Random!

I am a slave to "The Sims 2". Ever since it came in to my life, everything has been on the backburner. Eating, socializing, but especially sleeping have all been playing second fiddle to the status of my Sim Family. (I kinda wish "eating" could replace "sleeping" in that last sentence. Alas, my constant playing of the game has done nothing to my appetite really, and I'm still as fat as ever.)
Today was the first day since Monday that my eyes witnessed daylight. Nelly and I (and my sister tagged along) went to get lunch at the Green Mango. The waiter was really really nice. If he'd been about a decade younger, I totally would've jumped him. Nelly attempted to translate his tattoo for us and got as far as "Air Girl" or "Wind Woman" or something. Which had me a little worried. Because if he had "Air Girl" tattooed on his arm, that'd be VERY gay. But I think that this "gay" tattoo has more to do with Nelly's lack of Chinese reading skills than it has to do with him actually being gay.
After that brief spell, we went down to the LCBO so that I could contribute in my own special way (i.e. with my driver's license) to Nelly's New Year's Eve Party (read: booze). So once we get out of the LCBO, I start thinking "Hmm. Right now, three of us are carrying bags with booze in them. But soon, Nelly will have to part ways with two of us and carry all of this stuff on her own. How is she planning on doing this?" Ladies and gents, the truth is, Nelly doesn't think ahead. She's a little like me in that respect. So here she is attempting to carry a 12 pack of coolers, a 6 pack of beer, a bottle of vodka and one of rum--and she's about half my height and half my weight. Have no fear folks. When it comes to boozing it up, we're an innovative bunch. After some fantastic packing strategies on the part of all three of us (we had to distribute the weight equally on both sides, make sure that the bag wasn't digging into her wrist as she was holding it and so on - my physics prof would've been proud!) Nelly was on her way with the booze to meet some friends at the library. (Sidenote: I wish I could be this innovative and determined when it came to something useful... although getting drunk can be very useful, so I don't know what I'm raving on about. ) I hope she made it and that she writes about it in her blog because I for one would love to know about the reception she received at the library as "The World's Only Underaged Drinker To Ever Visit A Library With Muchos Booze".
I'm imagining it right now, and I must say the scene is quite humorous. But also lengthy. And for some odd reason it includes midgets. So I won't bother describing it here. You can imagine your own scene... if you're one of the lucky few who hasn't been robbed of an imagination by endless exposure to television and "convergent-thinking" training through years of public schooling. (Side fact: Did you know that the average child will have spent more time watching television than going to school by the time they turn 15?)
Oh, the other fun thing I did this week was my adventure with Alex on Monday. To sum it up in four sentences or less (because concise is good): It was cold. We spent 5 hours walking in the deserted PATH - Mission Impossible re-enactments ensued (yes, the Security Guard was involved). We visited the CN tower, the CBC museum (Mr. Dressup!), and ended up drinking. No planning = fun.

In other news: School is almost back in session. Thinking about it makes me want to puke. So instead, I will focus on the best night of my life, occurring in t-minus (approximately) 24 hours. Yes, you read right, tomorrow night is going to be the best night of my life. I'll be telling my grandkids about tomorrow night. It's going to ROCK my BEST SOCKS! (I hope.)

Away Laughing On A Fast Camel: Part II

Another excerpt (and, in my humble opinion, the best part of this book) from "Away Laughing On A Fast Camel" by Louise Rennison:

11:07 p.m.
The band had left the stage by the time I went over to Tom. I said to him, "Mission accomplished. She will talk to you, but I have to go over and try to persuade her, but you will know that we are acting."
Tom gave me a hug. As he was hugging me, Masimo came from the dressing room. As he walked through the crowd it sort of parted before him. There was an awful lot of flicking of hair and smiling going on. And that was just the boys!!! No really, it was the girls, especially that trollopy Sharon Davies; she's had blond streaks put in her hair. I don't think they look very natural. Not like my boy entrancers. (Fake eyelashes). I put an extra slurp of glue on them when I was in the loo just now so there is no chance of them coming off. I was just watching Masimo. Not directly. I was looking over Tom's shoulder. As I was being Miss Cool I saw Wet Lindsay walk in with her sad mates. She had a ludicrously short skirt on. If I had legs as thin as hers, I would wear big inflatable trousers so that I didn't startle anyone. But she is too selfish to bother.
Ohmygiddygod Masimo was coming our way. Tom winked at me. Then he called over to Masimo, "Hey Masimo, ciao."
Masimo heard him and smiled and came over. Oh please please don't let me go to the piddly diddly department in the middle of the dance floor. When he reached us I could feel the heat of him being near me. Good grief and jelloid knickers akimbo. He said, "Hey Tom, ciao - and it's you. Let me see... the lovely Ginger."
I went, "Hahahahahahahahahaahahahhaahahaha" until Tom hit me on the back.
Tom said, "No, this is Georgia."
I said, even though I knew I should shut up - but you know when you should shut up but you go on and on - well I had that, "Ah well, you see, Libby thinks I am half cat, half sister, and she... er... calls me Ginger sometimes."
Tom went on trying to rescue me. "Georgia went out with Robbie for a bit before he went to Whakatane."
Masimo looked me right in the eyes. "Robbie is, how you say in English, not in his right brains to leave you behind." And he smiled again. Phwoar. I had to look down because I couldn't trust myself not to leap on him. I looked down and then I was intending to look up and do that looking up and looking away thing, and also possibly a bit of flicky hair. Unfortunately when I tried to look up again, I couldn't because my boy entrancers had stuck to my bottom lashes. So my eyes stayed shut. They were glued together. I kept trying to open my eyes but I couldn't. In sheer desperadoes I said, "Oh, I love this one." And started wobbling my head around to the music.
The tune was Rolf Harris's "Two Little Boys," the naffest record known to humanity. Ohmygiddygod what should I do? I kept up the head waggling and I was raising my eyebrows up and down to pull my eyelashes apart. I bet that looked attractive. I thought I'd better do some humming. I started humming to the tune.
Masimo said, "Would you like to have a drink?"
Hummmmmmmmm hummmmmmm...
"No thanks, non grazie, I must groove to this one."
I must get away. I turned and head-wobbled off. I couldn't see a thing obviously, so to stop myself from crashing into anything, I put my hands out in front of me, but then I thought that would look odd so I tried to fit it into my dancing. I put one hand out in front and waved the other above my head like disco dancing. I knew the loos were sort of to my right and if I could just get there I could rip my boy entrancers off.
My "grooving" arm banged into something soft and someone said, "Oy, mind my basoomas, you cream-faced loon!"
It was Rosie, thank God. I said to her, "Rosie, lead me to the loos."
She said, "Clear off, you lezzie."
I was still madly flinging my arms around. Hopefully Masimo would think it was the eccentric English way of having a good time. Either that or he would be phoning for emergency services.
I said to Rosie, "My boy entrancers have stuck together. I can't open my eyes. Do something."
She said, "Quick, put your hands on my soulders and we'll conga dance over to the loos."
"Rosie, I don't think that's a very good-"
Before I knew it, she had forced my hands onto her shoulders and we were doing the conga. Fifty-five million years later I broke free from the conga line - once we had started doing it, the whole club had joined in. I yelled at Rosie to stop and take me to the loos, but she was having too much of a laugh. I got my hand to my eyes and tried to pry the lashes apart, and that is when one of them fell off in my hand - the boy entrancer I mean, not my eye.
I could see! I could see! I ran into the loos and ripped off the other one.

I can't really post anything of my own because I'm too busy playing The Sims 2. Thanks for your help Kosma!

Go Jesus: It's Your Birthday!

We're gonna party like it's your birthday...

