Christmas

Well, it's been a ride. Family's in and all that, for five days. I've picked up extra shifts and done zero workouts. I'm now in Sudbury, for Invisalign, round number two.

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, can we please talk about the fact that I made pies. Because I'm pretty damn proud of my pies. I made two lemon meringue pies, from scratch, for the very first time in my life, in my wayyy under-stocked grand mother's kitchen, using unfamiliar and old equipement and they turned out pretty rad. Pics or it didn't happen, you say? No problem :)

 This is the dough. I thought I had a picture of it rolled out somewhere but I can't find it anywhere. Which is a shame, because that ball of beige stuff turned out to be a gorgeous, white, thin dough for my pie.

 Here is the first crust, you can see where I messed up and filled it in. I didn't know the sides had to be pinched so it's a little thin on those but I managed to not rip it.

 I ended up not making enough holes in the dough on the side of the plate, so there were air pockets. This is attempt numba one, and the crust is full of air pockets but it was flaky and delicious, so I decided to use it as a shell anyway.

 Here is one pie full (the first one, with the air pockets) of delicious lemon curd (made from scratch, which was a suprisingly entertaining and easy task) and the second attempt. Still some air pockets but I'm starting to get the hang of it.

 Here it is, with meringue. In the confusion of christmas and eighteen eager cooks (I'm barely exaggerating, here) in the the kitchen, it got slightly burnt, but apparently the inside was perfectly gooey and the outside was lightly crisp, so that turned out ok. I'm pretty damn proud of it, and I'm also hoping that it wasn't just beginner's luck. There's only one way to find out (who wants pie? ;) )

I had a bit of dough left over, and a project I saw on Pinterest (praise that site) sprung to mind. I've never done apple pie before and I don't know how to make an apple pie mix so I kind of stuck butter, brown sugar, white sugar and cinnamon in the microwave, took it out and rolled my apple slices in there, lined my apple with crust, put the apples in, and topped it with more dough (as seen above) and ovenned it. It was disgusting. But then again, I don't like apple pie. and I also improvised. So there you have it.

Peace out my friends, as I am about to go see The Hobbit; Part 2, (which I will then write a rant and review about, don't you worry your pretty little minds) and I can't wait.

Veronik

Pre-Christmas

So many things have happened since my last post. For one, I went back to Sudbury, which was a twelve hour long journey (I wrote a post about it on the bus, that I will maybe post later on) and three days of whirlwind-like coffee dates, sushi dates, tim-bit dates, study dates and phone dates, as long as trying to cram as much study time (study dates, you see, do not count as studying, because even though your books are open in front of you, you'll be damned if you can't beat that level in candy crush for your study partner) as I could, since it was the weekend before finals. Of course, that wasn't my best move, and I did pay the price for it when I was forced to cancel a movie with my group of best friends when I realized I wasn't going to be able to tackle three chapters of bio on two hours of sleep (I need a minimum of four per night if I want to stay semi-fonctional). At this point, my body had already slipped into zombie mode, where even though I was running on three hours of sleep, I was still able to appear like I was doing useful things, but when my friends texted me that there had been a mix up and that, long story short, I'd be getting home around 1 am, I was absolutely unable to face it and canceled the whole thing. My best friend, Sarah, joined me for the afore-mentioned timbit date, and stayed until 11 pm while the rest of the crew followed the original plan and caught the movie before presenting Jen with her birthday gift. Said birthday gift was tickets to Hedley, and I gave money to Sarah so that she could pass it on to Kelsey, who had bought the gift. Later, I learned that there had been a definitive cold  (definitely a frenchisism here) that passed between the girls, and it had nothing to do with December weather. I'm supposed to be going back to Sudbury for Invisalign, round two, in late December, so I'll see if I can fix it since I won't have the stress of exams pressing down on my shoulders.

Speaking of, I've apparently survived my first final exams in university, although half my hair and my dignity haven't. I have seriously thought of dropping out of school, and at least 1/8th of the time I had to be studying for chemistry was used for considering serious options that had nothing to do with school. Free lance writing, for example. And then I remembered most of my hits were 140 characters long and I dropped that idea.
My grades, honestly, aren't the best, and I am thinking of taking that semester again, but we'll see what the school tells me after I finish this one, where I intend to bust my ass, even if it kills me. Hopefully it gives me better results, as I have a calculus class, physics, organic chemistry and evolutionnary biology, which is far from a walk in the park.

I've been unaccustomly quiet on social medias lately, and by lately, I mean after exams, where every fifteen minutes, my followers could read a short, but not sweet message about school. I managed to keep my frustration down and not set half the campus on fire through panicked texts to Dee, always there to tell me to shut up and study (what would I do without her), and frustrated tweets. Thankfully, my facebook friends did not have to suffer through this with me, because Dee had switched my password, effectively stopping me from using facebook as a procrastinating device.
Since, in my genius stupidity, I've managed to trick Google Nanny into letting me see my Procrastinating Sites (herefore called PSs), I've also blocked them. Definitively. No time slots, no timer, nothing. I'm not sure how many of you use it, but if you do, you know how much of a pain it is to change it back and I have therefore not been on my PSs since the beginning of my exams, even though I finished four days ago. So far, I've cleaned the house (who really needed it), did the laundry and somewhat regulated my eating schedule (Friday, the day of my last exam, I had a bagel, officially the first non-caffeinated thing I'd had in four days in a row). I've also started the huge stack of books that I had been longingly drooling over for four months now and I've just returned from an exam jury, signifying my semester is officially done and over with. I've been picking up extra shifts while I can, though, so I'm not exactly on vacation. I also have to find myself a dentist and a doctor in Montreal, so I definitely won't be sitting by the fireplace this winter. 

However, I leave you before I write an entire novel, but I'm sure I'll be back with more adventures as Christmas with the family starts (I intend to be at the gym most of the time) and also when my new semester starts. 

FIrst Big Girl's Night Out

So I should really be at my math class or at least typing my summary that's due for tomorrow, but I figure my blog's for milestones, and as milestones come, my first pub experience is a not too shabby story.

