1,000 HITS!

Sometime between my last post and this one, that hit counter came up to 1,000!! I'd like to thank my fans for this momentous occasion - yeah! You guys rock for liking my blog (or me) enough to sit there hitting "refresh" for hours! (I appreciate it.)

To mark this amazing day in history, I bring you a link to the funniest site since the creation of the Internet: Uzair's Fansite

Ch-check it out!

For the Good of the Whole

I made a schedule for myself yesterday... a study schedule, so that my failing streak wouldn't repeat itself (although "failing streak" is kinda a misnomer since I haven't actually failed anything yet, and I did really well on one test... but I'll call it a failing streak anyway since it's more motivating that way)... According to the schedule, I'm supposed to be working on stats now. But I'm not. What does this tell you? I'll tell you what this tells you: it tells you that even when I TRY, even when I implement a time-honoured PROVEN tool, even when I motivate myself by telling myself that if I do what I'm supposed to, not only will I get the long-term gain of a good mark, but also the short term gain of a cookie (!), I still fail. I ask you, my dear compadres, what is wrong with me? (And Zeeshan, stop calling me fat. We get it. You said it. It's done now. Don't be bitter because of that letter I sent you... Omar helped too. I don't see you calling HIM fat.) And how do I fix it? HOW? Please, give me your study tips and suggestions so I can be smart like the rest of you... (haha. I crack myself up sometimes.)

In other but RELATED news, I've figured out that I have too many friends: They are mainly the things responsible for me not getting my work done. They call me at the most inopportune times, they show themselves and beg to be talked to with their "talk to me!!" looks just when I'm about to head for the library, and if I ever DO make it to the library, there are more friends there procrastinating and asking me to join in their procrastination. And that's just at school. Let us not forget the friends that fill my weekends with plans so that I have no time left to study, and that demand to see me weekday nights because they haven't seen me in "forever". I mean, I know I'm loveable, but can we FOCUS ON WHAT'S IMPORTANT PLEASE?
Now I know what you're all thinking: "But Dunja, our friendship with you IS important." And that's true. Friendships are probably the only thing that sustain us through life when everything else goes down the shitter. But too many friendships, as illustrated above, can be harmful. Just like everything else in life, friendship is only good in moderation. Therefore, I have decided that I'm going to have to cut some friends - this will be good for all of us, trust me. Think of the benefits: you'll have more time to study, you'll save on Birthday and Christmas gifts, you won't have to memorize new phone numbers and schedules of mine, you won't have to let me photocopy your notes or buy me stuff from Timmies (since it's on your way). No more accompanying anyone to the bathroom, or waiting for someone to get out of the bathroom if you can't accompany them (for whatever reason.) No more picking up the phone in the middle of your favourite show, no more having to call someone 'cause you said you would, no more listening to lame stories you weren't interested in hearing in the first place just so you get a turn to tell YOUR story... I mean, think of all the time you'll save!!
Now that I've completely sold you on the idea of cutting down on some friends, I'd like you to comment if you'd like to be removed from my "friends" list. Your requests shall be filled on a first come, first served basis. I'm assuming there will be huge demand, but if there isn't, I shall have to cut some friends that just aren't cutting it (no pun intended) myself... please, don't make this any more difficult then it already is: Comment, for the good of the whole!

TRAVIS TUCKER (and my "triumphant" return)

Aw.
It's real cute how y'all miss me when I'm gone. :)
I find that I actually get more hits when I don't update. Which is weird. But also akin to real life. I've noticed that people care a lot more about why I'm quiet when I'm not talking then they do about what I'm saying when I am...

Well anyway, the last few days have been really hectic and haven't even really given me much material to work with, which is a shame. I got my nails done, so it's a lot harder to type now. I must make every key-strike count! Wow, that was a waste...