Well. Not exactly.
If it had been up to me, Jesus, we'd have partied it up BIG time, and for real. You can bet your white ass there'd have been Bacardi involved. Unless you were black, in which case you could bet your black ass. Really, it doesn't matter either way. We'd have partied it up. But since the party arrangements were left up to the olds, all I did for your birthday was get a glimpse into my future in the form of my parents. Honestly, if this Christmas is any indication of what I have to look forward to when I'm in my mid-forties... I'm not sure I want to live that long.
I spent a good chunk of time in the bathroom staring in the mirror and trying to make my hair (curly for the occasion) work with the all-too-round shape of my face (I realized that my face was too round after about half an hour) and not think about the loons out in the dining room making complete... loons of themselves. Let's just say that I'm very surprised (and slightly disappointed) that given the state that the "adults" were in, the Christmas tree did not get tipped over, that no one passed out, that no food was spilled, and that my grandfather didn't light himself on fire. We were damned lucky to get out alive. Baby Jesus had a hand in this. And I just have to say that I think that people at that stage in life should have a little bit more pride and dignitosity and whatnot and not act like pre-teens that haven't been out for 8 months. Honestly. My sister was better-behaved than my aunt.
My cousins got "The Sims 2", and subsequently got my sister and I completely hooked, so that we have to go out to BestBuy tomorrow and fight to spend our Christmas money with all the other psychopaths out on Boxing Day. I have a feeling it'll get ugly. Who goes out on Boxing Day except for the terminally insane (i.e. Nelly)?
Well, that is all from the land of Dune-yah. Merry Merry Christmas!

A Very Long Engagement: The Review

A Very Long Engagement indeed.
Ok. This movie was about a billion years long. Which is very taxing when you have ADD. And even more taxing when you can't lose yourself in the special effects and shiny costumes because there's actually a plot to follow and characters to watch develop. Yes folks, you can definitely tell this movie didn't come out of Hollywood.
Basically, the story is as follows: Five men from the French Army during the First World War are exiled to No Man's Land (that's the bit between the French and German trenches, for those of you that didn't know - i.e. where people die) after being accused of self-mutilation in an attempt to get out of the war. Ya dig? They were supposed to be killed, but this nice dude decided to give them a "chance" to make it in No Man's Land. Anywho, one of these men, Manech, is this gimpy girl's fiance. And they're in love. When Manech doesn't come back from the war, Matilde (his fiance, the gimp) doesn't want to accept that he might be dead, and begins a search for him. During her search, you learn a lot about Manech and Matilde's romance before he went off to war, you learn about Matilde's gimp, you learn about the other four men too, and their lives before the war, etc. All this happy pre-war stuff, and also Matilde's life in a little picturesque French village with her uncle and aunt, is contrasted with gruesome war images, where trench life is, sadly, very realistically depicted. This war part is very akin to "Saving Private Ryan" in it's uncensored depiction of death and destruction and lost morals and so on. Wow. I'm so poetic.
Anywho, I won't give away the end, or really the middle or anything in case anyone wants to see it. The only bit that I didn't like was the annoying guy that worked there that kept coming in during the movie and walking across the front of the room. His stupid head got in the way of the subtitles now and again. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that because the movie is French, you have to be literate (or understand French) if you wish to follow (sorry Mota). And in the end, I didn't like how it took Matilde (the gimp) half an hour to "walk" (read: limp) to her final destination. At this point, I really had to go pee, and at the same time really wished to see the dramatic conclusion, so her gimp was PISSING ME OFF.
In any case, I think everyone should go see the movie. If nothing else, you can ignore the subtitles and make up your own dialogue. It would make for a very humorous experience.

Day 2 of the Kitchen Re-painting Fiasco

Allow me to begin from the... uh... beginning, for those of you who aren't up to date: So my mother has this brilliant idea that since we're not going to the Dominican Republic this Christmas, she's going to paint the kitchen instead. I really don't see the logic here. Exchanging a warm tropical relaxing vacation for hard labour... but whatever. We always knew she was a little crazy. My sister and I decided to opt out. As soon as she stated said "brilliant" plan, my sister and I both said "Ah, we will not be aiding you in your quest to make our kitchen green, oh Holy One, because we already have plans. Plans of lying about all day doing nothing as it is our vacation and this is what we wish to do. Yes, Father, we wish to loll about with our tongues hanging out out of boredom." We also had to explain ourselves to our father, because as we were explaining ourselves to our mother, she started screaming like a banshee and this is like some call of the wild thing that attracts our father to act as reinforcement to whatever insane scheme our mother is hatching.
Anyways, our dad just squashed our dreams of being free and frolicking and said "You're helping your mother paint the kitchen" And I said "But I don't want to" And he said "No one wants to do anything" in a really huffy voice. And this confused me, because what he was saying made sense and I couldn't agree with the content of his message more... but we still didn't seem to be seeing eye to eye because he was jiggling with anger. And when I say jiggling, I do mean quite literally as you will know if you have ever seen my daddy's tummy. (Also, he's about a foot taller than me, so we never really see eye to eye - but I didn't mean it literally. I meant it in an abstract, illustrative way. Whatever. Just go on.)
We changed into our slave outfits and started with our slave work. I say slave work because our mother initially aided us with comments of encouragement. She even took some forks out of the kitchen BUT, then she disappeared into the basement. We thought she was getting tools or something initially, but when she didn't reappear for 2 hours, we got a little suspicious. So we went downstairs (at this point having emptied out the entire kitchen and sanded everything down) and she was down there watching tv. Needless to say, I was shocked and appalled, but too tired to complain, so I sat down and watched tv with her. For about half an hour. Then I had to get ready to go out with Nelly. We saw "A Very Long Engagement" - excellent movie. I will give my full review of it at a later date. Or maybe I won't. It'll depend on my mood.
Anyways, today is day 2 of the kitchen repainting. So far, I have managed to hide out in my room, but I was awoken at 8 in the morning by screams emitting from the place of repaint-ment. My parents were arguing, because, inevitably, whenever they have to cooperate on something, ESPECIALLY if work is involved, it elicits anger and tension. The argument about the colour of the window frame turned into an argument about how they never go out anymore and who they're going to be spending New Year's Eve with. I guess I should tell them that definitely NOT on that list is me... as they still don't know that I am ditching them... but I didn't think that would be a good time. In fact, I think I'm stuck just avoiding my parents for the next ten days until this whole thing is over. I like them a lot better when they're at work. Then they don't have these useless ideas about how great it would be to repaint the kitchen, and they don't argue because they're too tired. Holidays should be abolished for adults in favour of a more healthy family climate. Instances of child abuse would be greatly reduced. You can take my word on that one.
Haha. Lunch is ready. The fire alarm just went off.
Merry Christmas Eve-Eve!

.: Uzi's Corner :.

(Well, it's more like Uzi's Universe... because he's so fat and whatnot... but whatever):

Mota says: Hahaha, Korean guy. LOL
Dunja says: You should've seen his hair! It was soooo poofy and confused!
Dunja says: Just like him!!!
Mota says: Actually, Nitish told me about it, but not in detail like you did.
Mota says: He said you were saying "this way" like a goof for the hell of it
Mota says: But in fact, you said you were trying to say it in French
Mota says: Which makes a lot more sense
Mota says: Stupid Nitish and his propaganda

I'm glad it made sense to someone...

Stick A Fork In Me, I'm Done!

Haha.
I just used the word 'blast' as an exclamation. Like, I didn't say "Blast off!" or "Did you hear that blast?" I said "Blast!" as in "My plan has been foiled again - BLAST!"
It's funny because the last time I heard someone use that word in that way was exactly 363 days ago -- and he was English!
Anyways, the reason I said "Blast!" (as I'm sure you're all dying to find out) is that Adam asked me how my exam went, and, upon some reflection I realized that I really should've used that week I had off to study... to um... study... instead of chatting with George and so on... and so I said "Blast!". And then giggled to myself, because who says that?
THEN I spent exactly 4 minutes (I timed myself, sorta, because this song started playing just as I started doing this and ended playing just as I finished) looking for a book through all of my drawers and in my closet and under my bed... and it was ON MY DESK the WHOLE TIME.
Hee hee.
I think this means that I'm a little preoccupied with something. Although I'm not sure what it is.
Hahaha. The other funny thing that happened today was that I was telling Nitish "This way" in a French accent... so I said "Zis-vay" And I'm guessing this means something in Korean, or it's a Korean name or something, 'cause this Korean guy turns around and he's like "Yeah?" And I'm like "What?" because I had no idea why this guy was just randomly talking to me and/or looking at me, and he gave me the most puzzled look ever, and me and Nitish just looked at each other and burst out laughing because the guy looked really funny. Like, his hair was all bushy and shaky-about and he looked SO confused. So after we laughed, the Korean guy looked crushed. Like, really devestated. Like he wanted to run to a corner and cry. And then he asked me something else, at which point Nitish and I had to run around the corner because we were laughing so hard, because he was still really confused-looking. I felt really bad about that afterwards.
And it's a really pointless story to type about because you really had to be there. But whatever. I'm not deleting all this typing now. Too much effort went into it.
This is where thinking ahead would come in useful. If I'd just thought ahead, I'd've realized that this was a stupid, pointless story, and I wouldn't have bothered to do all that work. But apparently, evolution missed me, and I'm still stuck in the "can't think ahead" stage. Is that even possible? No. I didn't think ahead. Again. Ok. I'm getting out of here before I pull something. Like a brain muscle. Man... brains don't have muscles. Dunja, you're an idiot. STOP TYPING.

