.

Dear Toronto Burrito Establishments,

First off, I would like to say thank you for providing your misguided versions of tasty burritos to the people of Toronto. When I first moved here, it was very sad. There were no burritos. Not even Burrito Boyz existed. Those were dark times. We wore shrouds around, and tore at our hair. I sent letters to friends in San Francisco begging them to mail me burritos packaged in dry ice.

Suddenly, after the advent of Burrito Boyz, it occurred to people that there there was, indeed, a market for burritos in Toronto. Not only was there a market, but it's a super simple business to get started and run; and indeed, mediocre burrito places started popping up willy nilly.

As of three weeks ago, there is even a burrito place less than a block away from my apartment, and I now feel as though I live in a real city.

So yeah, thanks for that.

Here's the problem. The burritos are crap. YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG. I could make a better burrito by pooping on a tortilla.

Ok, maybe it's not actually that bad. I mean, they taste alright, they're just kind of boring. Also, I have to wait entirely too long for my burrito from the point of order to the point of having delicious burrito in my hand. Making a burrito should not take much longer than making a hot dog, ok?

Let's start by defining the ideal burrito. A burrito should consist primarily of rice, beans, delicious meat (or grilled and marinated veggies/tofu/whathaveyou), and salsa or pico de gallo. A fancier burrito could additionally contain cheese, sour cream, and copious quantities of guacamole. The burrito should be then heated up, preferably with steam to produce a nice chewy exterior tortilla wrapping.

So here's a number of flaws I have found at many/most of Toronto's burrrito establishments:

1. Random boring vegetables added by default:

Lettuce? WTF are you thinking? Why would I want wilted, tasteless, leafy stuff in my burrito? Other offenders I am horrified by include green peppers, bland tomatoes that are not part of salsa, and bland jalapenos. But I think lettuce offends me the most.

2. The meat should be, by my above definition, tasty. But what do you usually get? Funny you should ask. Boring, barely flavored meats that are overly salty. Anyone ever heard of marinating grilled meat in lime, pepper, and oil? I guess not. Fail fail fail fail! What about spicy chicken? Where's the spicy chicken? And what of pork and or chorizo?. You almost never see it, and when you do, it's rarely all that tasty.

3. The rice should also be, tasty. It should have spices added to it. Maybe a bit of cilantro and tumeric? Is that really asking too much?

4. Salsa/pico de gallo should not taste like a mixture of tomatoes and onions. Again, I ask you, where's my fucking cilantro? What have you people got against cilantro? And lime? Even a mild salsa tastes pretty good when you add cilantro, lime, some garlic, and onions. And let's not even get into how hard it is to convince any burrito place to add enough salsa to balance out the other flavors in the burrito, or the fact that getting a good spicy salsa is about as easy as getting cheap gin at the LCBO.

While I'm on the topic of salsa, where in the blazing hell is my salsa bar? Why do hardly any of you have salsa bars? And my complimentary tortilla chips? BURRITOS SHOULD COME WITH COMPLIMENTARY TORTILLA CHIPS. It is like the law or something.

5. The people demand bean variety! Most places here seem to only go with a refried bean sludge that is, relatively tasteless and bland. Where are my black beans? What about non-smooshed pinto beans? I demand evidence that you did not actually poop into an insert, and smear it on my tortilla.

6. What is with this crispy grilled tortilla business? I did not order a rolled up nacho platter! Ok, it is not the greatest offender, but there are two problems with the grilled burrito approach:

a. It takes a long time. When I go to get a burrito, I want a very fast, delicious, balanced meal provided to me in about as much time as it takes me to get a hot dog. You can't do that with the grilled style.
b. The burrito does not properly congeal with this approach. It doesn't always get warm to the center.

If you must go the grilling route, it tastes a lot better if you grill the burrito in some kind of fat (lard, butter, and then vegetable oil - in order of tastiness). But really, grilling the tortilla makes it much more like a taco. This is confusing, causing me to become despondent and then to lose the will to live.

Now in case some of you are wondering what the alternative method would is; (Oh god, how sad that you would be!) I shall inform you now. Steam the burrito! Steam it and you get a delicious chewy moist burrito package that is wonderful in every way! Steam! Steam! Glorious steam! Do it. And, it's faster.

7. Ok, we're getting into the non-base elements here, but you manage to even screw up basic things like cheese, guacamole, and sour cream. Although these elements are harder to screw up, it seems that the guacamole is rarely that tasty, and even if it is, when added, there is never enough for me to feel like I actually got any. The same proportion issues occur when sour cream is added. We're talking about proportion here. The elements of a delicious burrito have a fine balance. A burrito should not have too much rice and beans, or even meat, and lose the taste of the other elements. A little sprinkle of cheese? A tiny squirt of sour cream or guacamole? I sob for the future generation. Isn't it sad enough that we took away their dangerous teeter totters and merry-go-rounds?

There is probably more I could say, but I think that this list accurately summarizes my major complaints.

Thank you for your attention. Stop making boring burritos. Also, some agua fresca would be delightful.

Your patient, but frustrated consumer.
Leah

In other news, today was my last day of work at the red stick. It was delightful. I got my revenge for the fruit scoop fiasco, and feel pretty good about that. I'll have to explain some other time.

Tomorrow I leave for Ohio, and then, most likely, Pennsylvania for some random amount of time, returning before starting my new job. (Yes, I am a masochistic vacationer.)

