Ginger Kids

Ginger Kids. Just go. Click on the FAQ. I died.

Gakked from Gingerkid Alicia. Who's awesome, even if she doesn't have a soul.

My Mess

My room is a hole right now. A hole from which dirty laundry and paper and towels and books and movies and blankets and dishes cannot escape. Just to clarfiy: it's messy, not dirty...I'm not living in absolute squalor. Sometimes it's nice to be surrounded by your things, comforting to look around and see little bits of you piled everywhere. I know some comment can be made about materialism and consumerism can be made here, but I don't care to. The point is that my room has definitely crossed from "nice clutter" to "piles of mess that are out to eat my feet and anything I mistakenly put down on the floor".

Starting the cleaning process right now. Well, I'm thinking about it anyway. Creating a plan of attack to outwit my dirty laundry.

Walked downtown today, such a mistake. I couldn't feel my legs by the time I got to MarketFresh. Stupid Canadian winter. I really just wanted something vaguely sweet but not chocolate (as I've made a bet with myself that I can go two weeks without it. Trust people, this is a big thing for me). Ended up buying a few things. Bad news for Toni as it meant I had to make room for my food in the already very full fridge.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Susan's screenname described it best: "Ahh, the shrieks of the damned...aka toni cleaning out the fridge." There were about a billion pounds of old yogurt and another billion pounds of vegetables in various stages of rot. We all buy vegetables and fully intend to eat them but then we end up eating eggs and bread all the time....or something else equally unvegetable-like. I definitely got rotten vegetable juice all over my hand and shrieked like a little girl.

You would have too. Trust.

Happy 50th Grandparental Units

This picture isn't from any anniversary or anything like that. It's just one of my favourites, they both look so happy and playful.



Aren't they cute? (Is it condescending to call your grandparents cute?) This second one was taken at their 50th anniversary party. Now, I'm not in a hurry to jump on the marriage train (see above). I don't know how I really feel about marriage as an institution sometimes but, I can't help but admire two people who've managed to make a life for themselves and stay committed to each other for so long, through the (really) bad and the good. Awesome.

Best.
Grandparents.
Ever.

Snoopy

So my cat had to be put down today. Snoopy, who I've had since I was seven and who always slept on my stomach or back or legs. I knew she wasn't as spry as she used to be but I really didn't see this coming. She really suffered last night and it was really hard to watch, being completely useless to make her feel better.

I think I kind of thought that I wouldn't be all weepy if Snoopy died. I don't know what lead me to this conclusion as I'm a crier. Books, movies, tv shows...like, not all the time or anything but, you know, enough. So I was totally crying this morning and then again when I was talking to my grandparents and my dad. The worst part is that I was crying on the way to the dentist this morning. As I have a strong dislike of my dentist and his minions, I didn't want them to see me all puffy eyed and vulnerable. I especially didn't want them thinking that I was all worked up over getting fillings.

Feeling much better in Guelph, hardly a tear at all. Subutron gave me a hug and Jo let me eat most of her cream horn (is it just my perverted brain or does that sound really dirty?) Giggling was had all around, example of our lunacy over here.

I'm so in love with Guelph right now. If you're in Guelph, feel free to hug me in the next couple of days. If you're a weirdo though, I reserve the right to dump a handful of sand down your crotch.

Yay! Olympics!

I wish the Olympics were on all the time.

I'm a sucker. The Olympics warm my heart. Pierre Lueders, the one on the right? Yeah, he cried when they won the silver medal. I might have cried a little, Deanna might have stared at me like I'd sprouted another head.

Item the second: Lescelles Brown? Totally a Jamaican bobsledder until 2002 when he started competing with Lueders. "Jamaica, we have a bobsled team." I never watched Cool Runnings. YOU watched Cool Runnings.

Item the last: I would totally be the meat in that sandwich. Just sayin'.

Dentist = Satan.

Well, it was as bad as I thought it would be. They really hate humans there. That's fine, we humans really hate them.

Also, I have two cavities. Apparently my life of crime has caught up with me. Crime means chocolate-eating.

Back to them next monday. Which means I'll be skipping class to get my stupid teeth filled. Meh, I've skipped class for less. (Hey Toni, want to stay up all night with me? Sure, why not. etc.) I think I'll let them fix me up and then plant some sort of bomb in the office. What? By bomb I mean incendiary device. Fine! I'll just give them a glaring of a lifetime.

