second movement tacit

Ingrained habits.

2008-04-02T16:49:00.002-03:00

Since being diagnosed as lactose intolerant, I've had to make some major changes in my diet. There's a lot more reading of food labels at the grocery store and a lot of sending waitstaff back to the kitchen to inquire whether their pancake mix contains milk.

But the fact that I lived for 24 years being able to drink milk has ingrained certain habits in me and every now and then, when I'm in a rush or stressed out, I get to a restaurant or coffee shop and order without thinking.

For example, this afternoon after my last class (ever!) I needed a caffeine boost before being able to delve into my major paper. This brought me to Second Cup, conveniently located right across from the law building. In a state of exhaustion, I ordered a giant vanilla bean latte, sat down with my books and then realized there was no way I was going to be able to drink it.

21 days.

2008-04-01T14:51:00.002-03:00

Three weeks from today I will in Athens, spending the day seeing the Acropolis and the city.
Three weeks and one day from today, I will be onboard a cruise ship, heading to the Greek Islands, Egypt and Turkey.

It is difficult to concentrate on writing a paper when I'm distracted by planning camel riding adventures to the pyramids with future cruise mates.

Coda.

2008-03-28T12:40:00.002-03:00

Last night was the last Domus of the year and my last Domus ever. It was a little bit nostalgic. I returned to Quinpool for some pre-domus drinks with the girls, since that's where many pre-domus parties were held over the last couple years. While downing a bottle of wine, we reminisced about all the crazy adventures that had stemmed from drunken nights at Domus...like the 5 in 7 week, the "points system" and the mini-pizza adventure one night in September of first year....and many more adventures, most of which are unfortunately not suitable for publication on the internet.

We headed to Domus, where we drank and danced. When the bar closed, we headed to the Alehouse. Sometime around 330am I found myself embraced in a giant group hug of law students, all swaying back and forth as the band played Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol.

This is it. Things are coming to an end. The real world is fast approaching. The second movement is coming to a close. Another chapter in my life over, time to move on to something new.

It's a little bit sad. I'm going to miss these people.

The coda begins. 17 days left. Graduation in less than two months.

Once upon a time I used to update.

2008-01-29T12:47:00.000-04:00

Then I got sick, then I got busy with school, then I got sick again (story of my life), then the boyfriend got in a motorcycle accident, then I spent all my free time in hospitals, then it was exam time, then it was Christmas, then I went to New York, and now here I am, just recovered from yet another illness that my shitty immunce system can't fight off. Somewhere in between all that I got drunk, partied with friends, destroyed yet another digital camera by dropping it into water, and ate out far more than my waistline would have liked.

And now, there are only a few short months left in this second movement. Then articling and real life and paying bills. It'll be time for a new and improved blog....I can't decide what I should name it....I fear that it may end up being the equivalent of Berlioz's March to the Scaffold.

There's been too much funny stuff going on lately, like the following conversation:

Me (after spending an hour cooking): Time for supper boys.
Liam (age 8, entering the kitchen): What's that disgusting smell?
Jacob (age 5, seated at the table): That's your foooood.
Me (unsuccessful attempt to contain my laughter).

5am.

2007-09-08T05:18:00.000-03:00

It is 5am. I am now the most sober I have been in the past 24 hours. Unfortunately, I am also wide awake.

No, I have not been drinking all day. I have been stoned out of my tree on cold medication. Usually my body can handle cold medication, but for no apparent reason, today it chose to go psycho on me. I took two Tylenol cold and sinus before my 930 class this morning. Six hours later, I was still so high, I was lying in my bed giggling. When I finally started to sober up, I also started feeling like crap again and had to take more drugs. I switched to a different variety in hopes of avoiding another crazy reaction. No luck. Normally I would have welcomed the giddy high feeling, given that I was feeling like crap. But when you've been high for 6 hours, it starts to get a little old. Ugh.

2007-08-10T00:20:00.000-03:00

I have a week left of work.
I have about three weeks worth of work to do.
I'm not sure exactly how this is going to work.

Teenagers.

2007-08-07T00:30:00.000-03:00

As I sit here, waiting up for the teenager who was supposed to be home a half an hour ago, I suddenly get a glimpse of what parents go through during the teenage years.

This is agony and I'm not even his mother.
God help me when my own kids are teenagers.

33 minutes late and counting....

Once upon a time I used to update...

2007-08-02T22:43:00.000-03:00

Nowadays, I'm just too busy. I work a lot. When I'm not working, I'm running around trying to see friends who complain about never seeing me. Other than that, I sleep....not enough, mind you.

So what's been happening? Lots.

Unfortunately I'm too tired to write about it. And I'm not supposed to be looking at the computer screen anyway. Yesterday, my eye twitch suddenly worsened. Usually it just makes my eyelid jump, but for no reason it chose to expand out to the muscles at the side of my eye as well and caused my cheek to go numb. Apparently, I need to rest and relax and limit my reading/computer screen time. (What the doctor didn't seem to understand is that that would essentially involve me quitting my job.)

I never had any problems with my eyes until I went to law school. Now I've got a twitch. Occupational hazard?

Must get off computer.

Romkey comes home tomorrow!

Newfieland.

2007-07-10T23:11:00.000-03:00

The last time I went to Newfoundland was with the Provincial Under 15 Soccer team to compete at the Atlantics. It was not the most pleasant of experiences.

We left about 3am in order to catch the ferry from Cape Breton. Our ferry crossing began in a torrential rainstorm, accompanied with a lot of wind. About two hours out, a pregnant woman went into labour and they had to turn the boat around. The rest of the crossing was horrendous. It felt like we were travelling through some sort of monsoon hurricane (if there is such a thing). My father, acting as team doctor, ran out of Gravol. Everyone was seasick. People were puking all over the boat. I remember curling up on the bench seat of a booth in the cafeteria with my sister and wanting to die. The crossing took about six hours longer than it was supposed to. I swore I would never go back to Newfoundland unless I was on a plane.

Tomorrow I do just that. I expect I'll enjoy myself a little more this time.

Voicemail.

2007-07-09T23:59:00.000-03:00

"It was nice to have seen you the other night in the Delta. You look wonderful....(pause)...You look very happy. I hope things are going well."

Thank you.
I am.
They are.

Part 2 of Canada Day Weekend: Downtown Drunkeness

2007-07-02T09:36:00.000-03:00

sleep in.
miss breakfast at smitty's.
head downtown with the gang.
buskers.
music.
crazy dancing tourists.
so many people.
drinks on the deck at peakes.
dinner at fishbones.
back to the apartment.
drink.
send canada day wishes to dirk in rwanda.
drink some more.
back downtown.
yell at the bouncer at peakes (who wouldn't let more people out on the deck).
push our way to the front of the crowd anyway.
fireworks.
dancing.
drunkeness.
garlic fingers.
sleep.

Part 1 of Canada Day Weekend: Down East Adventure

2007-07-01T10:26:00.000-03:00

road trip.
panmure island.
napping on the beach.
montague superstore.
gourmet bbq.
lounging on the deck in the sun.
feeding the horses.
saving a baby bird.
emergency stop on the way back to town to put the top on the convertible.
downpour.
a complete double rainbow.
sunshine.
preparations for canada day.
oceans 13.
sleep.
middle of the night phone calls that made me giggle.
more sleep.

the skinny little kenyan.

2007-06-28T23:10:00.000-03:00

perhaps after he told me all my secrets
i should have told him
the one thing he didn't know.

Jump.

2007-06-24T23:08:00.000-03:00

Sigh.

2007-06-19T00:22:00.000-03:00

After spending yet another night at the office until past midnight, I find myself wishing that, like my sister, I had done dental hygiene instead of law school. The reasons for this are as follows:

She's done of school.
She's making more money than I'll be making for several years.
She starts work at 830am and leaves at 430pm and doesn't think about work outside of that.

I fail to see how I'm paying almost double for my degree and she's making almost double my salary within weeks of her graduation, when I'm the one who is at work until midnight.

Life's not fair.

Not impressed.

2007-06-07T23:35:00.000-03:00

When you tell me something is going to take 2-3 days, and that 2-3 days turns into 4-5, and that 4-5 turns into 7 days and then into ten days, I am not impressed. I am further unimpressed by the fact that your fucking answering machine says you're in the office but can't take calls and that I should call back in ten minutes, when you are clearly not in the office.

If I had a choice, I would have fired you last week.

Legs of steel.

2007-05-31T23:11:00.000-03:00

Yesterday was the first time I had been running in so long I can't remember. It was painful. But on the bright side, my neck didn't hurt, I only had numbness in one of my arms and I made it about twice as far as I was expecting.

Yesterady wasn't as painful as today though. By the end of the day, I was really wishing the office had an elevator. Oh my legs. They feel like lead.

And of course, there's no use in running if you're not planning on BBQing a feast afterwards. Muchos deliciousness.

It's starting to feel like summer.

The freak attack.

2007-05-30T23:24:00.000-03:00

I was doing just fine, until I saw the needle. I hadn't freaked out when the nurse put the tourniquet on my arm or when she had checked the veins on my arm to see which one to use. She had offered to let me lie down but I told her I would be fine on the stool. It wasn't fainting I was afraid of. I'm not a fainter. I'm a freaker. I freak out and flail madly and hyperventilate and do all sorts of things that aren't good to do when you've got a needle in your arm.

