You've got to keep control.*
Sep. 21st, 2008 09:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bending_sickleThis whole weekend's been a bit of a trial, today especially. We're back to the whole avoiding stage of coping, intermixed with some wibble. I was going to work today, but I decided not to wake up at 7:30 am. Then I had a leasurely breakfast for once.
Watched Watching the Detecties (Cillian Murphy, Lucy Liu), which was alright. (I find Cillian too pretty to actually be sexy. Those cheekbones! Those, what, "bee-sting" lips? There are, of course, exceptions to the non-lusting of Cillian. There's 28 Days Later's shirtless and wet guh and Breakfast on Pluto's much too pretty as a girl mnah....)
The rest of the day's been spent doing utter shite, really. I've filled out the claims form for the insurance, advanced somewhat on Favour I'm Doing for Brother, and traded in summer clothes for winter (most of them, at least). Which means that, weather permitting, I'm going to be wearing my new knee-high eggplant socks with my brown skirt and I'm going to feel pretty, damn it. The whole suitcase mess really made me angry and frustrated and sad, because suitcases and I just do not have a good working relationship.
I've also been missing a lot. Missing people, places, things. Missing out. Friday morning, I spent some bored minutes in lecture making a list of all the things I missed from Montreal/Toronto. (Other minutes were spent drawing chibi!Batman folk. A clean version, I will make. Colour it, I will. Post result, will do. *pinky-swears*) The list-making continued this weekend. Thinking like this isn't good for the smiley-face.
A Partial List of Absences:
I miss going to Costco with mom, miss the giant ailes and the giant shopping carts. I miss the streets, miss the tree-lined sidewalks, miss the "Stop/Arret", the bilingual everything, miss the odd Couche Tard and smoked meat deli, miss saying "dep'" and "tuque". I miss maple trees, miss the squirrels (gods do I miss the squirrels), miss the violent change of season, miss knowing exactly what the temperature is, and hearing it on the radio anyway every ten minutes. I miss waking up to Terry, Ted and Thumbs in the Morning and rocking out to George Throughgood on CHOM in the evening, miss Quebec music. I miss the Jewish community. I miss the Fauxburge, the bagels, Monseiur Felix and Mr. Norton, mourning the loss of L'Eqypcian, miss Le Cinema du Parc, even if it's closed now. I miss President's Choice and its frozen raspberry cheesecake, miss seeing Labatt Bleu everywhere, miss milk-inna-bag, miss frozen toastable-waffles. I miss the metro, miss quarters, miss transfer tickets, miss twonies and loonies. I miss the Festival de Niege and its queue de castor and maple-syrup-onna-stick. I miss the snow, the flurries, going downhill on Penfield when everything's covered in ice and not getting killed doing it. I miss Mont Royal, the Montreal skyline, seeing the bridges and not knowing which is which but knowing their names anyway. I miss the train, I miss the sky painted on the cabin ceilings, I miss passing the sugar factory by the railroads knowing that the train's almost at Montreal, I miss the approaching skyline. I miss the Eaton Centre and other malls, I miss hanging out at food courts, I miss the McLennan library and wandering around Redpath. I miss the old port and the biker guy who does tricks in the summer, the violinist who mangles Vivaldi in metrostations. I miss the horse-drawn carriages and how I never got to ride one. I miss the Royal Bank. I miss the Westmount Park and how it always felt like home. I miss walking past our old house and trying to remember what it looked like before we left for Mexico. I miss the pigeon-encrusted statue at Atwater station. I miss being there. I really, really miss it. I may've been wall-kickin' miserable for months there, but I never ever hated being there. I've never loved a place before, childhood yearning for Kenya-related things notwithstanding, but I love that city. Fucking love it. And I fucking miss it so fucking hard.
I went to Wulan's graduation "Yays!" thingy at the bar, and while I was thrilled for her, I got pretty down thinking Wibble!Thoughts. Like, "I wouldn't be able to gather this many friends in one place" and "I never had a post-graduation celebration".
For my BSc graduation, the post-party was simple. Parents took a few pictures then hopped into the car, changing out of my dress in a gas station bathroom on the way back to TO because I had a German exam (the Zertifikat Deutsch) and had been studying for it for weeks instead of daydreaming about impending graduationdom. No presents (apart from a moose plushie mom got me as we were wandering the Eaton Centre). No after party. No huggles from friends.
And I've got a shitty track record of graduations: high school's wasn't much better. My mom had flown over to Greece a week or so prior, to join dad, who'd been living there a year will all our stuff while we stuck it out so's I could finish the IB, living in a furnished apartment in downtown Mexico City. I guess mom flew off because we couldn't afford just hanging out in the apartment waiting for graduation day... I stayed on at her friend's house, whom we met in Montreal and who's husband was, for a short time, in the government as a Minister.** Both parents were really busy, and the kids were wee and self-absorbed, so it was just me and Michael Ondaatje for a few days. The driver was, I remember, really nice to me those days. Little kindnesses, man, that's what makes the world not suck. I had no family representation the day of graduation.
