things i want that are awesome

COMFY NIGHT-TIME MUSIC LISTENING!
SleepPhones - Sometimes when I sleep I encounter problems. Many of them are of my own making, but some of them are not! These include, but are not limited to, loud neighbours, other members of the household talking and/or stomping around, and BRAIN OVERLOAD THINK ABOUT ALL THE THINGS. In these cases, I dig out my ipod from my bedside table, create a playlist of awesome, mellow songs, and jam one of the headphones in my ear. I choose the headphone based on which side I feel like sleeping on at that moment, so it's not being pressed into my ear drum by my giant head - obviously, I put in the one that belongs in the ear that is exposed to the air. But I am a fickle sleeper, not loyal to any particular side, and within several minutes I usually decide I want to sleep on the OTHER side. Which means I have to search around my bed/the floor/the air between my bedside table and my mattress to find the remaining headphone, untangle the corded mess, yank the one out of my ear, and jam the other one in my other ear. SOLUTION: soft headphone-y headbanded goodness.

THE LAZY MAN'S FACE-WASH!
Cucumber Face Cloths - I like having a clean face but I hate washing my face. I have to put all my bangs away and take off  my glasses and everything. It's this huge ordeal. Plus, I need to take off my eye make-up but I'm scared to use any eye make-up remover because of the whole never-ending eye infection debacle of '10, so I presently scrub at my eyes with water and a cloth. Not sure if that's helpful. SOLUTION: These! Hypoallergenic! No rinsing! I won't need to put my bangs away because there's no water going near them! If anyone can find out where I can purchase them from an actual store, let me know.

THE BEST SHIRT FOR MY SELF-ESTEEM!
A Very Potter Musical t-shirt - Once upon a time I lived in a small town on the Island, WITHOUT CABLE. I dealt with this travesty by renting movies from the library, watching illegally uploaded movies on the internet, finding t.v. shows on various websites, and watching things on youtube. One of the things I watched on youtube was "A Very Potter Musical," which is HILARIOUS. HILARIOUS. At one point, Harry Potter is discussing his crush on Cho Chang, and someone calls her beautiful, and he's all, "What? Beautiful? More like super mega-foxy awesome hot." And then they made shirts! And I thought to myself, here's a girl who often doesn't feel super mega-foxy awesome hot, most of the time. SOLUTION: if I wear this shirt whilst I sleep, the print will subliminally message itself into my brain. Boom. Better self-esteem.

THE TIME AND INGREDIENTS TO MAKE THIS!
Iced Coffee - I love coffee. I love it when it's hot, and equally when it's cold (but only if it was meant to be cold in the first place; not like it once was hot, but now it's cold because it's been sitting on the counter for several hours and maybe a few flies have landed in it unbeknownst to me. Yuck.). Somehow I saw this recipe, which I am hesitant to make because there is no small taster-sized amount. You have to make a whole heck of a lot of it. And what if it's gross? I mean, if you glance upon the pictures it's fairly certain that it will not be gross, but still. SOLUTION: I guess I could just, you know, make it. Or something.

MAKE THE BEST HAIR ALL THE TIME!
The Cloud Nine Wand - Sometimes I tumble out of bed and half my hair looks super fantastic. There are curls popping out of my head that look soft and natural, and everything is smooth and nothing is statically charged. Unfortunately, never does ALL of my hair look super fantastic. If I want it to be all curly and flowing about my head, I have to work some magic with hair appliances. Curling irons, specifically. Which are a nice IDEA, except I always end up with that stupid little kink at the end, where the iron grasped my hair. SOLUTION: tricky tapered tube of heat. Wrap it around tightly for ringlets, or loosely for soft curls. THE BEST HAIR. ALL THE TIME.

that's a pretentious way of saying i'm... unemployed

 Two things happened at Save-On today. First: I was clearly waiting for a parking spot, with my blinker on and everything. But then some jerk in a pick-up truck swooped in and stole it! I shared an eye-roll with a lady who was walking towards me who almost got hit by the stupid truck. Why do people keep stealing my parking spots?!?!

Then, I went to the chicken section to feed my crock pot addiction, and there were NO chicken breasts! There was package after package of chicken thighs, but no chicken breasts. I've never had a chicken thigh before, so I didn't want to risk it, and bought pork instead, but I was so confused! There were a few of us standing bewildered by the where the chicken was supposed to be. 'What... how do I... I don't understand what's going on.'