I so wish I went to Jo's dentist. Everytime she goes she comes back and is all, "Oh Toni, my dentist is just dreamy. He tells me all these things about my teeth and when it's all done, he gives me a hug and a cookie." Stupid Jo with her friendly dentist, always rubbing it in my face.

Reading? Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson. I LOVE it. All the linguistics stuff about pronunciation and dialect differences was interesting but I found the history part especially awesome. Oh that Shakespeare. Seriously though, who's like, "hey, I want to write a bunch of stuff, I better make up a bajillion new words."?

Jo says she likes it. So there!

I've been going through the My Pictures folder on my step-dad's computer and thought I'd share a couple of goodies with you, gentle reader.

Firstly: Degas, he did good stuff. I know this picture has a real title, but it's saved on my computer as Degas23. I'd be very surprised if that was, in fact, the title. Any takers?



And now, another. I like it when boys take their shirts off, especially if they're Andrew Dan Jumbo



Finally: Jo, my platonic lifemate, dressed up as a candybar. You probably can't see it, but I tin-foiled that costume expertly. Jo did a pretty good job wearing it, I guess. Oh Sweet Addictions, you were a good dude.

Well, I probably won't post when I don't have internet access. Probably.

It's colder than a witches teat (teet?) here in good old Southern Ontario. I'm at home now, which means that all my extremities are freezing and I where blankets around all the time. I've painted my fingernails red in an attempt to fool my fingers into thinking they are, in fact, quite warm. My brilliant plan has failed miserably.

This house was built before the war of 1812. The war where Canada set the White House on fire. Mmmmm, that would warm my fingers up. The point is, there's actually no insulation in this house at all. Brian, miser that he is, won't turn the heat up. Fine. Don't want to waste money. You can pay for my finger-amputation operation.

Finished my DE paper. Did you know that immigrants in the nineteenth century had a hard boat ride over here? No, I swear it's true. Bah. Pointless paper. Tore me away from the Olympics.

That's how I plan on spending my week: watching the Olympics in my pajamas, eating well rounded meals and reading about the history of the English language. Not everyone can have a truly sexy life. I've managed it.

On tomorrow's agenda: Dentist appointment. I did the adult thing, made the appointment. I'm twenty-one, after all. I'm an adult. But they're totally going to scold me. I've had the same dentist since I was 4 or something and everytime I go, he scolds me. I don't have bad teeth, I know because once, in passing, he told me so. However, he's made going to the dentist the last thing I want to do. Well, the last thing I want to do is George Bush. So the second last thing.

Reading Week! A time for people to go to hot, exotic locales. Where am I going? Well, it's not hot and it's not exotic, I'll tell you that. But there will be people there that like to hug me and (hopefully) give me money.

Probably won't update much. Have a smashing week!

Winged Victory of Samothrace

So I constantly lose bookmarks. It's like my thing. My, what a boring 'thing' to have Toni, you might say. I might punch you in the box. Wow, that really escalated quickly.

The point is, I pick up random things in my room to use as bookmarks, rather than wasting money on them or using the one about Jesus. My grandma pushed it on me, convinced that I'm doomed to an eternity of hell because I'm agnostic...unless I use this bookmark, presumably.

See how I said, 'the point is' up there? Yeah, this is really the point: when I started reading Neverwhere I picked up this postcard that I bought at the louvre with this winged statue on it to use as my bookmark. Loved the statue. Liked the postcard a whole lot when I first got it and now, I can't stop looking at it. It's marble (naturally) and you can still see the way the wind moves the fabric around her body and she's striding towards something and the wings...It's all very good. I think I like the statue even better without the head and arms (they haven't found them yet). It doesn't seem incomplete, only more awesome.

In the course of looking for a picture to post here that would do justice to it the way the postcard does, I did a little research. Not real research, just Wikipedia, the kind shunned in any real academic setting. Apparently, it was discovered on some Greek island in 1863 and is thought to date from 220 BC - 190 BC and was for the bow of a victorious ship.

And now, the picture:

It's that time again!

The obligatory Toni-doesn't-want-to-do-schoolwork post. I just wrote an midterm. Do they really expect me to write another one? Gah. I'm a woman, that's all the qualification I need to do well on a midterm about Women's History in Europe. Right? RIGHT?

Fine, I'll read my notes. But I'm not going to be happy about it. If someone brought me a sandwich, that'd be nice. I'm awfully hungry and I didn't exactly have a good breakfast. Okay, I had a handful of nachos and some salsa for breakfast. And a glass of milk.

What?