Boys are Gross

Ok, not only are boys stupid, but they are gross too.

For the record: I don't want to know about your excursions to the bathroom. Yeesh. Stories like the following do NOT interest me. However, since I have a male readership, (as evidenced mainly by Yang... and I THINK he's a boy), and boys seem to enjoy sharing poo stories with one another (because I can't imagine why else you'd think it'd be a good idea to tell ME your poo stories), you get to read one now:
Be forewarned: If you suffer from a weak stomach, or generally dislike poo stories (that is, if you are like me) you might want to skip this one. Also, don't read it 4-5 hours before you're supposed to eat or after having eaten anything.
READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Dunja : Wasssup?
Fafa: I'm sick
Dunja : Having fun? Besides the sick part?
Fafa: Ya it was good until i got diarrhea. Now my ass is shooting out fire. Nasty stuff.
Fafa: You want more detail?
Dunja says: No thanks.
Fafa: 1 more.... I was in the bathroom trying to piss.....
Dunja says: This is a horrible story...
Fafa: And I shitted but it sounded like piss.
Dunja says: Ewwwww.
Fafa: I know... lol

Why does he seem proud of this "accomplishment"? Ew.
Names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent (as I am the only "innocent" in this story).

CAUTION: Completely Forced and Pointless Post: Do Not Operate Heavy Machinery While Reading

Yesterday was one of those nights where I felt just a bit more special than anyone should ever feel. (I won't get into specifics, but I do have to say: thank you.)

The cousins were supposed to be over today as it is my dad's birthday tomorrow, but they cancelled so dad's taking us out for supper. (East Side Mario's! I love that place... such great pasta. And maybe I'll see that stupid waitress that doesn't assume things and gets asked out by Pauly. Stupid her...) Sean invited me to his party today (out of necessity, I suspect, since Pauly had already leaked the story to me.) That's an unvite. I wouldn't go even if it wasn't an unvite though. Strangely enough (even though we haven't talked in over a year), this guy I dated once and met at Sean's party last year messaged me yesterday. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but then when I found out Sean was having a party tonight - it kinda made more sense. Sorta. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. But in any case, whether or not him messaging me yesterday is a total coincidence, I wouldn't want to take the risk of running into him there. Plus, there will be people there who enjoy harrassing me. It seems like more work than it's worth.

And on a completely unrelated note: It's really weird how when you don't like someone anymore and you look back on stuff, you're like "What the hell was I thinking?" I should remember this feeling next time I get to liking someone too much. Freezy - I'm counting on you to refer me to this post next time I get into it like an idiot again.

Don't see CLOSER. It's a pointless movie. Adam and I both endorse this view. (I figure if someone agrees with me, it makes it sound more plausible.) But definitely see The Incredibles if you haven't yet done so. It is the best movie of this year. No doubt.

And speaking of No Doubt, Gwen Stefani is totally rocking my socks with her new stuff. Her videos are totally awesome. The Alice in Wonderland one and the new Pirate one for the "Rich Girl" song. She makes me want to dance. This is good. And this is also all. I wasn't very inspired to write anything at all today, but I felt the need since everyone has been good and updating their blogs - keep up the great work!

Finding the Cutest Kid Ever

Ok, next to the kid from Jerry Macguire, here's the CUTEST kid ever. (They won't let me link to the image, so you're going to have to click here if you wanna see.) He's from one of the best movies ever, Finding Neverland. Ch-check it if you're into movies that make you cry. (Yes, I cried. A lot.) Click here for more info on the movie.

And, uh, just a really scary thing that I came across thanks to Adam: Nanalan'

Terrorists At UTM

Ha.
So apparently there was a bomb threat called in yesterday at my school. My friend, who was writing an exam at the time, gives an unbiased recount of events:

Kosma says: I WAS IN THAT CLASS! It was really funny.
Dunja says: Wait, so what happened?
Kosma says: So I'm sitting there. Then the prof starts acting weird. Then he's like "We need each row to come down and take their bags and move them onto the podium. We've had a prank call".
Kosma says: Then all this noise, during the exam, people walking around. No one could concentrate. Prof said he'd give us extra time. Then 20 minutes later, the phone rings. The prof tells us to stop writing, get up, and get the hell out of there as fast as we can. So we did. And I laughed. The end.
Kosma says: Make sure to post this in your blog.
Dunja says: The first time they didn't take it seriously? Or what?
Kosma says: Yeah. Second time they're like "Oh no! Maybe there IS a bomb! Blowing up the management class at UTM would show American Infidels what Jihad is all about!"

Why didn't anyone think to call in a bomb threat during MY exam today? Because life hates me. That would've totally rocked though. I went to bed yesterday having not studied because I was under the (false) impression that someone would rescue me with another crazy antic. Alas, the exam went off without a hitch. Except for the me failing it part... That's quite the fly in your soup. Well, my soup. I'm sure you don't really care about me failing my exam. As you shouldn't. That's why this post ends NOW.

It's Beginning To Look a Lot Like Christmas

I can't remember the last time I was this excited about Christmas. I've had Christmas songs playing ever since Perfect Stranger Boy (a.k.a. Adam) and Paully Wally were nice enough to send me some, and yesterday we put up the tree. It turned out spectacular. I'd put a picture up if a certain someone wasn't so stingy about his new DigiCam (*cough Paully cough*) but alas, you'll just have to wait 'till after I get my pictures developed and scanned - (i.e. well after the holidays) because someone is a total Grinch and is totally missing the point of the season, and, I suspect, doesn't want you to see my wonderful tree. (And I'm still stuck in The Stone Age as far as technology goes.)

Anywho, back to how I'm really excited for the holidays: I'm not even sure why. Just - getting dressed up and chilling with cool people and building snowmen and having snowfort showdowns and getting caught under the mistletoe and going skating and all that other stuff I didn't do last year because I was away - maybe it's 'cause I missed all that last year. I mean, this season is everything I live for - it totally gives you an excuse to act cracked out and overly friendly and everyone is just doing things "in the spirit of". And the spirit is such a nice thing. :)

I'm totally wanting to have a fancy dinner party at my house - a black tie R.S.V.P. - type event sometime before school starts up again. Hmm. That'd be totally chillin'. After dinner and a photo op, everyone could change out of their fancy shmancy clothes and we could play board games and string popcorn onto... strings... and drink hot chocolate and all that stuff. That'd be TOTALLY chillin'.

Alright, well I really should be studying for my bio exam tomorrow. And this is when all of my holiday excitement comes crashing down. Because, officially, the holidays don't start for me 'till the 22nd. It's enough to make a girl want to cry.

Sigh... Oh George... and Russian People

Ha ha. This kid cracks me up every time:

George says: this Russian dude came into the store the other day (with a bolshevik hat and everything) and he's all 'where are the cranberries?'
George says: and i says to him 'we only have them frozen'
George says: an he says 'only frozen? well that's new!' and so i said to him 'yeah, well listen "comrade", capitalism was "new" too, but you got used to that'
George says: and then as he was walking away sipping his vodka I added 'btw, I don't recall BORSCH needing cranberries anyways.. '

I Want to Pinch His Cheeks...

His butt cheeks.