I've had a couple disappointments these past few days:
1) I bombed yet two more tests. Which now leaves me on a 3/4 bombing streak.
2) I spent all the money I've earned thus far in one ill-planned, ill-timed, badly coordinated shopping spree with my sister (coincidentally the weekend before my bombed tests... I wonder what I was trying to 'escape' with that one...)
and 3) Boy troubles have returned. Sighity sigh sigh.(SSS?) I've had one cancellation, one horrible embarrassment, and one HORRIBLY timed confession - and those three aren't even remotely related. It's been a busy week...

I have one piece of good news to share: George finally snapped out of his "I'm going to be stubborn" attitude and decided to put an end to the hiatus our relationship has been on. And I'm grateful, since a dose of reality from his perspective has sorely been missed since he ditched me. Or I ditched him. However that went down. I don't really remember, it was a while ago.

George told me to tell you guys that Bach didn't write the Ninth Symphony in one night (in response to your missing me)... but I don't think Bach wrote THE Ninth Symphony at all... which would mean that either a) George thinks I shouldn't update my blog anymore, or b) George confused Bach with Beethoven. Which is conceiveable... at least more so then me never updating my blog again... even though Bach and Beethoven were separated by several hundred years... and the genres were completely different... I mean, we're talking Baroque and Classical/Romantic here... we're talking Brandenburg Concerto vs. the Drink Milk Love Life song... like... hello?!?

George witnessed "Diffusion of Responsibility" - a Social Psychology phenonmenon we've been studying today. I shall now share his story with you to illustrate said phenomenon and bring it to life:

George says: this group of people got off the bus at lawrence and bathurst and they crossed the street
George says: and this one kid (about 10) tried to climb over the dirty ice piled on the side of the street and as he gets to the top, he slips on it and does a full flip, landing on top of the dirty ice. he then proceeds to tumble onto the sidewalk where he lay for about half a minute while about 10 people stood there, twiddling their thumbs and waiting for the stoplight to change
George says: the kid finally gets up and tries to laugh it off, while limping in pain and some old lady finally goes 'are you ok?'

And that, my dears, is why when bad things happen to good people... they tend to only get worse... Moral of the story: Don't slip on ice with only the TTCT or "Thumb Twiddling Club of Toronto" as your backup...

In other good news, my favouritest American Idol, TRAVIS TUCKER (can I get a WHA WHAAAT?!?!) contestent is STILL IN THE RUNNING!!!

...The stamp collection is coming along marvelously... thank you for asking...

And now I'm off to drool over this picture of Travis Tucker... *drools*

LOL Is Dead

Welcome to a new era. (I wrote ear the first time, then I had to go back and edit it. If I were Fahad, you'd all think I was welcoming you to an ear. You'd also probably think I was a complete crackhead because I'd be typing as follows: I'll bet you're wondering what I'm typing now, aren't you? Assholes. Oh shit. I was intent on making a bunch of mistakes, but I'm just too good. I haven't made a single typo yet!!! Shitty shitty bang bang. I can't even be Fahad if I try!!! I'm a failure at failing!! In fact... I wear FAILURE PANTS!!!! And I can't even fail properly!... Shut up...)

Anyways, LOL is dead.

"Dunja, look at my knee! Look! Before it goes away!!! Is that normal?" - Sonja
"Yeah." - Dunja
"NO IT ISN'T!!! FEEL! FEEL THE DIFFERENCE!!!" - Sonja
"What the fuck are you talking about?" - Dunja
"Ok, it's normal now." - Sonja
"Idiot." - Dunja
"Hey! Look what I can do!!" (Proceeds smacking her legs together and making a 'plopping' sound. Idiot.) "Plop Plop!" - Sonja
"Moron." - Dunja

Most geniuses are misunderstood.
Here's some of her genius I didn't have trouble understanding: "LOL IS NO MORE! WELCOME TO LLL! LOL'S COUSIN! LAUGHITY LAUGH LAUGH!!! You know you love it..."

And thus, a new era (not ear)... the era of the LLL was born.
The end.

Happy Valentine's Day! (But I Love You the Other 364 Days of the Year Too!)

