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Above is one of my favourite pictures of Richey and Nicky...I find it inspirational...well, actually I find it insurmountably depressing considering the fact that Richey's missing, presumed dead, and Nicky's married, but whatever. I like the picture, nevertheless.
Well, I just wrote my very last fucking-bad test --this time in sociology-- seriously. No more after this! I'm 18 and I have absolutly puerile work habits. I mean, I had a test today which I've known about for weeks and I only started studying for it at 4 o'clock yesterday!! What am I saying -- I only began to peruse the readings for the very first time at 4 o'clock yesterday! And, knowing full well that questions from the lectures were going to be on the test, I still missed no less that three lectures for no apparent reason!!! I'm not an university student, I'm just wasting everyone's time and money staying here. It's absolutly ridiculous. Anyway, I'm going to cut this entry short because I've got to STUDY before my German culture class tomorrow which I'm GOING TO ATTEND. Plus, I have to get dressed and escort my wheel-chair-bound friend to her class because there's a hell of a snow-storm outside.

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Current Location: Residence
Current Mood: grumpy grumpy
Current Music: "We don't need nobody else" -- Whipping Boy

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Aghhhh I had a sort of eventful week. My good friend at the university slipped on some ice and broke her leg (actually, she dislocated her ankle AND sustained a medial fracture). This made me really sad because she's such a kind and active person -- always bright-eyed and animated, and it was very depressing to say the least to see her so quiet and listless after her injury. I stayed with her all night at the hospital while she was being treated and I visited her everyday while she was recovering from surgery. She hated it there and was very restless and annoyed -- I don't blame her. I went to the hospital again today to pick her up (in a taxi of course because I don't have a car) and she's pretty much been in her room since then. I went to visit her around eleven and she's very sad and I think quite ashamed to be injured. She hides away in her room like it's somehow shameful to be injured but i guess it's also really frustrating and tiring for her to try to get around. I'll give her a couple of days to recouperate and then I'm going to nag her to reemerge since she's going to be physically handicapped for at least six weeks anyways. I just want to see her happy again.
I also made a friend. Or at least, I like him very much and hop he's a friend. We've had a few long conversations together -- a couple of coffee-outings -- and he's very introspective, very unique and clever. I hope that he doesn't think I'm a crashing bore and start to ignore me.
Well, it's past four in the morning and I'm so tired that I'm really not making sense. I can't even think properly. I think I'll head to bed. Everything will have to wait til tomorrow but on the plus side, my friend is visiting me. Maybe he'll let me do his eyeliner again.

Current Mood: sleepy sleepy
Current Music: Klaus Nomi -- ""Simple man"

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I'm ill with flu-like symptoms. Yay. Now I'm even more useless than ever. Everything is a chore. I feel like fucking just lying in bed penning suicide verse in my head. I'm not even that sick -- I've just got this annoying headache and runny nose and I have to keep stopping whatever I'm doing to blow my nose and fight back dizzyness every two minutes. I wish I could just go to sleep but I've got to watch a movie with a friend at nine and then study with another one after that. I'm such a bitch. I'm so mean to people I care about; I'm so cold. I wish I could just be happy waking up in the morning and seeing my friends. I wish I could actually pick up a text book and read it. I wish I could answer the door when people knock and feel happy to see them. I wish I wasn't so sad to be without people and so sad to be with them. I understand now why suicide is so attractive to so many people: life is just too fucking complicated. There's all these things that one has to do, just to survive. And that goes for just about everybody. It's just too much of a fucking bother.
I read somewhere that the Queen's mother used to just lie in bed all day reading magazines and eating chocolate. Fuck, a lot of royalty does that. I don't want to be that fucking useless I just want to be left alone but also to feel content to be left alone, not guilty and depressed. I wish there was someone I could talk to -- well, talk at, I suppose -- someone that understands me and doesn't mind if I prattle on for hours about my emotions. But no one in their right mind would want to do that, not even if they loved me -- it's too much to ask of another human being who has needs and desires of their own. And mother always says that the whole psycho-analysis thing is bollocks anyway so traditional therapy is out of the question. Oh well. Life goes on around me.