Also, I have been experimenting with cat pheromones, and there is an Irish fiddler outside my window.

Originally published at Don\'t talk to me about life....

They're like pussy-cats. Just more annoying. Three just went by my window in the snow. I don't really know what to make of anyone who has more than one Pomeranian - let alone three. I guess that'll just have to be a lesson to them.

The last couple days I've been feeling like crap, but only mildly so. Thusly, I've been rather frustrated with myself as I'm not feeling terribly productive, I keep wanting to do nothing but take extended naps, even though I'm not that tired, and so forth. My current theory is that it probably has to do with the bi-polar weather we've been having, combined with a lot of processing of changes that may soon be coming, and ongoing current financial stress. But that's just my theory.

I guess the major thing that should be announced to the world in general is the fact that I have decided to store all of my worldly possessions somewhere in Indiana, build a life raft out of old water bottles, and float around in the lake until I reach some small town or community of houseboats, and then proceed to live there as a bum for the rest of the summer, should it ever arrive.

So that's not exactly true, even if it is close.

The real news is that I have sold out, officially.

I have a new job that I will be starting toward the end of this month at the place that nearly everyone I know who does computer stuff in Toronto already works for. Goodbye lame, barely enough to survive service bar income - hello somewhat more reasonable income producing desk job in a field that I completely burnt out on and don't know if I'll every really be that interested in again. (That sentence was intentionally run-on, so that if read aloud, you feel breathless by the end of it.)

I think this is a good move in a positive direction for me. I really need more stable work in my life, and the economy is killing the service industry here pretty effectively. This will solve a great deal of issues that I have had. For one thing, I'll be able to afford luxury items, such as food, underwear, my tax bill, and soap again. For another thing, the job has many advantages over my last several technical jobs, which I don't really feel like listing here, but which will hopefully cause me to not want to pull my hair out and join a nunnery every three hours. Balding nuns are no fun at parties either.

So this is a practical thing to do. It allows me to stay in Toronto, maybe still do some short-term traveling, and perhaps even save up a bit for my next big crazy scheme.

I will say, it's a little difficult to get super excited about it all at this time, which I find somewhat sad. The practical thing to do is rarely easy to get excited over. It kind of reminds me of the time I was trying to get all excited about moving to North Carolina and working for IBM (that didn't go really well either). Big life changes that aren't that exciting are kind of disappointing to me, and I'm having a hard time mentally getting around that. In fact, one might say, I'm feeling a little bit disappointed in myself, while at the same time being proud of myself for getting the job. It's confusing, to say the least. The disappointed in myself bit just comes from the fact that it seems like my attempt to do something wildly different with my life has kind of failed, and it seems like I've come full circle. I suppose I've learned a lot in the process, and I've got plenty of living in me yet, so I shouldn't beat myself up too much. But saying that, and really believing it are kind of two different things (Like thinking a Pomeranian is cute vs. enjoying barbecued Pomeranian).

I guess in the end, I really don't know if I'm ready to go back to doing this kind of work, but I'm hoping for the best. Who knows, I might even enjoy it. But it's all just wild speculation at this point.

I can say I'm going to miss working on my feet, working with people who seem, in some ways, more "real" to me, and the minimal job-related stress. I'll have to start thinking about what I eat, forcing myself to exercise, buying insane ergonomic keyboards, contemplating PDAs, getting up earlier in the morning (*sob*) and various other annoying things that you have to do when you work a desk job. Ug.

I start on the 27th. I've already given notice to my current job, and am hoping if there is any way in hell that I can afford it, that I can go off for a few days between the end of work at the Red Stick and the start of work at A Non-scary Competitor.

I am now going to return to my wild plans of the day. Next up, mending! Woo. One of these days I'll be able to afford new socks...

Originally published at Don\'t talk to me about life....

Right now, I'm trying to figure out how in the hell people can manage to maintain a social life, a few interesting hobbies, work stuff, and not go completely insane and never have any time to just chill out. I feel like I am constantly stressing out about keeping in contact with people, getting out and seeing people, etc. And it is all so overwhelming. There are lots of people I wish I could get to know better, be better friends with, etc. But it can't be right to be actively frustrated that your social life is competing with your sleep / hobby / work schedule?

I guess what I mean to say is that I want to hang out with people, develop better relationships, and show that I care. But I struggle with how to pay attention to all my friends without it feeling like a burden. Hanging out with people should be fun and something you want to do right? Not something you stress out about not doing enough of?

I seem to do best with a few close friends, and keeping everyone else at arms length. Sadly, the way social stuff has evolved for me over time, I find that there are more and more awesome people who have come into my life that I want to be better friends with / keep in touch with. But I don't actually cope well with maintaining relationships with tons of people. It stresses me out so much. But I don't want to let go of, or ignore anyone in my life who I think is cool.

So in the end, I guess if I could post a message to all of the amazing people in my life that I feel as though I do so little for, it would be this:

I love you all. I am sorry I am not the best at always being around or paying attention to you, but please know that you are appreciated, and I will get to you some month. Please take a number. Now serving 432.

Oh, and I sure as hell am not caught up on LJ.

In other news, I have picked up another hobby, which is playing with this device called an Arduino. It's a microcontroller that is easily programmable to do various nifty things with digital and analog inputs and outputs. It's pretty neat stuff, and since I know next to nothing about electronics, I am hoping this will be a good way to learn something: maybe not much, but something. Now, if only I could find time to play with it and still maintain my social life, my real life, and my sanity...

