alas, ttc, i think it is time to part.

oh, you were enticing at the beginning. with your slim red streetcars, fancy new buses and your sleek subway system. your chime drew me in, your drivers were always nice, your efficiency was remarkable. that time on st. patricks day i'll never forget, when the subway man announced all the stations with an irish accent--or that cold winter day when the man noted that it was not so summery at summerhill station. the views from the bridge were amazing, as was the history.

my first doubts came on the 25 don mills bus. the driver was angry. at everyone. he slammed on the brakes on corners, and tried to make us all fall with his jerky driving skills. he crammed us all in and kept on telling us to move to the back. 'mr.busdriver' we said, 'how can we move to the back when everyone wants to get off?' 'the back doors are too crowded, and the aisle upstairs is too narrow'. he didn't listen, so we didn't either.

day after day, the 25 bus driver was angry. sometimes it was funny to watch, other times not so funny (especially when being thrown into the armpit of a smelly man). it was frustrating when i would stand for 1/2 hour waiting for a bus, then see 4 buses come at the same time. you were a poor planner, ttc, and your lateness was becoming an issue.

other times, the subway would present problems. while there was no room for jerkiness (to an extent) there was room for slowness. slowing in dark tunnels, cruising at a speed that brings on motion sickness. not, as you would think, waiting in the stations. and the announcments were going downhill too. 'what was that you say? fjdsklfjslkd? oh, you mean chester. I get it now.' so there was clearly some issues with communication, ttc. between you and me.

and streetcar. oh streetcar. you are fine, yet not cool. not airconditioned that is. i guess that's alright, because you don't expect old men like you to be cool. and the problems you presented were not really your own, like traffic on queen, or chinatown on spadina. you can't really help the middle-aged man subtly dry humping my shoulder, nor the people who can't seem to understand that the spadina street car that says king street turns on king street. or that if you try to turn in front of a streetcar, you will always lose.

you betrayed me on monday though. you never showed up, you gave me no warning. i was willing to give you a second chance, but you lost it. this morning. you were delayed on street car for 15 minutes. i was wary, but willing to forgive. unfortunately you took advantage of that on the subway, and shut down between broadview and main, due to some reason i couldn't understand because of our communication issues. you made me get out, go upstairs, and wait with over 1000 other people for a shuttle bus. do you know how hot and muggy it is today? so i stood, watching other people butt ahead of me, watching 7, 8, now 9 buses fill with people. when it was finally my turn, your ttc operators came out and said that the subway was now running. so now i was not only having to go back down to the subway, but was now furthest from the doors with hundreds of sweaty people behind me. down i went, and waited. you finally came, brought me to pape, where i waited for 20 minutes for the 25. when 4 arrived in unison, i was mad. when i got stuck in what had to be the shittiest seat on the bus, i was even more mad. when you made me spill coffee on my pants, i was severly pissed. and after spending 2 1/2 hours together, i called it off.

the love affair is over. i no longer look though the transit system with red rocket glasses. i see you through the eyes of a woman betrayed, deluded by hope and promised broken, resigned to bad transit.

today there was a ttc strike and it was like everyone knew but me. so i woke up at 7 (er, 745), and got all ready in rush like mode, listened vaguely to breakfast television in the background (focussing on the weather, apparently to the exclusion of the loud, ttc strike-like headlines) locked the door and went outside, came back in cause i forgot my metropass, went back outside, walked down the street to go to starbucks and get my grande americano, then i went to the spadina streetcar stop and waited. and waited. i even sat down cause i was waiting for so long. then it came to me that there were absolutely no streetcars coming up or down the street (there are usually a million). so i called brock and lamented about the situation, and figured that there must be some sort of streetcar problem in toronto, cause i wasn't seeing any going on queen or king either. so i got up, STILL NOT FIGURING IT OUT, and walked to Osgood station only to see that the doors were locked. once again, still not cluing in, i went to all the other Osgood doors which were shut as well. SO THEN i was on my way to St. Andrew station to see if that station was open, when Brock finally clued me in that there was a strike.

moral of the story: i am a complete retard in the mornings. especially monday mornings.

why does it have to rain today? i wanted to spend my half day on a patio, face turned to the sun, grazing on appetizers.

whatever. i'd probably get skin cancer or something.