Current Location: Residence
Current Mood: frustrated frustrated
Current Music: Nurse with wound

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It's 3:27 on a Monday morning which is a lovely, productive time for me. For example, I've just eaten a tangerine. My friend came to my room and knocked about an hour ago which is odd considering the late hour, but then again, she doesn't have classes until about six PM in the evening. I, on the other hand, have several classes tomorrow, or, rather, today, starting at the truly ghastly hour of ten o' clock. I have a quiz tomorrow morning and whenever I don't the night before a quiz or test I'm truly out of it whilst writing it, but it's so late now. Perhaps I'll just have an extra-large coffee from the disgusting-excuse-for-a-cafe downstairs.
Anyway, my eldery (and insane) cat, is really sick so I spent most of the weekend taking care of her. She'd disappeared for two days and we looked everywhere for her but couldn't find her; I think that she'd crawled into this weird kind of crawl-space that we have in the basement. it's actually a really huge room but it's up high and the ceiling is only separated from the floor by about one foot. I always think that if the Germans decided to ever come after the jews again, we could always hide a bunch in there. Yeah, I know, that was truly gruesome and inappropriate but such is the workings of my mind. Anyway, my cat was there for about two days and when she finally remerged, she was quite ill so I had to wake up a couple times in the night to take care of her.
And in other matters, my friend is still dating his hideous slithering slug of a psychopath boyfriend so I feel really depressed about that. I know that it's none of my business, but I jst find it really depressing and incrediably affecting to watch someone so kind and sweet wasting his life.
Sometimes I miss my old high school friends but i find it really hard to keep in touch with people. Relationships of any sort actually: it's a serious case of "it's not you; it's me" I guess. The only relationships I feel are important to maintain throughout my life are those with my mom and brother and sister. And my animals for as long as they live. I'm too much of an annoying, garrulous time-waster for me to feel like anyone else should have to spend any time in my company. It's weird though. There's certain people in Uxbridge that I left when I went away to university that I really, really liked and wanted to get to know better. I just wish I had more time with them. Oh well. i regret more than a few things I've done in my life.

Current Location: Residence
Current Mood: pessimistic pessimistic
Current Music: "She is suffering" -- Manic Street Preachers

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Just returned from my home up north to Toronto -- something which I love doing. I mean, I like having two homes which are complete polar opposites but I really do like them both (and hate them both) in completely different ways for completely different reasons. I was cleaning up my room and then I remembered that I hadn't yet checked my psychology mark (a class that I was terrified of failing because I felt that I did so poorly on the final exam) so I checked it with more than a little trepidation and it turns out that I not only passed but that I also recieved a 70%!!! I know it's not a terrific mark from an objective standpoint but that class was far too scientific for a person who's science career ended in grade 10 upon recieving the less-than-steller mark of 51%. So anyway, I'm quite pleased with this mark and combined with the grade of my only other half-year course, "Sexuality: Histories, Theories and Cultures", maeans that I'm a B student despite my best attempts to fail miserably!
On a more tragic note, I still have to pay over $8500 in school fees before the end of the year!!! What are they trying to do to us students in Canada??? Why are they making us suffer???? Not only are we forced to go to university if we want to get some sort of job with a salary we can live on in later life but we also have to pay huge fees to even go to a university in the first place. The most tragic thing of all in my case is that if my mother would have gotten her British citizenship (my grandmother was born in Britain so my mother could have gotten her citizenship relatively easily) and if we had lived in Britain for three years, we could have gone to university for free!! That fucking pisses me off. Another thing that really bugs me about this whole situation is that my dad hasn't helped us out with one cent leaving my mother and my sister and me to pay for everything. I'm not talking to him at all as a result of him being such a cheap bastard. We never got along anyway so this is just a good excuse to never bother talking to him again.
I've recently become absolutly fascinated with the old English matinee idol, Ivor Novello. He's actually Welsh which I think is wonderfully attractive, and gay, and dead. All the characteristics, in other words, of the perfect man: absolutly and utterly unsuitable and unattainable yet completely irresistable. It's doesn't hurt, of course, that he has a lovely aristocratic nose and wears makeup. Here's a picture for your viewing pleaure:

