Yesterday I slipped on some ice on the parking spot of my house. I was a bit sore but otherwise alright. I thought I might have twisted my ankle, but by the time I got to the end of the street, it was fine.

Today, roughly 36 hours and 30 minutes later, my ankle is slightly swollen and really sore. Like, climbing down stairs is painful enough to not be worth it anymore, sore. Stupid ankle. Stupid delayed injury reaction. Thing.

I'm whine-y. Woe.

DON'T DO IT. Unless you're really that miserable and you're very very certain that would won't accidentally destroy the world and you know what you're going to do will work. Then you can time travel for love.

In general, don't time travel at all.

Blargh. I am feeling entertainingly demotivated. I'd blame the weather, but it's been stupidly sunny (if nipple-freezingly cold) for the past three days and is due for another four days of sun (and cold). None the less, nothing but the knowledge that if I pry myself out of bed and stagger into work I will get money has actually gotten my out of bed. Otherwise I'd probably just lie there and pretend to sleep.

My job should not be the thing that inspires me to get up every morning. Because I really don't like my job.

So. In summary. Dear Body and Brain, please cheer up. I'm sorry you are down. Go make some cookies or something. Love! Cam.

So. Guys. This Friday is my birthday. Which is alright, I suppose. And. Um. I have a request.

If it doesn't trouble you overly much, could I bother you for music?

For my birthday I would like some new tunes, I trust the tastes of the people who read my ramblings implicitly.

So. Tunes? Can has?

Well, I am 50% approved to become an official Clergy in Training. I just need the other person to give me the thumbs up and a signature. I also need to go get a criminal record check. Fun fun. I met some very nice people and some very fun kids and.. yeah. Got grilled with questions, but not by the person who I thought was going to.

I now, of course, actually have to e-mail something written to the woman who questioned me. Because I didn't answer a couple of things because I froze and went "blah?".

oy.

But alas. If I didn't want to do this so much, I probably wouldn't be this excited.

I have a hickey on my shoulder and it's black and it HURTS. Ow. Ow. Ow. D:

Bleh. Work.

Bleh.

Also. Um.

Shit. I was excited about something. And I can't remember what.

Damnit. I miss my short term memory.

I've noticed more and more recently that when I draw myself, I never draw a neck. There is nothing that connects my head to be body, although there is sometimes a collar floating in that empty space. It's like my head could just float away and have it's own adventures and be happy and screw you physical presence. I think this is an artistic manifestation of my own detachment from my life and day-to-day situations. I can't be frustrated with my lack of direction, or angry at a bitchy customer or worried about medical coverage if I'm not really there. I think I am just allowing myself to float away.

I wonder where I'll go.

coke and orange juice
it looks really disgusting
but in fact, it's.. yum!

The episode of the Simpsons that makes me cry. It's worked it's magic on me twice. So for the second time in viewing it I bawled. And so now I'm going to write about it.

It's that episode in one of the earlier seasons, where Mrs Hoover gets lyme disease or something and is replaced with Substitute Teacher Mr. B-something. Blah blah. Episode happens. Lisa drifts from Homer. Mr. B-something is super fabulous, blah blah. And then we get to the part at the train station where she's begging him not to leave. He writes her a note, "When you feel all alone and you don't know what to do, read this note and it will tell you everything you need to know." I tear up. The train leaves, she chases it. "You'll be okay, Lisa honey, read the note!" She reads it. It says, 'You are Lisa Simpson.' I cry like a small child who has just fallen and skinned their knee. I don't stop until that scene where Homer is making monkey noises in an effort to cheer her up. That's... like, five minutes of solid sobbing to THE SIMPSONS.

And this is the second time I've done this. At the same part. Goddamnit.

In other news, I ran into Des on the skytrain home today. It was fantastic to see him. Because he's my little bro and I love him to bits. And because he just, you know, gets me. Like, he understands that I am a boy in a skirt stuck behind 30 pounds of giant boobs. He refers to me as 'he' and it just warms my heart that I know someone who understands like that and just does it automatically. I have a hard time explaining this. I don't want people to go out of their way to stop calling me a she, but... I like that he doesn't.

I'm not making much sense, am I? But alas. This is the way of things.