Ok, boys will be the end of me: Honestly. Could they BE any cuter?! It's frustrating when you're trying to get work done, and thoughts of boys keep popping into your head. Very frustrating. Like today, I was just minding my own business, reading something or other about polypeptide chains crossing the bilayer as an alpha helix and then BAM! there's the CUTEST thing you've EVER seen. And you just want to jump him. But he isn't around, so you can't. And he doesn't even know you exist... and chances are that if he did, he wouldn't care... that's the other problem.

Boys also cause people to think that I'm crazy. Honestly. The other day I was on the bus and I thought of something humorous that a boy had done and I started just giggling to myself because no one else was on the bus with me, and everyone was staring at me really weird. They must've thought I was completely off my rocker. I probably am. But it doesn't change the fact that it's not my fault. I can't help it.

Boys are hard to read too. You'd think that people as overly obsessed with sex as they are, and people who don't mind smacking each other's asses after a game of football, that they wouldn't mind someone pinching their butt, right? You'd be wrong. Luckily, I didn't learn the hard way. I learned the extremely amusing observational way. I saw a girl pinch a guy's butt in the mall the other day and he totally flipped out going "DON'T DO THAT!" in the middle of the mall. And she just laughed at him. And I laughed too. But to myself. It was great. Anyways, it put thoughts into my head it did. Because now every time the image of a boy goes BAM! into my head whilst I'm studying, I think "Man, he's really cute. I want to pinch his cheeks. His butt cheeks."

I think that's a must-have on my Christmas Wish List. So, if you're wondering what to get me, and you find a SALE on CUTE BOYS: don't hesitate. I WILL love the gift.

The Saga Continues

HAHAHAHA.

More here.

GRR I'M MAD

Ok, I'm not a liar, I just did really great in kindergarten - because I always share. And now, it has come back to haunt me: I just got the greatest link EVER sent to me. And I had to share.
Here's why being a gangster is hella tyte.
Now, THIS is the final post*.








*Disclaimer: Unless something great happens and I have to share again...

Goodbye Cruel World

Ok.
This will be the last update ever. Because now no one does this anymore besides me, and frankly, I also need something to read sometimes. Some material to work with. Something to aid with my procrastination. And if you can't give ME anything, well, you get what you give, right?

So this is it.
Goodbye cruel cruel world!
I'm melting! I'm melting!
And so on.

Haha. Funniest song: Akon, Belly Dancer

Listen for the possessed midgets. Hee hee. If you wanna hear it, you know who to call.
Anyways, PEACE UP, A-TOWN DOWN.
I love you all. I'm out.
Dunja

P.S. This is ALL YOUR FAULT.

This Will Be the End of Me

So, I just wrote my Neuropsychology exam. I actually went in thinking I knew what I was talking about... Apparently not. So many questions pulled out of nowhere... This is where I will quote myself because I can't be bothered to be witty more than twice in one day (I have filled my "witty" quota"): "Stupid Prof. He made it freaking impossible. I don't think he could've pulled more questions out of his ass if all he WAS was an ass."
It was kinda weird too, because I saw him today before the exam and he said "Hi" to me. Hi. He has like 400 students in that class alone. How on earth does he know who I am? It can't be my wit and sparkling personality, because he's never heard me talk. And if he has, it was probably in his class, and I probably wasn't being witty or sparkling because I hate that class and it bores me to death and therefore he'd have no reason to remember me... Unless it was to hate me because I hate his class so he's like obligated to hate me by association or something. Anyway, I didn't think anything of it when it first happened, but now that I think about it, it must've been a bad omen. He laughed out loud, right after saying "Hi" to me, with one of his colleagues. That should've tipped me off. His little way of saying "HAHAHA! Am I ever going to screw you over and you won't even know what hit you! Sucker! In fact, you probably think I'm just being nice even as I stand here, thinking way too much for someone who only just said hi and then laughed, but really, I'm just rubbing it in your face how badly I'm going to screw you over so you can think about this later and go 'bastard' but it'll be too late because you'll already have failed and I'll already have succeeded in ruining your average... sucker! Oh, my colleague sure will enjoy it when I recount this series of unfortunate events (for you of course - and with no relation to the book) to him after we have finished enjoying our good chuckle."

He probably wasn't thinking that. That's way too much thought to occur as the word "Hi" is uttered. But still... He was thinking something along those lines, I'll bet. Except more concise - the way he wanted his short answers - which were impossible to be concise on because they were HARD and I was forced to bullshit.
Sigh. If his plot was indeed to make me think "bastard"... he succeeded.

I hate exams. They hurt my brain and make me lame. Just like this post. I'll end it now. It's senseless to let it live on.

Ho Hum... Fly's Bum

I was doing pretty good with the whole "studying" thing. I'd gotten through an entire practice question and skipped the whole second one, and even wrote out "two group design" for the third one... and then Freezy called... with good intentions to ask if I still needed the formula for calculating percentile rank... And that, ladies and gents, is when the shit hit the fan. Because, of course, we started talking about my Numero Uno Snowball Blacklist person and my *new* crush (so exciting!) and what I did today. Which was basically write a test and waste the rest. And we talked a bit about her too... I guess. (Hee hee). (And to "Da Crew" - Freezy and I are NOT in a fight because she ditched me in Development. Get over it. We're drinking buddies. Our bonds go beyond some stupid Psych class.)

Ramiro, who is fast becoming my own personal therapist (he has good listening skills... maybe because I never give him a chance to talk), I believe hit the nail on the head today when he led me to conclude that I'm really afraid of getting hurt. Which may be why I can never verbalize emotions, despite the fact that I can pretty much verbalize anything else. And this is why I stand there crying when I should be "communicating effectively" - effectively being the key word. Because as great as crying is for communication, apparently it isn't enough.

Anyways, I was just thinking "ho hum" because I'm so bored with stats, and then I thought "fly's bum" because that rhymes... and then that got me thinking about whether flies actually have a bum. And if they do, do they have intestines? I mean, are their insides pretty much like ours, except way smaller? Like, do they have tiny little hearts? 'Cause that would seriously weird me out. Does anyone know the answer to my question(s)? Please, if you know what a fly looks like on the inside... enlighten me. (And if you think I'm strange for thinking about such things, you have NO idea... imagine what I'm thinking about and NOT telling you...)

Oh, and since we're (sorta) on the topic of bums, I was wearing my jeans today that make my bum look really great (well, as far as MY bum goes) and Andrew said that if this was as good as my butt gets, then "that's not saying much."
That cut me real deep. :(

But do you know what WOULDN'T cut me deep? People buying my love. Honestly, if you ever want my love, and you don't know how to earn it: buy me stuff. I don't know why J Lo downplays this so much and makes it sound even sorta... bad. Probably because she's on crack. I mean, who dumps Ben Affleck for Marc Anthony? What is she THINKING? She's not, clearly. Because anyone that tries to disprove the statement "You think the money that you make can substitute the time you take..." is CLEARLY not thinking. I mean, YOU think about it. Wouldn't you much rather have a guy buy you nice things and take you to nice places then like... talk to you into the wee hours of the morning (haha, wee!) about Halo 2?!?! Honestly. She's clearly not dealing with the people I'm dealing with. I'd much rather they shut up and buy me something. "My love don't cost a thing"?!?!?! PUH-LEASE! Let's be realistic: most people aren't that loveable.

Feel free to try to prove me wrong on that last one.

Last thought: some lady from Blood Services called and asked me if I wanted to donate again. Hee hee. I thought it'd be really funny if they made their opening line "I VANT YOUR BLOOD". Hee hee. I told her this. She giggled. Then we were discussing where the clinic was, and she was saying "Actually, I'm calling from Northern Ontario and I have no idea where any of these places are..." She was really cool. We got quite a rapport going. She learned what school I go to and asked me what I was taking Eventually, we weren't even talking about me donating blood, we were talking about like her coming down to Toronto 'cause she's never been. Anyways, when she was getting off the phone, I was like "Thanks for calling" and she was like "No, thank you. You really made my day."
It made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. :)

I liked today. Today was a GOOD day. :)

Happy Half Birthday to Me!