For the graduation party, I went to my friend Avital's house and we got prettified - though in retrospect she fucking layered the makeup on me so much I still cringe, while keeping her own makeup more subtle. Bitter, I am not. Then we and her folks went to the party. I only managed to stay for the dinner - which included cheese-and-grape soup, I kid you not - and all of two or three songs. Why so short? Her grandfather, who'd come with us, was tired so they were all going to leave, and they were my only ride. (What kind of grandfather not only goes to these things but then insists they leave and never come back right when the party's starting?) And then the next day I left to the airport.
Now I'm going to watch TDK. That's right. Because I can.
ETA: Or Disco Pigs. I seem to be on a Cillian roll. Also? House 5x01 made me frickin' cry like a fountain on low pressure. Argh.
ETA2: I also miss reading Montreal's free newspaper Hour every Thursday. I can, and have, read it on the internet, but it's not the same. I so looked forward to a new edition each week :(
Links of the Day:
FOAM - Photography Museum of Amsterdam
Top 5 Scenes That Made Me Obsessed With Cillian Murphy
J.B.Walker's ihatemornings.com songs: 50 Songs, 90 Days Challenge, Turn It Off And Turn It On Again (Ballad Of The I.T. Guy), The Twitter Song
Ben Folds: You Don't Know Me
Cracked: The Insane True Story Behind the Birth of the Internet
Short Film: Laid Off - If you thought life was bollocks, wait till you get a load of death. We follow the recently deceased Martin (1966-2003) as he comes to this conclusion in Zam Salim's thoughtful but stimulating black comedy.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
by_starkiller's TDK Fanfic: The Villain Lives In This One (Batman/Joker)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
pdlf, the fic-only version of capn_mactastic
God Awful Fanfiction: Read them and weep - An archive of woe
* "Turn It Off And Turn It On Again (Ballad Of The I.T. Guy)", Ben Walker
** Yeah, dad's work gets us into these types of circles, not that that does us any good. Still, I remember Kit's face when I told her mom was friends with the wife of an Habsburg. Ah, squee...
Watched Watching the Detecties (Cillian Murphy, Lucy Liu), which was alright. (I find Cillian too pretty to actually be sexy. Those cheekbones! Those, what, "bee-sting" lips? There are, of course, exceptions to the non-lusting of Cillian. There's 28 Days Later's shirtless and wet guh and Breakfast on Pluto's much too pretty as a girl mnah....)
The rest of the day's been spent doing utter shite, really. I've filled out the claims form for the insurance, advanced somewhat on Favour I'm Doing for Brother, and traded in summer clothes for winter (most of them, at least). Which means that, weather permitting, I'm going to be wearing my new knee-high eggplant socks with my brown skirt and I'm going to feel pretty, damn it. The whole suitcase mess really made me angry and frustrated and sad, because suitcases and I just do not have a good working relationship.
I've also been missing a lot. Missing people, places, things. Missing out. Friday morning, I spent some bored minutes in lecture making a list of all the things I missed from Montreal/Toronto. (Other minutes were spent drawing chibi!Batman folk. A clean version, I will make. Colour it, I will. Post result, will do. *pinky-swears*) The list-making continued this weekend. Thinking like this isn't good for the smiley-face.
A Partial List of Absences:
I miss going to Costco with mom, miss the giant ailes and the giant shopping carts. I miss the streets, miss the tree-lined sidewalks, miss the "Stop/Arret", the bilingual everything, miss the odd Couche Tard and smoked meat deli, miss saying "dep'" and "tuque". I miss maple trees, miss the squirrels (gods do I miss the squirrels), miss the violent change of season, miss knowing exactly what the temperature is, and hearing it on the radio anyway every ten minutes. I miss waking up to Terry, Ted and Thumbs in the Morning and rocking out to George Throughgood on CHOM in the evening, miss Quebec music. I miss the Jewish community. I miss the Fauxburge, the bagels, Monseiur Felix and Mr. Norton, mourning the loss of L'Eqypcian, miss Le Cinema du Parc, even if it's closed now. I miss President's Choice and its frozen raspberry cheesecake, miss seeing Labatt Bleu everywhere, miss milk-inna-bag, miss frozen toastable-waffles. I miss the metro, miss quarters, miss transfer tickets, miss twonies and loonies. I miss the Festival de Niege and its queue de castor and maple-syrup-onna-stick. I miss the snow, the flurries, going downhill on Penfield when everything's covered in ice and not getting killed doing it. I miss Mont Royal, the Montreal skyline, seeing the bridges and not knowing which is which but knowing their names anyway. I miss the train, I miss the sky painted on the cabin ceilings, I miss passing the sugar factory by the railroads knowing that the train's almost at Montreal, I miss the approaching skyline. I miss the Eaton Centre and other malls, I miss hanging out at food courts, I miss the McLennan library and wandering around Redpath. I miss the old port and the biker guy who does tricks in the summer, the violinist who mangles Vivaldi in metrostations. I miss the horse-drawn carriages and how I never got to ride one. I miss the Royal Bank. I miss the Westmount Park and how it always felt like home. I miss walking past our old house and trying to remember what it looked like before we left for Mexico. I miss the pigeon-encrusted statue at Atwater station. I miss being there. I really, really miss it. I may've been wall-kickin' miserable for months there, but I never ever hated being there. I've never loved a place before, childhood yearning for Kenya-related things notwithstanding, but I love that city. Fucking love it. And I fucking miss it so fucking hard.