I didn't bother telling her that the last time I'd had blood taken, it took my mother to restrain me, one nurse to hold my arm flat and another nurse to jab me with the needle (I was 22 at the time). I didn't bother telling her about the nightmares I'd had before having surgery last year where I moved my arm just as they inserted the IV and it slashed my vein and there was blood everywhere. So when she told me I should look the other way, I knew I was going to have to watch the needle anyway, out of fear that when I felt the first prick of pain, I would move my arm and much bleeding would ensue. But seeing the needle also meant my mental state would become panicked. And panic, I did.

The nurse, in an attempt to keep me breathing started asking me simple questions. First off, my name....which I couldn't remember. All I could remember was my middle name so that was what I told her. Then she asked me my age....which I couldn't remember. All I knew was that I had been born in April, but I had no idea what day or what year or what year it currently was. So I said April, but then realized that wasn't a number. Then I told her I was twenty. And then I realized that wasn't right, so I added a two. But I realized I wasn't twenty two either and so I said I didn't know. And then I remembered I was twenty four.

I think my sense of panic was heightened by the fact that I had no idea who I was or what day it was. All I could remember was that there was a needle sticking out of my arm. Two vials of my blood later the needle was removed from my arm and I was slowly able to regain my senses. The nurse asked me what I was studying and I told her I was in law school.

I am sure she thinks I'm a complete idiot and will never come to me for legal advice.

Of all the luck.

2007-05-28T22:59:00.000-03:00

A series of stupid decisions.
Consequences I knew existed but didn't want to face.
Terrible timing.

2007-05-16T22:45:00.000-03:00

It's kind of like Life keeps handing me get out of jail free cards,
And I keep saying, "No thanks."

Misery loves company.

2007-05-12T00:00:00.000-03:00

Disastrous days seem to have become a theme in my life lately. They're the kind of days where so many things go wrong that you don't think it could possibly get any worse, and then it does. (It being Law Day, we had spent half the day at the courthouse giving tours to five hundred disinterested and badly behaved high school students. Things had continued downhill from there.)

By 5pm, we had decided to leave work and head across the street for a couple drinks. By 630pm, I'm sitting on the floor of Scott's cubicle, drinking coolers from the fridge in the kitchen at work, while we debate if anything else in our day could possibly go wrong.

About 7pm, Scott realizes his car keys are in his coat pocket, which he had left at the courthouse earlier on. We head down to the courthouse. The door is locked. And then, out of nowhere, the skies open up and it starts piss pouring rain (I kid you not about this). We are in unspoken agreement about how to improve this terrible day. So we head to the liquor store, grab three bottles of wine and head back to my place where we drink, watch a CSI marathon and get something to eat.

By the time we have figured out how to bust into the courthouse on a Friday night, the terrible day just seems funny.

A recipe to cure the cranky.

2007-05-09T00:07:00.000-03:00

Drag lazy bum off couch
Stop hating the world
Go to a bar with good music, cheap food and abnormally large mugs of beer
Rant and vent about everything and anything
Get talked into one more drink
Walk around downtown
Sit on the wharf, watch the waves, wonder what's going on in the creepy unlit area of the park
Love being on PEI.

Unfortunately the recipe to cure the cranky is not likely to help me be awake at what will likely be a long day of work tomorrow.

Spiderman 3.

2007-05-07T00:56:00.000-03:00

Terrible movie. Definitely the worst movie I've seen in a while. Every aspect, the acting, the special effects, the music, etc., was bad. Save yourself 10 bucks and three hours of your life and don't go see it.

And yes, I know I haven't blogged about Montreal or the great moving adventure yet. I am busy people. I'll get around to it soon. Just hold your horses.

Small appliances.

2007-05-05T19:16:00.000-03:00

When I'm out of sorts or don't know what to do with myself, there are two things that are guaranteed to make me feel better.

I go shopping for small appliances at Sears and Canadian Tire.
I go to the bookstore.

Today I chose shopping for small appliances. Sears always has great sales on Saturdays and when Canadian Tire has a sale, things are cheap. I don't know what it is about small appliances and cookware that calm me down, but it always works. Today was no exception. I like my small appliances and let's face it, there's not that much to do on a Saturday in May on PEI when it's snowing.

My small appliance fetish is one thing I always take into account when I'm looking at apartments. I need enough counter and cupboard space to hold my various appliances, including my microwave, toaster oven, George Foreman grill, waffle iron, hand blender, grilled cheese sandwich maker, panini grill, blender, juicer, etc. Something about small appliances makes me happy. Clearly, I really need to get a life.

A part of us remains wherever we have been.

2007-05-03T22:56:00.000-03:00

Even when death is expected, its arrival is still unexpected. The part of the brain that says we should accept what is going to happen is somehow overtaken by hope and denial. And so when death actually occurs, there's still that sense of shock, even though we've known what is coming.

The people who enter our lives change us. Whether they are friends we have known forever or enemies we would rather forget, we would not be the same people we are today if we had not met them. Sometimes we are not aware of how others have impacted our lives or how they will continue to affect us after they are gone.

If you had never been here, my memories of that summer would be completely different. I might never have met some of my very best friends. I would not have learned to make crepes, or spent that afternoon at the beach, or laughed that night at Peakes, or worn a sequined cowboy hat around Montague one afternoon just for the heck of it. I might not be in the place I am in right now.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth
you are weeping for that which has been your delight. -Kahlil Gibran

Adam, may you rest in peace, knowing that you touched many more lives than just mine.

Still packing...

2007-04-23T18:18:00.000-03:00

You know that point in packing where you have to create more mess before things start to get packed away and everything looks straightened out? I think normal people only go through that phase once. I have been through it three times in the last 24 hours.

I must have missed the day in kindergarten where they taught us how to pack effectively. My method of packing involves making a huge mess, turning the mess into piles of stuff and then moving all the piles around. But I've somehow managed to move the piles around so much that I've taken myself right back to square one and I've now got a mess on my hands.

Packing.

2007-04-22T23:55:00.000-03:00

I am terrible at packing. I also hate doing it. This is why I am blogging instead of putting all the stuff that's on my floor into one of the many empty boxes in my room. I should have just hired movers. Time is ticking and the packing is never going to get done. And then after the packing, there's still a large amount of cleaning to do.

But on the bright side, this is the last time I will be packing up to move to a new place where I will only be staying for a year. This time next year, I will be packing up to head home for good. Finally. And then buying a house and not moving anywhere else for at least a few years. No more packing on a yearly basis.

Downsizing.

2007-04-20T11:02:00.000-03:00

My ex-boyfriend was one of those people who could fit all of his stuff into one large hiking backpack. When he moved out, it took him less than 2 hours to pack up all his wordly possessions. He used to laugh and say, "You have way too many clothes."

I have decided that he may be right.

My closet here is 8 feet wide. Every inch of hanger space is used. The shelf on the top is piled with sweaters that are stacked so high they are in danger of falling over. I have a dresser that is overflowing, two large under the bed storage crates, and two garbage bags full of clothes that don't fit anywhere else at the bottom of my closet. There are 19 pairs of jeans in my closet. There are clothes I never wear because I forgot I owned them. I don't even remember what's in the two garbage bags full of clothes, because I put them there last September and haven't opened them since.

So today, I am downsizing. Getting rid of all the stuff I never wear, the stuff I only ever wore once and all the stuff I clearly don't need. Why I keep buying jeans when I already have 19 pairs is beyond me, but I'm pretty sure there is no reason to have that many pairs of jeans. I have enough pajamas to wear a different set every night and not have to do laundry for a month, which seems mildly ridiculous given that I usually sleep in my underwear. Why there are things in my closet with the tags still on them that I have never worn, I don't know.

One garbage bag full after going through my sweater shelf....I feel lighter already. But there's still no way I'll ever be able to fit my clothes into one backpack. I'll aim for three large suitcases.

Done of 2L!

2007-04-19T13:04:00.000-03:00

We celebrated in an appropriately drunken fashion. Can't remember a damn thing.

Sometimes, you wake up, roll over, look at the person lying next to you and think "oh god". And then there are the mornings where you would be pissing yourself laughing at the situation you find yourself in, except that your head hurts so bad that it's painful to move. And you're trying to figure out what the hell happened but you don't even know how you got home.

The only thing I can remember is a conversation that occurred about 5am, in which I demonstrated that tampons expand when you put them in water. Why there was a tampon in my kitchen and why I felt the need to demonstrate this is beyond me.

Yes, I know, I'm a rockstar.

Ph-antastic!

2007-04-13T01:34:00.000-03:00

I'm sitting here in bed, watching Shawn's grad recital via direct internet feed from Victoria, BC. Shawn has just walked on stage to perform his final piece, the Poulenc Sonata for Clarinet and Piano. I can see and hear everything right here in Nova Scotia, all the way on the opposite coast (though his recital started at 8pm Victoria time, which means it didn't start till midnight Halifax time, which is making for a late night, but totally worth it). Our music tech prof from undergrad would have loved this. And to top it off, we've got the crew from the Vegas all lumped into one giant MSN convo, and are raving about how great he sounds (even through shitty laptop speakers and headphones....which can only mean it would be even more impressive in person).

I am really missing the days when the word "jury" brought about a terror that had nothing to do with a court room or evidence law.

24 years and 9 months.

2007-04-10T13:40:00.000-03:00

That's how long I've had to put up with my womb buddy.

