Boys Boys Boys

These nails have got to go. They are now severely impeding my typing ability to the point where chatting with people I usually enjoy chatting with has become a chore and updating my blog is pure hell. Or maybe it's just that the people I usually enjoy chatting with have all suddenly turned into ASSHOLES who don't EMPATHIZE with me anymore and that I have nothing to put in my blog but how badly my life sucks, and really, reflecting on the suckiness of one's life long enough to bitch about it eloquently is bound to make anyone cranky.

My day, summarized in George vs. Dunja format (he makes me SO mad):

Dunja: hi
George: hi hi
Dunja says: today i gave some lady 11 cents in change because she told me to, but i only owed her 6
George says: she told you to?
Dunja says: yeah. i gave her six, she's like, you owe me 11, and in the moment i doubted myself and just complied with her request
George says: when did you realize your error?
Dunja says: while i was making it
George says: that's a sad story.
Dunja says: i know
George says: you should've snapped on her
George says: and thrown the change in her wrinkly, fat face
Dunja says: no. i was just like "enjoy your 5 cent gum that my boss bought for you, bitch" and she was like "what did you say?" and i was like "i have the good sense to scratch my itch?"
Dunja says: and she was like "oh..."
George says: and then you poked her fat, wrinkly eyes out with a coat hanger?
Dunja says: well no, i just stood there, watching her walk out of my life with 5 cents that weren't rightfully hers, frozen to the spot like the loser that i am
Dunja says: the entire thing happened in major slow motion
Dunja says: then this guy that always comes in, marshall, comes in, and this guy thinks i'm a RETARD
Dunja says: the first time he came in and i was working, there was like major psychadelic music playing in the background 'cause my boss is weird like that, all doped up on the chemicals from the drycleaning thingy i suppose
Dunja says: anywhoooo, marshall walks in and he's like "did you tie dye my shirts"
Dunja says: and i look him square in the eye, completely missing the joke - i believe i may even have been looking at him as if though he were crazy, and go
"no"
Dunja says: and he goes "you know... 'cause of the music"
Dunja says: and at this point i'm thinking "wtf is this guy on?"
Dunja says: because i don't notice the music
Dunja says: so i'm like "uh... yeah"
Dunja says: and then i have to take his order in, so i ask for his name
Dunja says: and he's like "it's marshall"
Dunja says: ok, i KNOW that it's marshall because i just got him his previous order. but that's how out of it i was
Dunja says: and i'm like "how do you spell that?"
Dunja says: and now HE'S looking at me like he thinks i must be joking
Dunja says: but i just stare at him, dead on
Dunja says: and he's like "uh... M-A-R-SHALL"
Dunja says: and i'm like "shall?"
Dunja says: and he's like "shall"
Dunja says: after that neither one of us said anything. he walked out and we didn't even say bye. so he comes in today and he just avoided eye contact with me completely. he talked to my boss and then just walked out. not so much as a nod of aknowledgement in my direction
Dunja says: he thinks i'm a retard
George says: you might be reading into things too much.
Dunja says: marshall thinks i'm a retard
Dunja says: and that guy i met two saturdays ago is a giant liar

This is where the conversation takes a turn from being mildly entertaining to a RANT (by Dunja) about boys and how stupid they are (so if you wish to read a Boys Are Stupid rant for the umpteenth time on my blog, read on!):