Like I need another hobby that I don't have time or money for... But seriously, I hope that I do manage to stick with it and learn some stuff. I feel like such an idiot compared to so many people I know who do this kind of thing, but it's better to be a dangerous idiot, than not.

I am pretty sure things went bugger up with an interview I about two weeks back. It is too bad, because my job is really draining me in many ways, and I am so tired of trying to figure out what is the next step in improving the situation. It's like I work for a vampire. But not the sexy kind who ties you up while playing classical music on one of the world's finest record players. The other kind.

Tonight I am trying to work up the energy to call a bunch of people that I feel bad about not having talked to in a while, in addition to trying to make plans. Making plans would be a lot more fun if I wasn't always so worried about the financial cost of such plans. This being broke all the time thing is not as fun as it is cracked up to be. It's been so long since it's been this bad for me, I'm really starting to remember why I got all excited about making money the first time around again. I just see things from both sides now. It's so hard to strike that balance between "work consumes life but have lots of money" to "work has little to do with life but have no money to have life".

Er, right, I was making new efforts to be cheerful.

I had a fantastic day on Sunday, with lots of looking at hardware, which ended up in a drive with H to Home Depot in the hotwired Fiat. I am constantly amazed that people put up with me and my addiction to ancient cars that I don't really even know enough about to justify the fact that I drive them.

H is awesome, by the way, and seems to put up with lots of crap from me. Well, I guess just about everyone in my life does, but those closest to me get an extra steamy pile sometimes. But seriously, he helps keep my head level, and is a good friend. Also, he inspires me to do completely random things that I would have never thought myself inclined to do, so that's kind of awesome.

Stuff in personal life is intense in other ways too. I guess it all sums up to: it is still hard dealing with what seems to be the end of a marriage. It wears on the soul. It wears on the heart. Nothing is ever simple.

Finally, I seem to be having more and more BLATANT ABSENTMINDED FAUX PAS. I'm not sure what is going wrong with my brain, but I dearly hope I am not turning into my father. Here are two of the more humorous ones.

--

My co-worker, A, says something along the lines of, "I don't know if that spouts going to stay on." (We are discussing the cap on a bottle of Absolut, which has a different sized mouth than most liquor bottles. I have been trying various sizes of spouts (misappropriated from our less-used bottles) on the bottle in question - as suddenly we are using the flavored vodkas _a lot_ with our (SURPRISE!) new drink menu (No one tells me anything.)

I say, "I think this one will work fine. Let's see!", and shake the bottle upside down, squirting vodka all over the place.

I still don't know what I was thinking.

At least the spout stayed on, or I would have wasted a lot more vodka.

--

The other night, I am at H's house, where I plan to continue putting the finishing touches on the software upgrade for my laptop (which has been annoying to have to do, but it had to be done). I brought over all kinds of stuff to work on this. I get all set up, plug in the laptop power and network, and start working.

A bit later, I decide I should probably plug in the laptop power. I look in my bag for the power adapter, but it is not there. I become very angry at myself for forgetting it. I contemplate running home to get it. I am all annoyed. I decide to keep working and see how fast the laptop looses power before making a final decision, as I don't recall what it's battery life is like as I almost never run it long on the battery.

Nearly half an hour later, the laptop is still reading 100% power. I figure something must be wrong with the new OS and it's power management stuff, which further annoys me. In fact, after checking the power status even has the audacity to say that AC power is connected! Then, I check the laptop. AC power, uh, is connected. It had been plugged in the whole time, explaining why I couldn't find my power adapter in my bag. It was attached to my laptop.

Ok, so I thought it was funny. Good thing I didn't go home and look for it. Boy would I have been angry.

Problem 1: I've been ranting a lot lately, both online, and just in general to anyone who I don't think is going to throttle me soon, about how grumpy I am with my situation of late, lack of direction, thrilling career or projects, knowledge, etc.

Problem 2: I am in a very real situation where I need to find some way to improve my income, or drastically change my lifestyle fast so that I don't head down a self-destructive water slide of doom!

Problem 3: Lately I've been letting things that should be relatively trivial in the grand scale of things really stress me out and upset me.

Result 1: I haven't been very fun to be around. Even I am not enjoying hanging out with me all that much. All I do is whine about work, work options, etc.

Result 2: I have to find a solution to the financial situation as soon as possible. It will probably not be cool enough / exciting enough for me to be super thrilled with it. I'm going to just have to deal with that somehow. (Sometimes I wish I could just smack some sense into me.)

I am thinking lately, that part of my problem is that I'm too bleeding ambitious combined with the fact that I am too inclined to be only happy in extreme situations. Mediocrity for pussies, and all of that.

Even worse, I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm simply not good enough to actually be anything but, in my own eyes, mediocre.

I feel that I can't be happy just doing something that I know how to do, but am not that interested in, or feel is inferior in some way / not hardcore enough. I also have what may be an unrealistic expectation that I can be some kind of superstar, doing something really neat and cool and difficult that everyone will admire and love me for.

So I have to conclude, that being too ambitious is evil. It makes you want to be all edgy and causes you to never be happy with just doing what you know you can do pretty easily. At the same time, the idea of trying to not being ambitious, to me feels, feels too much like selling out. So I find myself in this odd catch 22.