24 years ago today, I saw a bright light, and a doctor's face and a hand reaching in to my mother's womb. I told my womb buddy to move out of the way, cause I was getting out into the real world first. (Well, I don't actually remember that happening, but I am sure that's exactly how it happened.)

Back in the days of playing dress up, having a birthday in April wasn't such a bad thing. Now, having a birthday in the middle of the exam period means we get to celebrate by studying. If only we'd just stayed in the womb for the extra few weeks we were supposed to, our birthday would have fallen right after the exam period.....sigh.

Self Conflict.

2007-04-08T23:51:00.000-03:00

Yesterday, I almost passed out twice.
Last night, I had chest pain so bad I was almost certain I was having a heart attack.
This morning, I ate half a bagel and promptly got sick.
Today, my hands were shaking so bad I had difficulty typing.
Right now, I feel like I am disastrously drunk and excessively happy, even though I haven't had a drop of alcohol.

What the hell is wrong with me??

If I have to write another constitutional exam in a state where I'm giggling at my microwave while trying to fend off the giant blue parasite with a tail that's growing out of my brain, it is not going to be a good situation when my firm asks for my marks.

The Drink.

2007-04-08T19:16:00.000-03:00

"The drink" is a matter of national concern according to a 1946 decision of the Privy Council.

Oh, wouldn't a drink be nice right now. I'd even take a cold beer. (And I don't drink beer.) I've been dying to get loaded drunk ever since an MSN conversation yesterday with my ex.

him: it's saturday - how's your hangover?? mine is progressing nicely. (note: in his part of the world, he had just rolled out of bed)
me: very funny. i haven't had a drink in two weeks. well, i had a glass of wine at supper yesterday but that doesn't count.
him: wow. what happened? epiphany of some kind?
me: oh, you know. this little thing called exams just kind of snuck up on me.
him: oooooooooooooooh. right.
me: what were you up to last night that's got you hungover this morning?
him: oh you know, just being a drunk.

I have a strong urge to down the bottle of wine in my fridge and go dancing right now. However, with a constitutional exam in the morning, I'm thinking that would probably not be a wise decision. 10 days and counting.

Hell Hole.

2007-04-07T11:54:00.000-03:00

The people who live across the hall from me are drug addicts, constantly involved in domestic disputes which lead to them yelling at the top of their lungs about who owes who money for cocaine and why there's not ecstasy left. The police have been here. I often wake up to security removing one of them from the hallway because the other one is refusing to open the door to the apartment and they're having a screaming match through the door.

The people who live upstairs have a large subwoofer which is hooked up to their computer, on which they play video games involving a lot of shooting and banging and explosions. Except they only play video games between the hours of 12:00am and 4:00am. During the day, I can only assume they are involved of some sort of construction scheme. There really isn't anything else that could explain the constant hammering and banging and electric drills.

Next year, I am living in a building of which the majority of the residents are seniors and most of the rest are professional students. Although the rent is going to be $250 more a month than what I'm paying now, I can't wait.

Typing dyslexia.

2007-04-02T22:59:00.000-03:00

I have self-diagnosed myself with a disease I refer to as typing dyslexia. I learned to type back in the day when my computer ran DOS instead of Windows, using what must have been one of the first versions of typing tutor (think blue screen, white font). However, being about 5 years old at the time, I didn't have the patience to actually complete the program, with the result being that at the age of 23, I can type like a maniac but don't use my pinky finger or hit the number keys with the proper fingers. I like to think of myself as a fast three finger typer. I'm usually pretty accurate, except for in my class notes, where my typing dyslexia comes out everywhere.

My typing dyslexia manifests itself in two ways. First, when I'm supposed to hit a key with a finger on my right hand, I instead hit a key with the corresponding finger on my left hand. For example, "get" becomes "git" or "snow" becomes "snwo". Secondly, it sometimes happens that I'll hit keys in the wrong order, so that if I'm supposed to type "impairment", I might type "imapriment".

I also have another typing problem that seems to be the result of some malfunction in my brain in turning audio signals into tactile typing. Basically, I hear a word and know what the word I'm supposed to type is, but when I begin typing the word, my tactile memory takes over and types out another word with the same beginning or ending or sound. For example, I'll substitute the word "permission" with "permissive" or "offenders" with "offence" or "crime" with "time". This usually doesn't bother me, because I know what I meant to say and it only happens on a consistent basis in my class notes.

Tonite, as I'm going through my constitutional notes, I come across the sentence, "McLachlin says you can't identify a group of your computer from being unworthy to participate".

Poisson d'avril!

2007-04-01T18:37:00.000-03:00

Up until high school, the large majority of my education was in French. In elementary school, all my classes with the exception of English (obviously) were in French.

In French, April Fools' day is known as poisson d'avril. The trick you play on your friends is to try to attach small paper cut-outs shaped like fish to their back. When they discover the fish on their back, you say "Poisson d'avril!". This was a hillarious amount of fun for us in elementary school and a nightmare for our teachers.

April Fools' Day at law school sucks. Everyone is stressed out and cranky. No one is laughing. In fact, half the people in this library probably don't even know what day it is. It kind of feels like an April Fools' joke gone wrong.

I have an urge to cut out a bunch of fish and run around the library slapping them on people's backs.

Sunday morning.

2007-04-01T08:57:00.000-03:00

Sometimes I think about that morning when I woke up and decided to apply to law school.
There are days I think that I didn't actually wake up that morning, that I dreamt the whole thing and I'm still suffering through this terrible nightmare.

Someone wake me up, please.

Kidnapped.

2007-03-30T16:21:00.000-03:00

I was at the library last night and had finished the first draft of my paper. A little bit tired of copyright law, I decided I'd catch a bus home a half hour earlier than planned and attempt to do some constitutional reading at home. I packed up my stuff, went to my locker and put on my coat. Just as I'm about to leave the locker room, Matt comes running around the corner, yells "Sheena!", and envelops me in a bear hug. Five seconds later, Martin appears and announces, "We've been drinking at the Grad House since 5." And then Scott round the corner, sees me, and announces, "You're coming to Domus with us!" I tell them I can't, that I have work to do and need to go home. But they won't listen to any excuses and before I know it, I have been flung over Scott's shoulder and am being carried out of Weldon (as the security guard gives them some nasty looks).

I try to convince them that I can't go to a bar wearing an old sweatshirt, baggy jeans and no make-up,carrying a bookbag, and that maybe I should go home to change first. They see right through my plan and escort me down Spring Garden Road, with arms locked around me so tightly I have no chance to escape. I'm subjected to drunken ramblings, including some about how it's a good thing I'm coming to Domus because a huge meteor might hit the Earth and destroy it and how would I feel if that happened because I didn't go to Domus. About halfway there, I stop protesting and decide it is the last Domus of the year and I'll just stay to have my free drink and then catch the bus home.

But the boys know me too well. They make my first drink a double and before I've finished that, we've had some jaeger bombs, and my drink just keeps magically refilling itself. By 11pm, I've got quite a buzz going. By 1130pm, I am drunk. And then more friends arrive and I'm having a good time and at some point, while I'm on the dance floor upstairs, I miss the last bus home. But by that point it didn't matter too much because I was drunk and having a good time.

About 1:15 I decide I should head home. The boys must have continued their pace of drinking after that, because neither of the two in constitutional with me made it to class this morning.

Resolution.

2007-03-29T01:05:00.000-03:00

Tomorrow I'm turning over a new leaf and learning a new life skill. It's called getting out of bed when your alarm goes off in the morning. Those who know me know that I do not possess this skill, that I will stay in bed until the last possible minute, and convince myself there's really no need for a shower or make up.

The problem with taking an hour and a half to get up is that I'm wasting an hour and a half of time which, frankly, at this time of year I haven't got time to waste. So tomorrow morning, I'm going to get out of bed when my alarm goes off.

(And when I say that, I really mean I'm going to get out of bed when my third alarm goes off, because anyone who has seen me try to walk or talk or function after my first alarm knows that I literally stumble around like I'm drunk (often resulting in me falling over) and that any attempt to have a conversation with me generally results in me staring at you like a newborn child trying to figure out how speech works.)

Ok, to bed. Alarm set.

Advocating.

2007-03-28T12:03:00.000-03:00

I was hoping the office would be quiet this morning so that I could just close a couple files and then get some work done on my major paper. Instead, less than 30 seconds after I arrive, a group of four guys arrives. They are your typical straight A students, all upset after being informed they will have to face a Senate hearing after being accused of plagiarizing an assignment. It was quite the task to try to get the story straight, with all four of them trying to talk at the same time and getting upset with and yelling at each other.

When they left, I started thinking about that dreadful day in first year of undergrad, when I arrived home to find a letter from the University Senate stating that my roomate and I were being charged with a disciplinary offence, that we would be required to attend a hearing and make arrangements for our own defence and witnesses. And all I could think was, I know exactly how those guys are feeling.

Luckily for me and Sarah, since it was our first offence, we were able to resolve the matter with a mediator and received a suspended fine, which meant that so long as we didn't commit any other offences, we didn't have to pay it.

What offence did we commit that was contrary to Acadia's disciplinary code? We violated the residence rules by having mini-lights in our room. Apparently mini-lights are a fire hazard (despite what it says right on the box). The real problem was that the first time we got caught with them, we played dumb, told the RA we didn't know the regulation and she let us off with a warning. Our mistake was putting them back up and getting caught by the same RA a couple weeks later. I know, we're quite the deviant students.