George says: marshall can't even wash his own clothes... where'd you meet this other guy?
Dunja says: no one washes dry-clean clothes...
Dunja says: i met the other guy at my friend's birthday party
George says: listen, i'm just trying to make you feel better..is he a friend of your friend?
Dunja says: yes
George says: what'd he lie about?
Dunja says: he said he'd call me. two saturdays ago. and he never did
George says: oh. not really a liar.
Dunja says: yes a liar
Dunja says: why would anyone even say something like that if they had no intention on following through?
Dunja says: its not like i asked him to call me and then he was like "uh yeah, i will". i could understand lying in that kind of situation
Dunja says: and it's not like we made out or something so he felt obligated to say he'd call me or something
Dunja says: he just said it. out of the blue. just like that. and then he didn't do it. i mean, if you're not gonna do it, and you know you're not gonna do it, why say you will and get my hopes up?
Dunja says: i could've just gone home, thought "that was a fun conversation" and left it at that. but noooo you had to say "i'll call you" so i'm thinking "oh cool, maybe i'll get to hear from him again"
Dunja says: so when he doesn't call 4 days later i'm like "oh, well, what's that about?"
Dunja says: and then a week later i'm like "oh, well i guess he's not calling"
Dunja says: and now 2 weeks later i think he's a jerk and a liar
Dunja says: wouldn't it have been in his best interest to leave it at just "that was a fun conversation"???
George says: he probably changed his mind, maybe met somebody later that night.. who knows?
Dunja says: he didn't meet anyone later that night because we all left at the same time and he went to my friends house. so unless he turned gay in the span of a few hours...
Dunja says: and why he would change his mind when he didn't even talk to me after the initial *good* talk is also beyond me
Dunja says: why can't you just agree with me and say that he's a jerk for saying something like that if he wasn't gonna do it?
Dunja says: do you say this sorta thing to girls? is that why you're defending him?
George says: no, I don't use phones, I'm just being realistic. People change their minds all the time.
Dunja says: some people are also jerks. that's realistic
George says: He is a jerk, for saying he'd call when he knows he might change his mind. I still don't think he's a 'giant liar'.
Dunja says: i mean, if he wasn't sure, he shouldn't have said anything.
George says: but you should expect people to be jerks
Dunja says: right? like, he could've not said anything, then if he'd wanted to call me, called me, and i would've been pleasantly surprised
Dunja says: this way i was just unpleasantly disappointed
George says: he asked for the number?
Dunja says: his exact words were "i'll get your number off of ***** - you don't mind? and i'll give you a call"
George says: and you're suprised that he didn't call?
Dunja says: yes
George says: most guys won't call after they get your number.
George says: and in this case it was a two-stepper, he had to get the number from some other guy first
Dunja says: 2 steps is easy peasy, especially after YOU make the suggestion and NOTE the fact that there are 2 steps involved
George says: well sure, i'm just telling you how it is, not what's right or wrong.
Dunja says: and i'm just telling you that he's a jerk
Dunja says: and you're telling me not to be surprised but to be caustic and cynical like YOU
George says: "hey bob, can i get her number off you?"
George says: "sure, have a pen?"
George says: "umm..no."
George says: "well... ok. maybe later then."
Dunja says: WHY ARE YOU DEFENDING HIS INACTION AND LEAD-ON-I-NESS?
George says: because I don't want you to get upset the next time this happens.
Dunja says: so you defend his lame-ass behavior?
Dunja says: shouldn't you be saying something like "he is a jerk, so you shouldn't be upset, its not like you missed out"
Dunja says: instead of "well, you know, he probably changed his mind 'cause you suck so bad"
Dunja says: i mean, if your intention truly is to make me feel better?
George says: this isn't about you or the guy, why are you making it personal? I'm just telling you how this process usually goes from what I've seen/heard. I don't really see a need to make you feel better, because this isn't something you should really be upset about.
Dunja says: well yes. now that you put it that way, invalidating my feelings is exactly the best way to go about this.
George says: I don't get bent out of shape when my lottery ticket is a loser because I understand the odds of winning are really low.
Dunja says: i can't even believe you're trying to draw a parallel between something based on random chance (1 in 13 million, by the way) and someone TELLING you they're going to do something
George says: the odds are both pretty bad.
Dunja says: i don't even know why i'm still discussing this with you

I should just send our conversations to the "Young and the Restless" or the "Bold and Beautiful" or "As the World Turns" or even "Passions". They'd have a field day with this kind of dialogue. And it might be great for the soaps. But it makes me feel SHITTY.

Jay Hernandez

Don't you sometimes wish that your life was more like a VCR? Wouldn't it be awesome if life had a pause button (and a rewind button and a fastforward one too)?
I wish I could pause life right now and just take a breather. Exams are fast approaching and I'm starting to freak out mainly because this:
is going to be my life for the next month when I would much rather it be this:
For those who don't recognize it, the above is (part of) the picture collage of Summer 2003 on my wall. (Summer 2004 is equally noteworthy, I just didn't make a picture collage of it because I was either lazy or had no time. I can't remember which of those two it was...) Anyway, back to the VCR analogy and what prompted it: I've had some really bad news, and if I could just lie in bed for the next 6 hours I'm almost positive I would feel better about stuff. But I can't do that. Because life doesn't stop just because you need it to.
And while on this stupid thought-tangent, thinking about how a pause button would be handy, I thought of about 10 situations in my life that I would like to rewind to and change. And 7/10 of those have to do with ONE person. Admitting that, it seems like this entire year has just been an enormous waste of time.
I haven't eaten anything since 2pm yesterday, and I'm really not hungry. I just want to go to sleep for a while. A long while. And dream of Jay Hernandez:


HAHA. I laugh at all the guys that are on this site at school or at work right now... the person walking behind you thinks you're gay! HAHA. Man... that made my day...

And yes, your worst presumptions are probably correct. Jay IS my new desktop background. :D

Kinder Surprise!

Some things ABA-solutely NEVER change...

Photographic evidence of what my sister is doing behind my back when I'm giving her instructions...

Haha, I got her back though when the camera caught her at an inopportune moment:

HAPPY EASTER!
Maybe it's cruel I put that on the internet...

Before you read on, since the rest of this post sucks and is boring and you shouldn't bother with it, I'd like to direct you to two posts that are anything BUT boring: ZMP's latest post and Rosey's latest post

Oh, and I'll also recommend a really good movie I saw this weekend: Real Women Have Curves. Two thumbs up. Now back to my boring post:

Listening to Fiddy's Massacre - and I really like "Just A Lil Bit"
I predict that's the next big thing.

I got flowers today from that old man that comes into the store and calls me gorgeous (for Easter - the flowers were for Easter. Not the gorgeous-calling.) Twas the sweetest thing ever. He also gave me a Kinder Surprise! If he were 40 years younger, I'd totally date him.

Other than that, nothing really worth noting has happened recently. Well, Thursday night didn't quite turn out as planned, but something was proven that I had long suspected: if you have to be caught in a jam with anyone, Pauly is exactly the dude you want to have there. Especially if you're drunk. And I'm the person that should definitely not be within a five mile radius of an ambiguous situation where people don't know what to do - because I WILL freak out... I mean, I'm not calm at the best of times. So Thursday, we (the usual suspects) go out to make it up to Zeebs for her previous stint as D.D. And... well... let's just say that we now owe her 2 nights - because Thursday, in our haste to make sure she was anything BUT the D.D. - we boozed her up a little too much and ended up in a hospital. :( She's fine. A short panic attack and checkup later, she was home with a hangover, and I was home getting lectured. :( Had to cancel plans with Ramiro as a result :( The good news is that I think my parents will have the good taste not to bring it up for the rest of the weekend as tomorrow will be spent at my grandparent's house for Easter, and it'd be pretty stupid of them to lecture me about drinking at that time... although I can't put anything past them anymore.
I shouldn't be too hard on them. My mom bought me two gorgeous sweaters (on sale) today. But my dad also refused to go pick my sister up from the movies on account of he was playing a video game in his pyjamas. And then my mom dropped two loaves of bread on the driveway when we were taking the groceries in. Somehow, although I was ten feet away and halfway up the stairs with about 6 bags of groceries in my hands, she still found a way to blame me for her mishap. And my dad did make me spaghetti at like midnight last night, but he was also responsible for the giant lecture about how my life is going nowhere on Friday morning, so in the end, their positives and negatives as parents cancel out to... um... all negatives. But I love them.

VONNELL IS BACK from her exotic cruise around the world and I can't WAIT to hear stories! She's coming to visit me at school on Monday, basically ensuring that I will never EVER finish that SOC assignment I've had all year to work on, worth 15% of my mark. But it's just so totally worth it. I mean, friends ALWAYS take priority. ESPECIALLY after a vacation when they have stories and you have none and have to live vicariously through someone. So let's hear it for the mediocrity that will ensue as a result of my poor time management!

win-WINNA!