My attitude seems to be really warped though lately. I see my friends and even random people who are doing awesome, clever, entertaining things; and, instead of thinking, "Now there's a really cool person!" I think, "Why am I so incapable of being as awesome as that person?" Then I get all angry at myself and start sulking. Then I get all down on myself for not being as brilliant, clever, fun, whatever.

This is a horribly negative and childish way of looking at things.

All I can conclude is that I need to do whatever it takes to once again become comfortable and happy with who I am. Even if that means that I have to be happy knowing that I'll never be the superstar that I seem to think I should be.

I think my ego is really fucked up right now: after all the shit that has gone down in the last couple years, I have lost faith in my core self as good. I used to be able to maintain a much more cheerful and upbeat attitude, even in the face of much lameness. Through my teenage years and beyond, I used to pray every night that I would be able to remain cheerful, regardless of what happened. And you know, I think focusing on cheerfulness as a goal really made a difference. So maybe that's what I need to do now.

Of course, you can't just romp around being all fake-y happy either, and I did a fair bit of that too. Everyone always said that I was "wearing a mask" and that I couldn't possibly be really happy. That always made me so angry, because maybe there was some truth to it, but I really wasn't all that unhappy and it was my only coping mechanism for so many crappy things in my life at that time. So later in life, I started trying less hard to have a positive attitude all the time. To be more real, as it were.

I'm wondering if I've let the pendulum swing too far...

If life sucks, but you don't have a lot of power or control over your options for various reasons, you have to just find ways to be happy despite maybe not being in the ideal situation. Even if all you are doing is maintaining your sense of humor, writing dark moody poetry on the parts of the beer fridge that only you ever see while cleaning, and not always being responsible and clever. Hopefully, this sort of attitude will help things get even better and better.

Will it solve the ambition problem?

Probably not. I think I'm permanently wired that way, and that it would be wrong to try to deny that.

Will it make the problem less of a problem?

I hope so.

At least maybe it will lead to less lame sulking and annoying journal posts.

So that is my goal. I think it is easier said than done, but I'm going to try to be happier dammit! I will be happy if it kills me! (And several others!)

I decided all this on the subway tonight on my way home from a really lame day at work. Shortly after deciding to be happy, I realized I missed my stop and had to go wait in a freezing cold station to get turned back around again. Happiness was eluding me already.

Wish me luck.

Jo came over Saturday and helped me devise a semi-permanent hot-wiring solution for the Fiat, until I sort out what to do about trying to get it re-keyed.I now start my car by touching various wires together, and then turn it off by yanking them apart. If only I could say this was the first time I have sunk to such ghetto car starting tactics. I was really relieved that picking the gas cap was easy as well. Now only can I start the car, but I can also put gas in it! I've ordered some key blanks and I guess we'll just see where we go from there. So yay for that. It's one less thing to stress out about, if nothing else.

What I really wish is that I had a bunch of jalepeno poppers - and a Ruth.

I glided (it seems there should be a word like glid) down the escalator into Whole Foods today. It was all I could do, as I approached the check-out lanes, to resist the urge to walk to the end of one where a pile of groceries was accumulating, and start bagging them. It is amazing the instincts that can still kick in - long after a six month stint as a grocery store cashier 13 years ago. The next thing I did was pause, longingly, in front of dozens of baskets of glistening, freshly roasted, expensive, coffee. Through sheer force of will, I sidestepped to the right, and plodded down the pet food isle, where I picked up a smaller bag than I would have liked, of overpriced cat food.

I wasn't in the mood to go all the way down to the store that I know will have the cat food that I wanted today; but ye gods! That meant that I had to go to Yuppie Central to get it.

As I rounded the end of the pet food isle, I stopped dead in my tracks again, trying to will myself not to veer toward the giant pile of delicious, over-priced cheeses. I actually (I'm not lying) nearly burst into tears.

This is why I don't go to Whole Foods very often.

It was a lovely walk home. The sunshine and weather is pretty freaking nice today, and I like walking down Bloor between Avenue and St. George. It makes me feel as though I live somewhere truly grand.

Speaking of grand, the only down side of walking that way is that I always pass by the piano store. Dear sweet all-that-is-holy, I really want a piano. I've been craving some piano time lately. It has been ages since I've had a chance to play at all. If I were to win the lottery today, I would buy a downtown property that was large enough to live in, and to contain a pub. I would then put a grand piano in it. I would also go back to Whole Foods, and buy all the cheese, just to deprive yuppies of cheese.

It has been a bit since I last wrote, regarding my financial woes and various things that I was investigating.

So far, all that has come of my various efforts is that I trained as a hostess this week, so I could pick up a couple hostess shifts to increase my hours at work. An ideal solution to my problems? Not by a long stretch. Having more hours will be helpful, if nothing else. This week kind of backfired a bit, however, as we were much busier than we normally are. My week was more than 50 hours by the end of it, and we're not even counting the time I had to spend waiting between shifts on my splits. To say that I was completely exhausted and nearly on the verge of tears by last night would be an understatement. My ass is still sore.

I took the written test for the hostess qualification this morning before the Whole Foods invasion. I think I did fine. Oh joy. Hostessing. It has been years since I had such a job. Mostly I just cringe every time I have to answer a phone. At least it's just two shifts a week. Also, I get to dress like a ninja.

Yeah.

Now I'm going to make my bed, clean up the flat a bit, finish my laundry, and maybe break out the accordion. My life, it is so thrilling today I can hardly stand it. I have already portioned off most of my free time next week for various catching-up-with-people type thingies. I suppose I should enjoy my free time while I've got it.

