::alio!::

cloudy days

Believe it or not, it turns out I have Seasonal Adjustment Disorder. That means when I don't get enough full spectrum light, I get depressed and start to try to hibernate, which explains the constant exhaustion, the avoidance of protein, and the craving for carbs. So I have to get myself a special lightbulb and sit under it for an hour a day when it's not sunny.

And this photo makes me very happy. Check out the other ones, while you're there.

Out.

stupid booboo

Why am I always so bloody tired? Seeing the doctor on Wednesday for my myriad problems.

Here's the latest one, and it's rather lame:

On Friday, I suddenly couldn't walk properly on my left foot. The pain was excruciating. More so than any other injury I've sustained before. I had to walk home on my toes, and even then I nearly died.

Why?

I wore cheap insoles, and there was some kind of support on the opposite side of the arch that shouldn't have been there, thus it bruised that side of my foot or something.

I hobbled around on Friday and Saturday, went skating on Saturday night, and was okay yesterday. Walking to work today, though, kind of messed it up again (no supports, though), so I get the impression I'll be getting a drive to school tomorrow. I couldn't make it that far.

And all because my orthopaedics were faulty. How not cool.

the sweater is begun

My family, friends, and especially my academic colleagues are putting a lot of pressure on me recently, on personal matters connected to my future, and it's rather stressful having to defend not only my academic goals but also my personal ones. Gah. I think it's because, of my colleagues, only one of them is my age (the rest are older) and even she is married, so she's not much help to me. In fact, Nat might have even started it . . . And it all came about because stupid Damon revealed that he's going to be handing out cigars, as he put it, round about the time he exchanges rings, which is very interesting.

I've told him that he can have my sweater experiment (I'm knitting a sweater for the first time, without a pattern, so I want to make sure it works without wasting a lot of wool -- hence, a baby sweater) if it works out.

pursued!

I had a dream last night that I was on a sinking ship and my teeth were cracking and falling out.

In other news, Jason Spezza is stalking me.

I'm serious.

Aside from that incident at the mall, mentioned below, I was forced to eat dinner next to him last night.

Honest.

Chris, Henna, the Pie, and I went for dinner and a movie last night, and we decided to go to Baton Rouge and then see Domino at the AMC. While we were waiting in line for the restaurant (an hour's wait -- it was a busy place) and drinking our beer, who should appear next to us but Mr. Spezza, Brian McGrattan (who, upon further inspection, is the guy I thought was Mezsaros yesterday), and Ray Emery.

The rub was that even though they arrived about half an hour after us, they were seated within ten minutes of arriving. Damned celebrities. Chris jokingly suggested going over to them and giving them a piece of his mind for abusing their power, but upon hearing that McGrattan was an enforcer, Emery used to be a boxer, and even Spezza was pretty quick with his fists (not to mention Chris is all of 5'10" and weighs like 180, tops), he stood down.

When we were finally seated, we got to sit at the table right next to these guys, which was kind of neat. Save that the hostess, when putting down the menus, knocked my full beer out of my hand, which shattered on the table, spewing everyone at my table (save me) with beer. So then I had to change seats and face the players. I was afraid people would think I had done that on purpose so I could stare at them. But I didn't want to sit in beer.

The service at Baton Rouge isn't spectacular. I understand that it was busy, so things were slow, but the servers weren't the most cheerful, and we had to ask twice for a replacement beer and a replacement napkin for me.

The food, on the other hand, was worth its price. I got the babyback pork ribs with mashed potatoes. The meat was so tender that on my first attempt to pull it off the bone with my fork, it flew towards me and went all down my front (thank god for that napkin). Two huge incidents of my clumsiness in front of celebrities and I didn't bat an eyelash. This can't but be a good thing. Man, those were nice ribs. And the mashed potato was incredible, too, all mixed with herbs and grated vegetables.

Not cheap, not fast, but oh so good. I recommend the ribs.

Then we went to see Domino. We were early, and in waiting around ran into a whole bunch of Pie's friends from the Corel Centre.

Domino itself was not what I expected. I don't particularly find Keira Knightly attractive, as I think her square jaw makes her look a little mannish, but when she had short hair in this film, it really worked for her.

Not to mention that the cinematography was beautiful, as was the style. Pie thought it had eau de Tarantino sprayed all over it, but I disagreed. Good film. Especially when they showed the real Domino at the end. Neat stuff.

Aw man, I'm going to the Boston game tonight and I'll bet you five bucks Jason Spezza's going to be there. Maybe I should get a restraining order . . . ;)

better things are out there

I wish it was economically feasible for me to quit my dayjob and just be a TA and an MA student. Alas, while the pay as a TA is rather spiffy, the hours are not, and I don't make half of what I do as a piffling paralegal.

Why these musings? Because I tend to get blamed for Wayner's mistakes. This morning I got yelled at profusely because, on the afternoon I was supposed to have off, I worked through lunch and trudged through the pouring rain to go to the Courthouse and then serve someone at a sketchy hotel. This person was not there, so I had to serve the concierge instead, as per Wayner's instructions.

He was not pleased. He even asked me to spend part of my weekend serving this person again. Which I couldn't do, having disposed of the original Summons and Notice of Garnishment.

When I came in this morning, a whole week after the event, he admonished me for my poor judgment and sloppy administration in not "waiting there until forever," as he put it, to serve this person directly. When I pointed out that, a) she wasn't even there, and b) HE TOLD ME TO SERVE IT TO SOMEONE ELSE IF SHE WASN'T THERE, he deflated somewhat.