Lalala. Je suis une genius avec les grandes abilities to fool people! Muahaha!
So, I've been wanting to write about the progress of planning a surprise birthday party for my dear friend Paul for a while now, but obviously couldn't because he reads this and IT'S WAS A SURPRISE!
Zeebs and I got off to a rocky start. After kidnapping his phone at a Second Cup, Zeebs attempted to copy down all the names and numbers in his phonebook whilst I distracted him and chatted merrily about topics unrelated to his phone so he wouldn't notice it was missing. Unfortunately, being the smart guy that he is, he did clue in after like 45 minutes that Zeebs was taking a suspiciously long crap in the washroom and that his phone was missing... so he started asking questions, which I skillfully avoided by changing the topic and completely ignoring him: not smooth.
So, it's a week before the planned event, and Paul is completely suspecting us. Zeebs and I are calling all of his friends (95% of whom we've never met) and leaving ridiculously stalkerish messages on their voicemails (because many of them are avoiding our calls due to a wonderful new invention called caller I.D.) My templated message went something like this:
"Hi, this is Dunja calling. Um, you don't know me, but, um, I'm Paul's friend. Uh, Paul (last name here)? And uh, it's his birthday this Friday, and we want to have a surprise party for him, uh, my friend and I, and we're just inviting all the people we found in his phonebook - uh, that's where I got your number - from Paul's cellphone phone book. So anyway, if you can come, it's at Crocodile Rock at 8pm, and you should call me back, um, to let me know if you have any questions, and whether you're coming or not. So yeah. Hope to see you there."
Some folks call back and we get some confirmations. Things seem to be going great, until our Crocodile Rock plan is completely shattered because we realize that it's 25 and over night on Saturdays at Croc Rock, that we can't get a reservation, and that half the people coming won't be able to get in because of dress code. So now we have to change the location, which means calling everyone back and leaving a whole slew of new messages - a day before the party. Somehow, we also have to do damage control, because at this point our mole (a.k.a. J-dawg) has let us know that Paul is completely on to us. We decide that Mahziba will pretend to cancel because she has to cover someone's shift at work, and I'm expected to pull of an amazing dramatic routine, call Paul pretending to be upset, and somehow work in there that we should still go out despite the fact that Zeebs has cancelled - and she was the drama major for 4 years. I must say, I was nervous, and this call was deeply nerve-wrecking. Paul kept me on my toes, but it all somehow worked out.
The final cherry on the damage control cake was bringing my friend along last minute, because it served to throw Paul off. At the time of the surprising, according to Paul, he suspected *something* but wouldn't have said anything because he was a tad bit fearful that nothing was in fact going to happen, and him bringing it up would make him look like an ass if there was nothing happening. So we succeeded in keeping him ambivalent about the situation. I think that's a good thing given the hours of interrogation Zeebs put him through about who his "good friends" were, (randomly - for no conceivable reason other than that she was planning a surprise party and didn't know who to invite - the only way she could've been more obvious about it was if she pulled out the list of names and started scratching people off of it as Paul went down it...), and the fact that I almost lost control of the situation on several occasions (like when Paul asked me why we were going to Indian Motorcycle, and I told him it was 'cause my friend had recommended it, and she said "I've never been anywhere in Toronto." I had to mask her words with a laughing fit and give her meaningful looks until she got the hint to STOP TALKING.) Despite all these close calls, Paul seemed happy to see people he hadn't expected to see, and seemed grateful for the effort we'd put in (even though the outcome was less than ideal since half the party was later showing up than the birthday boy they were supposed to be surprising. Sigh.)
However, even though the *surprise* part of the party was a bit of a flop, the party in and of itself was OFF THE HOOK! We managed to get Paul COMPLETELY and UTTERLY drunk off his ass - to the point where he wasn't walking straight and kept veering towards the bar on the way to the dancefloor, to the point where he was completely red in the face, to the point where he was laughing at EVERYTHING and not saying much. Soooo drunk. And he says that from what he can remember, he had an awesome time. The same can be said of the rest of us. (Except for Zeebs who was playing D.D. and keeper of the psychopaths.) I want to put pictures up, but if it proves to be a pain, as things do, I might give up. I'll let you know what the final verdict on that is later.