DEAR GOD STOP I WANT A PIANO STOP AND TO SEE SOME MOUNTAINS STOP KTHANKSBYE

You know that annoying Facebook meme that's been going around? The one where people tag you in a note with a list of twenty-five random things about themselves, and you are supposed to feel obligated to make one for yourself and then tag even more people back? Well, Ruth recently, to my extreme amusement, set her Facebook status to, "Rufus isn't going to give you 25 random things, so quit tagging me already :)"

I tried, but I could not resist creating a note with 25 random things about Ruth. I tagged her in it - at once. After I finished, I laughed maniacally for about two solid minutes. There are a lot of things that I've been wanting to write about, but I just wasted a good fifteen minutes of my life creating a meme, specifically to annoy Ruth; thusly, I feel obligated to repost it here:

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about Ruth. At the end, choose some random amount of people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. This is all for her own good.

(To do this, go to "notes" under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.)

1. My favourite types of clothing are those which are black and transparent.
2. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than being woken up at 3:30 in the morning by a drunken, gothed-out Leah. Especially when she demands that I get up at once, and make her cheese grits.
3. My family used to go to a church that was really more of a religious cult. Look up Hobart Freeman some time. I used to be able to refer to the Glory Barn, without even cracking a smirk.
4. My favourite musician of all time is Elton John.
5. I quote Disney Cartoons more than you might ever realize. MUFASA MUFASA MUFASA!
6. I have, in my lifetime, laid hands on a bus and prayed for it to start again. Even more disturbing, perhaps, is the fact that it did.
7. I grew up in one of those newspaper-delivering families. I had a paper route for years, which I suckered my dearest friends (also known as suckers) into assisting me with.
8. I didn't get my driver's license until two years after I legally could: Leah drove me everywhere, I wasn't in a rush.
9. I am half Irish, and half German.
10. Somewhat related to number nine above, although I have now been a vegetarian for years, I don't ever count corned beef as meat.
11. I have trespassed on Federal property regularly for many years, and still continue to do so to this very day.
12. There once was a warrant issued for me. I won't specify the details, but it has nothing to do with trespassing.
13. At the age of 14, my I.Q. was astronomical.
14. Leah, for whom I love making cheese grits, and I first truly bonded over a forced, shared, bathing experience.
15. One of my many goals in life is to move to Canada, and make cheese grits for Leah.
16. As a child, I wore my hair in long braids.
17. My bedroom, in high school, was one time so messy that it was a 3 foot deep mire of random stuff. It was so bad, that Leah cleaned it in a fit of rage. Ever since then, Leah has been able to do no wrong in my parents eyes.
18. I was pulled over an interrogated by the police three times in one evening. One explanation for why we were going in reverse, in a jeep, on a State road, at 50 mph., was that "We needed to go back to the Grocery store, because our courage melted." There was a candle on the dash board, which had been named "courage".
19. I have operated as a roadie for various bands, more than you might think. I am fully capable of assembling a drum kit, amongst other things.
20. I used to never drink beer. True story. I blame Leah for this habit.
21. I am better at juggling dates than most people. I have been told that it shows powerful, untapped, multitasking skills.
22. I know a song about buzzards that would really annoy you.
23. I was once engaged.
24. It is impossible to count how many hours, and indeed years of my life, that have been spent sitting around at Steak and Shake.
25. I assisted in destroying the engine on my parents car, on New Years Eve, in a blizzard, with a Swiss exchange student and Leah, on the way back from Chicago. No, we hadn't asked for permission to take the car.
25b. One fight I had with Leah had to do with a time when: I told someone that putting a giant stack of ice-coated twigs into our clawfoot bathtub (which happened to also contain Leah's laundry) was a good idea.

As I was leaving subway car 5745 today to enter Spadina, Spadina Station, I noticed a few things. Firstly, I noticed that I was on Subway 5745, as there was a large red sign with white numbers informing me of that fact. They really should think about replacing those signs with billy bass that sing out the car number with a country twang, but I digress. Next to our sign declaring our subway car to be 5745, was a black bumper sticker, with white print that read, "THERE IS NO HOPE". Next to that there was a no-smoking sign.

I'm not sure why this all seemed significant, but I now have a rather unsettled feeling that I should be able to figure out what it all means, and am somehow missing it.

Is it a message from God? A dire warning to quit smoking from the void? Should I start worrying about people with severe Jansen's metaphyseal chondrodysplasia? Should I be on the lookout for Dwarfs who smoke?

As I walked down the long hallway that divides the North end of Spadina, Spadina Station from the south end of Spadina, Spadina Station, I passed a pile of pennies. The pile of pennies only caused greater distress. I wasn't in the mood to pick up all the pennies. I was especially not in the mood for a penny collecting spree from the questionable floor of Spadina, Spadina Hallway. I had already seen one penny this morning, and had picked it up, so I passed the pile by. However, the event merely tacked an additional sense of twilightzoneishness on to what has already been a pretty weird set of days.

I have been wandering too and fro around town attempting to whittle down further a few things from my massive todo list of doom. I am still stuck with this out of sync feeling today. I wonder if that is just what happens when a place becomes too familiar. It has gotten to a point where Toronto has become so familiar that I am merely sleep-walking through this town, as I do things.

Life people, life is what happens when you're not doing what you normally do, or that which you have to do. Familiarity breeds contempt. Potatoes have to be cooked before they become moldy.

