C'est l'Halloween - HEY!

Weird thing. Hangover didn't hit me today until really late in the evening after I had gone to one of the most useless Research classes I've had all year. I was pretty late too, as a matter of fact, owning to the fact that rush hour was mental today. Regardless, after dinner tonight, the effects from LAST night hit pretty hard. What could be good for an after Halloween-event hangover? You guessed it - HALLOWEEN candy! bah.

Anyway - I'm still pretty frustrated about the whole living arrangements thing. I mean, if someone tells you they have a room available come January, they should mean it. And if someone tells you that they intend to vacate the premises come January, they shouldn't have any second thoughts. So here I find myself free from one situation. Regardless, I'm moving out in January. But WHERE TO? Got to check out the location of where I COULD stay, providing the Joe living there now decides to get out and pursue his goal up North or something. Anyway, it was a good evening, but I'm not going to say much about it for a lot of reasons. All I can say is that Mike and I make a pretty impressive father-daughter combination in our Vadar-Leia getups. I didn't take any pictures, but a pal might be able to lend me a few when they become available. Again, for reasons beyond my control, I probably won't post most of them.

Still, back to the apartment situation. I guess what's getting me down is the fact that I thought it was a for SURE deal - now, it seems like a "maybe." And as much as I know there isn't much I can do about it at the moment, I just wish there was more enthusiasm, more of a desire for me to move to where I was supposed to be moving to. Especially in this situation. Gah. Stupid everything.

My mountain of homework is still hovering over me, I didn't get to see Rocky Horror again this year, but at least there was a party, at least there was drinking, amongst the company of Darth Vadar (obviously) a giant duck, Jay and Silent Bob, Xena and of course, Fox Mulder, Halloween this year has surpassed any of the previous years spent in Ottawa - yup, EVEN better than first year, when that twelve year old kid slapped me in the ass and asked me for my number.

Happy Halloween everybody! It's back to reading about Rwanda for me!

Murphy's Law : Plans

- If you make the perfect plan, something, if not EVERYTHING will necessarily go wrong.

So, what's the deal with nothing EVER going according to plan?

I've been living out here in Westboro, just over a year now. Too far away from everything, in my opinion, but a great location nonetheless, safe and quiet and all of that. But when the opportunity presented itself a) with one of the roomate's near-certain attitude about moving away come January and b) with the other roomate only intitiaully intending to stay on the lease for four months, I c) decided to arrange plans to move into a January-ready apartment downtown. Everything was swell. I wouldn't have to worry about finding a roomate last minute... ultimately...a stress-free situation.

... or so I thought...

Now it turns out that a) the roomate's not planning on moving out of Ottawa until March so he would find it very convenient if he could stay where we are at present, b) the other roomate's found a sweet job nearby and would probably rather stay here as well but c) I made plans to move downtown which, AREN'T certain because just recently, I found out that the room either won't be available, or that I'll have to find somewhere else with the friend I was intending to move in with. This might all sound a bit confusing, but let's sum it up by asking a simple question. Why not just STAY WHERE YOU ARE, Brie?! If it works out for the other two roomies. Why screw them out of a good situation? Well I'll tell you why... because I've ALREADY HANDED IN MY FREAKIN 60 DAYS NOTICE because ALL this horsesh*t was brought to my attention DIRECTLY after I handed the fucking thing in!

As Charlie Brown put it best:
"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

It doesn't help that my mountain of homework is still hovering over my head - and that I've still got mental amounts of shifts both for the government and at the Evil Empire this week. I don't need extra moving fuss.

I don't want to be the freakin bad-guy in all of this! I don't want to ruin a good thing going on, a good rapport between friends and roomates. We had plans!!! Why do they ALWAYS fall apart??!!?!?!!

All of this is driving me to drink, let me tell you, which I will, let me tell you, tomorrow night, let me tell you, on Halloween, dressed up as Princess Leia Organa accompanied by my very own Darth Vadar, where hopefully, for a brief lapse in time, I won't be worried about or stressed out about all of this.

Bring on the candy corn and Rockets!! It's PUMPKIN TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seven Long Years Come to an End

Just a quick little message to let you all know that the Voyager crew all made it back to Earth, safe and sound!

:)

Choke and die BUSDRIVER!