My friend is very emerged in the music world, and she's set up a charity concert, where french artists  each did a couple songs. She'd met Ariane Laniel, one of the singers for the group "Aucun Regret" on MixMania. (for reference, does anyone remember the song "Tu t'en vas" ?)
Anyway, Meev got invited to her start up concert, and she brought us along. It was in a pub, and I guess event and all, we didn't get carded. I had my first Sex on the beach, and then we shared a pitcher of sangria, so I was buzzed, but I could still walk in my ridiculously high high heels. (I was almost 6'2 with them on)

My friend's boyfriend offered to give us a ride back to Meev's place, where I would take the metro, so as we were waiting outside we decided to take pictures to commemorate (because we're the picture type). Obviously, as it was downtown Montreal, people were passing by, and because Meev insisted it was a "full body picture", the guy that was nice enough to take a picture with her phone and not run away with it had to stand quite far, meaning that we had an almost constant stream of people passing through. He ended up taking like eight pictures though, with one random guy standing beside me and posing with us, before wishing us a good night and strolling off, ajusting his mitts as he went.

We also somehow managed to convince one guy that had stopped to talk to us that I was an 18 year-old Victoria Secret model and that the girl that passed by and commented on my heels was a colleague of mine.

Meev was nice enough to escort me to the metro (I think she was scared I wouldn't find it. Or get raped or something, as that night she had given the meanest stink eye to some old guy that had apparently looked at me like meat - which I didn't see, but I did get to watch Meev as she stared him down with daggers, which prompted a defensive gesture from him.) where I waited for my transfer on doubtful benches beside a guy playing guitar too loud. I still sang along softly with him, though, the night floating in my head like a memory and alcohol gently tingling through my veins. He eventually let me play his guitar and as I played Skinny Love on untuned strings, I remember him laughing at something that eluded me. On the metro some guy was promoting his new rap album, trying to get started on something. I turned out to be a violonist that loved classical music, getting off at the next stop. I missed my bus by four minutes and had to wait 18 minutes for the next one. As I stomped in my sneakers and skirt, people around me strolled, coming back from God knows where on a Wednesday night, some clearly from a bar, but some were harder to guess. A mother and her friend and her daughter, the daughter slumbering in the cold night, her sleeping breath rising in the lamp posts, or two elder men, reminiscing on something I wasn't even born to not witness. Sitting on the bus, I felt more buzzed than I should have, the small amount of alcohol clearly now distilled in my blood, but tiredness taking over.

I got home, kicking off my sneakers, pulling down my skirt and clearing my head just long enough to let my grand-parents know I was home. Then I went to bed, and as my alarm was in the living room, didn't set it. I woke up at 7 o'clock, with plenty of time to get ready for my 10 o'clock math class, but decided against it and went back to bed.

I must now write a summary for my 8 am class tomorrow, but I shall first play guitar.

Until next time,
Vero.

I'm 98% sure writing this post means I'm crazy.

So I'm really bad at keeping pets. Fish, at least. So I befriended this little spider that lives in the left corner, right beside my door.
To be honest, she's not little. She's kind of big. She's also not a she. When I talk about her, I use the female genre, probably because in French, it's that way, but part of me cringes and keeps saying it's a he.
And she has a name. It's not a human name, though. It's the kind of name that you can only have if you have eight legs and as many eyes. And a striped body. Whenever I'm done locking my door, I look up, just to see if she's there, and for at least a second, I smile and my whole brain is entirely focused on this little living thing. "Hey, H_____". Her name's a sound, and as far as I can tell, it's starts with an H. But don't ask me to pronounce it. It's not a pronounceable name.
She's so little though, that even though I'm entirely fascinated by her for a split second every morning, only a part of me react to her. Little tinges of thrills in parts of my brain and in my stomach whenever I see her.
She's the reboot to my day, my little part of my routine. My little "good morning, sunshine". Which is why I panic when she's not there. The first time it happened, I was actually surprisingly depressed for the whole day. When I got home, she was sitting there, as smugly as a spider can sit when she has no idea of the effect she has on the world... or at least on part of the world. The thrill of joy my tired brain felt was overwhelming, and actually quite concerning. She's disappeared and reappeared quite a bit, always when cold or windy or rainy weather hits. She usually turns up after a couple of days, though. I like to think of her crouched in my wall, keeping watch on my door. For some reason, I think she's a better watch dog than what I previously had, a large, but stupid royal poodle.

This morning, it was gorgeous out. Humid, sunny, warm. I checked to see if she was there. She wasn't. When I went out again this afternoon, she was there, sitting in the middle of her web, one loose strand hanging low, holding on to a leaf that was unexplainably still green. The leaf was steadily going up, and I realized she was packing up. I didn't understand why. It was amazing outside. Perfect spider weather.

Not two hours later, strong winds hit Quebec. Isn't she wonderful. 

Internet Trolls: A rant

The Internet is a wonderful thing. Honestly. I love it. I spend most of my time on it, actually, probably more than my basic needs - sleeping, eating and reproducing (That was a biology joke. I'm sorry. I'll stop now.) But honestly. Need a tutor? Wolfram. Need an actual tutor? Kijiji. Need a friend? Penpalworld. Need an actual friend? Urm... Facebook. (Maybe I got those two mixed up, seeing as I keep way too many people as friends so I can laugh at their pictures for me to not be a bitch.) Procrastinating? Yeah, we can help you with that. Ranting? Blogspot, twitter, tumblr, facebook statuses... must I go on?

Now that that point's been made, I can go on to speaking about imgur.com, a wonderful site filled with wonderful and supportive people.

Do you feel like your talent as an artist is underrated? Imgur will love your work.
Are you feeling down, needing to let off some steam because you just discovered you had some terminal disease or you just lost a loved one? Imgur will be there for you.
Do you have a horrible confession, which, if people base their judgement of you purely on that one fact in your private life, will think you are actually a terrible person that does not deserve to have access to oxygen? Imgur will praise you for correctly using the Confession Bear meme.

Do you want to show off your new haircut, nose ring, facial tattoo, cat sleeping on your shoulder, awesome scenery from a place you just visited, or anything that has to do with yourself being in a picture? Aw Hell, naw. Selfies are not allowed on here, my friend. Neither are life hacks.

And it's not just imgur. It's every site. Every site has a community, granted. And in every society, there are rules, granted. But honestly? What if I just want to enjoy my new knowledge regarding the fact that if you make a well in the middle of your food, it will heat up more evenly in the microwave (true story, try it out)? And as someone that is desperately trying to learn to live independently (there's a whole other story attached to that), I enjoy the apartment living hacks. So no. If other people enjoy posting selfies of them doing awesome things, downvote them if you must, but keep your snarky little comments to yourself. Same goes with life hacks. I don't care how much you hate wasting your time on these things, because you don't care how much I love to do so.

There is much too much hate in this world, and 80% of it is found on youtube. 7% is found on the rest of the Internet. The rest is the real world, we're still working on that.