None of this has anything to do with me disliking Toronto. It's just been weird lately.

Random observation number one:

I have lived in this city for four years. Why is that I still frequently find myself roaming the streets of the city feeling like it is just some place I'm visiting for a month? Today was one of those days where I felt very out of sync with Toronto in general. Maybe part of it was because I was lugging around a suitcase everywhere I went. Maybe part of it was the fact that I am drained from a weekend of equal parts stress and awesome. Maybe part of it was the fact that so many people were here visiting, that I feel like maybe I'm just visiting too. I'm not exactly sure what it was, but the feeling happens to me rather often, and it is kind of creepy in that tourist in my own life sort of way. It is not that things are unfamiliar. I know where most of my stuff is (excluding my beloved Fiat keys), I know what end of the train I want to be on to get to Spadina, Spadina Station, and I know what isle toilet paper is in in my closest Shoppers. How can it still all be so foreign?

I'm going to chalk it up to the oh so glamorous bucket of eggnog that was consumed last night.

Random observation number two:

This has not been a good week for my glassware. I have lost three pint glasses, and three coffee mugs over the course of the past several days. Most of this has not even been due to drunken revelry or anything. I'm going to chalk that up to tired clumsiness and the fact that many people have been in and out of my place during the past few days, so not everything in my kitchen is where I expect it to be. I operate in my space much in the same way a blind person does. I expect everything to remain as I last left it, and move quickly without looking. I suspect this is not very good when you live in a small space and appreciate your glassware. Out of pity for my missing Denny's mug (the last of my remaining coffee mugs), Matt presented me with seven coffee mugs today before the HH left town for good. I've already broken two of them.

Great losses of the week:

1. My Fiat keys. How this pains me, I cannot even begin to describe.
2. My drivers license. (I should probably go check the car is still there, eh?)
3. My Denny's mug. This upsets me nearly as much as the Fiat keys.

Great invasions of the week:

The third annual Rechristmas celebration with the horrible horde went down in the past few days. Despite a lot of stressing out over the insane logistics involved in planning everything, (Jo and I no longer live together and are also both seeing other people), it was still a wonderful time spent with some of the best damned friends a person could ever hope for.

We sang songs about lighting Ruth on fire. We ate and ate and ate. We drank coffee like Russian truck drivers. We invented the myth of Hankrill, the giant vampire parakeet. We played euchre (but not, perhaps, as much as we have in Rechristmas past). There was the (nearly mandatory) visitation of Active Surplus. Someone (Mr. H. this time around) got a piercing. And my apartment was renamed to, "Spadina, Spadina Manor."

The giant culmination of the event landed us all partying in Josephstan where the was random wall painting, opening presents under the Christmas ladder, and a giant bucket of eggnog. No really. Nothing says class like a couple gallons of boozy, homemade, eggnog in a bucket. The party was not a massively wild one, but enjoyable nonetheless. The eggnog was devoured.

Today we even managed to acquire a Simon to hang out with, whom we took to breakfast. Somehow shortly after that, Simon, Ruth, Matt, Micaela and I all ended up taking a giant group nap at Spadina, Spadina Manor. I suspect it is a sign you're getting old when a satisfactory afternoon spent with friends involves a group nap.

In other news, Senor H. and my cow have headed off to England. I hope they have fun. O's never been to the U.K.

Finally, I have been "chalking up" a great deal of things lately. Luckily for me, I have a box of chalk.

So.

So. (More dramatically, but not dramatic enough for an exclamation point.)

It would appear that I am dating someone now. This is rather shocking, even to me. Now that I have written this sentence, I am going to take an hour nap. After this aforementioned nap, I am hopeful I will be able to write something coherent about all the things that are going through my head as a result of, um, this unexpected turn of events.

100 RECURSIVE SUBROUTINE NAP(hour,long,maybe)
...
105 END SUBROUTINE NAP ! 90 Minutes

( So I had this random dream )

Now back to the previous statement, in which I announced that I am now dating someone. Well, I am sure that I can't really fully express how strange it is to find myself doing that, and all the stuff that is racing madly through my head as a result. To be dating someone is not something that I expected to want to do at this point, and definitely something that seems very risky.

( The self-analytical breakdown )

Is that rash and crazy? Maybe. Am I rash and crazy? Always.

I just had an awesome weekend hanging out with Mr. H. I really needed a weekend as awesome as this.

In conclusion, I would like to say. Yeah awesome happy bunnies fluffy super skipping fun fun fun yeah!

This morning I woke up and thought, "Hmmn, that's strange. Why didn't my alarm clock wake me?"

Then I thought, "I wonder what time it is."

Then I checked the time and the following thought popped into my bleary mind. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!"

Yep, I was supposed to be at work. Yep, I surely was. Yep, I wasn't at work, because of massive alarm clock fail for no good reason whatsoever. I then started searching for my glasses, and called work to apologize profusely. My co-worker Dina had managed to come in and cover me. This meant that they just needed me to come in and close. I continued to search for my glasses and feel horribly guilty. I knew that my lateness was going to cause poor Dina to work a split four days in a row. Working a split four days in a row is really, really sucky. Not only was upset about inconveniencing my co-worker and friend, but I was also upset because I normally pride myself on not being that person who is unreliable.

I concluded that my glasses were also lost. I grabbed another pair, and wandered back to my bed/desk to log into my computer/life-support-device. My keyboard; my beautiful, expensive, ergonomic keyboard of doom had finally bit the dust for good.