Take a look at the formal complaint I sent to OC Transpo today. Hopefully I'll be able to post their response in the near future:

"Travelling on the bus, I was most offended and publicly humiliated by one of your conductors. He was a younger driver, with light brown hair, the most disrespectful individual I've ever encountered working for OC Transpo. Up until this point I have been most satisfied with the conductors. This one in particular, however, was not the model depiction of one of your employees.

For comfort reasons, as I have been experiencing pains in my back lately, I placed my feet on the end of the seat facing me, in the centre part of the bus. Ensuring that I was not blocking the way for other customers, and knowing that I would not be making anybody's journey uncomfortable as there was much room available on the bus.

At which point, a most condescending yell from the bus driver shouted: "Get your feet of the seat!" in a very rude and condescending tone. At which point I complied. I did not feel that my actions deserved such unkind treatment and as I was getting off the bus at a near stop, I confronted the driver. I politely suggested that it would have been much more commendable for him to have asked politely, or at least had added a "please" to his barking orders. The driver retorted, again, very rudely, that if I don't put my feet up on furniture at home, I shouldn't do it on the bus. At which point the doors were rudely shut in my face and the driver drove off.

Though his argument is completely valid, I do not feel that his speaking down to me as if I were a child is the proper way to treat a person who has made a considerable investment in purchasing bus passes for the company as well as abided by the regulations.
As a PAYING customer of this transportation service, I do not appreciate being spoken down to by a conductor. He was unnecessarily rude and I am MOST offended and I would very much like a formal apology for the way I was treated this afternoon."

Yours sincerely,

The bitch who'd like to put that asshole driver out on the street.

(I added that last little part)

***END TRANSMISSION***

MVP!

I know the idea of going to a banquet for one's government agency softball team doesn't sound like the ultimate way of spending a Friday night, but after food and drinks at Local Heroes, a couple more drinks at the banquet, TERRIBLE 90s dance music, druken karaoke and a little touch of Bon Jovi, things turned out pretty darn good!

Oh, AND it helps if you win a free drink, a door prize (bottle of Sourpuss, which I shared with my teammates in a communal shot,) and winning the MVP trophy!

All in all, good times were had by all!!

The banquet was exceptionally refreshing as it had followed up a most formidably productive group work activity on my day off, cramped in a little study room of Ottawa U's Library. Not the best way to spend a Friday afternoon, but I suppose it helped us get some work done. Work that we're generally not able to complete in our super good research class because, well, nothing much CAN be done sitting around trying to decipher between what the prof is saying, and what the hell you're supposed to be doing. But I digress...

The effort of studying political science is having a serious impact on my sleeping pattern. Just the other night, I had a dream that a former friend of mine from grade school cut off his head in an effort to rebel, or something, against the government. So there he is, or at least, there his head is, in the toilet stall next to mine. And I get to thinking, you know, all this studying of political violence and last night's PoliThought class about the French Revolution MIGHT be a little too much for ya! That might in fact be the case considering the next dream I had, I had moved to England and was seconds away from being hit by an RAF warplane that was about to crash into the building I was in, where, for some inexplicable reason, a choir of little children were singing Christmas carols...

Wow, I seriously need to see a dream interpreter or something.

Maybe a psychoanalyst would be a better idea.

Can I say a little something here, a little sidenote, about pants? I think I will. Let me tell you a little something about pants. I spent an HOUR AND A HALF at the Rideau the other day, trying to find an outfit, seeing as how the government finally took me off their little string and decided to give me what was comin' to me! Anyway, all this time passes, and I manage to ONLY pick up a pair of pants within the last 10 minutes of my little excursion. Why? Because for some reason, the fashion industry makes clothing for ladies without thighs. Unfortunately, I am not one of those ladies. So sue me if I'd like to get a pair of pants that fits simultaneously around my waist AND my things without having to compensate by either getting the baggy waist with the puffy crotch because they're too big OR the too-tight-thigh-look, you know, the look where if you take one step out of line your legs might burst out at the seems? ANYWAY. Thank you Roots for the sweet pair of pants you sold to me. And to everyone else, Bite me.