Peace out,
Vero

PS: Has anyone really used “peace out” since, like, 2008? 

Happy moment of the day: My phone is kind of old, so the autocorrect does not know the words "twerking" or "instagram". According to my phone, I can "drop out of school and Trek my way to fame, or maybe use Underarm to pretend I'm a famous photographer." Which is an alternative my dignity likes a lot more. 

This post lacks an introduction

The problem is that movies are delusional. and it's not even the Disney phenomenon, either. There are thousands - no, hundreds of thousands - of real life boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl scenarios. That is not the issue. Here's the issue, and it hit me as I was thinking of Pitch Perfect.

The problem with movies is not that there are not enough strong woman, or that they teach women that they need a full armour to be brave and strong, or even about the Bechdel test.

It's not about instant gratification, or trying to find some guy as good-looking AND as thoughtful AND as smart AND as balanced as all the heros in the movies, it's about the fact that in every movie, the hero or heroin encounters a problem, suggests something, which is rejected by the vast majority, leaves in a fit of fury and/or sadness and/or loneliness or is chased in a fit of fury and/or rage and/or jealousy, and then is begged to come back, and gracefully does so at the condition that everything goes their way, at which point the original suggestion turns out to be a fantastic idea and everyone acclaims him/her.

And what have we learned? We learned that in order to be appreciated we must be needed beyond pride. 

I've realized that is what I've been waiting for. I've been waiting for someone to "love" me enough to need me instead of only enjoying time with me. Until now and probably for at least the near future, I've been under the impression that in order to be happy with someone, I need them to love me more than they love themselves, which, let's be honest here, is really, really conceited. 

So here's to getting over myself, dropping the movie ideas and finding someone I appreciate spending time with. And if he enjoys spending time with me, I'm good. And if it doesn't work out and he shrugs and decides it was for the best, than it was. And I'm going to be cool with that.

PS: anyone ever realize how Jesse just forgives Becca for being a total conceited, cold bitch as soon as she starts singing that song about someone going dancing with her if she asked him to? Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's unrealistic. And I thought Skylar Astin was really cute and sweet until he played a character that lacked, um, balls. (I actually had to IMDb those names, because in my head she's the "hot chick with a creepy smile and too many teeth" and he's the "weirdly cute guy that... oh wait isn't attractive anymore, since he can't hold a grudge".)

Hypocritical demands: a rant

Last year, when I was in Florida, I went through the trouble of spending hours finding the perfect iPod dock for one of my best friends, browsing e-bay and kijiji for hours, sending hundreds (quite literally) of facebook messages to my friends stuck in school, trying to figure out how we were going to get the iPod dock to her place on time. Eventually, we got it delivered.

I was glad to do it. I was glad to spend that much money and time and effort, because it was her eighteenth birthday, and she's one of my closest friends, and I love her very much.
So when she announced she was not getting any gifts for us when we turned eighteen (seventeen in my case), it was a little bit of a shock. But she explained she thought that we were getting older, and gifts were trivial to our friendship, and with university looming ahead of us, it was expensive. And after I pondered the question and made up a bunch of excuses as to why she couldn't make anything to prove that she thought of her best friends and her family on their special day (writing a personal message on a card takes time and thought, guys. Common.), I got over it. Even though she works two jobs. Even though she lives at home, has free school and can afford a boyfriend, but not $20 for her friends, once a year. But she had a point, and I nodded thoughtfully, decided it was her decision, and glad she was my friend, continued with my life, having soothed the subtle wave of indignation that had rippled through my ego.

And then, a couple weeks later, as we (well, I wasn't present, but my group of friends was, and clearly we're linked through some sort of supernatural liaison. Clearly.) were browsing Chapters, she dropped: "If you guys don't get this for me, I will be so mad." (This may be slightly unfair to her, as I am paraphrasing a paraphrase, but I'm sure the intention didn't get lost in the translation. Which is why I won't develop on the "mad", and say that a gift is not a due, but a token of appreciation, and that if I decide it reminds me of you and I can afford it, I will be thankful for the suggestion, but otherwise shut up and be thankful for whatever token of thoughtfulness I decided to get you. But I won't develop on that.). Which, in all honesty, when I heard about it, made my jaw drop. I'm pretty sure I literally forgot my mouth was capable of keeping itself shut and I stood in the middle of my grand-mother's kitchen, holding a banana in one hand, the phone pressed to my ear in the other and my mouth hanging open for a full thirty seconds, unable to actually form a coherent thought.

Which may seem like an over dramatic reaction, but it seemed like the reasonable thing to do. To top it off, when I finally remembered I was capable of not looking like an idiot, I asked for the rest of the story: After my friend Sarah reminded her of her little idea regarding birthday gifts, said friend responded with "but nineteenth birthdays are so much more important than eighteenth birthdays."

Really, chiquita? Well, I'm not expecting much for my next birthday, which is when I will be able to drink, legally have sex and also vote, three things who's outcomes may very well change the history of this country, depending on how seriously I take them, I will not be expecting much from you. But the second I hit my nineteenth birthday, there better be confettis and cupcakes, child. (and people call me high maintenance. *snort*).

xoxo,
     ~Vero

PS: Shout out to Dee who I was telling this story about, and not being able to take out all my frustration out that way, prompted the idea of this post. Also, if I seem distracted, it's because my phone didn't stop ringing. Thanks for the med-provoqued comments Dee, they were super entertaining. Keep it up. and get well soon. mouah.

Screwed

I  do reread my posts once in a while to check on my writing style progress (I'm seeing ups and downs, as opposed to constant improvement, which is slightly worrying, but at least I'm writing), and if future me is reading this right now, here's a message: Yeah, don't procrastinate. And facebook? yeah, not after nine o'clock, young lady. Chrome Nanny to the rescue.

