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It may just be because I'm ovulating, but I was suddenly struck with a tremendous desire to become a doula. There are ways to certify, complete with written exams.

But how could I be taken seriously as a doula, having never had a baby? Clearly I need to have a child, stat.

My career is on the line.
School is getting hectic hectic hectic. I'm falling behind and feeling the strain, but I'm learning how to keep things in place. It's not even close to the constant humming low-level panic of years past.

I was home for the weekend for a cousin's wedding, and I snuck into a yoga class in the gym where my mother works. It's easy to lose sight of how far you're pushing yourself when your body is warmed up and tuned in, you reach further and further. My muscles are still complaining, but the metaphor is glorious.

Importance of Being Earnest opens tonight and we're ready, willing, and able.

A squirrel just gripped the screen on my window, paused, and flung off into the trees. Earlier, I was sitting outside and heard a rustling, thinking it was a bird, but it was just a dead leaf settling through the bush. Winter is closer than ever, and I'm moving the remnants of my summer into my room. Doctoring plants, playing music, burning incense. I smell like wood and mangoes and mittens.

I have ten minutes to get my cold hands and feet to my Indian Lit class, a class in which I feel like an idiot more and more these days. I'm discouraged but resiliant, and I will be there, tuned in.

thirdly, little pictures.

I'm going to scan some more interesting things soonly (less my face and more my world).

I'm apparently trying way too hard to be indie, and Matt is in desperate need of a haircut. this was from August. He's just about as goofy as this picture implies.

Also, OMG, I've got a sizeable cranium.

thrills.Collapse )


I'm in the gray area. Half an hour before you're supposed to be somewhere, what do you do with that? I'm sick of working on this class presentation (food preparation in Tudor England) and my Indian Lit class doesn't start until 1:30. It's limbo.

Matt left this morning for Fredericton, competing in Mathletics. Yeah, a math competition. Sometimes I forget I'm dating a Math major. His family lives in Fredericton, so he's spending the weekend with them and having a family thanksgiving. We split ways at the library over black coffee, and it's not that I miss him really, moreso that I'm very aware that I won't be saying "goodnight" to him tonight.

I just wrote a midterm for 17th century literature, which was easy as pie. Yet, the fact that it was easy in no way endears John Donne to my heart. The guy is a total prick. The midterm was so easy it in no way sweated out the midterm-stress/caffeine wave I'd been riding on, so I went to the Owens (art gallery) to space out on some heart-wrenchingly lovely animations. Elisabeth Belliveau, check this lady out.

(Anchor your heart.)

Her work is being screened at the Vogue on the 25th (go.), but that's smack in the middle of my rehearsal. I didn't tell you about auditions.

Auditions are the absolute worst part of theatre. I ran the gauntlet of two auditions for two women I absolutely would kill to work with. Didn't get either of them. Went to a third audition that a friend was putting on, and it turned out to be horribly offensive and titillating and poorly written that I walked out of the audition. THEN, when I had given up all hope and moped through a couple days, there was a last minute call for auditions for The Importance of Being Earnest, as one of the cast members dropped out. I bombed the audition, but got the part-- probably because only a handful of girls showed up, but whatever.

I have to work tonight, chez Bridge Street Cafe, where I still work two shifts a week. I don't want to go, partly because I'm sleepy and being dragged through the dirt by my middling immune system. Mainly, it's being THE ONLY senior staff there, and certainly one of the few with an actual work ethic. I'm just tired of knocking myself out while the other kids just let things get out of hand.

touch base.

It's an autumnal sort of thing.

I'm back in Sackville after spending Thanksgiving with my family in Halifax. Matt came to stay, and it was strange and lovely to have him in my childhood home. He was quiet mostly, feeling the kick-in-the-ribs ache to record some of his new songs. My family adores him.
My parents are still your typical hardcore-Baptist parents, which means Matt and I slept in different rooms. Hilarious. Also, my mother heard me say "frig" for the first time ever, as in "Are we listening to friggin' Sam Roberts? Gah!" when I didn't know she had come in the room when my back was turned. She said mildly, "You can change the station if you like," as I turned red.

We're that couple that kisses in bookstores, super markets. Like yuppies or teenagers. I love him.

Seven years ago today my great-grandmother passed away from complications of Alzhiemers. I miss her, in a vague and half-asleep kind of way. She used to run a boarding house, just after the war, and during her stay in the nursing home she believed she was back there again. The nurses would turn down the beds in the evening, and Nanny would go behind them and make them all back up. Once she made up a bed with a woman asleep inside it. She would collect up dishes after dinner and wash them by hand in the little kitchenette, so the staff would have to wait until she was done to send them to the kitchen to be boiled and sanitized. She had a wicked crush on the Live at 5 anchorman, would tell me I had big feet even for a boy, and would say "Oh, there's Theresea!" (one of her daughters who went prematurely gray) when she looked in the mirror. She was fiesty and terrifying and lovely.

School is going along. I just finished a huge (for me) paper, clocking in at least five hours per day in the library this entire past week. Suddenly my deadlines are all a week or two away, and I'm not sure how to proceed. I always feel safest at crunch time. I'm going to keep up with my readings, get organized, and maybe even work ahead tonight.

I have more to tell you, and some pictures to show you, but I feel like I've been procrastinating long enough. School work. Yes.

Aug. 29th, 2007

I gave myself a stupid haircut last night and then slept, dreaming of endless sterile corridors, woke up feeling as raw as if I'd kept watch all night long.

I'm not going to get into the million little things that are tripping me up, because they're so goddamn banal. The same logistics that get at all of us, no money, no time. I'm more than the sum of the things that are getting me down.
bwah! I was planning on writing something introspective, but now I'm just too excited and happy for critical self-analysis. I'm going to see Matt in six hours, and I have a room to tidy and flowers to pot and a Lindsey to bathe of cafe-related grime. I'm blasting french punk and throwing wide the curtains and smiling from head to toe.

Have a good weekend, dearhearts.

May. 29th, 2007

My organs are made of lead.
Please shoot me.

May. 26th, 2007

I could fall in love with him, just fall and fall and fall.

Apr. 12th, 2007

I'm meeting with the Registrar this afternoon about going back to school in the fall. I'm so incredibly nervous, I don't think I can put it into words. I'm worst-case-senarioing right now.
I'm just a soul whose intentions are good. Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.
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