Poser, or is it poseur?

So I've hit the institution popularly known as university, and anyone who's reading this would know because everyone who reads this knows me in 'real' life too. Everyone who's reading this would also know that I am doing nothing but procrastinating by writing this, to the point that I really should not be writing this at all because I have a huge test tomorrow.

I have this thing where I feel like I need to impress people, which is lame, but I know I'm no where near alone in that aspect of my personality. For example, there was a poster sale on campus the other day and I bought some posters(as one tends to do at a sale for posters). Anyways, I bought 'Don Quixote" by Picasso, 'Les Elephants" by Dali, and a crazy colourful one by Kandinsky. Needless to say, I am no art critic and I really know very little to do with art. In my defense I really do like these paintings, but I can't help but think that I bought them in part for credibility. You know, when that cool, well dressed, extremely cultured person who lives on your floor in res walks by and is like, "oh my, Salvador Dali, he's just excellent." And you're like "Hmm, I suppose he's ok, you know all the artist out there, there really are lots that are much better than him, for numerous reasons." Well, I guess that didn't really happen, but it could have, and then I would have been like, score, brownie points with that random! Res seems to suck the life out of you. It is by no means easy to make friends when everyone is either already friends with a lot of people or they're just weird and immature and get into cliques that are way worse than highschool ever was.

So the moral of the story is don't go to university, especially don't live in res, and buy posters because you like them, not because you want others to like you because they think you like them... And now I MUST go and study.

thunder thunder thunder THUNDER! LIGHTNING! RAIN!

Look up before you jump

So, I'm just chillin' at Brian's house, and we hear this loud banging noise from above us. Brian suggests that it's roofers, but seeing as we were in the bottom floor of a three story house, I thought the fact that it seemed like the ceiling was going to collapse meant it was a little closer than that. So being the detectives we are, we went to check it out. When we got upstairs we realized that it was just Patrick cleaning the deck, and all was good. After a little chat with his mom, we started to head back downstairs. Now I have this thing, and other people have said they have it too, where I hate walking up or down stairs in front of people. You kind of get that feeling like you're being chased where your stomach flips around and you get a crazy surge of adrenaline. So I'm walking in front of Brian and kind of getting this feeling, but I'm ignoring it. I said this was a three story house before, and it still is... so that was on the first set of stairs on our way down. Then on the second flight of stairs, he went in front of me and was just fooling around and being stupid, so I just laughed and walked in front of him. Then I heard his footsteps on the stairs behind me and I got all freaked out and started to run down the stairs and I jumped the last two and I heard this big bang, and didn't know what it was at first. Then I realized that it was my head on the doorframe at the bottom of the stairs. Yes I'm still alive, no I didn't get a concussion... I don't think, and yes, I am a retard.

What was I gonna say?

I have a perfectly good reason as for why it's been about a year and a half since my last post.

I have Alzheimers. I'm sorry to break this news to you, but it's true, and is a perfect explaination for much of my odd behaviour. For example, I'll walk out of my house without my shoes, but I usually figure it out by the time I'm on the driveway; I went to school without my backpack the other day; I must write everything on my hand if I want to remember it... in detail because if I write "Talk to nicole" when I want to talk to her about something, I won't know what that something is unless I write that too; I consistantly trail off in the middle of my sentences, or can't start them at all because I've forgotten what I was saying, or was going to say; I have to ask my friends what class I have next on occasion; and I make about two to three different plans, with different people on a single night on a regular basis.

So in other words, I kind of forgot I had a blog, and why would one think about writing on thier blog if they didn't remember they had one?

Why I'm 25 cents richer.

So, I'm on the skytrain with the crew, hardly able to move due to the mass amounts of sushi in my stomach that's weighing me down. We're all pleasantly quiet, reminiscing about the wonderful meal we just ate and as we went along, at one of the stops a very drunk, and therefore responsible (b/c he was taking the skytrain) man stumbled onto the train. He was happily swaying, smiling, and living in his own little drunken world when along came his stop. Meanwhile, Brian and I weren't really paying too much attention to him, we were just talking and what not. However, he did catch our eye when he started walking towards us. We were holding each other's hands and this man decided to drop 50 cents into them, two quarters. He was smiling as if he had just found the cure for AIDS, with the fluorescent skytrain lights gleaming off his red cheeks. Me and Brian decided to split the profit, hence my recent fortune.

Also, just on a side note, I feel like making everyone who reads this feel lucky, in comparison to my misfortune. So I was doing my homework today, and decided to take off my nail polish, just for procrastination. So I'm rubbing away and the song that came up on my CD wasn't really a favourite, so I decided to change it. As I got up, I knocked over my nail polish remover bottle, which was conveniently open. It spilled all over my homework, kindly disintegrating all the ink on the pages. Thank you.

Sigh

My mother asked me to pay her five cents so that the canker on my tongue would go away. Don't worry, I didn't understand either, I attempted to make sense of it, but ended up being more confused than to begin with. We had a good laugh and she blinked her eyes in an exaggerated manner, claiming she's becoming blind from spending too much time on the computer. That reminded me of the last time I saw her laugh. I believe it came right after this story: So I went out for dinner with Brian last night, and we were just eating, talking, you know, the usual things one would do while eating dinner. Then he said something funny that made me laugh, or maybe I was laughing at him, either way, both things, once again, that would happen normally while eating dinner. Then, in a moment of my greatest demonstration of class, wit, beauty, and charm, I snorted at full blast, recieving more than a few looks from the quiet onlookers. I just have one request: Please, would you all still love me when I've completed my transformation into a plump and tiny little pink pig.

Get an education kids

Sometimes you do something, just because you can. Like letting out a fart when someone's vacuuming, because you know they won't hear it, or eating all the clusters, which everyone knows is the best part, out of a cereal box. Well, last night, just because we could, me and a few friends went to a "gentlmens club" a.k.a. a strip club with no alcohol, and more lapdances and interaction with the stripers off-stage... We were all convinced that it was going to be a huge ROFL fest, but once we got there, I thought other wise. There were 35-50 year old men scattered around the room, alone, and I was just praying I could see both of their hands. There were also a few groups of slightly over excited 20-something year olds, crowded around the front. Then out came the girls. They were pretty enough, but seemed a little too young, and a little too drunk, cracked out, or whatever else. Pretty much, if you could go to a place that embodied depression, this would be it. I would say my favourite one was the girl who cleaned the pole of before she started... or maybe the one that fell, twice. I don't really know what I was expecting, but that wasn't it. It think I'll just continue to contemplate this over my easter dinner left overs, that aren't even left overs because we never acually had a dinner. That's right, see if you can figure that one out.