Now he's in Court on the same proceeding, and, lo and behold, the lady has not appeared. He called me in high dudgeon (I could tell because he has this inability to say something in just one sentence -- comes out as fifteen) to find out why, and I called her, got the hotel to put me through to her house. She yells at me, says she has no idea what this is about, has no connection to the case whatsoever, and whoever gave me that information has been reprimanded and she is not pleased.

So I've left a message on Wayner's cellphone. What are your bets that he will call me back to blame me for getting the wrong name when he took the call himself?

***

Actually, on the phone with him now. He's swearing about the lady. HAHAHA.

brushes with the rich and famous

Busy past days. Trying to cram in as much time with my "sister" and "nephew" as possible, so the little tyke doesn't forget me. I bought him a tiny replica jersey yesterday at the mall.

And then I saw Jason Spezza.

Had I realized it was him before he walked right past me (I only recognized him because he was in his characteristic blue), I would have stopped him to sign said jersey and perhaps get a photo op with England's youngest Sens fan. Alas, it was not to be. He did, however, grant Arun a distaining "ugh, babies" look, characteristic of 22-year-old males.

Ah well.

Taught my very first class on Tuesday morning.

But no one came.

So I actually taught my very first class this afternoon. I had twenty-five kids. I'm supposed to have ten. Ah well.

That's about it. I'm still exhausted, so much so that I didn't walk either to school or home from school today at all. I think there's probably something wrong with me, so I will actually buckle down and see the doctor. But not for two weeks. I like to save up everything and only see her once a year when I get my physical. And I've already seen her once this year, when I had those weird stomach pains. So I'm already over my quota.

Does that make me an anti-hypochondriac?

In other news, I have realized that it's October and I still haven't uploaded my cousin's wedding photos to Flickr, nor have I done the same with a whole bunch of pictures I've taken with my new digicam. Alas. 'Twill be done as soon as I can hijack Pie's computer for a bit. Promise.

Well, better get back (or start) to work. I arrived just as the boss-man left. This is very good.

the first one

Thought I'd post before going into the office tonight. But Putty's beign really slow, so if there are typos, it's because I didn't have the patience to fix them.

Don't really feel the inclination to post about last night's ga,e/ JB has already done it for me.

Perhaps it was because of the year off and the fact that I've grown as a human being (HAHAHAHA), or perhaps it was due to my total exhaustion, but I didn't really get too excitd about last night's game against Toronto. I haven't watched any of the preseason stuff, and this was my first hockey in over a year. AND IT WAS A TERRIBLE GAME, despite what Jon may say. There was a little bit of a spark in the first period, but at that time I was still trying to figure out who all the numbers belonged to, and calculate all the new rules, so I didn't really catch it. Smolinski's no-goal was kind of a bummer, but they should have asked for a review and they didn't.

Ottawa gave away far too many penalties in that game, especially in the first period. It was quite ridiculous and totally uncalled-for. I liked Neil's little jump, though, when he tried to jump over someone and merely ended up landing on him. And I did enjoy seeing Pat Quinn with a black eye. I'd shoot the puck at him, too, if I had the chance.

Speaking of pucks in the face, sucks to be MAts Sundin at the moment. I bet Wade Redden was congratulating himself on the fact that he'd decided that morning to wear a visor himself. Mats was not so lucky. Considering what happened to him the LAST Time he got hit in the face with a puck, you'd think he would have recondsidered his position.

It wasn't until the third period when Alfie shat in the face of the booing Toronto fans and scored twice to tie the game that Ottawa started to look like their old selves. It didn't help much, however, as they then had to go through overtime and then a shootout to cheat a victory.

Final score: Ottawa 3, Toronto 2.

Entertainment value: two stars.

Game stars: Alvie, obviously, Havlat for his speed, and Spezza for his chances. Hasek just plain sucked, with his juicy rebounds and getting caught out on easy shots. He gets a negative star, and you can't argue me out of it.

two jobs and counting

The only time I'm ever really able to take a breath and pause and post seems to be whenever I'm in the office alone. So there you have it. Work equals peace.

What a busy time for me! I'm constantly exhausted and running everywhere with a headache.

My "nephew" is still in town. What an amiable child! WHAT A TIME WASTER! It's better than TV, watching him and playing with him. And all conversation revolves around him. Today in class we were talking about the evolution and development of consciousness and, of course, babies came up, as we were talking of Piaget. And my mind kept wandering to that little brown baby. Funny boy.

But enough about that self-centered munchkin.

In addition to house guests and work, which is the same as always, school is starting to heat up. I seem to be having lectures to run every week now, ans I spend my free time sleeping and working on those. I even spend my work time working on those, but don't tell the Wayner.

The major cause of my stress recently, however, is the fact that Carleton offered me my long-lamented TAship on Friday. For two years. That's right. Two years, ten or so hours per week, $30 an hour. Except that I am not quitting my current position (I've decided that a doubled income should help me actually SAVE money), I'm still in school, and I've missed out on a month of meetings and workshops that were designed to prepare me for the onslaught of four different groups meeting once every two weeks (I have two classes a week on a two-week cycle, in essence), and full of freaking-out freshmen. I had enough trouble last year. And now I'm trying frantically to do my own readings, plus the month that I've missed of this intro course. I only just got the textbooks today. They weigh a ton. And I don't know when my groups are meeting. Or what the hell I'm supposed to teach them.

So don't talk to me for a while. I need more breathing space.