No but seriously. I have been going to bed wayy to late lately and getting up too early. I worked at six thirty this morning, and contrary to Tutti Frutti, I can't just throw my hair in a hat and skip on the makeup. I actually have to take a shower and look mildly good, so I set my alarm for five fifteen. And went to bed at midnight. Of course, anxiety got the best of me and I kept waking up every thirty minute or so to check I had indeed set my alarm. and when it finally DID go off, I didn't feel like getting up anymore. So I chugged my Timmies extra large french vanilla (so much calories, so many yums, wow. (Any Internet person will hopefully get the subtle reference) ), felt faint because it made my body temperature sky rocket, and carried on with my life. After work I was supposed to go home, grab a snack and make my way to school, but karaoke got the best of me and I only got to school at 2:30. I then proceeded to open my math book and try some examples (I have tutoring at 4), but I realized I have 100% forgotten how to do basic math. Well, basic linear algebra, so finding a matrixes inverse and what not.  I have therefore canceled my tutoring session because it would be useless as I'm absorbing zero info, and will carry on, hopefully getting the bulk of my bio done (I'm done listening to my first class, which was a big step. Now to recopy the rest of my notes and understand them. I have three classes left, so nine hours of bio to catch up on, plus I missed the last hour due to my french test) tonight as to be able to finish it tomorrow and get the bulk of chemistry done. Because here's the thing: I have an exam in less than nine days and I've done zero examples. and memorized about the same amount of formulas. and understand about 4% of the matter. soooo. Then, I will move on to math, because I have another exam in T-minus 23 days (didn't I JUST write one of those?), but first, I'll write a "legal" cheat sheet for my methodologie class (that  class is a joke, honestly) because I have an exam in 11 days.

I was planning on going to Sudbury to surprise my friends but for a trip that will let me be in Sudbury for less than 48 hours and probably suck the life and most of my studying time out of my schedule, I'd rather not spend $150. So I'll postpone that to later on. But I was really looking forward to seeing my dog :(

Anyway, I better get to bio if I plan on sleeping tonight. Ciaoo.

Joys of Unilife - Seen on the metro

Dearest readers,

I must confess I am in the library typing this thirty minutes before my math class, because I... well, I got tired of facebook, to be honest. I have  a french test that will determine whether or not I will have to take a french class next semester, so I'm really supposed to be studying my french syntax, but really, no.

Also, my math tutor has not answered me yet, even though I asked him to give me a date sometime this week, which is mildly stressful. Maybe he got tired of me. I don't even know.

Meanwhile, I still haven't found the time or the energy to catch up on my bio classes, which are actually slightly more challenging than I was expecting, but mostly because half my class are doctors from other countries, and they have to retake their courses, but they already learned all this. I met a guy from Ottawa, who wants to be a veterinary (what an odd word, don't you think?), and is therefore absolutely genius and I just can't handle him passing everything with flying colors. But he's really nice (slightly awkward, but you know.) and his name is completely pas rapport with the fact that he's ontarian and was born in the late 1990s, and I find that amusing, so I keep talking to him.

I've managed to already attract at least two creeps (successfully blocked from facebook, but not from my campus, where suddenly they seem to appear everywhere and awkward eye contact ensues), but thankfully the number of decent people I've met is higher.

Anyway, I must fly to my next math class, which is a losing battle. Seriously, I can keep up for the first thirty minutes, and then everything just kind of disintegrates and my mind feels like it's been put in a blender. Speaking of, I'm thinking of buying myself a vitamix and I really really really can't wait :D

As promised in the title, here is your seen on the metro: Two guys were offering each other a standing place, gesturing to it over and over until they both walked off and stood somewhere else. Oh, Canada.

Edit: I did think of taking the place while they were arguing over who was going to take it, but then I remembered I'm Canadian, apologized and went and stood somewhere else, effectively taking a completely theoretical and imaginary person's place, which made me feel very uncomfortable and guilty for the rest of the ride. 

My view on slut-shaming.

Ok, here it is.
I do have a few feminist friends, and while I am not one by a far stretch myself, I couldn't help but notice a new trend that they seem to be fighting: slut-shaming.
Let me just start off by saying I am aware that society is evolving. I am proud of this. While I am not gay myself, I do support them, because I know that love is a basic need and that it is not a choice. I will not go so far as to say that I understand it, the same way I don't understand why some people don't like chocolate, but I can grasp that they are different and that's ok.
I am for diverse religions, because I understand that  believing in a higher power, whether it be a god or a science, is a basic instinct in humans, especially since it naturally builds communities. I am completely tolerant of other races, since it is not a choice, and also I think food from other countries is freaking delicious. I am far from stereotyping others (although I do argue against the people who think there shouldn't be any, because, hello, these stereotypes come from somewhere.*)

This being said, I do draw a line at slut-shaming.
Just bear with me here.
We judge. Don't pretend you don't because you do, absolutely unconsciously. And that's ok. It's our first line of defence as humans living in a society. You make choices based on other people, probably more often than you think. I don't dye my hair pink, because I don't want to project that image. I don't wear heavy makeup, because I don't want to associate myself with that kind of idea.  I don't wear much jewelry, because I don't want people to think I'm that kind of person. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Each thing I said made that idea pop into your head, whether you approved of that type of person or not, whether you would affiliate yourself with that type of person or not. There are a million other things I don't do, or I do do, so that when people see me, they think a certain way about me. And so do you. Which is where slut-shaming comes into play.

Slut-shaming is not a thing. I'm sorry, it's not. The way a girl dresses is entirely her choice... Much not the same as culture, skin colour, beliefs, values and sexual orientation. Same with guys, actually. If a guy with a gorgeous body is prancing around in nothing but underwear, I'm sorry, I will gawk. And most probably drool. Which is exactly what he wanted, because or else he would have put a shirt on. Now re-read that sentence, but switch out "guy" with "girl". Here, I'll do it for you. If a girl with a gorgeous body is prancing around in nothing but underwear, I'm sorry, I will gawk. Ahh. Did anything change? Is it less disrespectful of an individual's body and intimacy?
To the people saying "Stop the 'slut-shaming'", I say: You are right, it is her choice. You are right, she does have the right to dress the way she wants, especially in a diplomatic society and a free country.  You are right, just because she's dressed like that does not mean she should be a victim of rape (seriously, guys, keep it in your pants. It's a serious issue). However, you are wrong. She will project that image of herself, she wants to project that image of herself. She wants to seem approachable, sexy, (dare I say it?) easy, ect. and she will. Because we've been taught that lingerie is for the bedroom, and if you bring that out in public, people will picture you in the bedroom. So get over yourself. People judge, it's good. If you don't think the way they judge you is good, then it's your problem, do something about it.


*Smart-ass comment: As a blonde, I would like to introduce the fact that blondes have more sulfur (which is why their hair is that color), which promotes creativity. The right side of the brain being more stimulated than the left side, it is said that blondes are "dumb", as logic is not their strong suit. Perfect example of a stereotype: Not necessarily true, but supported.


TL;DR: Stop being so over-sensitive when you wear something provocative. No, you can't demand the right to be respected if you don't respect yourself. 

Scary big town

I'm sorry I haven't written in a while, nothing really interesting happened and this blog was starting to look like my diary.