2007-03-27T13:33:00.000-03:00

knot in my stomach
lump in my throat
paralysed but shaking like a leaf.

Quotes from the Tower.

2007-03-27T10:12:00.000-03:00

"call me a bitch. it will make me feel better."
"you're crying and you want me to call you a bitch?"

"did you really just compare seeing me walk into the library to walking in on your boyfriend, naked in bed with another girl?"
"yes. both are equally as shocking."

"you need a hug. oh wait, are you sick? i don't want to get too close. i'll hug you with my thighs instead. you'd better not give me an std."
"are you trying to comfort me by accusing me of having an std."
"well it's not just you. i was just told to go by the assumption that everyone had one."

Booked.

2007-03-25T23:54:00.000-03:00

Flight, booked.
Hotel, booked.
Shopping, to do.

Going to Montreal.
The city of shopping and drinking and jazz and fun.

Only Lindy could have our trip completely planned less than 8 hours after we'd made the decision to go. Only I could convince Kristen that she had to come with us as well.

Doing the happy dance.....in shoes I won't need soon cause I'll buy new ones in Montreal!!!

What's that sound?

2007-03-25T09:41:00.000-03:00

It's silence. Beautiful, beautiful silence. This is what I like waking up to. There are no speeding cars, ambulances, street cleaners, screeching brakes.....instead there are chirping birds, the wind and the occasional sound of a ball being bounced down the street. No one is rushing out to shop because it's Sunday and you can't shop today. There is no noise, just calm and quiet.

I so do not want to go back to Halifax. I want to wake up to silence again tomorrow morning. Don't make me go back to that noisy city where I have to stay locked up in the library, looking out the window at the beautiful weather.

Immaturity.

2007-03-23T16:39:00.000-03:00

Sometimes you go out with no intention of drinking. Then you see someone at the bar that you weren't expecting to see. You realize the bar is empty enough that he's going to see you eventually and that this is probably going to lead to a conversation. It suddenly dawns on you that you can't handle talking to him sober, so you start shooting tequila (complete with licking the salt off other girls' breasts).

Then you continue forcing more drinks into yourself, while sitting with the boys at the tab table (because they provide an excellent source of protection) and having the following conversation every five minutes:
scott: we're rich!!!
sheena: we're rich!!!
scott and sheena in unison: WE'RE RICH!!!!!
[loud clanking of glasses as we cheers each other]

At some point in the night, you've begun chasing shots of straight vodka with rye and ginger. You are no longer aware of who is in the bar. It doesn't matter that you're the only one dancing.

Then you wake up at 730am the next morning, surprisingly not as hungover as anticipated. And you lay there laughing to yourself and wondering how you survived avoiding the boys you didn't want to see in junior high without the assistance of alcohol, and wondering if it's possible that you're more immature at 23 than you were at 13.

Chill out.

2007-03-22T18:49:00.000-03:00

My brother came home to visit for a week last summer. Along with him, he brought this nifty little accessory for his laptop known as the Chill Mat. It's basically like a little shelf which goes under your laptop and has a couple fans in it to help move the air and reduce the heat that builds up when your laptop has been running for a long time.

I kidnapped it and brought it back to Halifax with me. But he got me back by stopping in Hali on his way back to school and stealing it back. Thankfully, he happens to be a wonderful brother and bought me my own for Christmas. This immediately caused me to start telling all my friends they should get one too, which resulted in the Staples in Charlottetown being sold out.

It's not that my laptop gets super hot or that it needs any extra fans. It's just that my day usually begins and ends with me in bed, my laptop on my lap, watching movies or surfing online and while sitting on top of my duvet, the fans on my laptop don't function so well. And since overheating is what leads to a lot of problems with laptops, the Chill Mat is a perfect solution.

Sadly, the morning after a terribly drunken St. Paddy's Day party, I woke up to discover my laptop was warmer than usual. I soon realized (in a hungover haze) that the problem was that part of the power cord, which connects to the USB port of my computer, had been ripped out so that wire was exposed and completely detached. I'm not sure if this was the result of a drunken fall, sabotage by Kristen or a ghost.

I finally got around to calling Targus today to see about getting a replacement power cord. My discovery of the day is that although Targus customer support thinks my call is very important, they will not answer their phone. They also have really bad hold music. My poor little Chill Mat is still without power.

I survived.

2007-03-19T20:58:00.000-03:00

It would have been much easier if they'd given in to my demands for laughing gas. The experience was not all that pleasant, but I survived. But let's just say, I won't be going back to have that done again.

Me, freaking out.

2007-03-19T09:10:00.000-03:00

"do you have to take my blood pressure? i really don't like having my blood pressure taken."

"yes."

"well i'll just warn you then that i'm probably going to freak out and my pulse will be racing and it will probably say that my blood pressure's high, but it isn't, it's just that having my blood presure taken really stresses me out."

"it's not that bad. it's just your blood pressure. just relax."

"can't you just lie and write down 120 over 80 or whatever it's supposed to be? i know it's low. i have good blood pressure."

"no."

"well can they do this under general anesthetic? then i get to go to sleep, have a nice three hour nap and wake up without having felt a thing, and you won't have to deal with me freaking out."

"it's not an invasive procedure. you don't need to be asleep. you're not going to be able to feel anything."

"yes but i could really use a three hour nap. are you sure i can't be put under?"

"for the love of pete, sheena, you cannot be put under. people don't get put under for this. besides, remember what happened the last time they tried to wake up you from being under? you kept on sleeping till they pumped you full of sugar."

"well what about valium? or laughing gas? i like laughing gas!"

"NO!"

"well can i maybe get some laughing gas to go? like, to calm me down afterwards?"

"oh my god. NO! would you stop freaking out?"

"you have done this before right? i mean, you're experienced at it?"

"well, you'll be the first human i've done it on. but it's a simple procedure."

"oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. why didn't you tell me that before i signed the consent form! i don't think this is fully informed consent. i think maybe you should give me those forms back."

"would you relax."

"RELAX??! how am i supposed to relax?? i'm going to need a drink before i go in there."

"you absolutely cannot have any alcohol before you come in. that would be a very, very bad idea."

"oh god. oh god. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"i'll see you monday the 19th at six."

Inner Leprechaun = Released.

2007-03-18T21:03:00.000-03:00

St. Paddy's Day is probably best summed up in pictures:

Let's just say my plan of not going out or drinking at all somehow got turned around by the Newfs. Good times in the Maritimes.

2007-03-17T00:01:00.000-03:00

And suddenly, everything changes.

One drink.

2007-03-16T01:23:00.000-03:00

I wasn't going to drink at all, but then I figured I might as well have my Domus freebie. This turned out to be a big mistake. Within 15 minutes my stomach was in agony, I was nauseous and sweating. The combination of the bar being a million degrees and cigarette smoke being blown into the bar was enough to make me feel like I'd died and gone to hell (if that's what hell feels like, I think I'll start behaving). Then I got groped by a fuckhead who seems to forget he's dating one of my friends. So between feeling nauseous/uncomfortable/violated it wasn't what I'd described as a good night.

And it's not likely to get much better since I'm now in so much pain I won't be able to sleep. I already know exactly what the doctor's going to say.

I have incredible pizzazz.

2007-03-14T01:20:00.000-03:00

I love this feeling. This sense of invincibility. Feeling like myself. Where I have urges to just break out into random dance. And even the knowledge that it can only last a few more days doesn't get me down.

I like to listen to sad music when I'm really happy. I don't know why I do this, but it somehow speaks to me a lot more than it does when I'm bummed out. They say Beethoven wrote the Moonlight Sonata during one of the happiest times of his life. Maybe he was on to something.

I'm so tempted to pick up the phone and call you right now. I wish the world didn't have timezones.

there's things i remember
there's things i forget
i miss you, i guess that i should
three thousand five hundred miles away
what would you change if you could?

Tennis.

2007-03-13T08:56:00.000-03:00

The ball is in your court now.
I think you should just let it lie.
I think we should stop playing this game.
Shake hands and say "good times".
And walk away still friends.
Before it's too late.
Before anyone gets hurt.
Because it's kind of a miracle that we kept it a secret this long.
Neither of us wins in this game.
So I hope you can just let the ball lie.
Because I think it's time to walk away.

No longer homeless.

2007-03-12T18:30:00.000-03:00

I signed the lease for my new apartment this morning. I am going to miss Kristen a lot, but living on my own is something I've wanted to do and I plan on having roomies when I move back to the Island.

9th floor view overlooking Spring Garden Road.
2 minute walk from the law school.
heated pool.
doorman.
tim horton's across the street.
buses in every direction right outside my doorstep.

so. effing. excited.
did i mention i'm having a wonderful day? and my paper presentation rocked?

and yes, two minutes ag i was dancing around the living room in my underwear to the spice girls cd (which happened to be left in the stereo from our last party).

Law Ball, The Hangover and The Vegas.

2007-03-12T00:37:00.000-03:00

A friend of mine referred to the law school formal at his school as being "worse than prom", explaining that the girls started shopping for their dresses before September was over (and the ball wasn't till the spring). And today, another friend told me he didn't have a law ball where he "wasn't involved in some sort of scandal". Neither of them went to Dal, but it seems that regardless of where you attend law school, people still enjoy acting a lot like they're in high school.

I had a good time at law ball, though I don't remember a lot of it. We hit up the casino after the ball, where I failed to win next year's tuition but a friend of mine fulfilled her lifelong dream of pulling the handle on a slot machine.