Hiatus Is A GO

Intrigue is back. I knew seeing people again would bring about adventure.
So remember Model Boy from New Year's Eve? He's gone to New Orleans, but NOW I get to meet his younger brother who has moved up to Toronto. Coincidence? Well, obviously not. Interesting? Definitely.
Then yesterday, certain wanna-be relationships were finally buried for good. Which is good. I like it when I know where I stand with someone OFFICIALLY. But it was weird how it came about because a few hours before we had "the talk" (and there is only one "the talk" when it comes to wanna-be relationships, so you know exactly WHAT "the talk" I'm talking about... yes... it is the one you think it is) his friend stops me on campus to ask me how things are going with us. And I'm thinking "Wow, this is weird. You mean he hasn't mentioned that things AREN'T going with us?" But I say "Uh, I don't know." And then a few hours later I did know. Which is usually how life goes, you notice? You know the answer to the question AFTER the fact. Which is sorta useless when you think about it...
And then just when I finish dealing with one "I don't know what this is" situation, another one crops up. I hate that. Yesterday it was a friend who is saying things that have other-than-friend undertones. Not necessarily more-than-friend, just different-dynamic-then-we've-had-up-until-now type dealy. I hope it was just the weather, because the last thing I need right now is another "I don't know what this is" thing. I hate not knowing what something is. If I could walk around with a labelling gun labelling everything, I would TOTALLY do it. Wouldn't that greatly simplify things? Having like a little chart connecting you to all the people you know with different coloured lines and like a little legend telling you what the colours stand for? And then when a relationship changed, the line colour would automatically do so as well, so you'd KNOW the relationship changed, and so would the other person, so you'd always be in the same place? Knowing what was going on? And there could be no in-betweenies? Wow. That'd be majorly helpful. You should get on that.
The good news is that I've finally realized that nothing is easy. And since I'm a lazy person and I've finally realized nothing is going to come about without a LOT of work on my part, and I'm too immature to put work in, I think that my hiatus from boys MIGHT actually stick this time. Case in point: when friend-boy went to "I don't know what this is"-boy, I didn't question him about it as I normally would. I didn't push for answers, I didn't push in any certain direction. I ignored it. And I never plan on bringing it up either. If I ignore it for long enough, it'll go away. Just like my mother when she's trying to get me to do the dishes. So that's the new plan of attack: just ignore the boys until they give up and go away. I find I have more fun without them anyway. Hiatus is a GO. But keep the intrigue coming.

Count the Hideous

I am so excited to get out of bed with a purpose tomorrow that it's alarming. It'll be the first day I'm back to public life after my hiatus began last Saturday. Gosh, how I've missed it!
I'll bet you're probably thinking that a week spent in bed is nothing to complain about. But it is. You have to keep in mind that 90% of that week I was deathly ill and thus too preoccupied with general feelings of suckiness to notice how boring my days were, but the past three have been TORTURE. I put myself under house arrest (wanting to experience the life of my idol - Martha Stewart - firsthand... haha for mockage of said topic watch "THE DAILY SHOW") for these last three days (the actual reason being that I was) wanting to get back into tip top shape before I start the jet-set pace of my life up again, as apparently it's been catching up with me for a while (according to my doctor and my dad - who apparently knows everything about everything), but I didn't reckon that it'd be so deathly boring. I was reliving my high school days. Friday I sat at home and watched America's Funniest Home Videos with my parents. And Saturday we made the fun-filled treck to my grandparents' house where we listened to tapes of my cousin singing the ABCs as a toddler. Sunday I finally ventured out of my house - to go grocery shopping with my mother. The highlight was when she bought me four cartons of Fruitopia Strawberry Passion Awareness at $0.99 a pop - because I've been missing that stuff. I usually drink it at work, but I haven't been to work in over a week... Also, can't forget the "handsome young man handling the leeks" that was checking me out according to my mother - which I honestly doubt because I was wearing my most hideous bulky sweatshirt with a hideous stain on it to match and my hair was up in a hideous 'don't- look- at- me' type ponytail - AND I was wearing my glasses with NO makeup. So... mom's on crack...
My "watching my weight" thing has gone to hell in a handbasket this past week. All I did (once I was able to walk around, that is) whenever I got bored (read: all the time) was EAT. I've never eaten more in my life than I did these past three days. And it was all crap too. I remember my last meeting with the scale on Thursday night, and I doubt my next one will be for another month before I bring my weight back down to normal proportions so I can start trying to get it down further. Yang discusses his weight-loss battle in his blog. I'm thinking of trying the same sorta thing here. I mean, I've been trying to lose the same 8 lbs. for like... half a year. And it's NOT budging. Clearly I'm not doing something right. Maybe if I write things down and make you all read them, you can point out where I'm making my mistakes...
Anyway, tomorrow it's back to school I go, and I've promised myself that I'm going to sit through my entire Physiology lecture no matter how hideously boring it is or how well I think I might know the material, because the fact of the matter is that I haven't done a single reading for that class or started on a single assignment since it began. I also went to maybe the first two lectures... and even then, it was like the first half of the first two lectures. So I'm guessing it's about time I started putting something in if I wanna walk away with a half-decent mark.
I haven't seen friends in FOREVER. At this point, I think I'll be happy with running into anyone I even remotely know in the hallway, and I doubt my greeting will be situationally-warranted. I'll probably act like I haven't seen a human being in YEARS. I finally understand Tom Hanks' plight in "Castaway", except mine's worse because I haven't had a volleyball to keep me company and all I have had to balance out the lack of any normal influence is my extremely insane core family - which is like putting someone in a room with a recording of nails-on-chalkboard for a week and expecting them to come out okay - so if I hug you profusely tomorrow, or offer to bear your children, you'll know that it's not a reflection of the wonderful person you are but rather evidence of my weakened mental state.
On that note, toodles!