Anyhoo, I'm off to complete my German homework since I've a test tomorrow and I'm determined to do really well this semester! I mean, I'm not particularily attractive or interesting or anything so if I'm given the chance to succeed in things that I know I can succeed in, like doing well in school, than why the fuck don't I? It certainly costs me enough.

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Current Location: Residence
Current Mood: annoyed annoyed
Current Music: The Cure: "From the edge of the deep green sea"

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Aghhhh! My winter break was so dull this year! All I did was mostly plod about at home and cultivate my love for all things Irish...without the exception of consuming the beverage which has, in a sense, almost become the national symbol of Ireland. Actually, I've mostly been reading a lot, playing videogames and repeatedly taking tea breaks despite the fact that I've done very little actual work to have earned them. I went to a family dinner on Christmas which was, as per usual, awkward and uncomfortable and my Uncle was actually sick so it was really dull and everyone went home early.
I went to a good old-fashioned Irish pub today with my mom and sister (both of whom I've been hanging out with lately ad nauseum) and we ordered way too much food and my mom actually had two glasses of wine instead of her customary one. I know. We went crazy broadway style. (<--- sarcasm) Unattractive middle-aged men kept approaching our table and sort of chatting us up and it got me thinking that I really should have actively searched for a pub where the cliantele is young and fairly attractive. Pubs are interesting because they're really like a sort of self-contained community: everyone's sort of tipsy and they're all quite friendly and they'll talk to anyone. I actually like that sort of thing where people fell safe and comfortable talking to strangers. There's something so wonderfully uncanadian about it. Or, at least that's what a lot of foreign-born Canadians say about us, that we're stand-offish and aloof, which isn't a great reputation, really. Well, anyway, as I said, I want to find this pub with a young, hip cliantele and maybe actually make some friends. I used to be quite confident and talkative when I was younger but now, for some reason, I find it really hard to make the first move. I think a pub setting, especially when I'm slightly inebriated and with some friends, would be the perfect place to meet some people. Especially if they're skinheads whom I find incrediably sexy. And by skinheads I don't mean neo-nazis, they're entirely different, look it up.
But, of course, the real problem with pubs is that the next day, everyone sobers up and it's back to feeling silly, stupid and inadequte. Would I call the peoples' numbers that I got the night before in a pub? Not bloody likely.

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Current Location: Mom's Work
Current Mood: tired tired
Current Music: Tears for Fears -- "Mad World"