Meanwhile, in the world of musicals...

14. An American in Paris (1951) - Gene Kelly, Leslie Caron. This one is about an American guy who used to be in the army, but when that ended he stayed in Paris to paint. He's not doing very well with his paintings until a glamorous lady decides to sponsor him (because she has a crush on him, although she's a bit of a cougar because I'm pretty sure she was a lot older than him), and then at the same time he meets and falls in love with a French girl who is engaged to someone else! It's all very dramatic.
     What I liked was the super long ballet sequence at the end of the movie, and Gene Kelly singing a song with a bunch of French kids, and how tiny his apartment was! His bed was suspended from the ceiling, so when he woke up he had to crank it up to the ceiling so he'd have space to walk around, and his kitchen was hidden in a closet, and so on. It made me feel like I have all the room in the world! Also, one of the supporting characters is a failed concert pianist, and he has a fantastic dream sequence in which he is playing a concert, but he's also every member of the symphony, and the conductor, and also the audience. It's creepy and great, all at once.
     What I did not like was how stupid Gene Kelly professed his love for Leslie Caron, and then she tells him that she's leaving with the French dude she's engaged to, so he right away goes to the lady who's sponsoring him (because she loves him) and kisses her and is all, "I love you now! Surprise!" So he takes her to a party, and she's ecstatic because finally he loves her back; but then, Gene Kelly meets the French girl at the party, and they dance a ballet together, and decide to run off together, and that's the end! I mean, I know we are supposed to care about the two main characters and be relieved that they finally got together, but I was left wondering what was going to happen to the cougar lady! Who was going to tell her what happened? Was she just going to wait around for ever and ever until everyone left the party and then she'd realize that he was gone and she had no way home? I was a bit sad about that.
     Other than that bit, I liked this one! I think I would watch it again, especially for the ballet at the end.

can't... reach...

Today at Save-On, I noticed they moved my favourite yogurt to a lower shelf. I'm quite pleased with this development, because sometimes I feel like this:

i'm still not sure i've actually learned anything

I do not consider myself a slave to fashion. Yes, I dress much nicer if I plan on exiting my apartment and joining the general public than if I plan on lazing about my apartment, but as a general rule I will not wear something pretty if it is uncomfortable. I've always given myself more credit than that. Additionally, I have never been much of a "shoe person." I choose a pair of shoes I like, and wear them every day until they fall apart; then I purchase another pair of shoes as a necessity, but wear them resentfully and mourn the loss of my previous shoes. Then, naturally, I grow to love my new shoes and wear them every day until they fall apart and I require another pair of shoes. This cycle repeats and repeats. I'm not on the lookout for cute shoes; unless the ones on my feet are missing an essential component or I've worn the soles through to the ground, other shoes do not register on my radar.

Until one day. One day, I was shoe shopping with my mother. (Sigh. I hate shoe shopping. Especially when I've still got a perfectly functional pair on my feet.) I sat slumped in a chair, on stand-by for opinions and suggestions for her selections. I stared at racks and racks of shoes, eyes glazed over in unseeing apathy. Shoes, bah.

Then I saw them. They were cranberry red, and stood out from their neutral peers like a diamond ring in the toilet. I blinked and leaned forward ever-so-slightly. Something about them... they intrigued me. Dare I say, they called to me. "Loooooook," they said. "Loooooook. See how pretty."

I stood up and went to them, hesitant to pick them up. This was so unlike me, to be drawn in by a pair of shoes, so I was cautious. But the closer I looked, the more beautiful they became. A buckle! A luxurious velvet ribbon across the toe! A kitten heel!

Shoes: "Gaze upon us. Behold our majesty." 

Me: "But I already have a pair of shoes on my feet."

Shoes: "Such a rich, vibrant colour. So unique."

Me: "But you probably won't match anything I own."

Shoes: "Such a delicate, whimsical heel."

Me: "But I topple over in anything higher than a flat."

Shoes: "Did you notice the buckle?"

Me: "I'm sold."

And so I bought them. Without anything to wear them with, or any sort of mastery over anything slightly resembling a heel, I bought them. As per my modus operandi, I instantly wore them everywhere. First up: a jaunt at the airport with my parents, to meet family. I kept gazing down at my feet, smiling in adoration. Such lovely shoes I had. Maybe I was a shoe person, after all! Maybe all those women who had scads and scads of shoes in their closets had it right.