See What You Make of This

Click here to read the weirdest story to hit the news in a while about a man setting himself on fire in front of Queen's Park yesterday.

An update on the story can be found here.

Additionally, Mota has brought it to my attention that if you google "Duneyah" and select "I'm Feeling Lucky", you get brought here. Cheers!

Other than that, I'm still sick, having to pee every half hour, haven't tasted food in a while, haven't been outside in a week, my family is driving me mental, particularly my dad who was in a particularly good mood yesterday when Travis got kicked off of AI since he didn't approve of my crush for some reason, and I can't WAIT for Monday so I can make my triumphant return to society. This weekend promises to be productive as I have quite a bit of schoolwork to catch up on (yeah, right.)

George Bush Twice: Enough Said

If you had told me an hour ago that "Constantine" a.k.a. OLD DUDE, Blond Harry Potter, and Fatty would make it into the American Idol Top 12 and not TRAVIS TUCKER with that beaming, charming smile, and those dance moves, and that... *drools* drool-worthy something he just HAS... I would've said you were mental, and if that did in fact happen, it would signify the end of the world:

WELL PREPARE FOR THE END, WORLD! BECAUSE THE SKY SEEMS TO BE FALLING!
ARMAGGEDON IS UPON US! And so on...

Gah. I mean, I shed a tear. Several actually, for Travis and his mother that fainted when he made it through to Hollywood during the auditions. And I pray that someone will find me his fanmail address so I can send him lots of letters proclaiming my love and proposing marriage and so on. But I shed most tears for myself. I mean, Travis was the one guy who gave vent to my girlish fantasies like no one has been able to since the Backstreet Boys back in grade 7. I mean, real-life crushes are fun, but fundamentally have a disappointment mechanism built into them: reality. With the passage of time, you get to know your real life crush, reality hits, and disillusionment quickly follows. Star crushes aren't like that. I could go on loving Travis forever, he'd never disappoint me. He'd never forget to call when he said he would, or misinterpret the situation and start dating another girl when I thought things were going well between us, or act like a child, or be too serious, or embarrass me in front of others, or pick a fight, or refuse to listen... (or put in any effort, or try at all). I mean, I have been enjoying Travis' company for several weeks now, (ever since AI came on), and he hasn't disappointed me once. He showed up for every single one of our "dates", dressed to impress, was entertaining but not overbearing, shot a few of those charming smiles my way, left me wanting more but feeling happy about the progress we'd made, and there was never any need to question where our relationship was heading, because we both always knew. So what if he has no idea I exist? At least that's concrete. I mean "I have no idea who you are" is WAY more concrete than "I'm not sure where I see this going."
Unfortunately, with this damned reality craze that has permeated everything, even television, the safehaven to the imagination run wild, my relationship with Travis also had to face reality. (DAMN YOU REALITY!!!) Today Travis was gone forever from my life without any explanation and hardly a worthy goodbye. And taking what could've potentially been his place in that Top 12 are a Fatty, an Old Guy who DID just do a BAD impression of Sting, and a Blond version of Harry Potter, minus the cool adventures and magic and stuff. Like, WTF?