What a surprise, and the day was going so well.

I gave up on that computer, and, at least, managed to use my laptop to find the phone number for my doctor. Due to massive normal schedule shift changes this week, I had to reschedule a doctor's appointment. I called the doctor. They weren't answering. I left a voicemail and decided to see if going back to sleep for another hour would lead to the day starting off a bit better the second time around.

Upon waking for the second time, I got myself ready for work (running somewhat behind but not too bad). After consuming a jug of coffee, I went down to the store to pick up smokes, as I was down to just one. Guess what? The store near me is now permanently out of the only tobacco in Canada that I consider to be worth smoking. What a freaking surprise.

Actually, I knew this was coming. The Canadian government has decided that American Spirits need to now be in a hard pack to be approved for import. I knew the day was coming that the store next door would run out (they had even warned me), but why did it have to be today?

I smoked my last cigarette mournfully in front of the subway entrance, wishing that today, of all days, was not the day I was going to be out of smokes. I was also still feeling like a giant douchebag for my work attendance failure.

I entered the subway, still a little behind time-wise, but not terrible. And then? And then I could not find my metropass. I frantically ran back into the apartment, where luckily I found my metropass. I hurtled myself madly back in the general direction of the subway.

Fortunately, I made it to work with enough time to not be late. Unfortunately, upon arriving in the changing room, it occurred to me that I was not wearing the correct work uniform shirt. This was not a huge surprise to me. At this point, it was clear, it was just going to be one of those days.

Things got somewhat better after arriving at work. No one noticed (or at least mentioned) my work shirt issue. Dina did not seem horribly pissed off at me and even my manager seemed somewhat sympathetic. While on her break, Dina went to my backup cigarette vendor, who I happen to know has been stockpiling American Spirits (he was the one who explained the distribution issue to me when I first discovered it). I have decided to marry Dina. It was so slow that Dina got to go home pretty early, and I spent most of the evening cleaning all sorts of strange things.

I cleaned the ceiling of the beer fridge. I cleaned the sinks. I cleaned all the bottle tops. I cleaned the tap heads. I cleaned the wine room floors. I cleaned the ice well drain under the cold plate. I unscrewed and cleaned the top of the espresso machine. I cleaned under the espresso machine. I cleaned beside the espresso machine. I nearly electrocuted myself doing that. Massive sparks. It was very dramatic.

I screwed in the plate covering the electrical outlet for the espresso machine.

It was so dead, that I should have been done at 9:30. But management kept giving me the run-around on leaving, so I just kept cleaning and polishing things. It got to the point where there was really nothing else to do at all. So I hunted down management and let them know that. They still gave me the cold shoulder for a bit. Soon I found out why.

I got to sit down with management and be written up for my lateness of that day. Also, I was told they were most likely going to deny one of my time off requests. I was told that because I had been late, they had the right to not allow me any time off at all, but that because they really liked me and I do my job really well they weren't going to take it out on me, even though they could if they wanted to. They also went on about how since I hadn't been at the restaurant for three months yet, I was only technically allowed 2 days off a month anyway. That was news to me.

It honestly wasn't that bad, but I hate being in the position of being the _bad_ employee, and I felt terrible.

So I left work feeling terrible.

My trip home was relatively uneventful, except that I was totally screwed over by the TTC twice in a row, but that was (given the sort of day it was) to be expected.

I arrived home, and there was a tasty treat waiting by the door of my apartment. Completely unexpected, and completely wonderful.

I burst into tears.

Life is awesome.

Thank you 2009 for letting a crappy day, full of bad luck, still end in an amazing way.

I found myself ringing in the new year in fine style. And by fine style, I mean I was standing in a massive puddle of raw sewage, my pants rolled up to reveal my neon striped knee-socks, polishing wine glasses.

Callan and I made the most of being stuck at work on New Year's Eve, at any rate. For awhile, we had what seemed to be a very wise plan. It was to do a shot of espresso every hour of our shift until midnight.

I gave up on that plan around 8PM, when it occurred to me that I was likely to have a heart attack, or at the very least smash every single glass in the service bar to bits. I seem to not be handling caffeine well again lately. I suppose this means I'll have to cut back. But boy is January a terrible time to be giving up coffee, so I doubt I'll be doing that.

At any rate, most of the evening we managed, despite the shittiness (literally!) that abounded, to keep our spirits up. It was a rough night, but we survived, for the most part. The sewage backing up, however, well that did put rather a damper on things. It smelled atrocious. I had brought festive party hats and plastic saxaphones. But festive hats and saxaphones can only do so much to keep yourself distracted from the fact that you are spending New Years, at work, in a puddle of raw sewage.

The evening improved after leaving work. It couldn't go anywhere but up.

It was too late to get up to the Hog to see people like I had been hoping to, so we opted to wander by the Imp instead. Half way there, it occurred to me that I had lost my cell phone. I sent Callan to the pub and ran back to work. Fortunately, the phone was still in the changing room. Right there 2009 is already improving on 2008.

I had a number of other things that I wanted to write about, but I'm feeling rather brain dead after the silly amount of beer that I consumed at the Imp. I would like to say that I am hopeful that this coming year will be better than the last two years. The fact that I have hope at all is already an improvement. There is still a lot to deal with, and I still have a number of regrets, but I am looking forward to moving forward.

So let us boldly go where this year takes us. I wish you all love, adventure, freedom, fulfillment, health and peace in 2009.