Valentine's Day: so dreaded, so anticipated, so emotionally charged. So positive a message that gets lost faster than a pretzel in the massive multiple folds of *insert your name here*'s mom's dough-like torso.

Valentine's day was originally supposed to be about some priest (or something) in Spain (or something) that loved some girl and sent her a letter (or something). Note: My only formal education on the origin of the holiday occurred in the third grade, long before I cared to pay attention to much more than how much candy was being deposited into the tiny boxes we had spent a week crafting (because my teacher was a lazy-ass moron who couldn't be bothered to teach us anything useful, unless you find that glueing glitter and little red hearts onto a box is a useful skill to have... in which case I have to wonder about your hobbies). Also, this lesson about amazing passionate love and devotion was being told by a woman who had proven herself delusional on more than one occasion (she tried to teach the class Scottish Dancing once, and her only instruction was "This music is from MY homeland!" as if though that statement at the right intensity was magically going to motivate us going in the right direction and understanding what this wheezing noise emitting from the tape deck was). So naturally, I didn't pay the story much heed. In fact, pretty much everything I "learned" in the third grade I decided to disregard as I was almost positive the (mis)information was a product of Ms. Campbell's flights of fancy, and this is why I cannot write in Cursive (among other things - yes, I blame the system).

Anyway, what the holiday was originally about (although I'm not sure what that was, exactly) has gotten morphed. (I know this because every holiday has - take Christmas - which turned from the Birth of Christ (baby in manger) into a fat man in a red suit squeezing down a chimney to deliver presents under an evergreen tree decorated with lights and glass orbs, - and Easter - which turned from Our Lord and Savior being persecuted and crusified into rabbits laying chocolate eggs inside your house and delivering more presents along the way... WTF? Did the whole (Christian) world take a giant hit of crack at some point and never come out of their high mental state?)

Apparently so. Because now Valentine's Day has turned into the one day a year you're supposed to show people you care. And this isn't the "give your sweety a hug, ask them how their day was" caring. Or the "I will come pick you up at 4 in the morning because you are drunk off your ass on an intersection somewhere in downtown Toronto" caring. Or even the "I shall hold back your hair while you puke because we got drunk because you were trying to get over that asshole who dumped you for that dumbass skinny hoe" caring. Because these types of caring aren't Valentine's Day caring. No, real caring isn't measured by how "there" you are for someone throughout the year anymore, but how much you spend on them on trivialities that don't mean anything on one day a year. This is the "Go out and max out your credit card on chocolate and flowers and stuffed animals (because these three things are supposed to be the ultimate symbols of love and devotion - just as a rabbit laying chocolate eggs somehow symbolizes the Passion of Christ, and an obese diabetic symbolizes His birth) - and don't do it just for your sweetheart - do it for all of your co-workers, your classmates, your teachers, your neighbours, your family, your friends, your pets, your internet pals, your aquaintances, complete strangers... just... buy cards that say things like 'You're swell!' and hand them out. To everyone. Because this is the day of love. And you love everyone. Don't you? At least today..." holiday. And this makes it easy.

It's easy to care for someone one day out of the year. To go out and buy flowers and give them to someone. It's hard to be there for someone 24/7, 365. And that's exactly why Valentine's Day is the single most prosperous holiday for businesses of the entire YEAR (it takes the cake over Christmas!) Because Valentine's Day makes loving someone convenient.

Only problem is, last time I checked, love had nothing to do with convenience. In fact, love can be more likened to ultimate sacrifice. Or am I just being dramatic?

I've thought about this a lot over the years, and I always blamed my unfavourable view on bitterness about being alone on this big day - not having anyone to send out a song to me over the radio, or buy me flowers, or plushies...
But this year I got the plushy and the candy. So it can't be bitterness. It has to be a general distaste for trying to make something wonderful into something doable in our hurried lives. I mean, isn't it even a little sad that the only time we ever hear sweet slow-song dedications anymore IS on this one day a year? Don't people ever just want to make one another feel special? Do we really need a holiday for it? And isn't it the same with any other holiday for that matter? Birthdays? I mean, "I like you all year round, but now on this one day I have to prove it by BUYING you something"? I mean, it's a nice gesture - but it's sad when nice gestures have to be institutionalized, socialized, perscribed, taught in schools... no?