Then I started to feel a little bit of a something on the outer regions of my feet. "Uh, hey," said my baby toes. "Something's... not right."

"La la la," I said. "New shoes."

"I mean it," insisted baby toes. "Something is amiss."

"LA LA LA," I said. "NEW SHOES."

"AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" cried baby toes.

"AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" I responded, suddenly and instantly crippled with agonizing pain in both feet. I stopped in the middle of a walkway at the airport and yanked off my stupid shoes. The last two toes on both feet were bright red, and one was bleeding. "What is happening?"

"Oh right," new shoes chimed in. "Did we not mention? BLISTERS. BLISTERS BLISTERS BLISTERS BLISTERS."

I couldn't walk around the airport in bare feet, because I am not ignorant of plantar warts and other various bacteria and disease that rampages wherever there be people, so I hobbled around for two hours, pitifully falling behind my family. I just couldn't keep up! They were all wearing normal shoes!

When I got home, I angrily threw the shoes in my closet. I was furious with myself for being taken in by the colour and the buckle. I had my shoe cycle and I strayed away, and got what I deserved. I would never again buy a pair of shoes before the old one fell apart, and I would not be seduced again.

Except I didn't throw the shoes away. And as I type this, I have band-aids on my baby toes because today at work I wore a skirt with a bit of red in it, and if a person has red shoes in their closet and that same person is wearing a skirt with a bit of red, it's just foolish to wear plain old black shoes. And as much as it pains me to admit it, this is not the first time I have come home from work with band-aids courtesy of those stupid red shoes. I can't resist their siren song. I guess I'm not as wise, or as immune to fashion, as I thought.

i'm too sick to come up with a title

8:15am -

The sun is cracking through the clouds. This is good; I was worried I'd have to stumble to the doctor's office in the dark. Usually I'm at work at this time, so I can't remember what the sky normally looks like at 8:15 in the morning. I feel like today is going to be epic and strange, and all my students and the staff are going to be all, "OMG WHERE IS SHE?????" but honestly, probably that will not happen. More likely the staff will see the TOC in staff devotions and inquire as to who she is in for, and then say, "Oh." The students will eye her as one would eye an unknown animal when they walk in the classroom, but then become accustomed to her and like her better than me. :( (That's the grade sevens, only, though. My older kids probably won't even notice it's not me.)

I'm dressed in my go-to-doctor's outfit under my covers in bed. It's cold outside.

11:00am -

I thought the clinic opened at 9, because apparently I was calling a different clinic inside a different Wal-Mart than the one I intended. I inspected the toothbrushes in the toothbrush aisle that was beside the clinic for 15 minutes and then figured out I was too early, so I drove around Campbell River for 45 minutes because I didn't want to go back to my apartment. The skies were lovely this morning, you guys. Then the doctor told me it was viral, and I just have to get over it. Then I went shopping, and this is what was in my cart:
- raspberry pop tarts
- eggs (for making lemon pudding)
- 2 cans of juice
- 1 can of soup
- a big jug to make juice in
- a new kind of tea
- honey for said tea
- echinacea

I'm eating a pop tart right now. It may have been a mistake. Just like the cheesies yesterday were a mistake also. I shouldn't be allowed to go shopping when I'm sick.

3:00pm -

I've been busy - I watched a movie, and then had a nap. I actually had a nap during the movie, and then thought I should relocate the nap to my bed, and once I was in bed I wasn't tired anymore. Then I finished my book, and if I was at work my work day would be over now, so I feel like I should do some prep for tomorrow. I mean, I definitely need to do some prep for tomorrow, because I have no idea what I'm teaching my grade eights in the morning, or what we'll do in Socials in the afternoon, so I need to do some stuff.

And thus concludes my first ever sick day as a teacher. Ta-da. (That's what I say to my students when I've finished teaching them something. It makes everything very exciting.)

how woozy my eyes

I woke up this morning with a migraine. Probably this resulted from my unfortunate decision to watch 12 episodes of The Office last night because I was tired and didn't feel like doing anything else. Two previous times when I've had migraines I've discovered that distraction tactics work really well - if I just lie in bed all I'm thinking about it my brain and how much it hurts, but if I do other stuff then I don't notice it or focus on it, and it goes away faster. This morning all I had to distract myself with was cleaning my filthy apartment and doing a plethora of dishes; then I could only read. That didn't last very long, because then I fell asleep, and woke up at 1:30! In the afternoon! Sleeping away the entire day. At least the migraine was mostly gone, so I went to Save-On because I'd run out of food.