to kill a mockingbird is such a great story. i always forget how wonderful it is until i pick it up and read it again. i also love the cover on it, the modern classic one by Harper Perennial. nothing like a good book to read for the 3 hours everyday i spend on the ttc.

it is my brothers birthday this weekend which means that my birthday is next and it is a frightening birthday altogether. 25. i have already been concerned about it for quite a while, yet have refrained from voicing these concerns. mortality is a fishy thing, and birthdays should be deleted from earths mainframe.

i applied to a better job last week with another company and they called me today at 11 to screen me. And the lady was all surprised that I was at work. Like, hello, it says it on my resume? So anyways, I took the call outside but was really distracted because it was the middle of the morning and i was already in a pissy mood. i don't know if it went well or not because i wasn't really paying attention. plus, one of my bosses was standing outside close to me having a smoke, so i felt a little distracted. is there etiquette for this type of thing? I mean, i'm on contract, so it's to be expected that i'm applying to other jobs. But to talk to those companies on work time? I dunno.

We skipped out on Douglas Coupland last night and i'm glad cause it sounded boring. i'd rather not see an author speak, it kind of ruins me on them forever. the notion that other people read them, and are interested in what they have to say. also, i never understood english essays in highschool, where you had to pick out themes and stuff and write about them. Like, do these authors write with themes and symbolism and all that other obscure crap in mind? Most likely not, so isn't it a little, i dunno, dumb to write about stuff that the authors never meant you to read into and if they saw some of this shite they would be like, wtf are you doing? anyways.

i'm going to go home now.

Today I went to work and then decided I didn't want to be there anymore so I left. Faked sick. It was awesome. Nothing like sticking your head in the ground when you got a millions loads of work to deal with. But to tell you the truth, i'm not quite at that pay level where I could give a shit. I'll tell you when i'm there (probably never).

So I got some Chana Masala, had a two hour nap, watched some You Are What You Eat (best show EVER), went shopping on Queen (I am in a shoe phase at the moment) then went to the bookstore and got "To Kill a Mockingbird" and "The Romantic". Even though I work at a publishing company and get 60% off of my companies books, I totally prefer the competition.

In completely unrelated news, one of my kittens (Ferdinand) can now jump up onto the kitchen counter but the other one can't yet. So the one parades around all proud of himself while the other looks on longingly. I'm trying to teach him a way, but he refuses to learn. (actually, they're not allowed up there in the first place, but it's just not fair). Plus, are cats supposed to fart? I mean, my one little guy (Finnegan) totally lets these rancid farts rip. Totally nasty.

apparently, calling colleagues 'mofos' (as in, 'yo mofo, got that manuscript done?') is not work appropriate language.

whatever.

i am rereading lord of the rings during my commute. it probably isn't considered to be cool, and most probably out of style, however, i felt like reading it so i am. we're at tom bombadills at the moment. do you ever notice how people try to sneak a look at what you're reading and make complete judgements on who you are and how you live your life by what you read? no? me neither.

I have this woman harrassing me from the Nova Scotia community college calling me all day, and leaving messages EVERY TIME. she called twice on the weekend, five times yesterday, and three times so far this afternoon. This has happened before from other schools (namely the Nursing Department at the Univesity of Alberta, that man from Cambrian college, and the entirity of Douglas college), but this woman takes home the golden prize. And I, given the joys of call display, never pick up the phone.

So, if you are reading this, crazy woman from the Nova Scotia community college, please leave me alone.

today summer hours start. it means working an extra 45 minutes everyday so friday becomes a half-day. work in the morning, get the afternoon off. it sucks though, because for the remaining four days you resent the fact that you have to stay 45 minutes later. for me, however, as with all things, the time is not relevant. i still come in late, and plan on leaving early. not, perhaps, as early as normal, but early enough.

i still resent the 45 minutes extra though.

i ate too much food for supper last night and spent the remainder of the night waddling around and feeling highly uncomfortable. sometimes, it's just better to puke it all up and start all over again...except this time with less food. it's hard though, when the meal is SO fantastic that you just can't stop yourself.

what a lovely picture that paints of me. i'm so proud of myself.

file this post under awesome.

last night i watched kenny vs. spenny and it was insane. it was a losing weight competition, and they lost 40 pounds in 3 days...other people talk about survivor at the watercooler, i talk about colon cleansing...it was cool because it wasn't one i'd seen before...