Don't even get me started on the fact that Nikko didn't get in. Nikko's rendition of "Georgia On My Mind" was probably the single best performance AI has seen all season, and stupid America lets him go?
I just remembered why I hated this show last season: America has no taste! Canadian Idol sucks because we have no one to choose from (I mean, Kalen, Galen, whatever the heck his name is Porter? Or whatever? He looks like a CLOWN), and American Idol sucks because America sucks and doesn't know how to choose right.
I'm shocked and appalled. And more than a little disappointed at this premature ending to what promised to be one of the healthier relationships I've been in in the past little while. Sad, isn't it? Then again, that seems to be the way the cookie crumbles.

I knew I should never have put much stock into a nation that elected George Bush for president. TWICE.

In other news: The Game and Fiddy seem to have made it up, or at least that's what CBC or CTV or some C-thingy but NOT CNN was reporting today which is a good thing because I saw the "Hate It or Love It" video again today and it seems that The Game has a rather nice tummy too, so that would've made my decision hard... but now I don't have to make it! And I'm still sick. That's about it though.

I LOVE EVERYTHING! (except my headache)

Fiddy disowns The Game, and my head ACHES (probably unrelated events, but both sucky nonetheless). 'Tis a sorry state of affairs.
If I have to choose sides, it's going to be tough... I mean, "Candyshop" vs. "Hate It or Love It"... both with Fiddy... hmm... I'm seeing a trend... Plus, Fiddy's bullet hole/dimple is so sexy. A lot sexier than The Game's wannabe pug mug. But I really am no expert. I just think 50's tummy is HOT.

Sean Paul's new song (We Be Burning) is two thumbs up. Although as far as I'm concerned, Sean Paul can do no wrong. Thanks Freezy!

Friday was hot. Good crowd, good music, good friends, good dancing... hot. I LOVE MILWAUKEE'S.

I also loved HITCH. (Finally saw it.) I LOVE WILL SMITH.

Oh, good days. The end.

A Question of Taste

Is it wrong to publish a message left on your voicemail on the internet? I mean, is it immoral? And, perhaps more importantly, is it illegal? When someone leaves a message on MY voicemail, does it then become MY property? Or is it still theirs 'cause they said it? What if they leave a message on my voicemail about how they cured cancer or something and then I publish a report and get all the credit for it - is that stealing, or is it a weird way of them giving me a gift? What if they say something incriminating? Am I obligated to tell the police? Or is it still their words so I can't say anything? Well, that wouldn't work at all. I'd have to tell according to the law unless I was married to the person and we had husband/wife priviledge thingy going on, or I was their doctor or Rabbi or priest or something, but even then, if they left a message on my voicemail, I'll bet the prosecutors could argue that the priviledge doesn't apply since they weren't telling YOU directly, they were telling a machine, or something. Now, what if it's none of the above (since I will never be a Rabbi or a doctor or a priest, and I doubt I'll ever be married), but someone leaves you a hilarious drunken message that you'd like to publish on the internet for all to laugh at, but that the person might feel stupid about later? Can you do that? And if so, do you have to ask them for permission? Or do you just do it and deal with the consequences later?

I think I should stop just doing things and dealing with the consequences later. It's time I started using this evolved brain of mine to do what it evolved to do: i.e. think ahead. Because this "I'll deal with that bridge when I come to it" nonsense is getting me nowhere.

Remember how a hiatus from boys (for me) has been a long time in the making? Well, I can't seem to take one and stick to it. And I think it's because of my unwillingness (mainly due to laziness) to think ahead. It seems that every time I decide "Ok, that's enough of that now..." something new crops up seemingly different, but really all the same, to take its place. And then I scratch my head again. Gahahaurghaurgha. And no, I'm not turning into the Governor of California, I'm just frustrated...

Anyway, if you think it's okay for me to publish a hilarious voicemail message on my blog, let me know, and it shall be done. I'll use y'all to do my thinking ahead for me. (We'll tackle the boy issues at another date.)