So I did start my job, and everything is going rather smoothly, and I'm 8 days away from my first  exam, which is really, really, really nerve racking, because it's a math exam and it's, um, less than 194 hours away (I'm really hoping I got this right, because or else I'm doomed). I'm not even sure how he'll fill in two hours and fifty minutes of material on the exam, because we've only been in school for three weeks at this point.

Which brings me to the next point. Last thursday, I may or may not have walked out of class early, despite telling myself not to (But really we were just doing chem problems and the questions were getting kind of stupid), but don't you worry, it came back to bite me in the butt pretty hard. A guy walked out at the same time as me, and we started talking. On the metro, he asked me for my number, but I told him that I didn't know it by heart and let him put his in my phone - that way, he could only get my number if I texted him... ya dig?
Anyway, an hour later he'd managed to find me on the school site using only my nickname (which, to be fair, is not a stretch from my first name), send me an e-mail to my private address saying we should "meet up and discuss" and add me on facebook. Also, his facebook name wasn't the same he'd given me on the metro.
I think for the first time in my life I actually lost it. I was hyperventilating and crying by the time I called my friend, who did a wonderful job calming me down (so if she's reading this right now, thanks for that, K).
I did try to switch classes, but I couldn't for technical reasons, so yesterday when I ran into him as I walked into class (of course, I'd never seen this guy before and now he's everywhere), I completely ignored him. Same with when he sat down beside me.
Oh, and he talks to himself while he does chemistry. If I hadn't been so creeped out, I would have threatened to shove a pen down his throat if he didn't stop. Kiddiiiiing!

I also asked a question about a bio class on the forum (du genre: "Hey, I wasn't there for the first fifteen minutes, I can't find which powerpoint slide the teacher started with, can someone recap?"), which prompted a response, but also a friend request by a ex-moroccian-doctor that doesn't understand that I in fact do understand biology, and no, I really don't want to "meet up and work on it together." (I'm paraphrasing and translating, but no worries, there is no loss in translation issues here. This is actually happening.)

So far, the most interesting moment of my day is still taking the metro, where everything I can't imagine has happened, including some old drunk dude offering me beer and sign languaging something about an arrow and a thumbs up to me.

I did make a few new friends (My age, or almost, thankfully), so that is pretty exciting, seeing as I definitely thought I'd be the hermit type of student.

Anyway, my thirty minutes of grace is up (I went to bed at 1:30 after finishing a couple things, and set my alarm at 6:15 before realising I only had to be out the door at 7:30 after all. I then decided if I went back to bed, I would die and never get up again.), so I shall be going.

Until next time!
     ~Vero

Oppa Campus Style

I'm sorry for the title, it sounded better in my head.

Walking on campus, I saw a girl set up her portable hammock (I'm guessing all hammocks are portable, though?)  between two trees and then lie down in it and read a book. Which basically seems like the best idea ever. I might have to invest in one of those.

I also met my fourth and final teacher, who is the type to make up play ice breaker games and talks about her husband all the time. And who also drops statements like "I am feminist, so, no, I don't wear a bra." out of nowhere, in the middle of her lecture. I don't know, I think I'm scarred, and I'm a woman, I wish I'd seen the face of the guy sitting in front of me.
I also met (during an ice-breaker game, of course) a girl that comes from Ontario, who wants to end up in either forensics or genetics and who sings. Like, another girl, not me. What. Are. The. Odds. (ok, I promise it's the last time I write like that, but I just really had to prove how flabbergasted I was and that seemed like the best option). But honestly, I'm pretty amazed by this, and she seems really nice, so hopefully we'll get along.

I've decided not to drop my math class and to get myself a tutor (I've also resigned to the fact that I'll be seeing a lot of my math teacher, if he accepts to help me after class. I've started to warm to him, but only because he does an awkward little dance whenever he erases the blackboard and I think it's adorable), which means I'm going to need that job. Which brings me to my next adventure.

I need to take a french test in order to prove that my french is good enough to study at UdeM. Which I, while being somewhat nervous about it, don't mind, but then they send me another e-mail saying the time is switched to 2 pm, today. Today, at 1pm, my training starts. After numerous e-mails and calls (none of which they answered to), I finally call the university directly, and they transfer me to the center, where they inform me that without a death or a medical reason, I can't switch it. After some bargaining, the girl finally gives me another date. Thank God.

I also saw a guy in a full tiger suit, tail and all casually strolling getting off the metro and strolling to class, head phones and everything. Swag.

School and adulting

I was going to write adultery in the title, but that's a completely different thing.

So school started three days ago (as opposed to Ontario, who started yesterday), and I'm already falling into the routine of school, which is awesome, but work proves to be a hassle, and it hasn't even started yet.

I've met two people so far, one my age and one a little bit older, so I don't think I'll be great friends with the second one (Let's call her Mel for now), but she's in both my chem and my bio class, so at least I'll have someone to copy notes off if I'm not there.

The first one (Let's call him E-man in honour of Dee, who came up with the nickname) is a little bit more interesting, probably because he's male and my age and really nice.

A part from that, I hate my math class so I'm dropping it, am loving my chem class (great teacher, great group of people) and absolutely adore my bio class. My teacher is 64, retireing in 10 months and absolutely doesn't give a shit about anything. And yet he's awesome: He's passionate about biology, loves photography (like moi!) and has the best sayings (I'll be posting some on the blog whenever I remember them.).

I'm typing this in math class as we wait for the teacher whom I loathe, but class is about to start, so I'll let you go.

Until next time,

~Vero.

Best of luck

If I were able to tell stories, I would honestly be a hit at parties. No, really.
The best (or worst, depending on the point of view) things happen to me all the time. Like that time I was skiing and there was a fence and I didn't stop and made a gigantic hole in a wooden fence. Right after sliding in a bamboo stick and literally making it explode it the run before. (Yeah, the second ski trip wasn't a good idea.)
Anyway, today I received an e-mail saying that there was a session d'acceuil at the University at 1:30. I got the e-mail at 12:10, and it takes about 45 minutes to get there, if I find the place right away. You do the math. There was no problem, except for the fact that I was supposed to call my boss at around 1ish to talk to him about my work schedule. Being me, I took a while to make a decision and at around 12:40, I called him up and made a raincheck. I was going to be cutting it short, but it was ok. Then, I couldn't find my bag. In a fit of frenzy, I shoved everything I might need in another one, and ran out the door.

