I have moved to:
http://kharlamovaa.wordpress.com/
READ ME NOW or suffer something really painful and smelling like your grandmother.
Seriously.
Ak.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Squeeze me like a key lime - those are little, right?
I am currently sweating an increasing amount of bodily odour through my clothing, can't swallow, and can barely stand up without my brain feeling like the Westminster bell in my head - clang clang CLANG! Ring a bell?
Ahh, cold season. Now, you might think I'm just describing summer in Canada, but alas, it is fall and, alas, it is cold and wet and grimy and everyone is sick and out of touch with responsibilities. I don't know how the rest of the university (or even normal, working) population handles this season, but my future certainly doesn't bode well according to my current condition. Ie. I have several final essays (all within the distribution range of being worth 25% of my grade) and a part time job and RESP's and bank problems and wisdom teeth and a lack of 2 family members within 2 weeks and exams. Great.
I'm listening to Grace Potter and the Nocturnals in the hopes that their little jazzy numbers will spit some life back into me but so far the sweating is doing a better job of getting me out of bed than artfully played guitar, sadly. Is it ever hot underneath those covers!?
As usual, I never find enough time to play guitar or write anything interesting or creative or even, as of late, READ anything interesting, except when I'm at work and my coworkers stuff a Toronto Sun underneath my nose (a Mississauga woman is suing her boss for bringing a prostitute to a business meeting! Thrilling!). How far things have come from..... well, I guess there never really was a time when I had the time or the money to do all things simultaneously.
My friends all lay forgotten in their far-city crypts like old toys, and I seem to have gotten over the bitterness I had at the beginning of the year for their not having any time for me. Thing is, I don't really have time for them either, and that's not just my spite talking (well, okay, maybe a little bit..). I can't believe I signed up to work for a winter break camp ADDING to my part time job at King Eddies. I mean, I guess money is good and all but I think I'm becoming a workaholic. Maybe it's just easier working instead of being at home, where everyone is always freaking here. It's really been quite a tough transition from residence back home. No privacy, no silence (I know what you're thinking - residence? Silence? Well, to put it bluntly, my house is more raggamuffin-y than my residence at U of T. Everyone's voice carries 500 decibels over what I actually need to hear them, they're always scuttering around asking me questions, trying to feed me, asking me for favours. At res, I could just lock my door and pretend to be out.) It's a tough, loud life.
And I'm sure my comparative essay on Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet isn't going to help matters. But at least I'm writing this instead of playing on omgpop.com - a new obsession of mine (have you ever noticed that throughout the school year you, or I, seem to accrue a significant amount more obsessions than I do in the summer? Fact in point - Ugly Betty, Californication, omgpop.com). It's amazing, there's little monkeys with water balloons. Seriously, this is the best site for online gaming that I have seen in a long time - there's a spiteful version of tetris, a word scramble that makes you feel as though you're actually doing something productive with your procrastination instead of just rearranging letters, and again, did I mention the monkeys with the water balloons?
I know this isn't a whole lot to be concerned with, in the general scheme of things, but I have been doing some deeper pondering/reading as of late, as well!
Case in point: Sam Harris': An Atheist Manifesto. I realize that his view is pretty bleak, but at least it's realistic. I, for one, am Unidentified. I don't want to flip flop with religion and for the past 5 years or so, ever since I have personally started reading about religion (and its' hypocrisies) have been pretty steady in my opinion. But every now and again I watch beautiful, smart people that are kind and gentle and religious and I, despite not particularly wanting to admit this to myself or anyone else, lose a little respect for them. Really? Nobody's going to save the human race. We got ourselves into this shit and in it is where everyone's going to drown.
Hmm, that's a little depressing, and I'm not sure it fully relays what I think, but I'm not really in the mood anymore to write out a full history of my belief. Maybe another time.
Right now, I'm going to go try read some Shakespeare and see if I can link two plays together in some sort of intellectual way that won't make me fail the course.
I'm such a good student. (PS, I will also try to take the books to work and pretend to read them when there's nothing happening and people are watching tv. But I won't be able to so I'll just start rearranging the words and making profanities out of them.) But I will at least have tried, in my weakened state, to help my future self out a little bit.
PPS. Who is kicking Understanding Colour's ass? I am. YEAH BITCH.
Ciao. Ak.
Ahh, cold season. Now, you might think I'm just describing summer in Canada, but alas, it is fall and, alas, it is cold and wet and grimy and everyone is sick and out of touch with responsibilities. I don't know how the rest of the university (or even normal, working) population handles this season, but my future certainly doesn't bode well according to my current condition. Ie. I have several final essays (all within the distribution range of being worth 25% of my grade) and a part time job and RESP's and bank problems and wisdom teeth and a lack of 2 family members within 2 weeks and exams. Great.
I'm listening to Grace Potter and the Nocturnals in the hopes that their little jazzy numbers will spit some life back into me but so far the sweating is doing a better job of getting me out of bed than artfully played guitar, sadly. Is it ever hot underneath those covers!?