Yes, you read right. Today, I officially turn 19.5!!
On this momentous occasion, the phone has rung: 0 times with calls from well-wishers. The doorbell has rung: 0 times with flowers from well-wishers. And the little MSN chat-lights have lit up: 0 times with messages from well-wishers.

This lack of well-wishers is having quite the impact on my New Year's Resolutions list. I've been working on it for quite some time. Prior to today's date, here is some of what I had going, it's pretty standard:
1)Be nicer to people.
2)Don't yell so much.
3)Don't fret over stupid things.
4)Try not to walk into things as often.
5)Attempt thinking before you speak.
But my new list consists of just one thing:
1)Get some friends, you loser. So you don't have to celebrate New Year's in your basement and so someone actually calls you on your half-birthday. For Pete's sake.

Oh, the sweetest thing: Watching "Perfect Proposal" today, and I cried my eyes out. This guy mowed "MARRY ME TAMMY" in giant letters into this field, and then took her up in a plane to propose to her. So he's been saying nice things about this girl the entire show. Like, he's never loved anyone more in his life and she's his soulmate and all that jazz, and you never hear her say anything (obviously) because it's a surprise for her, so they can't very well interview her about it. Well, AFTER the fact, the host lady asks her if she's surprised, and she goes "It's a little unexpected, but not surprising. He's a wonderful guy." Gosh. That was my cue to use up like 3 boxes of Kleenex in a foiled attempt to stop the stream of tears.

Ok, so the past few days haven't been so hot, causing me to eat lots of chocolate and ice cream -- sometimes in the form of chocolate ice cream, and watch romantic movies and shows and whatnot and cry about the sad state of my romantic affairs, (in comparison of course.) But when I saw this show, I wasn't crying about MY affairs, I was crying HAPPY tears for these two people who were clearly wonderful - and wonderful for each other. Really puts things into perspective for you. I'm not sure what that perspective is, and I can't pretend to be "deep", but I guess I realize now that being able to communicate with and feel for another person is much more important then their height.

Although I still wanna be able to wear high heels in the presence of my boyfriend. Not that I ever wear heels. But I want the option. Not that I have a boyfriend... what am I saying?

Luckily all is not lost. Chris said he'd marry me if neither of us was married by age 30. And if he ditches me for someone cooler, I can always count on George... I think. Well, he taught me something interesting actually. If a guy says something, it holds true unless he tells you otherwise at a later date. So, apparently, if he says he'll marry me if no one else will, that holds true unless he tells me he changed his mind. And he hasn't told me that yet. So if his theory is true, then he should technically marry me if no one else will. But I'm really suspicious of that theory, so in case it doesn't work out either, I'll just buy the 13 cats (even though I hate cats and they creep me out) as per previous plan and die lonely and bitter. Someone has to take the role of "creepy spinster on the edge of town". Might as well be me. I'll take one for the team -- although WHAT team I don't KNOW, because I DON'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS.

That is all.

NOTE: No names to be posted with comments. Please and thank you. This thing gets wider readership then suspected earlier. :S

Oh, and for today's "fun" link, visit ebaumsworld to watch one rapper dude get TOTALLY schooled by my hero.

That's really all I have to say on this topic.

Near-Turtle Experience

Ah. Winter is here. Snow hit the ground today and Ramiro and I spent an hour discussing how great it'll be when we have our first Snow Fort fight. Ramiro, you're true blue. Thanks for listening. And thanks for the advice. :) I say we get a Snowjob Blacklist going... we all know who MY Numero Uno would be... stupid... stupid... rant rant rant. P.S. If you're going to comment: No names please :)

The reason I'm here, in all actuality, is not to talk about our first snowfall of the season. I'm actually really back by popular demand. Allow me to demonstrate:

Perfect Stranger Boy says:
i don't want to have to kill to get on your blog. BUT I WILL IF I HAVE TO.

Paully Wally Pumpkin Face says:
UPDATE YOUR BLOG

Stupid Sexy Slota says:
i wanna be included in your next blog

Honestly, people, it's sad that this is the best form of entertainment you have. I realize that it's a procrastination tool... but you really should be able to find better. And why would anyone want to be mentioned here? It's like being mentioned on the crap-wall of fame or something. I mean, to publicly admit you know me...

Incidently, I ran into Slota in the gym today when Jessica and I went looking for our friend... Jack... And uh, he's got REALLY nice arms. And REALLY nice eyes. But I knew that from before. But the arm thing is new knowledge. But the eyes are really nice too... *sigh*

HAHA. Talking to Vonnell on the phone. She just reminded me of the time I had a near-turtle experience wearing my puffy marshmellow (is that how you spell that?) jacket, slipping on a patch of ice and not being able to get up. Oh winter, good times, good times. What about that time the old lady fell right in front of us and we were holding ice cream cones and she ran to help the lady up, but I just stood there, laughing, and the ice cream went up my nose? That's karma paying you back in the moment. Oh god. I need a life.

That is all.

Unnerving Truths

Order of business #1: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!!
Next order of business: New Year's.
Alright, so I still don't have plans. And I'm starting to freak out now. Because if I end up spending ONE MORE NEW YEAR'S EVE in my basement with my sister, I WILL FREAK. I asked Paully Wally Pumpkin Face what he was doing yesterday on our little excursion to the outside world, and he said "I'll prolly hit up some clubs downtown." But when I said "Can I come with you?", he said "Oh, I just remembered! I have to wash my hair that night..."

Pauly Wally Pumpkin Face, for those that don't know him, is bald. :(

On a complete sidenote (yes, 'tis a sidenote despite the fact that it's very lengthy. I guess it's more of a tangent then. Well whatever), I found out at some point between last entry and this entry that Pauly asked our waitress at East Side Mario's for her number. And she gave it to him. No questions asked. Despite the fact that he was sitting at a table with two extremely charming and witty young ladies (for those of you that still don't know who Paul was sitting with: Zeebs and me.) Now, what I'M curious to know is how SHE knew that Pauly wasn't dating one of us. I mean, isn't it perfectly conceivable that he's a Mack who's asking her for her number despite the fact that he's out, on a date? I mean, shouldn't she at least ASK about the girls at the table? Like "Oh, what about those girls? Are you not dating them? Or one of them?"
I'm not sure why, but I guess I found the lack of assumption on her part a little unnerving and a little offensive. I mean, am I so undatable that even a complete stranger wouldn't assume that I was on a date despite the fact that we're out on a Friday night, laughing merrily at a restaurant, dinner to be followed by a movie? (Ignore the fact that Zeebs is present because she doesn't count.) I mean... come on! I can't even PRETEND to be on a date. This is ridiculous.

Anyways, back to the topic at hand: I still don't have plans for New Year's. And, like I said, if it comes down to spending it in my basement, or shooting myself in the foot: I think I'm going to be spending the night in the E.R., and all of next semester on crutches. So, if you want to save me from my doom, please, please, offer up an alternative? (Of course, only if I know you and you know where to reach me. I don't want weird Internet people trying to capitalize on this one... although... NO! I'm not that desperate. Yet.)

Birthdays and Pants and Such

Luckily, I'm going shopping for some pants. Today. :)

It is Andrea's birthday today! It is also Nitish's birthday today! HAPPY BIRTHDAY NITISH! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDREA!

That is all. I have to go study now. :(

Telefrancais!

Oh My GOSHY GOSH!!!

Do you guys remember this show??!?!? Probably, if you went to school in Toronto grades 3-9. Oh goshy gosh!!!!

I'm talking about Telefrancais, of course, the BEST FRENCH SHOW EVER!!! Remember Ananas?!?! And the great song!?!?!? (Thanks to Perfect Stranger Boy for bringing back the memories!)

Here are the lyrics:

Telefrancais!Telefrancais!
Allo! Bonjour! Salut!
Telefrancais!Telefrancais!
Venez jouer avec nous!
C'est formidable! Exceptionnel!
C'est excellent! Sensationnel!
C'est merveilleux! C'est Magnifique!
Telefrancais fantastique!
OH!
Telefrancais!Telefrancais!
Telefrancais!

So you can sing along to THE SONG!

Bada Boom Bada Bing!

Bahahaha.