While at Save-On, I realized I will never say a bad thing about buggies again. I had a million things to get, but couldn't find a quarter anywhere, so I had to use one of those little baskets. That got uncomfortable really fast, and I ended up with a full basket, plus two hands full of yogurt, eggs, butter, and ear plugs. I gazed longingly at all the people with buggies. I have now realized the worth of such an unwieldy machine.

Also, I've left two little tooth-paste bleach stains on my carpet, just as I feared. However, the person before me left cigarette burns in the same carpet, so I think I'll be okay.

watch out for robo-shopper

Something I have not yet mastered: pushing a shopping cart. I have a strong aversion to pushing shopping carts. Whenever Mother and I go shopping, I hold the list and she pushes the cart. (Sidenote: it is really difficult to do both. I was in the checkout and suddenly remembered that I had forgotten the mustard. Sorry mustard, I will return for you another day.) I hate pushing carts. I feel like a hybrid robot/person who hasn’t figured out how to use her mechanical parts yet and keeps banging into things and misfiring her lasers. (How awesome would that be?? I would feel better pushing around a shopping cart with lasers.) I feel more acutely embarrassed when I go down the wrong aisle with a shopping cart, because you have to turn the stupid thing around, which makes it more obvious that you made a mistake. Also, you can’t squeeze through places with a giant cart banging around. I had to skip aisles and then come back to them later, because of traffic, and I feel this is most inefficient. Don’t even get me started on the produce section. (Although, I had a cute moment: all I know about picking watermelons is that they should be heavy. So I picked up a couple and weighed them in my hands, feeling for the heaviest one. I chose mine, and then noticed a little girl staring at me. As I wheeled away I saw her pick up several watermelons and weigh them in her hands like me. ADORABLE.)

Regretful impulse buy: I was suckered into buying Banana Nut Cheerios because they were on sale. Do you know why they were on sale? BECAUSE THEY ARE DISGUSTING. What I should have bought instead was Apple Cinnamon Cheerios, which is what I had my eye on in the first place. Sometimes it’s worth it to pay a little more for something that is not gross.

Non-regretful impulse buy: lemon gelato. I wanted frozen yogurt, because that’s one of my favourite things, but it’s super hard to find frozen yogurt. Gelato isn’t that bad for you either, so I thought I’d take a chance. I opened it when I got home and was a little discouraged because it looked like a container full of an invisible dessert. I guess when you turn lemons into gelato they lose all colour? I thought it would be yellow, but it’s like a colourless void. It’s tasty, though. (I also have lemon yogurt. Maybe I should branch off into some other flavours. Although, that’s what I was trying to do with stupid Banana Nut Cheerios.)

Somebody’s moving out today. I hope it’s Jerkface Music Guy. I ended up calling the super guy and found out that somebody on the third floor had been evicted, and was just being difficult until moving day. I’ll find out at 2am if I can’t hear any music!

with its usual severity

Hey! Remember this? And remember when I said I'd buy it when I became a millionaire, and/or a real teacher? (Actually, I totally forgot I said I'd buy it when I became a real teacher. Which makes my news less exciting, since it's exactly what I said I would do.) Well, that website turned one year old so the guy had a 50% off sale! Which I took advantage of to also buy this. So now it costs the same as if I'd have just bought the first poster initially. But now I have two! And a classroom in which to put them.

So it's still hot out. I know I just talked about that yesterday, but I think I'm a pretty singularly-focused individual, as evidenced by a million posts about worry re: Campbell River, then a million posts re: getting the job in Campbell River, and now a million posts on how stinking hot it is. Sorry. But at least I gave you a heads up! I'm considerate like that.

Today I wore shoes to work, due to dress code regulations. However, as soon as I sat down I took my shoes off, and was working the whole time in bare feet, and guess who noticed? Nobody. Because nobody looks at my feet when I'm working.

Then I went to the mall and bought earrings I didn't need while searching for earrings I did need (which I also bought), and then a necklace and then two posters on the internet. I think someone needs to take my credit card away.