The time change meant I lost an hour of sleep that I really could have used since I had to get up early this morning and travel down to the Vegas to see Curt, a decision which was made at 3am when I arrived home from law ball after a somewhat drunken MSN conversation. Driving exhausted with a hangover on four hours sleep was not fun.

It's weird making the drive down to the valley now. I end up half filled with nostalgia and half filled with regret that it's not the same place it was when I was there. The Vegas is essentially still the same, but what really made it home for the four years I was there was the people, the large majority of whom aren't there anymore. The town is still the same, but it seems emptier without "us" there. It's weird being in a place and thinking "I used to have a life here", "I used to be happy here" and "I used to think I'd come back a lot more often after I left". The house I used to live in, the building I used to practice in, the Academy where I used to teach, the grocery store I used to shop at, the bank machine I used to use....they're all still there, but no longer the pillars of my daily life.

One thing that hasn't changed in Wolfvegas is my love of brunch at Paddy's as a hangover cure. There's nothing like their Irish Breakfast.

It's weird to go back to a home that isn't home anymore. I like Halifax, but I'm really beginning to look forward to being done school and moving back to the Island and "settling down". Not in the whole husband, 2.4 kids, white picket fence and a dog kind of way, but more in the sense of not having a "temporary home" that changes every few years. I am really looking forward to buying furniture that doesn't come with an allan key and assembly instructions in the box and having a couch that wasn't around in the 70s.

Dear Oprah, You Were Right.

2007-03-07T22:49:00.000-04:00

So a couple weeks ago I was at home, bra shopping with my mother and tried on one of Oprah's "favorite bras". I then refused to get it, because while it was comfortable, the words "sexy", "hot" and "va-va voom" could not have been used to describe it and aside from that, it cost $145 (which I suppose isn't a problem if you're Oprah).

So when I got home, I searched the Le Mystere website to see what other styles they had and found one that seemed suitable enough for everyday purposes. Desperate for a new bra, I took a chance, bit the bullet and ordered one online.

My bra arrived today. My boobs are in boob heaven. My shoulders and back aren't aching. I'm literally sitting in the kitchen in just my bra because it feels so damn good. And it does not look nearly as hideous as the one I tried on in the store. I am in love.

I would like to thank the Royal Bank for their generous line of credit, much I which I estimate will be spent in a bra ordering frenzy very soon. If only this bra came in leopard print I might just be the happiest girl in the whole wide world (I have a bit of a thing for leopard print).

Yes, it's true.

2007-03-07T21:22:00.000-04:00

I often do things that I'm told not to. Sometimes it's for the curiosity, sometimes it's for the need to learn the lesson myself, sometimes it's just because of stubborness, and sometimes it's just to see if I can get away with it.

And while I can get away with a lot of things (more than most people would realize), every now and then I can't.

Oops.

Ah well, can't win 'em all. And I did see the consequences of this one coming from a mile away. I will survive.

I am an idiot.

2007-03-06T00:46:00.000-04:00

I just realized my class tomorrow is at 2:30 not 1:00. Because I don't have class at 1:00.
Oh god i have to write my paper.
i make reallyh good garlic bread.

Wake up call.

2007-03-04T19:13:00.000-04:00

I was sitting in the library this afternoon when a friend of mine came over and the following conversation ensued:

Him: "So we're doing an old exam in Civ Pro tomorrow?"
Me: "Yup. Scary, eh?"
Him: "But I don't know anything yet."
Me: "Oh, I estimate I'm about 18 Chapters behind. Civ Pro was the course I was going to learn this semester because the exam wasn't until April. Apparently I forgot I also had Constitutional, Evidence and a paper to write this term."
Him: "That practice exam is like our wake up call. It's time to get our asses in gear."
Me: "Yeah, I got my wake up call a few days ago when I asked someone the date and they told me it was March, and I realized I hadn't done anything all term....not that the wake up call helped me to get anything done all weekend though, it was more like it told me to just roll over and enjoy another five minutes of sleep before the real hell sets in."

The wake up call. We all know it's coming. We're all dreading having it jolt us out of a pleasant sleep. And when it comes, you just want to hang up the phone and pretend it hasn't happened yet.

RUTR

2007-03-02T13:25:00.000-04:00

First roll up the rim win of the season: a free coffee.
When I started rolling up, I saw the word "gagnez" and really hoped it would be the big prize.
Alas, I am perfectly happy with a free coffee.

The Hangover Cure.

2007-03-01T23:53:00.000-04:00

There's something to be said for the type of friend you can call when you arrive home after a night of insane drunkeness, not even quite sure how the night ended up the way it did but knowing you feel like shit about it and:

by the time you arrive on his doorstep with two large coffee, has already designed a worksheet full of questions designed to find out exactly what you did while at the same time making the situation seem funny
tucks you in on the couch and gets you a pillow when you tell him you're too hungover to move
talks you out of going to class
pretends he's an alchemist and feeds you his hangover cure (which may or may not have been more painkillers than a person should take at one time, but worked like a charm)
convinces you that you're not a terrible person and reminds you that your actions are not the sole thing that defines you
shares his own dirt to remind you that you're not the only person who has ever made a bad decision
doesn't judge you or lecture you and won't reveal your secrets to anyone else

It's weird how sometimes the people we trust the least end up being the ones we trust the most.

It's Monday.

2007-02-26T20:15:00.000-04:00

Somehow, I've managed to exceed my crisis quota for the week already. The crisis of having too much crisis to deal with escalated to ridiculous proportions when I arrived home and checked my email after not having been online for two hours.

In between email replies, and replies to replies, and experiencing chest pain, I managed to consume half of a tray of seven layer dip. So now I can add to my list of crises (apparently crises is the plural form of crisis - had to look that one up) the fact that I'll probably get sick later on.

Why am I typing this post instead of trying to solve my crises? Because my MSN name says "i can't handle another crisis this week" and my brother just messaged me and said "i'm pregnant". I laughed. The boy knows how to cheer me up.

And now I must pour myself a large glass of Bailey's on the rocks and get back to saving the world (while ignoring the chest pain my mother says probably isn't a heart attack). If you have a crisis this week, don't call me.

Bra Shopping.

2007-02-22T17:51:00.000-04:00

The conversation in the change room:

sales lady: "here dear, this is one of the bras oprah recommends, try this one on"
(i take the bra and put it on)

my mother (who's in the change room across from me): "does it fit?"
me: "it fits."
my mother (who is estatic that i've finally found a bra that fits after about three hours of lingerie stores): "i told you that you'd find one that fit!"
me: "yes, but i feel like i'm wearing body armour. and it costs $145."

mom: "let me see."
me (as i pull the curtain of the change room open): "i'm not getting it."
mom: "what's wrong with it?"
me (turning around to let her see the three massive hooks on the closure at the back): "and what happens when i take some guy home and he has to try to unlock this bank vault on my back?"

the saleslady (who's about 60 years old) laughs uncomfortably and leaves.

mom: "well at least it's an option."
me: "so is plastic surgery."

I did debate getting it. A good bra is hard to find. But I object to wearing something that makes me look like I'm 80 years old. And to paying $145 for a bra.

I think the government should start offering a tax credit to large chested women who are forced to spend absurd amounts of money to keep their hooters from sagging. Or I should at least be able to factor the cost of my lingerie into a student loan application.

ECMAs.

2007-02-19T00:57:00.000-04:00

I'm watching the awards show on TV, thinking I should have stayed in Hali for the weekend to hear some of this music.

Sometimes love ain't enough.

2007-02-13T22:46:00.001-04:00

Our relationship was something out of a movie, but without the happy ending. It was a love at first sight, so-compatible-you-have-to-pinch-yourself-to-make-sure-it's-real kind of relationship. A movie about us, however, would likely leave an audience feeling some great injustice had been done because we don't stay together in the end.

That's how all my friends feel. For no good reason, in the last few weeks, I've been subjected to the "why aren't you two together" and "you two should get back together" type of questions, for which I can't seem to give a satisfactory response.

Because when I try to explain, they don't get it. I tell them I love you, that I trust you and that you never once hurt me. How you get me on a level that no one else does, you make me laugh, and you always show up exactly when I need you. That we can talk for hours without getting bored, that your kiss makes time feel like it's stopped, that when I wake up before you I watch you sleeping and when you wake up before me you do the same. How you accepted me for exactly who I was, how our strengths and weaknesses balanced out, how we fit together in such a ridiculously easy way that it didn't seem real.

And I try to explain that one thing we had in common was our sense of independence. How we both knew we were headed down different paths and neither of us felt the other should have to alter their direction. That we couldn't have the same kind of relationship if we had to be apart. That phone calls don't make up for having someone beside you. That it doesn't make sense to be tied down to someone who's far away when you might meet someone great right where you are. That we both felt if this crazy fairytale type of love was real, if it was supposed to work out in the end, that our paths would cross again and it would.

My friends don't get it. They don't get how I can want to be with you and miss you and still love you and not want to be with you all at the same time. They all think I'm nuts.

So I think I'm going to have to start making up answers that they'll accept with more satisfaction, things like "he hurt me" or "he cheated on me" or "he hit me". Because if I get stared at like I have two heads one more time this week when I try to explain to someone how it's possible to love someone but not want to be with them, I might just start to think it's true. But you and I both know that it's not, that what we're doing right now is for the best, that life is meant to be enjoyed in the present. That both of us still have a lot of living to do before we could make the kind of sacrifice we'd have to make in order to be together.