As I was speed-walking down my street (I knew I had about 5 minutes before the next bus, as I take this bus almost every day.), to my surprise, I saw my bus pull up. I booked it, crossed the road, almost got hit, thanked the bus driver for waiting, and sat down, and then booked an appointement for the next day in my phone. Then I looked up. Nothing looked familiar. I asked the bus driver where we were going.
And that's when I realized I took the bus on the wrong side of the street.

Moving fast

So the last few days have been pretty passive, except for the fact that I went to a job interview (no, I didn't tell you about it, in case it would jynx it. I'm super superstitious that way) and got a call today saying they were interested and were willing to try me out, which is pretty awesome.

But as my motivating geeps says: Things are really moving fast and this is only an opportunity to get caught up and not do well in school.

I was pretty anxious when I accepted the job, but I am saving up for a house (I *really* want one of my one as soon as I can be independent (confession of the day) and I don't want a mortgage, as much as possible) so a job may come in handy. Plus, having the extra pocket money will be useful as a student. Plus, I've been thinking it over and I asked for only a specific amount of hours, so hopefully my new boss will keep that in mind and I won't have to remind him. I have a pretty loaded school schedule, so the money might be coming in handy for a tutor.

The door to adulthood is slowly opening as I make a budget and a schedule and do my taxes... and I'm still trying to figure out if it's beautiful (the illusion of independence) or scary as f*** (everything I have to do). Anyway, I still have three days of vacation, soo

Responsibility

So today my grand-mother got me out of bed at the very reasonable hour of ten am and offered that my geeps drive me to get my UdeM card.

The line ended up being insanely long, so I sent him back home and waited four (!) hours in order to get my student card and my personalized bus card. In line, I met a fourth year girl who was nice enough to tell me all about the bus plans that were good for me, as I had admitted coming from a small town and knowing next to nothing about Montreal. After a winding and hot metro/bus ride back home (where the guy I was sitting next to must of thought I was deranged, since I kept twisting in my seat, trying to see the front of the bus (I don't know where my bus stop is yet, so I have to look at the front of the bus to see something familiar) ),  I am now writing this post and procrastinating hard on my laundry.

Otherwise, nothing has changed. Talk to you when something does,

~Vero. 

Shopping, ch'yeah!

TO, Ottawa, Montreal... they're all known for the awesome shopping sprees. And I live in one of those towns, so who am I to not take advantage of it?

My god-father has given me gift cards that let me shop almost anywhere in Canada... except good ol' Sudbury. So off I went to Anjou, (who has added a Simons, to my great excitement) with my geems, who, having shopped most of her life, knows how to shop. She showed me all the great deals and whatnot, and I can't say how happy I am with all my purchases :D And I also bought Kleenexes, so I'm not panicking about that anymore. Relief.

Today, I am visiting the UdeM campus with my lovely sister in order to not be too disoriented when I start school. One week, how nerve-racking!

Keep in touch,
~Vero. 

Say Yes to the Dress

The title is in honor  of my engaged sister, who religiously watches TLC, so as to be prepared when she buys her wedding dress. Which happened yesterday.

It was a pretty busy day, starting with me taking the bus alone like a big girl (earlier than I was supposed, to, though, which meant I had to get off, wait for my sister to come meet me, then take the same bus 14 minutes later), then meeting my eldest sister and Tanja's two friends at the dress shop.
My sister Tanja, ever so efficient, tried on numerous dresses, found one that she loved (It was so beautiful to see her so happy), retried the other dresses that we liked (we were sitting in four chairs, in a row, in front of a podium with a mirror, making allusions to The X Factor and The Voice) and bought the one she liked within two hours.

I was then introduced to The Jean-Talon market, where I was tempted to empty my savings account and try one of everything (Honestly, it's like a gigantic, slightly more hipster version of Sud's marketplace), but I resisted and only bought ice cream (You can get like, four flavors in one bowl, which means that the possibilities are endless... so, Heaven, pretty much.), duck poutine and a sea food salad that I haven't tried and unfortunately left at my sister's, who doesn't like sea food. Which is a shame for her. 

We then made our way to Tanja's, who, over the years, has learned to make awesome meals, served cheese aubergine, two types of chicken legs (I'll have to get her to get her to tell me the names, but one was spicy and sweet and amazing, and the other was crispy and delicious and I think there may have been some basil on it.), and couscous salad. 

Unfortunately, my eldest sister's dog, Whiskey was sick and she had to go take care of him, which meant we were down to four girls, which still outnumbered my sister's poor fiance, until two of his friends showed up and evened it out a bit. After talking for a bit (My sister's friends are really sweethearts and I loved getting advice from people that had already been and done "that", whatever "that" is - moving to a new city, going to university, ect), I made my way home and didn't wake up until late today.

However, I have to go, because independent living is where TP and Kleenex's don't magically appear in the cupboards, and housework is done by yourself. But also, you get to sit in your bed in pj's and eat cereal while watching reruns and no one judges you. So it evens out. 

Sad day and life hack

Indeed, quite a sad day, because a) I can't finish my banking info because I can't seem to find the info I need, and b) my lovely fish has died. Six days after I got him. How do I not know how to take care of a fish for a week? reason number two why I should never have kids.

So, I've managed to lose my companion and be totally unproductive, which means I have two reasons to be mad at myself.

So for now, I will go finish my resume and hopefully, if my phone stops being dumb, download an app (My lovely sister has let me know about the existence of Safe Trek, an app that lets you put your finger down (pun totally intended) on the screen in case of danger, and type in a PIN if the danger passes. In case of an emergency, you take your finger off the screen, and if ten second passes without a PIN being typed in, the police locates you and comes to save you. Every one on campus (sexism aside, girls especially) should download this. Not technically a life hack, but pretty useful.)

Have a productive Friday,
~ Vero.

Edit: I've flushed Aka down the toilet and cleaning his tank with just water wasn't getting rid of the pungeant smell, so I tried vinegar. My washroom smells like fish and chips. 

Mosaïculture Pictures

A couple years ago, I discovered a love for art and decorating and crafts that I didn't know I had, and two days ago, I went to Mosaïculture, and I was blown away. I've taken pictures, and I really want to share them with you!

The tree planter. In his left hand, it is a REAL young tree, full size, so it gives you an idea of the immensity of the sculpture.

There were actually quite a few horses, and theses were the first we encountered. With the wind blowing in the leaves, they almost looked alive. 

I found this one so creative. Dog made of hay.