My dad went to work this morning, as per usual. I get a call at like 9:00AM, and I'm trying to sleep, so I let it ring like 20 times hoping the person will get the hint. Well they don't. So I pick up the phone and it's my dad. He asks me if he left his wallet at home. He did. So he has to drive all the way back home from work. Apparently, when they asked him where he was going, he said "Home." When they asked him if he was sick, he said "No." I really don't see where I get my verbosity from... probably my mom. She talks too much.

So this site is pretty good for funny quotes and stuff - from people off of various chat programs and whatnot. Here's one I came across AGAIN today, for like the 5th time, and it made me laugh again, so I figure it's a good one:

well I used to go to a "special" school for troubled kids, so our classes were really easy and pretty dumb. One of them was "work study" and I remember one day a few kids were playing jenga on the main "study" table, and i got the most exellent idea to grab a small model plane from the teachers desk, throw it at the blocks, then after they fell over I shouted " HEY GUESS WHO I AM?!?!"....
That's why i'm home schooled now :-(

HAHAHA. Oh man. That cracks me up. Anywho, this also reminds me of the humorous conversation I had with a perfect stranger yesterday. Allow me to demonstrate:

PICTURE OF JACK-O-LANTERN PUKING IN TOILET:
[01:16:22 AM] Dunja : www.: HAHAHAHA. your jack-o-lantern had a fun halloween
[01:16:29 AM] I've given u: oh yes he did
[01:16:33 AM] Dunja : www.: and then a not so fun november 1st morning
[01:17:14 AM] I've given u: yeah he's one crazy mo-fo
[01:17:29 AM] I've given u: we had to talk him outta jumping off the roof
[01:17:54 AM] Dunja : www.: well he's dead now anyway, isn't he?
[01:18:00 AM] I've given u: yeah
[01:18:07 AM] Dunja : www.: so that was pointless on your part
[01:18:19 AM] I've given u: Yeah that is true
[01:18:46 AM] I've given u: But it doesn't matter now does it
[01:18:55 AM] Dunja : www.: i suppose not
[01:19:04 AM] Dunja : www.: did you bury him?
[01:19:13 AM] I've given u: no the coons got'em
[01:19:19 AM] Dunja : www.: COON?
[01:19:23 AM] Dunja : www.: oooh, RAcoon
[01:19:27 AM] I've given u: lol
[01:19:27 AM] Dunja : www.: weirdo
[01:19:28 AM] I've given u: yeah
[01:19:39 AM] Dunja : www.: that first syllable is vital
[01:20:01 AM] I've given u: what other thing could a coon possibly be?
[01:20:13 AM] Dunja : www.: hmmm. good question
[01:22:40 AM] Dunja : www.: just a few other things "coon" could be include:
[01:24:01 AM] Dunja : www.: octoroon? whatever that is.... uh, oversoon.... isn't that two words? afternoon, baboon, balloon, cameroon, monsoon, moon, lampoon, macaroon, maroon, croon, protozoon (i think it's supposed to be protozoan... they're so stupid)
[01:24:14 AM] Dunja : www.: saloon
[01:24:17 AM] Dunja : www.: saskatoon
[01:24:30 AM] I've given u: damn...I got nuttin :(
[01:24:30 AM] Dunja : www.: tycoon
[01:24:33 AM] I've given u: ahhhh
[01:24:33 AM] Dunja : www.: walloon
[01:24:40 AM] I've given u: shroom
[01:24:46 AM] Dunja : www.: ok. that ends in an M
[01:24:56 AM] I've given u: damn
[01:24:58 AM] Dunja : www.: lol

EDIT

[01:31:11 AM] Dunja : www.: why are these called the "wee" hours of the morning?
[01:31:30 AM] I've given u: cause most people are drunk and need to take a piss.
[01:31:36 AM] Dunja : www.: ah. yes
[01:31:46 AM] I've given u: thats my take on the subject
[01:32:11 AM] Dunja : www.: i thought it might be because the numbers are small - so "Wee" 'cause in ye olde days people used to say "look at that wee one" when talking about a child or something
[01:32:12 AM] I've given u: or a lot of very small men are sliding down...slides
[01:32:19 AM] Dunja : www.: HAHAHAHAHAHAA
[01:32:21 AM] Dunja : www.: that's a good image
[01:32:34 AM] I've given u: I KNOW
[01:32:37 AM] I've given u: lol
[01:32:51 AM] Dunja : www.: they also used to say it when there was one runty pig. they'd be like "look at the wee one"
[01:32:59 AM] Dunja : www.: haha. it'd be funny if the runt was peeing
[01:33:04 AM] Dunja : www.: then they could say "look at the wee one wee"
[01:33:08 AM] I've given u: haha
[01:33:46 AM] Dunja : www.: and a new-english speaking person, if not provided with the image, would hear "look at the WE,ONE/WON, WE" and think that ye olde english folkes were on cracke
[01:34:05 AM] I've given u: aren't they?
[01:34:09 AM] Dunja : www.: probably
[01:34:20 AM] I've given u: i'll put money down on that
[01:34:26 AM] Dunja : www.: i dont' think we can prove it.
[01:34:31 AM] Dunja : www.: most ye olde english people are dead

EDIT

[01:47:24 AM] I've given u: I drive but have yet to shell out 10,000 buxs in insurance

NOTE: the only reason I didn't rip him to shreds when he wrote "BUXS" is because it was almost two in the morning and I was too tired to notice. If I'd noticed... I need not tell you what would've went down... luckily, he followed it up with quite a nice joke:

[01:47:42 AM] Dunja : www.: why would you have to pay 10000 for insurance?
[01:47:51 AM] Dunja : www.: do you frequently run over little old ladies?
[01:48:02 AM] I've given u: no...Babies
[01:48:07 AM] Dunja : www.: even worse
[01:48:13 AM] I've given u: yeah, its a habit
[01:48:17 AM] Dunja : www.: although i've never heard of a little old baby before...
[01:48:38 AM] I've given u: yeah cause i run them over
[01:48:42 AM] Dunja : www.: HAHAHA
[01:48:46 AM] Dunja : www.: that worked out quite nicely
[01:48:52 AM] I've given u: yes...yes it did

I have to go to school now. :( Sad days. But I'm going to East Side Mario's tonight! Hey! Bada Boom Bada Bing! (I'm excited, in case you can't tell - my life is sad.)

You Stink, Therefore I am

SPITTLE, EXCREMENT, eating fish eyes, the smell of rotting meat. Cockroaches, George W. Bush. Disgust is both powerful and pervasive in our lives.

Want to know how disgust sensitive you are? Use The Disgust Scale.

Some smells are disgusting. This dude discusses the difference between smelling and stinking. Check it. And take a shower.

A yes, web-surfing can be quite fun sometimes. And other times... well, you just realize that there are way more stupid people out there than you'd care to know about. But this girl brings up an interesting point: perhaps if I understood the stupid people the way she has begun to understand Stupid Rabbits, I wouldn't think they were so stupid anymore.
I guess it's lucky I'm taking psychology then. Although I don't recall UofT offering any "Psychology of the Stupid Person" courses. Maybe next year...

Anyways, 'tis all for tonight. Have a good one!

Away Laughing on a Fast Camel

For the first time in my life, I am at a complete loss for words. It's been a weird day like that. My sister didn't bring home the basket she took to school for like... "Grade Nine Show and Tell" because it would be extremely "gay" to carry a basket home from school. Apparently. It's a long story... My dad got mad and told her to take off her makeup. So now she's been crying for two hours. It really doesn't make sense even when you know the whole story, so there's no point in telling it. Instead, I will insert a portion from one of my favourite books in the whole entire world HERE:

8:15 a.m.
It's only 8:15 A.M. On Sunday. I want to sleep forever and ever and never wake up to life as a red-bottomed spinster.

8:30 a.m.
Maybe if I made a special plea to Baby Jesus for clemency, he would hear me. If I promise to put my red bottom aside with a firm hand, he will send the SG back to me.

8:35 a.m.
I can't pray here - Baby Jesus won't be able to hear a thing above Libby's singing. Maybe I should make the supreme sacrifice and go to God's House. Call-me-Arnold the Vicar would be beside himself with joy, and he would probably prepare a fatted whatsit... pensioner.