I don't know. Maybe it's just me. I mean, I don't mind sweet gestures on Valentine's Day. I think they're admirable. I think they're wonderful. As long as they are a cross-situational representation of what you do for someone on a regular basis anyway - and not a shortcut or a cop-out or something forced, as I fear they often are.

On that note, since you all know that I love you on a regular basis, and this isn't anything forced or a shortcut of any kind ("If you need me, call me, no matter where you are, no matter how faaaar..."): Happy Valentine's Day!

NUMBER 6!!

Number 6!!
You read right... 6!!!
That is all.

The Weekend of the (Birthday) Party

"The Weekend of the (Birthday) Party" came and went without much fanfare and only one spectacular incidence (I'm not calling Nelly's salmon dip creation or my stealing of a MILF's grinding partner 'spectacular'... although they both were.) I'm talking about mine and Zeebs' uncanny ability to guilt Pauly Wally Pumpkin Face into joining us for a night out on the town yet once again, despite the fact that he keeps swearing it off. We have an unspoken understanding, Zeebs and I, and that is that one of us shall soften Pauly, and one of us shall deliver the conquering blow. Yesterday, I was the softening force, accusing him of not really wanting to hang out with us as every time we're supposed to do something together,we have to beg and plead him into it. Which is true, but something you shouldn't tell someone nonetheless. It's like telling someone they smell. It may be true, but you should keep it to yourself. Unless you're me.

The rest of the weekend, nothing went according to plan. Jess' grandma got sick, so Jess wasn't able to go out to celebrate her birthday. She was sorely missed. (HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESS!)Andrea didn't really have a very good reason for missing the festivities besides that her friend is gay, which isn't a very good reason at all. But she's the one that missed out. And she WASN'T sorely missed. Sucker.

We didn't hit up Milwaukee's as was originally the plan, as Milwaukee's is closed until March 3rd. And that's if it EVER reopens. Which it might not. I'm sorry to see it go. :(
We went to Havana instead which was like the Cougars of the World Annual Convention because there were about 10 too many people over 40 in that 'club' (read: shoebox). Ew. But they played really good music, and none of the old men touched me, and it started to die down by the time we were supposed to go home, so, for the first time ever, I wasn't sorry to leave the party. Bonus. (That's me: forever the optimist.) Also, the bartenders knew what they were doing: speedy service, and tasty drinks (no skimping on the alcohol either). Two thumbs up.

On Friday, Nelly's salmon dip creation with my help was the hit of Teresa's party, (or so I hear, as I wasn't present.) I would just like to say, for the record, that this weekend I participated in educating dear sweet innocent now 18-year-old Nelly in yet another "way of the world" by showing her the proper way to slice onions. Yeah! The last time I participated in a Rite of Passage starring Nelly was when I showed her how to make orange juice from frozen concentrate. That's one of the bonuses of having a younger (and slightly developmentally retarded) friend: you get to participate in their "growing up" process, then marvel at how little they've actually changed since you met them in the summer of 1998.

I started reading "Life of Pi", and although I'm only on the 8th chapter, would like to recommend it to everyone who enjoys a good read. And now I must be off to conquer the rest of my weekend since a week of studying awaits. Argh Maties! And down with Boxhood! (Unless Shabil is delivered to me soon. Muahaha.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY NELLY!!

Aw! My little girl is all grown-d up! 18! Awww. The big ONE-EIGHT! AWWW!!

Smelly it's your birthday... happy birthday smelly... smelly it's your birthday... happy birthday smelly!!!

That is all.

Spaz

spaz or spazz
( P ) Pronunciation Key (spz) Offensive Slang
n. pl. spazz·es
One who is considered clumsy or inept.
intr.v. spazzed, spazz·ing, spazz·es
To be clumsy or inept.