***********END TRANSMISSION***********************

All I know, I learned from Star Trek Voyager

The past week has found Ottawa under a gloomy, overcast sky, with nothing to look forward to, except -40' weather. But, I have left the clouds behind, floated on into space, and got lost out in the Delta quadrant with the cast of Voyager. I know, I'm lame, but I'm up to season 7. They're so close to getting back home, I can TASTE it! I find myself daydreaming in my poli-sci classes, thinking up crazy adventures for the crew as they take their final episodes back to Earth. Yes, I confess, I like Star Trek. But, "well, I don't like Deep Space Nine!"

On the subject of poli-sci classes, I'm facing a pretty hefty decision as to whether or not I should continue with the french program, or leave all that heritage behind and switch over to the English program. At least there I won't feel like a big target, with a sign tagged onto my back that says: "I've never seen Les Boys" on it. I guess I've always felt relatively left out from the francophone group as I, well, rarely speak french in any of my classes, or anywhere else for that matter, but this all forced itself upon me recently in my political sociology class. I was meant to make a presentation about this text that I read, which I firstly, didn't completely grasp, and secondly, didn't fully understand. Regardless, I stumbled through the entire thing and felt like a prize ass. Maybe if I didn't feel as if I was being judged for having let down the spirit of a nation or something, I would be a bit more comfortable in these situations and I'd embrace my french canadian heritage. This would all be made MUCH easier if we could have unviersal translators - then nobody would judge anybody on account of their terrible southern Ontario accents, and everyone would get along smashingly.

Speaking of universal translators. . . Capt. Janeway's waiting for me on Mike's portable DVD player. . .

***END TRANSMISSION***

Just me and the toenails

You know it's going to be a good day when you're forced to sit on a crowded OC Transpo bus next to the guy horking up lung phleom for the entire duration of your bus ride. Or even better, when you sit down to breakfast first thing in the morning, set your bowl of cereal down on the table to find your roomates finger nail clippings right there next to your Corn Pops. Yes it was a dreary day to day in Ottawa right from the get-go. And tonight, I come home to an empty apartment, everyone gone to their family's big turkey dinners, and I'm here, alone, with a bunch of disgusting nail clippings on my table.

It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't decided to switch my Wednesday shift at the Revenue Agency to come into work today. But that's what happens when you have to study for a test in which your main fear is that you won't understand the wording of the professor's questions because, despite her being a fully qualified political scientist, hasn't quite mastered the language in which she is teaching. I'm paying for an education here. I would think that I would AT LEAST get a professor who can speak my language. Apparently that is too much to ask.

A bunch of drunken moronic Carleton students (or so I'm to assume) came to the theater tonight to cause shit in Corpse Bride. (Yes, Corpse Bride, not Corpse's Bride, or Corpses Bride, there is only one bride, and she is a corpse. Anybody who can't read it, should probably not be going to see it in the first place. Idiots.) Anyway, so these morons come to see Tim Burton at his finest just to get completely trashed and as I stand there trying to figure out the way these morons' brains function, I get to thinking... Maybe that's what I'm missing in MY life. Maybe all I need is a little bit of excitement, a little bit of going to a movie theater to get wasted when there's a pretty freakin decent bar scene not two minutes away. Maybe that's what it means to be really cool. And then I get to thinking futher... Man... I hope my boss brings in the last season of Voyager tomorrow so I can finish it and find out whether or not they make it back to Earth.

Well...at least I know I have my priorities straight.

I was hoping to get a whole shitload of work done this weekend, reading, writing, cleaning the nails off my table, and all that, but I pretty much screwed myself over backwards by asking to take on a couple more shifts at the Evil Empire this weekend. Wallace and Gromit just came out and what with the Holiday, it's going to be packed with children begging their parents for more pop, "MOMMY I WANT CANDY," "no honey, candy is bad for you, why don't you listen to mommy and just drink some water?" "SPARE ME THE MUMBO-JUMBO BITCH AND JUST GET ME SOME F*%$&ING CANDY," "of course dear, anything you say." Spoiled freakin brats. When I was young, I was lucky if I get a kernel of popcorn and taffy pull. In all honestly, I'm not sure what a taffy pull is. Nor do I know the difference between toffee and taffy. Maybe someone can help me out with this.

Oh well, I'm sure the weekend won't be all bad. At least I'll be able to find out what happens after Janeway's assimilation. . .