I love you. I miss you. You're still the standard no one else has been able to meet.

Cell biology.

2007-02-12T20:11:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, Brad took the time to explain to me why I was such a cheap drunk. It has something to do with a mutant cell or something and that my body doesn't process alcohol the way it's supposed to. Instead it processes it through a part of the cell that starts with a "C" (but it's not cytoplasm) which takes a much longer time. The result of this is that I get drunk much faster and stay drunk much longer than most people.

I've decided that whatever part of the cell that processes alcohol is also the same part of the cell that processes cold medication. This would explain why I have been stoned out of my tree all day long, why my arms feel like they're floating and I'm sitting in Evidence class trying not to giggle.

Le sick.

2007-02-11T14:53:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning feeling like absolute crap. I'd had a sore throat all week, which I'd attributed to choking on some very hot peppers earlier in the week, but apparently it was just a sign of an impending attack of the flu. I woke up barely able to breathe, which sucked but wasn't the end of the world. Then the chills started and soon I had a full fledged fever.

Fever and Sheena do not go well together. Having a fever makes me want to sit in a corner and bawl my eyes out for no apparent reason. It also causes me to have the most messed up dreams in the world. On account of feeling like crap and having to write this take home, I decided my best strategy would be to stay at home, finish making notes this morning, take a brief nap, write my essay this afternoon, head to the lib to print it, come home, take another nap, do some editing and sleep for a solid 12 hours.

During my nap, I dreamed about a blue parasite with a tail that was eating my brain. When I woke up, I popped a few pills with the hope that I'd be able to get through this take home in a few hours. Right now, I am sitting in my kitchen, high as a kite on cold medication. My arms feel like they're flying and I'm giggling at the microwave. I have yet to write anything that could be handed in.

This is not good.

Uncomfortable Bedmates.

2007-02-10T16:18:00.000-04:00

The question for the Constitutional take home exam is:

The following comment was given to explain the complicated analysis and
results of case law under s.35: "I think honour, uncertainty and legality make
uncomfortable bedmates". To what extent do you agree/disagree with this
assessment of s.35 case law and why?

Yesterday involved trying to figure out exactly what an answer to this question would look like. After six hours of thinking myself in circles, I needed a break and luckily so did a few other fine folk. After a few drinks, arguments about the tax rates in each of the provinces (can you tell we're law students?) and several freshly baked peanut butter cookies, comments about "uncomfortable bedmates" began to flow.

Some thoughts I might try to slip into my essay:

honour and legality should never have agreed to a thressome with uncertainty
there were three in the bed and legality said "roll over, roll over"
honour, uncertainty and legality should have a pillow fight
if honour and uncertainty were having anal sex in the presence of legality, they were in violation of s.159 of the Criminal Code
perhaps honour, uncertainty and legality should consider investing in a king size mattress

We also managed to decide, during discussion about various "uncomfortable bedmates", that we need shirts that say "law school boys make uncomfortable bedmates".

So far this post is 219 words. If only it were as easy to write 219 words in response to the take home question.

Smack.

2007-02-06T23:24:00.000-04:00

When I was a child, it never really bothered me to be sent to my room for having done something bad. There were plenty of entertaining things in my room (books, stuffed animals, a window, puzzles), the door would usually be closed and since I could hear mom coming down the hall, I always had time to jump back on my bed and pretend I'd be sitting there "thinking about what I'd done".

When mom would finally come to release me from my "prison", all I had to do was give the standard "I now realize what I did was wrong" and I was off scot free. (Though every now and then my indignation over being punished for something I thought was unfair would get the better of me, and when she came to release me I'd talk back and then be left in my room and given more time for "reflection" on what I'd just said.)

Once, as a child, I hit someone. I'm can't remember if it was my sister or my brother, though they're the two most likely candidates. I can't remember why I did it, though I'm sure there was a good reason for it. At any rate, my mother sent me to my room. Only by this time, I think she'd figured out I didn't mind going to my room. So this time, she sent me to my room with a piece of paper and a pen and instructions to make a list of reasons why you shouldn't hit people.

She wanted me to say "you shouldn't hit people because you might hurt them" or "you shouldn't hit people because it's wrong" or anything to the effect of "I realize that hitting people is unacceptable behavior". I sat my precocious little self down on my desk and wrote: you shouldn't hit people because they might hit you back harder.

And when my mother the prison guard came to release me from my cell, I handed her my list, and she gave me a look, and I said, "Well, it's true isn't it?".

The Pass/Fail mentality.

2007-02-06T00:16:00.000-04:00

I came to law school on what could best be described as a whim. I love in Legally Blonde, where the Professor says "Do you think she just woke up one morning and said 'I think I'll go to law school today' ". That's pretty much what I did.

Coming into law school, the majority of my classmates and I had our undergrad transcripts filled with rows of A's. Getting an A- used to be a bad thing. Then we were informed about the mysterious curve which would make it so that the majority of us would end up with a B.

There was more than once last year that I had a conversation with another first year about how Med School was graded on a pass/fail basis and why Law School should be that way too. I mean, we all end up with the same degree in the end. It's not like clients will be demanding to see our transcripts. And sure, some lawyers might be better than others, but I can speak from experience in saying some doctors are better than others.

So then there come the random law school assignments that are actually graded on a pass/fail basis and what happens? A large number of us begin to lack the motivation to put in more work than is required to simply get a pass. Realistically, we all know that unless we hand in a total piece of crap, we're going to end up with a pass anyway. We've already got enough work to do that we'll actually be marked on, why waste time on something that will simply get handed back with "Pass" written on it.

So tonite, when I'm conflicted between perfecting a memo or going to sleep, I'm choosing going to sleep. And I'm friggin glad that all our courses aren't all pass/fail, if only for the reason that it might make me become entirely apathetic.

And there's no sense in listening to arguments about self motivation or being proud of your work. It's not that I lack motivation. It's that I've discovered that balance is more important. Sometimes handing in an assignment you know you would have spent much more time on if you were actually being marked is a better strategy than spending all that extra time perfecting an assignment that you're still only going to get a Pass on anyway, and then staying up till 4am trying to cram in your Constitutional readings.

And maybe next time I go to see the doctor, I'll enquire as to whether or not there are any "Fails" on their transcript.

Superbowl.

2007-02-05T00:23:00.000-04:00

Tonite, I missed it on account of drafting a memo about litigation privilege. It's not like I was overly upset at this, seeing as how I'm not actually a football fan and wouldn't even have been able to tell you what teams were playing.

My love for the Superbowl is more related to the hillarious commercials and the flashy halftime shows. The first Superbowl I ever watched was Superbowl XXX, where Diana Ross performed at half time and as she sang "Take Me Higher" and a helicopter lifted her out of the stadium. I loved it. Then there was the Superbowl where one of the commercials had three monkeys banging on steel drums for the majority of the 30 seconds, and right at the end, the screen went yellow and the words "Well, we just wasted 2 million dollars" were typed out. True advertising genius.

But tonite, invitations to three Superbowl parties, (one where the US channel had been ordered specifically to get the commercials) had to be turned down due to the fact that I got little work done all weekend. The brilliance of this day and age though is that tomorrow when I'm bored I'll be able to view the halftime show and all the commercials on youtube, without ever having to watch a second of football.

Munro Day, in chronological order.

2007-02-03T09:50:00.000-04:00

1100am: arrive home, grab a large glass of water, peel off clothes, take some extra strength advil, climb into bed

1105am: grab laptop to check messages and let the girls know i made it home safe

1106am: phone rings, message kristen and tell her i'm not getting out of bed to pick up the phone if she's the one calling

1107am: cell phone starts ringing, answer it, deal with kristen's annoying questions about the details of my night as spazil messages me and tells me i have to come upstairs, listen to kristen call me a few more names and then hang up on her

1110am: climb out of bed, put on comfy clothes, wash last night's eye makeup off my face, wrap myself in a fuzzy blanket, stumble upstairs and collapse on the girls' couch

1115am: call elyse to get her to come down and explain the details of the previous night to us (she was sober)

1123am: elyse arrives, tells us what she remembers, decide i don't want to hear anymore, laugh at sarah who's freaking out on msn about how the night played out, laugh at the version of the canadian map laura had drawn for the aussie at 3am when she was arguing with him about what would happen if quebec separated

1213pm: head to mcdonalds with the girls, eat greasy food

127pm: sleep.

250pm: my cell rings, it's lindy who can't get ahold of li and needs to tell someone about how her purse got "stolen", tell her about my night, catch up on some gossip

333pm: sleep.

455pm: wrap myself in a fuzzy blanket, go up to the girls' place, curl up on the futon, watch some bad tv, see melissa's dress, snooze

630pm: return home, cook pancakes, eat

723pm: sleep.

830pm: shower, feeling slightly less hungover

900pm: head to the girls' to watch greys, see pictures from last night and watch videos of people karaoke-ing

1124pm: arrive home, climb back into bed, talk to a few people, sleep.

Thank you, Mr. Munro, for giving us a day off. While the majority of my day was spent in bed, I'm most grateful that I did not have to go to class and pretend to take notes.

I'm starting a list.

2007-01-31T23:17:00.000-04:00

Having given my notice to my landlord this morning, where I will be living on May 1st is now up in the air. My blood pressure is already on the rise.