[Short for spastic, and spasm.]


On an unrelated note: Happy Birthday to Mo!

Attack of the Weirdos

So on Monday, this weird guy comes up to me and Andrew and my two friends as we're in line for Timmies, (I think the weird guy was from our school because... well why else would he be there? Plus, he looked sorta familiar, although totally random...) and he goes to Andrew "This one has been passed around more than a bar of soap" or something equally nonsensical but none-the-less insulting whilst pointing to me. WTF?
We all kinda stared at each other, and since no one claimed responsibility for knowing the loser, we started asking each other if we knew that guy. It was very strange.
Then today on the bus on the way home, I'm sitting in the stupid windy portion in the middle where you have to really cramp up when people walk by because it's a very cramped space (I'd like to mention that I specifically told Mini I didn't want to sit there for this VERY reason, but she ignored me... because that's her job) Anyways, this old OLD man walks by, and I'm cramping up since that's MY job, and he's all like "I wouldn't mind touching you." Ew.
It was so gross.

Do I have a giant "If you're a weirdo, say lude things to me!" stamped on my forehead? Where do these people get off?
Je suis confuse.

There was a Foti sighting at the Dry Cleaners today. Apparently this is the hottest guy that ever comes by the place, according to my coworkers - but I didn't find him that incredible. Maybe he grows on you. Like mold.
I suppose anything is possible once you come into contact with enough gariatrics. Anyone under age forty starts to look yummy. (I shudder at the thought...)

Also, I think the No Frills guy came into the store. You know THE No Frills guy. But I'm not sure if it was him. I was re-experiencing Ribfest - which was my last out-of-context sighting of this guy. You know how when you see someone out of context? Like, a school aquaintance at a bar? Or a coffee place aquaintance at... a shoe store? Or something? And you get all confused 'cause you know them, but you don't know where from? Well, I had that. At Ribfest, and again today. If it was in fact the No Frills guy today. Because it might've just been a random guy that looked familiar to me for no particular reason.
Luckily, I didn't make an ass of myself, so it won't make a huge difference either way.

That is all.

P.S. Remind me to define the word "spaz" for Uzi, since he has been using it quite liberally lately to mean literally anything and everything. Weirdo.

OWN IT!

Yeah, so today OWNED!

I woke up feeling all happy because I was well rested and knew I looked glorious because my hair was working yesterday and there wasn't a single lurker lurking on my face. HOORAH! I thought happy thoughts about happy people that make me happy and feel warm and snuggly and... warm. Aw. It was swell.
Then I went downstairs and made myself some pizza and listened to some tunes I haven't listened to in a long while. I was tempted to dance around in my underwear, as is customary in our household, but I restrained myself and actually put pants ON before I started dancing. Yes. 'Tis a miracle. Then I got ready for work, all the while thinking, "Wow, isn't this swell?" and so on. On the way to work, I ALMOST slipped on a patch of black ice... like, my leg was halfway where it should never be, but I caught myself. This coincidence made me even happier because I thought "Wow, if I'd just fallen, I could've killed myself! But I didn't! That's AWESOME!" And then as I was going down the little hill to jay-walk across the road, I slipped in the muddy-mud 'cause it's all muddy 'cause it's been raining lately and also the snow is melting... anyway, and I almost fell head-on into oncoming traffic, but I caught myself again. And I thought "Wow Dunja! God totally doesn't want you to die today!" This made me super happy. So I got to work all happy and I was all happy thinking "Wow, the only thing that could make today any better is if HE called." But then Josie told me we get paid today! Wow! I hadn't even thought that was an option! So I got paid today!!! And also, this cute guy named Chris came in to pick up his shirt! And he was cute!
On the way home, I jogged 'cause I was so happy and full of energy, and I was singing "JUST GOT PAID AND I GOT A LITTLE MONEY TO BUUUUURN!!!!" Oh. It was so hot.
I ran into my neighbour, who heard me singing, and he was all like "What're you doing this weekend?" And that made me even happier than I already was because I know I have plans for this weekend, and they're good plans. They're really good plans. Like, I'm going out and partying on Saturday. And then on Sunday... well. They're good plans. :D So I was all like "I gotta get laid gotta find me a sexy..." And he looked at me weird. And I said "I have to go."
And that brings me to now. In exactly 20 minutes, American Idol will be bringing me muchos laughs, and I will be feeling happier than I've ever felt in my life!
Oh my gosh!!
What a great day!!!
I LOVE TODAY!!
FEBRUARY 8, 2005 ROCKS MY SOCKS!!!!
YES!!!!