9:05 a.m.
What should I wear for church? Keep it simple and reverential, I think.

9:36 a.m.
My false eyelashes are fab.

9:37 a.m.
Maybe I shouldn't wear them, though, because it might give the wrong impression. It might imply that I was a bit superficial. I'll take them off.

9:38 a.m.
It has taken me ages to stick them on, though. Anyway, if God can read your every thought because of his impotence ability, He will know that I really want to wear my eyelashes and have only taken them off in case He didn't like them. They didn't have false eyelashes in ye olde Godde tymes so it is a moot point.
Perhaps He will think they are my real ones.

9:40 a.m.
But that would make Him not an impotent all-wise God, that would make Him a really dim God. Who can't even tell the difference between real and false eyelashes, even though He has been watching someone put them on for the last half an hour.
And I say that with all reverencosity.
Anyway, surely He is looking at the starving millions, not sneaking around in my bedroom.

in the loo
9:50 a.m.
Is He watching me now? Erlack.


HAHAHAHA. Oh Georgia, how I love you. If you haven't read the Georgia Nicholson series thus far: GET TO IT. The above was excerpted from the latest book in the series "Away Laughing on a Fast Camel", but if you haven't read any, you should start from the first book in the series: "Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging."
I have it to lend to anyone that is interested. :D
And boys: you should be doubly interested, because it gives you an EXACT view into the way a girl's mind works. It is so so so brilliant. They all are. I love Louise Rennison. (The author. And not in "that way" either. I'm not a lesbian. Don't get excited. You know who you are.)

Anyway, I'm off to enjoy my book. Ya'll should be doing something better with your time anyway. I've been getting muchos responses from many of you that use this as a procrastination aid (Yang, Andrea, Kosma, Scott?, and everyone else who reads this and posts their comments. You shall not be mentioned because you get mentioned enough.) Anyways, I don't want to be the one responsible for you not getting your work done. So go do it. Yes, yes, I'm very flattered you find this so amusing - I find it amusing to write. A lot more amusing than reading for my classes. (And really, everything is relative.) But just because one of us is throwing our scholarly career down the drain doesn't mean we all should be: So go do your work. NOW.

December 1 - International AIDS Day

It having been International AIDS Day and all yesterday, I decided that I would educate myself on the AIDS issue. And then I decided that I would educate you too:

HIV is the virus that causes AIDS.

H - Human: because this virus can only infect human beings.
I - Immuno-deficiency: because the effect of the virus is to create a deficiency, a failure to work properly, within the body's immune system.
V - Virus: because this organism is a virus, which means one of its characteristics is that it is incapable of reproducing by itself. It reproduces by taking over the machinery of the human cell.

A - Acquired: because it's a condition one must acquire or get infected with; not something transmitted through the genes
I - Immune: because it affects the body's immune system, the part of the body which usually works to fight off germs such as bacteria and viruses
D - Deficiency: because it makes the immune system deficient
S - Syndrome: because someone with AIDS may experience a wide range of different diseases and opportunistic infections (infections that can be life-threatening for an AIDS patient, but that a healthy immune system would be able to control).

The average time between HIV infection and the appearance of signs that could lead to an AIDS diagnosis is 8-11 years.

Worldwide: As of December 2000, an estimated 36.1 million people living with HIV/AIDS
An estimated 5.3 million new HIV infections occurred in 2000.
In the United States: According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), there are between 800,000 and 900,000 people living with HIV. Through December 2000, a total of 774,467 cases of AIDS have been reported to the CDC; of this number, 448,060 persons (representing 58% of cases) have died. (Source: Centers for Disease Control - CDC)

HIV can be transmitted from an infected person to another through:
Blood
Semen
Vaginal secretions
Breast milk

Activities That Allow HIV Transmission:
Unprotected sexual contact (of any kind)
Direct blood contact, including injection drug needles and blood transfusions (Note: Donated blood is always screened - at least, ever since 1985).
Mother to baby (before or during birth, or through breast milk)

Interesting fact that I wasn't aware of: Because of the potential for contact with blood during "French" or open-mouth, wet kissing, CDC recommends against engaging in this activity with a person known to be infected. However, the risk of acquiring HIV during open-mouth kissing is believed to be very low.

Several studies have demonstrated that latex condoms are highly effective in preventing HIV transmission when used correctly and consistently. These studies looked at uninfected people considered to be at very high risk of infection because they were involved in sexual relationships with HIV-infected persons. The studies found that even with repeated sexual contact, 98-100% of those people who used latex condoms consistently and correctly remained uninfected.

Stay Safe!

Those Aren't Words

Uninherent is not a word. And neither is noninherent. Or outherent.

George thinks that "inherent" is a silly word that sounds like a fish. :S
George says: I would never use inherent anyways
George says: it's a silly word
George says: sounds like a fish
George says: 'what're we gonna catch pa?'
George says: 'inherents, son.. get the bait'

Weirdo.

On a completely unrelated topic: Sometimes psychologists do useless studies. Case in point here: G.I. Joe Too Buff? This article is a good read. Check it.

'Tis the Season

10:38 p.m.
MY ROOM

Eating "Holiday Snack Cakes". I suppose what distinguishes "holiday" treats from regular ones is the red and green and white sprinkles you find on the holiday snacks. So festive.

Why am I discussing "Holiday Snack Cakes"? - the reasons are twofold: 1. I cannot fall asleep in my house before midnight. It is an impossible feat. I've tried it on numerous occasions, and I just can't do it.
I'm not really to blame though. I was in bed at approximately 9:50 p.m. Everything is going smoothly, until my sister decides to take a shower. I'm just drifting off to sleep when she starts singing. Because that's what she does in the shower. She sings. 20 minutes later, she's out, and I'm thinking "finally." I start drifting off to sleep again, when the blow-dryer starts up. Now she's drying her hair. Well, it's okay as long as she keeps her door closed. I can filter it out. My dad comes upstairs and decides that he's going to start up his Microsoft Flight Simulator. God, that narrator dude's voice is ANNOYING. He finally starts putting me to sleep with his litling speech patterns, (akin to those of professor Espie who will put even the most resolute student to sleep in the morning) when my mom comes into my room. Instead of just walking out like a normal person who has just realized that there is SLEEPING going on, she walks into the room and says "Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" I don't answer. Instead of walking out, she says "I didn't mean to. I didn't know you were sleeping." I don't answer. Instead of walking out, she says "Are you sleeping?" I say "Not anymore." She says "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." I'm thinking "GET THE HELL OUT", she goes "Sorry." Again. Then she walks into the workroom where my dad is still "flying" and goes "Dunja's sleeping." Oh for PETE'S SAKE! That's when I got out of bed and turned on my computer.

The other reason I'm discussing "Holiday Snack Cakes" is that 2. I'm eating them. And I'm eating them because I eat chocolate when I feel sad. And I feel sad because Ramiro said something very noteworthy (and I thank him for his truthfulness - you're true blue dude!): "If it hasn't happened up until now, it's not going to happen."

That is just SO true, and SO hard that I was forced to suppress the thought the entire day, (otherwise I may have done something silly) and it only really hit me when I was TRYING to fall asleep. Because, the truth is, I'm crazy. I get myself into these situations and then I can't get myself out. And I don't learn either.

It's too bad there's no band-aid solution, because I'm good at those. And it's too bad I can't divert my attention to something else - because I don't even know what I'm diverting my attention from. And I just realized that anyone who is still reading this and doesn't know exactly what I'm talking about will think that I have serious psychological issues. But I don't. I really really don't. (I know that "That's what they all say..." But I mean it.) It's not even a big deal. At all. Or maybe I just feel that way now... now that I've eaten 3 "Holiday Snack Cakes"! :O I'm such a fatty! That's gonna haunt me in the morning... Especially if George starts talking about fatties on Oprah again...


P.S. It's probably the holiday Coke and Hallmark commercials talking. You know I'll be over it in a week.