That being said, I've decided to start a list of the reasons I won't miss living with Kristen. And yes, I know, I'm going to miss her once she's gone, but we've still got another three months and that's plenty time to document all her annoying little habits. Tonite's reason I won't miss living with Kristen is........drumroll...........

......because she thinks it's hillarious to steal my cell, call our landline, watch me run around trying to find a phone and then cackle histerically when I pick up. And she thinks it's funny to repeat the same stunt five minutes later.

Where's Winter?

2007-01-31T12:05:00.000-04:00

It's almost February and while it's cold, it's not as cold as it usually is (though people from away talk about how cold it is like we're living at the north pole....but they've probably never felt minus 50 around here). We have no snow.

Global warming is depriving me of my right to snow days, snowball fights and toboganning down Citadel Hill.

Hard to believe that winter was it's normal self just two short years ago, with snow days and power outages and blackouts that lasted for days. Where have all the snowstorms gone? Where are the blizzard warnings and threats of freezing rain?

What's happened to the days where I'd wake up and you couldn't tell where in the driveway the car was, or where the yard ended and the road began, and Coco would have to "swim" through the snow to keep her head above it? Where the neighbors would come skiing down the roads which wouldn't be plowed for another day, we'd act ridiculous because we knew school would be cancelled for the next two days and Mom would make everyone hot chocolate?

Stress.

2007-01-30T23:59:00.000-04:00

Forgive me, while I ramble about some of the things that are stressing me out right now.

Money. That I have and money that I don't have.

School. Hearsay gives me a headache. Constitutional puts me to sleep. I don't have a paper topic.

Next year. What should I do? Go on exchange? If I go on exchange will the forces of the universe unite to make sure that the five remaining courses I need to practice on PEI will all be offered at times that don't conflict during the same semester next year? Do I really want to be away from my friends during our last year of school?

Health. I don't like my current doctor but I don't want to have to detail my medical history to a new one. It turns out that in a lot of cases, prescription drugs are more expensive than their illegal counterparts (not that I know a whole lot about illegal drugs). Three prescriptions that aren't covered so far this year, one serious dent in my bank account. Feels like I'm falling apart and my body has turned against me.

Roof over my head. Right now there is one. Do I give my notice to terminate my lease tomorrow? Do I stay here? Do I move? Do I sign a new lease if I'm considering an exchange?

Friends. How do you choose sides? What do you do when your loyalty is divided? When you know they're only going to end up hurt but that preventing that will only cause them to hurt right now?

Secrets. The things I shouldn't be doing right now. The things I shouldn't have done before that led to this mess. The things I don't want to stop doing.

Time. Too little of it. Too many things to get done. Too many people to see. Too many places to go.

Stress. Stressing about being stressed. Stressing because I'm stressed about being stressed. Knowing it's affecting my judgment and my health and taking up too much of my time.

Sigh.

Playing lawyer.

2007-01-26T23:22:00.000-04:00

Whenever I have to put on a suit, I still feel like I'm a three year old child, going through my mother's closest and playing dress up with my best friend. Despite the fact that the suit jacket no longer hangs down to my knees or that my black pumps actually fit my feet, I still feel like I'm four years old, trying to convince everyone that I'm all grown up.

Last night was my moot, so I put my inner child into my black suit and argued a Charter case before three judges. I must have done something to convince them I was older than I felt, because they ended up siding with my side in the end. After the moot was over, I felt like I aged about twenty years, to my present day self, as I downed a few glasses of wine and headed downtown to party with friends.

Last night, as I was running around, finishing up my oral argument, finding my suit pants in a ball at the bottom of my closest and discovering my printer was out of ink, I was thinking that the moot wasn't really going to be all that different from the four years of juries I was subjected to in undergrad (though for a brief moment, I did consider that playing every Bach fugue from memory might be an easier task than mooting). This morning, I was walking to school with Jen, another former music major and she starts talking about how similar mooting was to jury exams.

In undergrad, I had 15 mins at the end of every semester to convince a panel of professors to give me a mark that would reflect all the work I had done during the preceding four months. In law school, they give us 20 mins. The only difference between the two is the languages they use - music for the first and English for the second. (And, I suppose, the fact that now I have to wear a suit.)

Losing my mind.

2007-01-24T21:57:00.000-04:00

"your msn names have been a little dark lately, i'm starting to get worried about you." - mom

It's definitely an "I hate law school" week. It's definitely an "I hate life" week. It's kind of like everything in the universe conspired to dump everything on my plate during the one week that was already going to be super stressful because it's moot week.

I thought today was going to be better, but before 11am, a number of things had already gone wrong. So with a little assistance, I made an executive decision to skip Constitutional and go shopping instead (which is actually a big decision for me, because if there's one thing I don't do it's skip class).

Since that time I have decided I will spend tonite and tomorrow morning working on my moot and not worry about my Evidence or Constitutional readings. This will give me Friday afternoon to cope with everything else and hopefully by the weekend, sanity will be restored.

I keep thinking about how easy law school would be if life didn't keep getting in the way and complicating things.

Kicked when I'm down.

2007-01-23T23:43:00.000-04:00

I finally got my ass in gear and started working on my moot. I was making good progress. Two hours into it, I accidentally hit the wrong key combination and delete an entire section in One Note.

I hit undo. It doesn't undo.
I find the backup files and start a frantic search. Last back up was four hours ago.
I google backup and recovery for One Note. Google spits out all the things I've already done.

My work is gone. Two hours of my life is wasted.

I've devised a new plan for the moot - stand up, state my name, mumble a few incoherent things about s.8 of the Charter, answer a few questions without referring to my factum, sit down, accept my pass. I no longer give a shit. Not even a little tiny one.

Life kicked me when I was already down and the moot isn't a good enough reason to get back up right now. Do you hear that moot?? YOU AREN'T WORTH IT.

AHHHHHHH!!!!!!

2007-01-22T21:16:00.000-04:00

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just had to get that out.

Kris's Formal

2007-01-20T18:02:00.000-04:00

I got to play hairdresser and make up artist....

Hungover.

2007-01-17T12:15:00.000-04:00

My constitutional prof uses a "modified" socratic method in her class. Basically, if for some reason you weren't able to get the readings done before a particular class or don't want to be called on, you just email her to let her know and when she's randomly picking people to question, she won't choose you.

My head feels like it might explode. My brain is moving at a sluggish pace. I'm sitting here, trying to come up with a good reason to email her and ask to not be called on. Given that I don't know her all that well, the fact that I'm excessively hungover on a Wednesday is not the kind of first impression I'd like to make.

January 15.

2007-01-15T23:54:00.000-04:00

January 15, 2005. I spent the day attending his funeral, hugging friends, crying in disbelief and later that night, celebrating his life with music.

January 15, 2006. I spent the day in shock, after learning she had died of a stroke at the age of 17, at a time when the world was at her fingertips.

January 15, 2007. I sit here, remembering them, remembering that life is a precious gift, and still trying to come to terms with the fact that the world is missing two beautiful people.

It's a New Year.

2007-01-09T00:21:00.000-04:00

I generally think New Year's resolutions are a stupid idea. If you can't initiate change on the other 364 days of the year, you're not likely to get very much done very quickly. But this year, I need the thought of a new year to encourage me to change. I've been looking for a reason, amid all the excuses, to get back to being the person I used to be.

The only things that stick out in my mind about 2006 are the things I shouldn't have done, things I regret doing, things I knew were wrong before I did them. If the psychic had looked into her crystal ball last new years and told me what 2006 would hold for me, I would have dismissed her as crazy. It's funny how a few bad things can consume what might otherwise have been considered a great year.

2007. I'm ready for a fresh start. I'm ready to take control of my life instead of letting it control me. I'm not going to make the same mistakes again.

Girls' Night.

2006-12-29T02:38:00.000-04:00

There has been dinner at the Pilot House. There has been talk of threesomes and foursomes and more-somes. There has been the drawing of penises on the Buddha Board. There has been quantities of wine and alcoholic concoctions which have been consumed. There has been a delicious pizza and garlic fingers delivered by the wonderful Tyler. There has been an explosion in the toilet and now there is toilet water all over the bathroom.

Toilet water is gross. Much like Lindy, I don't deal with toilet water. This is why I am sitting on the couch blogging instead of cleaning up toilet water. Lindy is lying on the floor half passed out as the only experience she ever had with toilets led to "puking in the bushes at Sandspit".

As my mother would say, "sanitize, sanitize, sanitize".

The girls don't own a mop. This should not be as funny as it is. But it kind of is. Or maybe it's just the wine. Or the fact that I'm not ankle deep in toilet water.

Bah humbug.

2006-12-25T00:43:00.000-04:00

I haven't been posting since I got home because of the knowledge that I'd come across sounding more like the Grinch or Scrooge rather than the fat man in the red suit. This holiday is the best of times and the worst of times all wrapped into one.

I found the perfect Christmas gift for Kristen. I'd decided back in August what I wanted to get her and got the name of a jewelery store in the States that would be able to make it for me from a friend. I found out that custom made items take between 2-4 weeks to make and ship, so when I ordered it at the beginning of November, I figured that was plenty of time to get it here for Christmas. Apparently not. Her perfect gift only shipped on the 21st and has yet to arrive. I am sorely disappointed that she will now have to find out what she is getting before she actually gets it, ruining my desire to see surprised look on her face when she opens the box.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Bumble fuck.