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Things didn't work out exactly as planned tonight and I ended up becoming really frustrated and almost ended up crying at the bus stop. Does anyone detect a hint of the first line of an emo song? Plus, I lost five dollars and a lot of time and my Jewish heritage won't stand for those sorts of shenanigans. Well, in short, I missed my bus and then when I tried to buy tickets for the next one, I realized that I didn't have my purse with me and I was convinced that I had lost it somewhere while I was frantically running down the back streets ("oi! oi! oi!"). That's when I, in a stereotypically feminine fashion, sat down on one of the benches at Union Station to rummage through my bags and fight back tears. I don't know why I'm so fucking theatrical all the time. I'm either almost manically happy and cheery or else extremely sad and listless. I'm pretty good at hiding it though, when other people are around. Most of the time. Sometimes I just feel like being uber-happy or pissed-off and petulant.
It's weird though. I mean, I see my pets and my family almost every weekend; why did that one setback make me so sad? I think I was just angry at myself for missing my bus; I left too late. I was pissed and I got lost coming home. I had to get off at the wrong subway stop because this really tall and scary-looking pickel sat down next to me on the bus. (A pickel is a potentially dangerous and scuzzy-looking person whom one would gladly cross the street to avoid) And I mean RIGHT beside me. Yuck.
I hung out with my friends, Matt and Crystine later. We just talked and got coffee and so forth, but I was really happy all of a sudden when I was with them. I felt weird about it later though, like my happiness was inappropriate or something.
Didn't do much up until now, just listened to some music and read an online comic about a goth boy with the power to modify reality who, is also the avatar of death. It's really sweet and lovely; unfortunately I think the authoress discontinued it. She drew a lot of them, however, which is cool. I really want to write my own novel. It would have to be dark and angsty -- but not so much so that it looks like a sad attempt at novelizing a Bright Eyes song. I kind of want to make the main character like Richie Edwards from the Manic street Preachers -- only he disappeared, possibly by jumping over a bridge. I want my Richie-type character to have a happy ending. I mean, the man was riddled with severe psychological and emotional problems. I mean, he cut himself to the point that he had to be hospitalized and everyone knew he was doing it to himself; he was anorexic; a drug user; and an alcoholic. Then when he disappeared, everyone was surprised. I remember watching a documentary about him that had two fans discussing his disappearance. They were saying things like, "I can't believe he abandaned us". I mean, how fucking stupid could you be? He was severely fucking depressed, and no one, including his bandmates and his fans seemed to care. (Nicky Wire once said in an interview in which Richie was present that he thought that the razor gash he had to be hospitalized was brilliant; and once a Japanese fan fucking sent him a set of knives.) That makes me so sad and sick to my stomach. How could people be so cruel? He was crying out to them and they didn't give a fuck. They thought it was all about the image! That boy had more deep gashes, cigarette burns, and scratches on him than I've ever seen on a living human being. And he was starving himself!!! Aghhhhhhhhhhh I hate humanity; and I think Richie did too. Why would someone want to live in a world where people can treat people who are so obviously killing themselves and in need of help by ignoring their problem completey? I think Richie should be in every fucking sociology text book on the planet as a product of social apathy. Anyway, that was a long, long rant. Here's a few pictures of the tragic figure himself, in all his beauty and morbity.

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Current Location: Morrisson Hall
Current Mood: tired tired
Current Music: Das Ich -- Destillat

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I just wrote a three-hour final for my psychology course -- I would measure my performance as roughly the equivalent of Justin Timberlake's at any concert. That is, very, very bad. I'm so fucking happy anyway because that was my last exam until the end of next semester. Hell yeah!
Went across the street after that to get a snowflake chai tea latte at Timothy's. I think the really attractive eastern European guy behind the counter put coffee in it though -- ha weird. Attractive people are able to get away with a lot though -- I mean, honestly, I might've been pissed off, but nobody ever gets angry with attractive people. Simply gracing you with their presence is enough. I tasted the coffee and was like, "what the hell?" but then he smiled, and I was like, "ah, fuck it."
I was supposed to hang out with my friend today but she's sick so I'm just going to go home later tonight instead. I love people and being with people but honestly, I'd rather be back on the farm in mother's officiously messy house with all the cats, birds, dogs and horses than here. My room in residence is nice and everything -- except for being in horrible disarray right now -- but I just feel really lonely here. I've made some friends and all -- two who live just down the hall in fact -- but I much prefer to be on my own. Is that symptomatic of an avoidant personality or anything? Maybe. I don't know. I feel guilty when I don't visit my friends but I just feel like it's so much effort. I hating feigning cheerfulness all the time. I can do it in short bursts like when I pass people I know in my building and such, but if I have to spend a whole day with people or something, I get really sad and self-concious and fantasize about doing something really drastic.
I like subterfuge and fantasy worlds where all my heroes are dead or dying. Is that weird? I guess that's a rhetorical question, seeing as I already know the answer.
Oh, well

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Current Location: Morrisson Hall
Current Mood: discontent discontent
Current Music: Stars -- The Very Thing

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