This one actually has a story attached to it. In China, a woman loved the red-crowned cranes so much that she moved right beside a nest. One day, she saw a bird drowning in a nearby river, and saved it, sacrificing herself.  The artist thought it fit to represent her love for nature through plants. 

I don't know if any of you have seen it, but this is Hachiko, the dog that waited for his master at the railway every day for him to come home, even after said master's death, thus inspiring the movie "A Dog's Tale". Heart warming story, heart breaking film. 

The artist comes from a town known for making musical instruments. Said town (I totally forget the name, it starts with an H, though) has also taken onto themselves to protect the turtle that is in danger of extinction. The waterfall represents the music of nature. 

The warthogs are actually the first nature sculpture, the ones that started Mosaïculture. There are five of them, made entirely of dried branches. On the left, there is a face on a tree, representing the spirit of the forest (There was a whole section dedicated to them, accessible through an arch and IN the forest instead of on the path, which I found pretty neat)

Another spirit of the forest, this time holding a gigantic snake that actually went all around the trail.

This one was one of my favorites,  because the wood work was so intricate, and fit so perfectly together. also a breath taking impression of a mare and her baby.

Definitely my second favorite. This is mother Nature (Terre Mère was the name of the piece), and she is only a part of the gigantic, awe-inspiring scene (Full piece below). Notice the ladder on the left, there is a person on it, below her jaw-bone, for scale. Her hair was my favorite part, all made of different leaves and flowing in the breeze. Gah.

This one is based on the Chinese belief that such a sculpture (I keep saying sculpture, but I don't think that's what it actually is) will attract a phoenix. Still a beautiful and intricate piece of art. 

This one is my absolute favorite, called the Bird's Tree (L'arbre aux oiseaux). LOOK AT HOW FREAKING BEAUTIFUL IT IS. We were a group of seven, and we just kind of stared at it. Personally, I couldn't get enough of it. Honest to God, I was so taken by it, I just stood there and I'm pretty sure there were tears in my eyes. The picture doesn't even start doing justice to it, but I just had to share it with you guys, it's absolutely mind blowing. More pictures of it below. 

Seen from below 

There a person behind that bird, for scale. That is a SINGLE bird, and there were more than twenty on that tree, plus roots, trunk, and reptiles at the base of the tree (you can see a turtle on the bottom center of the picture)

 There is also a japanese culture house/museum attached to the park, and you can wander through. One of my favorite parts, I absolutely love the Japanese culture. There was a carp pond, which I could have stayed at forever and ever.

Traditional Tea house,  used for weekly demonstrations. There was also a "tea garden", which guests would walk through in order to prepare for tea (there were actually two, an exterior one, linked to the interior one, which in turn directly led to the tea house), but guests weren't allowed in, and the pictures I took from outside were crappy. 

There was also a bonzai garden, this one is 70 years old, if I'm not mistaken. Lovely tree. 

I hope you enjoyed looking at them as much as I did, but for the full expo, you'll just have to come down to Montreal and see for yourself :)

See you later,
Vero.

Biodome, Mosaiculture et Pacini.

So my uncle is on vacation, and brought his two sons and his gf to Montreal and invited my grand-parents to join them, who in turn voluntold me to come along to the biodôme and the mosaïculture. I told my grand-mother I wasn't interested, but she conveniently "forgot" due to her age (her words, not mine) and I felt bad wasting tickets, so I grudgingly went along (not that  I had anything else to do anyway, I kind of have no friends in Montreal yet... *wimper* ).

It was crazy hot here, so we decided to go to Mosaïculture in the morning, since it's outside. Basically, it's an exposition of giant steel sculptures covered in flowers. It's amazing. Honestly. I'll be posting pictures in a different post, because I have so many and so much to say about them, and I don't want this one becoming too long.

Afterwards, my uncle treated us to lunch at Pacini, a nice (sympa is more the word I'm looking for here) italian diner, where I had mushroom creme and ceasar salad, clearly the way to impress our cute waiter with my originality. There was also a dessert they called dolci (see, I'm not the only one who's lacking originality. Dolci is quite literally, dessert, in Italian), a flavoured cream (there was dark chocolate, hazelnut chocolate, crunchy chocolate, vanilla and berry, and lemon). I now know why no where on the menu there was an indication of what it was, because not only do we have no idea what's in it, we don't even have the proper name for it... hence no googling recipes. I'm kind of disappointed, because I was so excited to try it at home (so if anyone knows what I'm talking about, and the name and/or recipe, please, hit me up!).

When Henri started getting fussy, we headed for the biodome, which is a very blown-up version of the third floor at Science North. I didn't get to see the two toed sloth this time, but they did have a capybara and some screaming monkeys, which were absolutely adorable and I completely fell in love with (the capybara is the largest rodent in the world, but it looks like a slim, furry pig, and is adorable in real life. The monkeys have a round, child-like, innocent face that is impossible to not love). There are also baby lynxes, and if you've never seen any, google them. I challenge you not to think at least once that you want one in your house.
Henri absolutely lost it over the fish and every aquarium was a new source of delighted squeals and high-fiving the glass repetitively. I'm pretty sure the person that cleans the glass will notice the spots where he squished his tiny face against it in the hopes of seeing the fish from even closer.

All in all it was a pretty exhausting day, and I'm about as dead as my phone is (which is why the pictures will be uploaded later), so I'm off to take a nap.

Thanks for reading!
Vero

Life hacks, midnight snacks, and gym trips

Can I just say that Pirouline dipped in Nutella make for a heavenly midnight snack? Actually, so very delicious that it's guilt free, despite your pancreas crying in agony. No seriously, try it.

Speaking of brilliant ideas, my sister Tanja has come up with a pinterest worthy idea: She cooks quinoa, puts it in muffin molds, freezes it, puts the little individual servings into a zip-lock, and then just thaws one serving every time she wants a quick, easy supper. Ge-ni-us.

Which leads me to my next adventure of today; going to the gym where my sister works and graciously invited me. She's a PT there and was kind enough to go through her routine with me, which was awesome, seeing as I hadn't worked out in a bit, and was looking a little bit (a lot) out of shape. Afterwards, she invited me to her apartment, where I absolutely fell in love with Chuck Norris, her cat, and she made me dinner (which I took a picture of, Instagram style, because I knew I would have nothing else to post about today. But honestly, it was pretty amazing. Wait till you see it)

This is chicken salad with bell peppers, mushrooms and tomatoes, along with lime Perrier with mint and berries. Delish.