I went to Wulan's graduation "Yays!" thingy at the bar, and while I was thrilled for her, I got pretty down thinking Wibble!Thoughts. Like, "I wouldn't be able to gather this many friends in one place" and "I never had a post-graduation celebration".
For my BSc graduation, the post-party was simple. Parents took a few pictures then hopped into the car, changing out of my dress in a gas station bathroom on the way back to TO because I had a German exam (the Zertifikat Deutsch) and had been studying for it for weeks instead of daydreaming about impending graduationdom. No presents (apart from a moose plushie mom got me as we were wandering the Eaton Centre). No after party. No huggles from friends.
And I've got a shitty track record of graduations: high school's wasn't much better. My mom had flown over to Greece a week or so prior, to join dad, who'd been living there a year will all our stuff while we stuck it out so's I could finish the IB, living in a furnished apartment in downtown Mexico City. I guess mom flew off because we couldn't afford just hanging out in the apartment waiting for graduation day... I stayed on at her friend's house, whom we met in Montreal and who's husband was, for a short time, in the government as a Minister.** Both parents were really busy, and the kids were wee and self-absorbed, so it was just me and Michael Ondaatje for a few days. The driver was, I remember, really nice to me those days. Little kindnesses, man, that's what makes the world not suck. I had no family representation the day of graduation.
For the graduation party, I went to my friend Avital's house and we got prettified - though in retrospect she fucking layered the makeup on me so much I still cringe, while keeping her own makeup more subtle. Bitter, I am not. Then we and her folks went to the party. I only managed to stay for the dinner - which included cheese-and-grape soup, I kid you not - and all of two or three songs. Why so short? Her grandfather, who'd come with us, was tired so they were all going to leave, and they were my only ride. (What kind of grandfather not only goes to these things but then insists they leave and never come back right when the party's starting?) And then the next day I left to the airport.
Now I'm going to watch TDK. That's right. Because I can.
ETA: Or Disco Pigs. I seem to be on a Cillian roll. Also? House 5x01 made me frickin' cry like a fountain on low pressure. Argh.
ETA2: I also miss reading Montreal's free newspaper Hour every Thursday. I can, and have, read it on the internet, but it's not the same. I so looked forward to a new edition each week :(
Links of the Day:
FOAM - Photography Museum of Amsterdam
Top 5 Scenes That Made Me Obsessed With Cillian Murphy
J.B.Walker's ihatemornings.com songs: 50 Songs, 90 Days Challenge, Turn It Off And Turn It On Again (Ballad Of The I.T. Guy), The Twitter Song
Ben Folds: You Don't Know Me
Cracked: The Insane True Story Behind the Birth of the Internet
Short Film: Laid Off - If you thought life was bollocks, wait till you get a load of death. We follow the recently deceased Martin (1966-2003) as he comes to this conclusion in Zam Salim's thoughtful but stimulating black comedy.
by_starkiller's TDK Fanfic: The Villain Lives In This One (Batman/Joker)pdlf, the fic-only version of capn_mactasticGod Awful Fanfiction: Read them and weep - An archive of woe
* "Turn It Off And Turn It On Again (Ballad Of The I.T. Guy)", Ben Walker
** Yeah, dad's work gets us into these types of circles, not that that does us any good. Still, I remember Kit's face when I told her mom was friends with the wife of an Habsburg. Ah, squee...
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no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 07:18 pm (UTC)I miss the nighttime view down McGill College while standing in front of the Arts Building, I miss the tiny Architecture cafe with their Free Trade everything, I miss surviving yet another slide down University to my apartment (it was right in front of the Strathcona Building), I miss the sad decor of the Metro Stations, I miss the Indigo on St. Catherine where I spent many a day reading, I miss the Habs hockey games (yeah I went to those), I too miss Cinema Du Park, I miss the depanneurs, I miss going for pointless walks up and down Sherbrooke, I miss Redpath Library, I miss Leacock lecture hall, I even miss the computer labs in the basement of the Brown Building.
*HUGGS*
And this Cillian Murphy you speak of... I need to look into this guy! <3 yum O.O
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 08:07 pm (UTC)And Cillian Murphy is totally worth checking out. As I've linked, there's a number of his movies on YouTube.
PS: How's school?
no subject
Date: 2008-09-21 11:51 pm (UTC)cinema du parc is not closed
Date: 2008-09-22 02:24 am (UTC)Re: cinema du parc is not closed
Date: 2008-09-22 05:35 am (UTC)(It was closed a few years ago, though. Glad it's back, "new" and all.)
no subject
Date: 2008-09-22 05:38 am (UTC)Aw man, I hear ya. I still freak out sometimes over last year's homeless stretch. *curses the inefficacy of university housing*