& even though it was raining this morning, like hard rain, the building managers turned on the sprinkler system to water the plants outside. i thought that was weird, but these people are weird. they belong in a trailer park. even though they market my building as too cool for school and all urban and hip and shit, they have these two scummy wal-martish people running it and trying to tell me that the building has to project a certain image. all i have to say is if you're trying to be hip, man, you really shouldn't have put in the offwhite seashell sink and faux oak cabinets. because nothing says uncool like that.

yesterday, two people had a conversation outside of my cubicle on the virtues of linen pantsuits and hummingbird/firefly/dreamcatcher earrings. i pretended to be all interested but in my mind i was like 'wow, this is the most boring and completely unrelatable conversation i've ever had. please stop what your saying, or i'm going to commit suicide right in front of you with only a paperclip and that plastic monkey from the bellinis i had on saturday that somehow ended up on my computer'.

exactly.

everyone here is gone somewhere and it is so deserted and i hope they are not having a meeting about me and how much of a disapointment i am.

i am having fasciculations in my leg right now and have been having them for the last 24 hours and am highly annoyed by them. also, i skipped out on yoga last night and continued my ever increasing addiction to caffiene by going to starbucks for my second grande americano of the day. when i got home i watched a documentary or whatever on snoop dogg.

this morning the kittens were insane and were not only meowing at the bedroom door in alternating shifts from 5am onwards, but have recently discovered the joys of throwing themselves at the door to make really loud noises and wake me up to see if there is an emergency but there totally isn't and all they want to do is wrestle with eachother on the bed and attack my naked body with their sharp little claws and mostly turn into evil tasmanian devils. and the more you ignore them the more persistent they are.

my revenge, of course, will come next month at the vetrinarians. little do they know whats in store for their precious baby testicles.

suckers.

M:I3 was good. So good, in fact, that you kind of forgot it was Tom Cruise playing the lead. Of course, everything is good after 3 drinks.

and we FINALLY got pvr. i mean, you don't even know how many wasted days and thoughts and phone calls went into tracking down a rogers that had it. Because of our new tv, we get it for free for 6 months. already, many things (primarily movies, but also gilmore girls and some hgtv stuff) are being recorded. I am excited. Instead of Dr. Phil after work i will be watching Zoolander.

And work is so stressful. I mean, this is my first classic office job, and i can't believe how much stress it gives you. So I have little anxiety attacks and think about whether I did this or oops i forgot to do that and man did i fuck that up to the extent i think i did??? It just kind of takes over your life, like your WHOLE life. and i know i shouldn't let that happen, and really, i shouldn't care all that much...but so many people depend on me. It's like this is a giant machine and you know how in these giant machines there is always one little screw that holds everything together...well I AM THAT SCREW. for my department i mean. actually, probably for my whole division.

so that kind of stresses me out.

plus, the commute blows shit.

and the pay? well that blows shit too.

i rented casanova on friday and was highly disapointed. i mean, it was ok, but that was it. i was looking for more in the film. i should have guessed it would suck though, what with it not even being in blockbusters top 10.

also, last week i saw natalie portman in the annex. she looked like a homeless boy-child.

i continue to dominate at tetris worlds.....however, i forgot to what extent it alters your sense of reality...like i'll be talking to someone and in the back of my mind, instead of inner dialougue i am making perfect tetrises and other awesome moves...when i look anywhere i wonder if i could possibly fit an L into that and make a triple...i'm glad my life has developed to this this fufilling existence though...

the kittens keep trying to sabotage my awesomeness though. they keep trying to catch the tetris pieces which would be cute if it wasn't our brand new 32" LCD tv they were scratching at. they are insane animals though, and i think they have major plans of apartment domination in the works and everything up until now has been test runs...

maybe tonight we will see M:I3. even though tom cruise has gone crazy, brock has maintained his manly crush on him. i wish i could eat some mushrooms beforehand though...that would be way more fun.

have a nice weekend.

Hi,

I am going insane. Nobody mentioned to me that being a coordinator entails being some sort of super being. I feel like I have ADD, like enforced ADD, and it is not pleasant. And it forces me to make mistakes because I have so many things to do that I cant follow everything up to the level I want to.

Argh.

At least the weeks are flying by. Maybe at the end of this contract I'll go back to retail. I can put my Masters degree to more use there than I can where I am now. And if you knew were I was working, you would lose all faith in academia. Well, assuming you had some in the first place.

I want to go back to bed.