Jimmy Tony

You give your hand to me
And then you say hello
And I can hardly speak
My heart is beating so
And, anyone can tell
You think you know me so well
But you don't know me

- Ray Charles, "You Don't Know Me"

I've been trying to nail this song down, and I'm really not accomplishing anything besides driving my family members completely mental (well, "driving" really isn't the word here. They're already driven... I'm driving them BEYOND the brink of madnosity. Lets put it that way...) My sister has threatened to fart on me if I sing it one more time. She didn't say it with words, really, she just came into my room and looked at me in this sort of "I'ma fart on you" way, and then, when she was leaving, she did this little butt-wiggle... and I don't think it was just my imagination... anyway, the point is that I've been trying to get it right since Monday (the song, not Sonja's butt wiggle), and I still can't. Perhaps I'm being too ambitious with this project. It is, after all, Ray Charles. I mean, a black man sang it. How can I even TRY to imitate that kind of soul? Silly Dunja, soul music is for black men...
I could see that working in a CD commercial... (you see it too, don't you? Scary, isn't it?)

I hope work is better today than it was yesterday. Here is a brief synopsis in the entertaining form of an Andrea/Dunja convo:

andrea: where r u workin?
dunja: at the dry cleaners across the street. partaaay
andrea: woo hoo free spin cycle for all!!!
dunja: lll that'd be hot. unfortunately, it's mainly my boss telling me about how i should wash my face with cold water 'cause it closes up my pores and how his son wants to be on welfare while i sit there thinking "wtf??"
andrea: ummm i'd be like "i like to put crayons up my nose..do u like to put crayons up ur nose?..crayons are fun. one time me and jimmy-tony were walkin and i saw a crayon and i picked it up and i put it up my nose" (start laughing and fall on the floor and start havin a seizure)
dunja: lll that'd be fun. way more awesome then what ACTUALLY happened. which was just me, sitting there, squinting my eyes slightly in a putty-from-"seinfeld"-like impression of "wtf?".

I hate it when reality intervenes and kills ideas like that...
But then Andrea intervenes with her genius-ness once more:

andrea: hahaha thats good still. it makes him think ur slightly retarded...WORKERS COMP!!!

Oh man. She cracks me up.

Some more loose ends to tie up: to an "ex-friend", who I'm sure isn't reading this, but just in case: I'm sorry. You probably know you shouldn't take things like that coming from me seriously, especially after everything... but just in case you did...

And lastly, Andrea's acceptance speech:
andrea: WOOOHHOOOOO I MADE DUNE'S BLOG
andrea: thank you everyone ive been workin my whole life just to reach this point and i wanna thank all those who have helped me along the way... mom and dad, all my friends, and especially you, jimmy-tony, for without you there would be no story, and no me: I LOVE YOU!!!

Yes. I believe that's a good note on which to leave things.

Not Good

Hearing the incessent ticking of this clock on my shelf is unnerving. Time is passing and my brain isn't working.
My desk is horribly cluttered. Perhaps contributing to my lazy brain, or, perhaps, an after-effect of it. An empty 2L Dr. Pepper bottle, a dirty plate with chewed gum on it. The Sims 2 box splayed out in all it's glory. Oh little sister, you ruin everything.
My messy desk mirrors today, and, like the desk, I'd like to think today wasn't my fault either.

Some people ask such silly questions: "Did I look good today?"
"What does it matter if you've already won?" I think.
"Salt on the wound?" it's as if though she's saying.
"No thanks. Well... if you insist..." Does that sound right?

No. Nothing coming out sounds right. Everything is bungled and messy and hard.

He said everything, and none of it was what I wanted to hear.

Pure frustration and exasperation, followed by resignation and an agreement to disagree - and to think, the whole time, all I needed was a hug to tell me nothing had changed, or that everything had changed but that it was okay.
But no, instead the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes into hours, and February 28th into March 1st - and it'll be some time more before I can call to say I'm sorry. I'm afraid this ticking clock will change my mind again. Stubborness thrives within me although it doesn't become me, and I'll forget what I've learned, or at least deny it. It'll be a new day, and I'll wake up ready to face it; ready to conquer, and it'll be a while before I realize I've beaten myself again.

Why do I cling to these childish impossibilities?

I have these moments of pure lucid daydreaming that I cling to for some unfathomable reason. And when something good stares me right in the face, I want that other thing, the one I can't have - the one I deliberately sabotaged.

These thoughts are just like this damned clock: intrusive and distracting and reminding me that nothing has changed although everything has. And it makes no sense. Why make things hard when they're easy? Time-is-a-wasting, and you, my dear Dunja, are a giant idiot.



*Shrugs* On a lighter note...