I will leave you guys with this, because it's getting late, I've been going to bed late for a bit (Quebec took quite a toll, and I'd like to apologize to my neighbours for making the clothes line squeak at quarter to midnight yesternight), and tomorrow I'm going to the Biodome and another exposition who's name totally escapes me right now, but I'm so excited, because it's apparently awesome. Hopefully I'll be able to take pictures.

Until then,
Vero.

  

Quebec and Aka

These few days have been crazy busy, which is conforting, because my grand-mother's social life is busier than mine is.

I went shopping, which was painful, because a) there are sooooo many people in these stores, and I don't know where anything is. Said people are also blissfully unaware of their surroundings, and if one more person leaves a cart beside them while browsing shelves (and so blocking the whole alley), I will just kind of walk through it, dragging it with me until I turn. (can you imagine their faces, though), and b) because I was brutally reminded by everyone I spoke with that I had an accent when they would start speaking English to me, because apparently that's easier than trying to communicate in french with my Ontarian butt.

My mother was also darling enough to get me a fighter fish (or a betta fish) so that I wouldn't be lonely (I suspect she bought me one in the hopes that I wouldn't follow through with the rat plan) and he is gorgeous. I promised that if she bought him, she could name him, and she called him Aka, which apparently means red in Japanese (according to Google Translate, anyway).

We also went to Quebec to celebrate my first cousin's second birthday, and we were all so glad (and stunned) to hear that he will no longer be an only child. The cake was made on short notice, but looked amazing (picture below), and Hen'i was so happy about "Flsh Mcquin" being edible he could barely keep his panties untwisted.

Also, a little bit of general history: In 1901, the Phoenix Bridge Company starts building this bridge:

In August 1907, the bridge collapses, killing 76 men, including 37 Mohawks. Since then, every year, the Kahnawake village throws a celebration in memory of their men killed on the bridge. Voila, that's your little piece of info for today. (and also, it's a gorgeous view in a  gorgeous town. Honesty. If you ever have the chance to visit it, do!)

As for the happy moment of the day, let's just take a moment to enjoy the fact that we still have two full weeks of summer before school starts. Here's to soaking up as much sun as possible!

'Till next time,
Vero.

Idea: Fifty Shades of Dr. Seuss

Voicing this idea is actually what got my best friend to suggest this blog, or rather, the idea of putting my ideas on the internet. I'm not quite sure why cyber-announcing the fact that I'm absolutely off my rocker seems like a good thing, but here it is.

In an interview, the interviewer told J.K. Rowling that Fifty Shades of Grey had broken her record for the most books sold.
And her answer is why Rowling is one of my favoritest person ever. Totally unruffled, she said "Yes, imagine how many copies I would've sold if Harry was a bit more creative with his wand."

It got me thinking: what if anyone could have written Fifty Shades of Grey? I mean, there are several hundred amazing authors in this world, and while I hear the plot is good, no one's ever mentioned the writing style being amazing.

What if Terry Pratchett had written it? (That, I would read. It would be amazingly hilarious)
But I think the best suggestion that popped into my mind was Dr. Seuss.
I'm just thinking:
I'm super dominant and seeing red,
It would be so awesome if you got in my bed.

(I'll leave you to imagine the rest)

I smell new paint

Happy moment of the day: Awake chocolate exists. and also my room has the best internet connection in the house. Booyah.

Also, I'd like to make a comment on my upper neighbour's pet elephant, but I was hammering until 10pm for two days now, so I'll pass.
Anyway, coming to Montreal, my parents had absolutely put their foot down when it came to re-painting my room right away. It was no.
Now, I have two very talented older sisters who used to live here, and the eldest one in particular is very artisitc. Which is why I can't find an explanation as to why the room was burnt yellow with pastel green EVERYTHING. Mirrors, bed sheets, billboard, ect.
Thankfully, the ceiling needed to be repainted and somehow, that led to repainting the whole room. Three days later, my room now has three gorgeous lilac walls, dark purple accessories and one white wall, still to be designed (if anyone has any ideas, feel free to throw them at me. We were thinking purple lace-ish design. thoughts?).

I also got to redesign my apartment, which resulted in a smaller living room, but a bigger living space, which is very exciting.
Because I've pretty much been doing this all week, I've barely stepped out of the house, except to go to Home Depot (where we lost our grand-father, in a short but panicky moment, my sister and I checking every single isle of the painfully large store before finding him exactly where we were not twenty minutes ago), and to take the metro down to UdeM, because they hadn't received my final grades, and had canceled my offer. (Thank you, CND, for that last surprise, it made me feel alive. and crushed. and another myriad of emotions I'd rather not revisit right now. Several swear words were also thrown into the mix, just for good measure).
Anyway, I'm back in now, and I just have to pick my courses and manage to find my classes, because it is a BIG campus. And also, people are really old and intimidating there.

I may add a picture later on today, depending on what my day looks like (For the moment, busy, with very little time to deal with my fussy tablet, which is my only mean of taking and uploading pictures right now, so, we'll see.)

Have a happy happy day (I don't know about Sudbury, but Montreal is looking kinda sunny and it's making me happy),
Vero

Edit: Thank you to my tablet for not putting the word "paint" in the title. I did change my shampoo, though, so it wasn't totally wrong.

mysteries, novelty, and autocorrect

I've lived in Sudbury my whole life, except for a small 6 months somewhere in the distant distant past, and I'm not sure that counts. Unless you're the gouvernement, thank God. (Those precious six months mean that I get to pay the Quebec tuition fee, which is pretty darn awesome, if you ask me. )
But my point is that moving makes you prone to asking profound questions.  Honestly,  do I really need 23 pairs of shoes? Why do I have three pairs of running shoes if I don't even run?  How many different combinations can you try before deciding that, screw it, those couches are staying where they are? (yes, because gym class, and seven)
No, but really, this has all been great fun,  from learning how to take the bus (I believed everyone else when they said that Sudbury bus routes sucked, and just never bothered learning) to realizing my french is reaaaaaaaally rusty and I better get on that if I want to pass my courses (she claimed, using the English language.)

Speaking of rusty,  I honestly had so many things totell you guys (in a much less dry style than this,  rest assured), but I'm exhausted,  my laptop's charger's gone mysteriously missing, and typing on a touch screen is pain-stakingly slow and frustrating (why the word "pain" should be autorrected to "lemons"is beyond me. ) and so I keep losing my train of thought, which is hopefully why my writing style is so blah tonight.  I will be back tomorrow,  preferably rested,  with less things on my plate (still have to pick my courses! ) and with a decent keyboard.

A plus,
Vero.