P.S. The only way this day could get better is if he calls. Which he won't. Not that this day needs to get better, because it's already SO GREAT. But just in case someone is wondering if there was anything that could make me any happier at this moment: well, there is. And that's it. There's always something you want... no matter how great things are.

Stop Calling Me!

Ok losers.
I know you all think it's very funny, but it's not.
STOP CALLING ME!!

Ever since last entry, I have received countless calls from "friends" wishing to harrass me. That's not what I meant when I said "call me."

When I said "call me" I meant "Tell me what's new with you, what you've been up to, ask me what's new with me, let us talk like the good old days before the internet and before we only saw each other when we were drunk and had conversations befitting our drunken state."

Okay? That's what I meant.

I didn't mean: call me to rag on me about my "single" status, or to bug me to go out with you when I'm too damned tired, or too damned lazy, or whatever the case may be. Don't call me to tell me about the crap you just took (you know who you are...), or to tell me that I smell so bad you can smell me from 8 rows down in lecture (you know who YOU are).

Do, however, keep me updated on any embarrassing experiences you might have, ranging from slipping on ice in front of a cute girl to telling your friend's mom she's sexy before realizing it's not your friend... that sort of thing I can appreciate and laugh at you (not with you) about. C'est bon.

That is all, mes petits amis!
And by "petit amis" I don't mean "boyfriends" I mean quite literally "little friends". Just thought I'd clear that up in case of any mass confusion (as I'm sure it would ensue, as you are all a little stupid.)

I Have No Friends (Again)

School makes Dunja cry.

I haven't been very inspired to write in this thing lately. Nothing even remotely worth noting is happening. School is boring and tedious and stressful, work is (already) boring, sitting at home is boring. It's a boring kind of thing that I'm going through. Except for when I'm stressing or feeling tedious. Notice the trend? You wouldn't wanna be me.

The highlight of my week thus far was Tuesday or something. "Rich Girl" came on the radio while I was getting ready to go out, and my sister turned it waaaaay up. We danced like crazy all over the second story of the house. That was hot. I have this weird picture of her doing it in her underwear, although that may not have been this Tuesday. I might just be pasting her various walks and dances around the house in her underwear onto her dancing on Tuesday. It's possible. Memory is extremely falliable. Is that how you spell that?

And yesterday at work this old man was coming on to me. Sigh. I wish my faulty memory was responsible for that. *shudders*

Oh! I just remembered something cool that's happened recently. Pauly Wally called me last night. It was so nice of him, and that is so rare an occurance, that when I heard his voice on the other end of the line I almost passed out on the floor of my room, which, by the way, isn't carpeted. That would've hurt. But yeah, I didn't really get a chance to pay too much attention to him (as I was stressing about stats), and he "had to go" very suddenly, but it was still nice to hear from him.
None of my friends call me anymore. :(

Maybe that's why I have nothing to write about.
Come on friends! Be friends and make me merry!!!
That's all.

P.S. Did you know that since mouthwash contains alcohol, many people who rinse before driving blow over when the breathalizer comes around? Like, I don't mean blow over in the wind or something and start drifting away or anything like that, although that would be quite funny now that I have the mental picture in my head, but blow over on the breathalizer - i.e. over the limit. Something to keep in mind...