As usual, I never find enough time to play guitar or write anything interesting or creative or even, as of late, READ anything interesting, except when I'm at work and my coworkers stuff a Toronto Sun underneath my nose (a Mississauga woman is suing her boss for bringing a prostitute to a business meeting! Thrilling!). How far things have come from..... well, I guess there never really was a time when I had the time or the money to do all things simultaneously.
My friends all lay forgotten in their far-city crypts like old toys, and I seem to have gotten over the bitterness I had at the beginning of the year for their not having any time for me. Thing is, I don't really have time for them either, and that's not just my spite talking (well, okay, maybe a little bit..). I can't believe I signed up to work for a winter break camp ADDING to my part time job at King Eddies. I mean, I guess money is good and all but I think I'm becoming a workaholic. Maybe it's just easier working instead of being at home, where everyone is always freaking here. It's really been quite a tough transition from residence back home. No privacy, no silence (I know what you're thinking - residence? Silence? Well, to put it bluntly, my house is more raggamuffin-y than my residence at U of T. Everyone's voice carries 500 decibels over what I actually need to hear them, they're always scuttering around asking me questions, trying to feed me, asking me for favours. At res, I could just lock my door and pretend to be out.) It's a tough, loud life.
And I'm sure my comparative essay on Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet isn't going to help matters. But at least I'm writing this instead of playing on omgpop.com - a new obsession of mine (have you ever noticed that throughout the school year you, or I, seem to accrue a significant amount more obsessions than I do in the summer? Fact in point - Ugly Betty, Californication, omgpop.com). It's amazing, there's little monkeys with water balloons. Seriously, this is the best site for online gaming that I have seen in a long time - there's a spiteful version of tetris, a word scramble that makes you feel as though you're actually doing something productive with your procrastination instead of just rearranging letters, and again, did I mention the monkeys with the water balloons?
I know this isn't a whole lot to be concerned with, in the general scheme of things, but I have been doing some deeper pondering/reading as of late, as well!
Case in point: Sam Harris': An Atheist Manifesto. I realize that his view is pretty bleak, but at least it's realistic. I, for one, am Unidentified. I don't want to flip flop with religion and for the past 5 years or so, ever since I have personally started reading about religion (and its' hypocrisies) have been pretty steady in my opinion. But every now and again I watch beautiful, smart people that are kind and gentle and religious and I, despite not particularly wanting to admit this to myself or anyone else, lose a little respect for them. Really? Nobody's going to save the human race. We got ourselves into this shit and in it is where everyone's going to drown.
Hmm, that's a little depressing, and I'm not sure it fully relays what I think, but I'm not really in the mood anymore to write out a full history of my belief. Maybe another time.
Right now, I'm going to go try read some Shakespeare and see if I can link two plays together in some sort of intellectual way that won't make me fail the course.
I'm such a good student. (PS, I will also try to take the books to work and pretend to read them when there's nothing happening and people are watching tv. But I won't be able to so I'll just start rearranging the words and making profanities out of them.) But I will at least have tried, in my weakened state, to help my future self out a little bit.
PPS. Who is kicking Understanding Colour's ass? I am. YEAH BITCH.
Ciao. Ak.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
comme des enfants
You see, she was pulling up these beige coloured stockings over her stocky knees in the blunt light of the midday and it was falling directly on her calves, colouring them like athletes have. A phone rang in the other room, maybe the kitchen, while her fingers were tracing the little hairs on her leg up to her thighs like a crisscrossed, missmatched highway of skin. She was lost in the silkiness of the fabric, or nylon, or plastic or whatever it was she was stretching over these limbs of hers. It was like butter, but better.
She looked up over her left shoulder when she heard a zipper and a belt buckle jangling near where the phone continued its neverending ring. Her hair caught itself on the muscles of her back and she straightened from being bent at the middle and caught a glance of herself in the dark mirror. She liked this darker colour to her hair that she recently put in. It suited her dark eyes and she liked having the camouflage available in case the opportunity ever came. Plus, red lipstick was a solid fight with her eyes now, not just an overpowering lover.
"Salaam, chetori baba?"
Murmur, she remembered a book by Munsch or someone that has something to do with murmuring, how silky it was. Murmur murmur.
-Ak.
She looked up over her left shoulder when she heard a zipper and a belt buckle jangling near where the phone continued its neverending ring. Her hair caught itself on the muscles of her back and she straightened from being bent at the middle and caught a glance of herself in the dark mirror. She liked this darker colour to her hair that she recently put in. It suited her dark eyes and she liked having the camouflage available in case the opportunity ever came. Plus, red lipstick was a solid fight with her eyes now, not just an overpowering lover.
"Salaam, chetori baba?"
Murmur, she remembered a book by Munsch or someone that has something to do with murmuring, how silky it was. Murmur murmur.
-Ak.
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