I met the couple whose wedding I am co-officiating today. That was quasi-nerve rattling. I'm kind of shy around people I don't know, it doesn't last long, usually until we start talking, but because I am the co-officiant, and not The Officiant, I didn't really have/get to talk too much. And my voice sounds weird because my entire brain is clogged with phlegm, but that's something else entirely. So I didn't talk very much, which of course means me 'eee, new people *hide*' thing did not get beaten down with excessive words on my part. So despite having spent a little over and hour with them, having them (and Sam) talk about their wedding and the ceremonies and what would be different between the two, I'm still kind of... well, skittish around them.

I am, however, stupidly excited about the wedding. I've never been to one like it, much less helped officiate it. Sam seems to think that I'll do alright. So long as I get the finalized script well well in advance so that I can get to work on memorizing it.

I also need to make my priestess dress somewhat more wedding appropriate. Because it's totally up to 'public rit' snuff, but were I the bride/groom/broom in question, I would not want my co-officiant showing up in it. And the bride is very nice, despite the fact that I'm quiet and talk very fast. I want to make her happy.

Sam estimates that it will be about two years until I will be able to perform weddings on my own. That is both exciting and terrifying. I'd best get to work, if he moves like he says he will, someone needs to be able to perform Witchy Weddings in the Vancouver area.

I called in sick to work for the first time ever. For tomorrow. Because I am, like, crazy sick.

I have a sore throat.
Stuffed nose.
Coughs.
General breathing troubles.
Nausea.
Digestive problems.
and....
a Fever.

I am wheezing as I type this.

Guess who's going to the doctor tomorrow?

Cam is. Because this is the lamest cold ever.

I am trying so hard not to bitch about work. So hard.

So I will summarize in three words.

Understaffed.
Eleven. Hours.

that is all.

I'm only a little ashamed that I stayed awake for three hours waiting for a goodnight that never came.


I don't like feeling like this again.

so, I figured out what my issue is with my dad and why we but heads all the time.

we're both alpha-males. We're like lions. He's supposed to be the alpha of his pride and I'm all "uh no. I think I'm in charge." and because we're not actually lions he can't just kill me so we fight.

Although I'm not sure if he is actually aware of this. This is probably one-sided. I'm all "grrr. must be in charge." and he is kinda 'blah. no.' So less killing. But lots of frustration and grr.

So. Yeah. Ta-da! Figured out. I am thinking I will be a bit more peaceable now. This is not my pride, this is not my pack. I'm a member, I'm not in charge. I'll have my own pack to be in charge of later. And noone will need to die.

Didn't fail German.

Didn't get kicked out of SFU.

In general: woo.

I have a very long list of things that went right today, including but not limited to:

-I'm still breathing
-I have a shiney (well, not shiney. really.) new boobholder.
-Woo survived.
-I can still walk.

However, those and the list that go with them are boring. Especially compared to the exciting things that didn't go quite so right today. So, without further preamble.

I got to work today roughly 30 minutes early. I usually do. I like being early. As I walk into the store, J meets me at the door with the greeting of "Oh we're going to have FUN today. But I won't tell you anything, I want you to be SURPRISED."

I shrug it off. Whatever. Someone probably called in sick and it'll be two people in the resteraunt/cap bar all day. Nothing new. I get my drink, go to the staff room. Change. Whatever. My shift starts and begin walking to the kitchen. As I pass the deli there is the overwhelming aroma of cheese. Like being smacked in the face by 2000$ worth of cheese. Whatever. Cheese smells sometimes, and I don't look at it. Because I'm focused on getting to the kitchen. As I approach the kitchen, I notice that HMR is empty. That's funny. HMR is NEVER empty. Ever. Hm. Oh well. To the kitchen. I get to the kitchen and I am greeted by J, and two empty cold cases.

"Guess what happened?" he says. I look at the empty cases. I think of HMR and the smell at the deli.

"The fridges are broken, aren't they?"

"Bingo!"

Yep. At Urban Fare almost all of our fridges broke overnight. The cold cases in the kitchen, the meat case and the cheese case in the deli. The milk/juice section. The meat section. We lost so much money today, you have no idea.

I also totally hit the back of my leg on the corner of the swingy door at the coffee bar and now i have a bruise and a bump. But I can still walk, so whatever.

I know how to do cash now and I can make almost all the drinks we serve. Woo. Learning.

That, as it stands, was my super awesome day at work. I hope that it doesn't happen again, I didn't know how much I like having a fridge until ours dies.

Used book shopping trip was a success. I can home with a backpack full of books. :D It made me a happy campstove. I am at this minute trying to decide between going back to bed or just going back to Brave New World.

This shouldn't be so difficult a decision.