Further Adventures In George-Land

So ya'll know my pal George. He's the one that cut me up during our last visit to George-Land (The Infamous Quince Incident). Yeah. He's pretty cool. Anyways, yesterday we were having a conversation. Well, actually, it was more like him talking and me not really paying attention because I was busy updating my blog - but he was very entertaining in the in-betweeny time when I was trying to think up what to write. Anywho, I thought that I would share some of the highlights of George-Land with you, so here goes:

[11:36:19 PM] George: so my dumbbell broke
[11:36:47 PM] George: rendering the matching dumbbell useless
[11:37:38 PM] George: and completely ruining a potentially great workout
[11:40:00 PM] George: it would be sort of like if you were playing with your Barbies and it was going great and suddenly her hair came off
[11:40:42 PM] George: as toy Ken was stroking it
[11:41:30 PM] D : www.: OH MY GOSH!
[11:41:34 PM] D : www.: that'd be horrible
[11:41:39 PM] D : www.: i would cry
[11:41:40 PM] D : www.: did you cry?
[11:41:50 PM] George: !!
[11:41:52 PM] George: almost
[11:42:58 PM] D : www.: wow. i'm so sorry george
[11:43:08 PM] D : www.: and i'm also glad you used that analogy to bring the pain of the experience to life for me

EDIT

[11:44:19 PM] D : www.: i'll buy you a new barbie
[11:44:22 PM] D : www.: i mean dumbell
[11:44:52 PM] George: barbie's a loser
[11:45:10 PM] George: oprah gave some fatty a house today
[11:45:32 PM] George: i was like wtf? why does she deserve a house and not me?
[11:49:38 PM] D : www.: because she's fat
[11:49:57 PM] George: i am too though
[11:50:20 PM] George: actually at first she just gave all of the fatty's kids all these toys
[11:50:49 PM] George: and then she's all 'well, I was thinking how are you going to fit all of those toys into that little apartment?'
[11:50:58 PM] George: uh here's an idea.. give them less toys?
[11:51:16 PM] George: maybe some cash for food instead
[11:55:13 PM] D : www.: lol
[11:55:16 PM] D : www.: you are so brilliant

This is the part where I started thinking that perhaps George should audition to be the next Oprah. He'd be Oprah -- with a twist. Like give all the fatty's kids toys, and then be like "I wonder where all those new toys are going to fit--- WHY DON'T YOU EAT THEM LIKE YOU EAT EVERYTHING ELSE, FATTY?!!?!" I could totally see him doing that... anyways...

I cut out a whole portion of the convo because it was a discussion about alligators or something -- not exciting, but this, on the other hand:
[12:02:32 AM] George: did you see the hag that knocked off Jennings on Jeopardy?
[12:03:05 AM] D : www.: no. but i'm glad he FINALLY got knocked off
[12:03:30 AM] George: really, why?
[12:03:59 AM] D : www.: because he won too much money
[12:04:16 AM] George: oh.. s'up commie.
[12:04:26 AM] D : www.: hahahahaa
[12:04:59 AM] George: let's have some borsch
[12:05:30 AM] George: that's cabbage soup.. i think
[12:05:42 AM] D : www.: i don't know what borsch is
[12:05:45 AM] D : www.: i think it's jewish
[12:05:48 AM] D : www.: jews aren't commies
[12:07:51 AM] George: naw, Russian
[12:08:12 AM] D : www.: you know, there are such things as russian jews?
[12:08:32 AM] George: did i argue that?
[12:08:40 AM] D: www.: no. i'm just saying we could both be right
[12:09:16 AM] George: but you're saying that it's exclusive to russian jews?
[12:09:42 AM] D : www.: uh..... i'm saying it's exclusive to any
jews. you're making it more exclusive by saying they must be russian
[12:10:03 AM] George: ah, well then I believe that you're greatly mistaken
[12:10:33 AM] D : www.: i believe your mom was greatly mistaken when she decided to keep you

OOOOH SNAP SNAP SNAP! (If I do say so myself... and I do...

[12:11:22 AM] George: i believe you suck
[12:11:24 AM] George: zing!
[12:11:43 AM] D : www.: i think my zinger was more zingy
[12:11:47 AM] D: www.: and you can't even argue that
[12:11:57 AM] D : www.: at least not legitimately
[12:12:31 AM] George: you're such a borsch lover

WHAAAAA?

[12:12:52 AM] D : www.: gosh, what's with the insults tonight?
[12:13:08 AM] D : www.: i realize the barbell thing was traumatic for you... but come off it
[12:13:25 AM] George: it was a dumbbell

HAHAHAHAHAA

[12:13:39 AM] D : www.: you're a DUMBbell
[12:15:02 AM] George: listen, just admit that i'm right on the borsch
[12:15:28 AM] D : www.: i can't. i haven't done any research and have nothing but your word to go on
[12:15:42 AM] D : www.: and frankly... i'm a little concerned about YOUR sources
[12:15:49 AM] D : www.: i mean... who watches oprah?
[12:16:24 AM] George: i'm *telling* you that i'm right, i would never lead you wrong
[12:16:53 AM] D : www.: BOYS LIE
[12:17:32 AM] George: nah
[12:17:55 AM] D : www.: that's a lie right in itself
[12:18:51 AM] George: well, I mean, of course everybody lies sometimes.. you just have to know who can trust with borsch knowledge and who you can't
[12:18:58 AM] George: *you
[12:19:40 AM] D : www.: i know you're a produce guy and
everything, but i'm kinda iffy about your knowledge of the origins of borsch
[12:20:39 AM] George: iknow about everything.. i'm like that dude on jeopardy only minus 2.5 million dollars

I'm warning you: If you don't think it's already gone downhill - it TOTALLY goes downhill from here:

MAJOR EDIT

[12:46:03 AM] D : www.: i love godiva chocolate
[12:46:52 AM] George: then maybe you should marry it
[12:47:11 AM] D : www.: no. i'm marrying you
[12:48:17 AM] George: ok, but Godiva chocolate's not invited
[12:48:18 AM] D : www.: gosh, that's so typical of boys. you tell them you'll marry them and they don't say anything for five years

NOTE: by five years, I mean one minute.

EDIT

[12:55:27 AM] D: www.: oh george. i must go to bed
[12:55:55 AM] George: alrighty
[12:56:10 AM] George: good night =)
[12:56:24 AM] D : www.: i shall think of you often and miss you lots
[12:56:40 AM] George: aww @ that.. bye

It totally rocks when I don't have to try for my blog updates... Maybe I should just get George to update this thing directly... it would save me some time...

Well, I'm out!

Frontal Lobe Development and the Inhibition of Responses

According to my research, "Perhaps the most commonly observed trait of frontal-lobe patients is their difficulty in using information from environmental cues to regulate or change their behavior. This difficulty manifests itself in a number of ways" one of them being an inability to engage in response inhibition. "Patients with frontal-lobe lesions consistently perseverate on responses in a variety of test situations - particularly those in which there are changing demands... Shifting response strategies is particularly difficult for people with frontal lesions... demonstrating that the frontal lobe is necessary for flexibility in behavior." (Kolb & Wishaw, p 408)

I hope all of this hasn't bored you because there IS a purpose to my madness.

Remember when I was talking about people who write "suxs" despite the fact that the letter "x" automatically pluralizes the word because it takes over for all three last letters, that is "cks"? Well, hear me out here: In lecture, my prof said that the frontal lobes don't fully develop in people until their mid-twenties. Could it be, then, that the people I am talking to are experiencing delayed development of their frontal lobes resulting in an inability to inhibit the automatic response of pluralizing a word by adding an "s" despite the fact that the "x" automatically pluralizes the word? That is, they cannot inhibit the "default" behavior of adding an "s" to pluralize a word because they haven't fully developed the cortical structures required to do so. Therefore, they are just developmentally retarded, and I shouldn't really call them stupid because they're not unintelligent - just slow...

Yes. That is the conclusion I have come to. People who put an "s" after an "x" in the context discussed above are frontal-lobe development challenged, or "slow" as I like to call them.

Wow. I knew that one day my insults would have a scientific basis. This is so exciting!

References: Kolb, B. and Wishaw, I. (2003). Fundamentals of Human Neuropsychology. (5th edition). New York: Worth Publishers.