2006-12-19T00:45:00.000-04:00

"Everything's a big bumble fuck." - Scott, on criminal procedure.

We have decided bumble fuck will be the phrase of next semester. By April, everyone will be saying it. By 2015, it will be part of the dictionary.

It can be an adjective, a noun or even a verb. One of it's uses will be to described an especially impressive level of drunkeness. (At a Domus where the booze is flowing freely, you might overhear someone saying, "I'm bumble fucked.")

It could also be used with a negative connotation. For example, "I am bumble fucked for this exam."

Of all the luck...

2006-12-18T09:51:00.000-04:00

Refer to my previous post found here. (In particular the last line.)

Now refer to this article which was published on CBC news today. Or if you don't want to click another link, I'll put the first paragraph (the most important part) here:

"Phonebusters is trying to get the word out that a phone call that tells people they've won a holiday, but they need to press nine to collect, is a legitimate offer."

Sigh.

I had tea in my ktichen with Romkey!

2006-12-17T11:40:00.000-04:00

She came to visit Saturday night and we spent a good few hours catching up on the events of the past year, our respective crazy families and our plans for the quickly approaching "real world". She slept over, I made pancakes in the morning and we reminisced about the parties we'd thrown at the White House.

I think the thing I hate the most about growing up is that I only get to see some of my best friends once a year now.

Getting probed.

2006-12-15T23:14:00.000-04:00

There are few situations that make me more uncomfortable than having to lay stark naked on a hard table with my feet in stirrups as a complete stranger probes me with a speculum. I'm laying there trying to think of anything to take my mind off the dreaded PAP test, but all I can think is "I don't know how Mom can stand to have to do this and look at other women's vaginas all day".

Then I start thinking about the PAP horror stories Mom often chooses to tell while I'm trying to eat dinner (which usually result in a complete loss of appetite). Stories that begin with sentences like "You wouldn't believe the prolapsed uterus I saw today..." and "I was probing around and could not for the life of me see the cervix..." and "Today I did a PAP on a sixty year old nun..." and "It was all waxed off, not even a landing strip...". And as I'm thinking this, I'm wondering if my doctor has a daughter who will be subjected to stories about my vagina tonite over dinner.

And then, a totally random thought pops into my head: I wonder if anyone's ever farted in the doctor's face in the middle of a PAP. I start thinking about this just as the doctor removes the speculum. I can feel a strong desire to giggle coming over me, but this is cut short when, with no warning, the doctor shoves her fingers up my hoo-ha to perform the pelvic exam.

The things we have to suffer through as women.

Haikus: A Trilogy.

2006-12-10T00:53:00.000-04:00

In the name of procrastination, while studying at the lib, I wrote several haikus. Why haikus? I don't know. But you'd be surprised by how many people I sent a haiku to on msn wrote back to ask me what a haiku was (no, it is not a legal term). So I've selected some of my more popular haikus and combined them into a haiku trilogy.

A Trilogy: Reflections on Exam Time at Weldon

exams are stupid
my eyelid keeps on twitching
i need to get sleep

family law sucks
i'm never getting married
study, study, ugh.

stay out of my lib
you students not in law school
you don't belong here

(If law school doesn't work out, I could always be a starving poet on the street, right?)

It's SNOWING!!!

2006-12-04T13:16:00.000-04:00

I have just returned from the window where, like a child in elementary school, I jumped up and down and clapped my hands in glee over finally seeing some snow!

The temperature is just borderline to the freezing point and I fear snow will most likely turn to rain again.

[Update: It is now 5:19pm and everything outside is covered by a white blanket. It's still snowing!!]

I'm trying to decide what the best part of tonite was.

2006-12-03T01:35:00.000-04:00

It might have been the little old woman who tried to steal our cab.
It might have been the delicious burger I ate.
It might have been the laughter and conversation with friends.
It might have been the music the band at the restaurant was playing.
It might have been telling the bank story.
I might have been seeing Snow White in the manger scene of a store window.
It might have been laughing about the fact that none of the 7 of us, all halfway through law school, could figure out how to slide forward the seat in the cab.
It might have been the cab driver yelling at us not to touch the door and then us yelling at each other not to touch the door.
It might have been the random conversation that continued over drinks after we got home, while we attempted to study.
It might have been the ridiculous conversation that occurred after we gave up any attempt at studying.
It might have been the night in its entirety.

Friday night described through conversation snippets.

2006-12-02T15:32:00.000-04:00

"what's up?"
"just studying at the lib."
"wanna go get drunk?"
"right now?"
"meh, why not?"
"ok. meet me on the front steps of weldon in five."

"we should get something to eat before the movies."
"let me finish drinking half a bottle of wine first."

"i can't believe this pub doesn't have any good wines or coolers."
"their wings are 89 cents. want to go somewhere else?"
"but we already ordered drinks here"
"we'll chug them and then go find somewhere better to eat."

"oh shit, the movie starts ten minutes earlier than i thought."
"will we be able to make it?"
"yes, and we have time for one more drink."
"i don't think i can handle another drink."
"oh i think you need one more."

"this movie's really good. i want some frozen yogurt or a cheeseburger"
"i think you're drunk."
"don't tell anyone, i'm loaded."

"what'd you think of the movie?"
"my head hurts."

"holy shit, this rain is insane."
"i'm pretty sure this must be a hurricane."
"i'm fucking soaked."

"i think your sweatpants are probably too big for me."
"did you just call me fat?"
"no. i pointed out that you're a few sizes larger than me."

"i'm going to cut your hair."
"no, you're not."
"oh i think i'm going to cut your hair."
"oh i think you're wrong."

"tickle fight!!"
"stop...giggle...tickling...giggle...giggle...me!"
"there's no way you can win this one."

"so did you decide what you're going to do?"
"nope. i know i shouldn't. but i don't know."
"well what do you want?"
"i want him without all the complications."
"but you can't have that."
"i know. but that doesn't mean i don't want it."
"i see."
"how did i get into this mess anyway?"

"i need money for a cab."
"you realize what this is."
"oh no it's not."
"oh i think it is."
"shut up. i don't think i've got change for a five."
"i'm going to tease you about this forever."
"you're not getting change."

The worst thing I could have done right before exams...

2006-12-01T01:57:00.000-04:00

....was to join Facebook.

It surprisingly more complicated to figure out than I had anticipated. I think I've got the gist of it now, but I anticipate a great deal of tomorrow will be wasted adding friends and joining groups, etc. I have a bad feeling that this may cause the already ridiculous amount of time I spend online to increase at an exponential rate.

Blame Chad for this one. And when I fail my exams.

Boo yah.

2006-11-29T02:31:00.000-04:00

What's the sound? Oh that's just me kicking some serious law school ass.

Dear Biz Ass,
You're my bitch.
Love,
The CANning Goddess.

I rock the fucking biscuit. Boo yah!
(Ok, so it's 230am and I may have had a drink...but damn my CANS are pretty!)

And in 7 hours - the last family law class EVER!!!!!!! wooooooooooooot!

I feel exhilirated!

Soup.

2006-11-28T00:08:00.000-04:00

I have decided I will learn to make soup. I can do chopping and I can do boiling, so I should be able to do soup.

This will be my project once exams are done.

Photoshoot.

2006-11-26T21:36:00.000-04:00

"You don't have a boyfriend who's going to come after me for this, do you?"
- the photographer, after telling me to act more saucy with the feather boa.

As I was getting dressed before we got started, I kept thinking about the great Acadia photoshoot. (And once again, when it came time for doing outdoor shots, the wind just wouldn't leave my curls alone. Undesirable hair indeed.)

Miss my Acadia family.

The problem with being a very cheap drunk...

2006-11-25T00:05:00.000-04:00

...is that the tiniest amount of alcohol reduces you to giggles. Which means that if you put a shot of Bailey's in your hot chocolate, by the time you've finished three quarters of the mug, you've got that pleasant, happy feeling radiating from your body and an urge to giggle that can't be stopped. This also means that the Child Support Guidelines which you were attempting to read in your quest to study family law, become hillarious to the point that you can no longer focus on them. And you have to read every sentence you type three times because your typing speed and thinking speed are going at two different speeds.

I think the alcohol bypassed my liver and went straight to my brain. One shot and I'm toast. Seriously, liver. Seriously!?!

At least I'll be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Installing updates and tinkering with templates.

2006-11-23T13:39:00.000-04:00

Every now and then that little bubble pops up on the bottom of my screen and tells me I have updates to install. I generally ignore it for a few weeks (because installing inevitably means restarting and I usually don't want to reboot when I've just finished booting up) but eventually I do get around to installing things. So today I installed some updates, including the new version of Internet Explorer.

So I'm surfing around, testing out this new and improved version of internet surfing and when I log onto my blog, I discover that this new and improved version does not display my template in the way it's supposed to. I've been meaning to fix my template for the past year or so, since realizing it did not display the way I wanted it to in anything but IE version 6. I just never got around to it, cause I was using IE and it displayed fine on my screen. But alas, now it doesn't display fine and I am going to have to fix it. This sucks bum. And is unfortunately going to have to wait until studying is done.

(I can already hear what Curt is going to say to me: Internet Explorer! Who uses Internet Explorer??! Firefox dood! Get Firefox! IE is bad!)

I don't normally drink coffee.

2006-11-22T15:46:00.000-04:00

But there are days when spending $5 on a moccaccino becomes a matter of necessity.