Leah's List of Helpful Tips:

7. Make sure no one is around _first_ before entering walk-in beer fridge and exclaiming dramatically, "So, we meet again rack of rib racks."

Which is, exactly what it is. A giant rack of racks of ribs that the kitchen likes to wheel into the beer fridge during busy periods to make it easy to get at backup trays of ribs for the kitchen. It is the bane of my existence as it is always in my way at very inopportune moments, such as when I have to change a keg during the middle of a rush. And now, now a source of embarrassment. Ah well, I knew eventually people at work would discover my tendency to talk animatedly to inanimate objects.

The rickety cart that Jo bought in Chinatown last year, which is now in my possession, is exactly big enough to squeeze a two-four of beer into. Coincidence? I think not.

In Spanish, the translation of "Bake and Store" according to my new casserole dish, is "Hornear y Guardar". I find this to be awesome. I am, perhaps, a bit too easily amused.

I have found out that soon American Spirits tobacco will no longer be imported to Canada. Doom! Now I'm going to have to pick up an opium habit for sure.

Ok, enough with the random statements.

I have been notified that I will be working on New Years Eve. *Shakes fist angrily at lame job* I suppose this means I need to go out and acquire party hats. I wonder exactly how much trouble I get into if I bring in my own bottle of booze with which Callan and I will become wasted. Probably quite a bit. I have made note of the fact that no where in our employee handbook does it actually mention there being an issue with us drinking at work... The fools!

You see, New Years eve used to mean something for me. For years, something interesting always happened on it. Really.

1997/1998 - The Great Chicago Car Exploding and Hitchhiking with Swiss Guy followed by Diner Shootout in Indiana Incident
1998/1999 - Discovery that I Lived on the Rose Bowl Parade Route Combined with Hooking up with the (then) Man of my Dreams
1999/2000 - The Apocalypse that didn't happen in Reno Despite the Fact That I Was Proposed to by the (then) Man of my Dreams
2000/2001 - New Years Eve with Insane San Francisco Ravers, Lots of Facepaint
2001/2002 - Dublin with ex Man of my Dreams who I Discovered Grew up in a Castle and Nearly Got Back Together with again (No the Castle had nothing to do with it)
2002/2003 - Peruvian New Years Eve Involving a Surprising Number of Llamas and Streamers
2003/2004 - Shibuya, Tokyo Invasion with Crazed Brit and Random Navy People
2004/2005 - Montreal Invasion near the Beginning of Road Trip of Doom with Elizabeth

Well, and that's about it for exciting New Years. Somehow, after settling in Toronto, life stopped being so fabulous. (Or perhaps this is all just a sign that life really does end at 25, as I suspected.) At least in terms of bringing in the new year. Why? I think it probably had something to do with the massive life style change involved in spending all of one's money and giving up all of one's income to immigrate to this frozen wasteland.

Not that I regret immigrating to Canada one bit. One of my life goals was to at least leave the US sometime and become a citizen of somewhere else. Canada may not have been the most wildly entertaining place to go, but it did meet the requirements of the goal. And I'm pretty proud that in this next year, with any luck, I should actually be a real citizen of Canada. It's not been easy, but I think, in the end, I'll be happy that I did it.

But really, am I going to become one of those lame people who spend all of their time looking back on how cool they once were? NO! No I say to you! Er, I'm going to get right on that.

In other news, I am sleeping too much. Way too much. I hope it's just the winter and work stuff messing up my natural sleep patterns, but I feel like a douche for not getting very much useful accomplished lately due solely to the fact that I've been curled up in bed with the cat. Other possibility: I am turning into Ruth. Arrrrrrgh! Must resist temptation to replace entire wardrobe with black transparent thingies.

The other day, my co-worker says to me, "Leah, what ARE you doing here? You are way over-qualified to be doing this. Why are you doing this?"

Oh god, if only I had a good answer.

Usually I just sort of laugh off questions along this line, or give some bullshit answer along the lines of, "Oh, you know, I'm simplifying my life and enjoying a certain lack of certain mental stresses blah blah blah." Instead I said, "I have no fucking clue." And yes, that is an exact quote.

But really, I have stopped to think about it all. About the wild experimentation of the last year since quitting the software industry, and I am left feeling that I really have to consider if I am being sucked into a mindless, downward spiral of a doomed and brainless existence that will forever leave me poor and unable to do anything cool ever, ever again. I suspect it is not that bad. But here is where I find myself, after my year of attempting to infiltrate the bartending scene in Toronto.

( The problem )
( The options )
( Combining the options in crack-headed ways! )

So yeah, what to do? I am not usually a life-planning sort of person. I find it strange to be sitting around trying to plan my life, but I just feel that maybe I need to get myself going in some direction rather than waiting for life to simply happen while I'm not expecting it. Usually, that has worked for me, but lately, I'm growing concerned my haphazard approach to it all is flawed. It's kind of like hunting while laying around with your mouth open, hoping something tasty will just wander in. When it works out it's fucking amaaaaaaazing! When it does not, you look like a retard.

So should I keep looking and feeling like a retard? Will 2009 magically solve all my problems without me having to make any of these sorts of decisions? Is there an even better option that I am completely missing? My inquiring mind demands to know.

For now, I should probably get back to, er, yeah, sleeping. I really could use some of that sleep stuff.

In other news, I have been having a mind-blowingly awesome Christmas. At least some things are starting to look up.