The continuing saga of Toni and Susan

Susan -- that hurts
Toni- well, i'm a jerk
Susan -- and how!!
Toni- it's just easier that way...if i'm nice to you, you start getting "ideas"
Susan -- look, I've put the diary, the lock of your hair, that towel you dried your hands on that time, your old toothbrush you threw out, and several pairs of your underwear into a special box and had a burying ceremony for closure... what more do you want from me??
Toni- well...i want you to make it so i can go back in time so that i never ever knew that you had some of my underwear....alternatively, some brain bleach would work just fine...or even a hammer to my temple


Shut up. I'm very busy and important.

Pointless Picture Post

I've come to the conclusion that the real reason I like to blog is so I can post pictures. C'mon, at least act surprised.

I've always loved this one. We're backlit by the sun and thusly, look like angels. Which, as I'm sure you can tell from earlier entries, we surely are.

It always makes me feel warm. Particularly important as my toes are freezing at the moment. No, you put some socks on.

Not that I don't appreciate the thought Jesus...

But I've still got two midterms tomorrow. Couldn't you have sent a storm with a little more wrath-of-God? You know, just enough to keep the school closed an extra day but not so much that we can't venture out for supplies.

Thanks,
Toni Bank

p.s.-Seriously J.C., I don't have classes today anyway. It's kind of like you're mocking me.

What up Toni,

Yeah, sorry about the snowstorm. In my defense we do have a lot on our plate up here. Like your two midterms times a million billion. So if you think you can do a better job (and you become omnipotent, biatch) get your butt up here. Until then, try not to swear so much. And stop coveting Barb's hair, Susan's hot ass and Jo's...Jo.

Peace out,
Jesus

p.s.- We weren't kidding about that masturbation thing. Lay off. And tell your friends to do the same.

Don Cherry is your boyfriend.

Olympics

So I watched a bunch of skiing and short track speedskating instead of studying. I regret nothing. Have rediscovered my hatred of Brian Williams. Any of you watching the CBC covereage of the Olympics? Is Brian Williams not the biggest tool on the planet? Linds is convinced that he's hot for Don Cherry.

Seriously though Williams? No one in Canada was worried that Italy was going to defeat the Men's hockey. We're Canada. They're Italy. It's hockey, not soccer. In conclusion, shut up Brian Williams.

I love the internet.

First things first: At the cheap bookstore on campus, I bought a book about the cultural history of the penis. YAY! I looked but they didn't have a cultural history of the vagina. Either way, I have a book devoted to genitalia. Jealous? You're jealous.

Have you read anything by Neil Gaiman? Well, you should, especially Stardust. Found his blog today.

Have you been to London? You should go. They have this little thing called the Tube. Today I offer you a tube map that will be no help at all getting around London. It's the tube map of 20th Century music. Go forth!


Also: Carly made me giggle today, in card form. To wit:

Good day a.k.a. My hair is magical. Like Samson's.

-chocolate cake and orange juice from Market Fresh
-good marks from a professor who is "looking forward to reading my paper"
-money
-hours of quality Mel time in which we sexually harassed people we saw on tv/movies and high-fived.
-"I would touch Rupert Everett's bits if he would just let me." -Me.

What can I say? I'm a girl of simple tastes. It was another one of those awesome days where things go right and I'm filled with good will towards humanity. When I told Susan about my goodwill she was all, that's twice in like a month.

Weird.

p.s.- I'm tracing my good fortune to my hairdo. Any of you ever watch Sailor Moon? Of course not, me either. But remember how she had those two weird bun things on her head? Yeah, I had that working for me today. Only it looked good.

Hot Lips.

Don't have a Valentine, don't plan on getting on in the next ten hours unless that man trap I have in the backyard finally starts working. And even then, it's not going to be about hearts and roses as much as grabbing at bits. What? You knew what this was. Read the candy!

I kept forgetting that today was even something special. Maybe someday someone will sweep me off my feet and make Valentine's Day this special occasion but right now? Kinda put off by the whole thing.

This holdiay doesn't make me feel bad about being single. Strange? There are other random days where I'd like nothing more to come home, peel my gross winter clothes off and snuggle with someone taller and warmer than I. He'd smell good and wouldn't care that my feet weren't at their most smell-free after a day in running shoes. Point? I don't need a holiday to focus my occasional singleton angst

Mel's coming over tonight and we're going to eat a bunch of chocolate cake and watch the Corpse Bride. It's entirely possible that I'll end up in some sort of sugar induced coma.

It's going to be worth it.

Public Service Announcement.

If you like Jo, then I think there's something you'll like over here. *Significant wink*

We just hate pants.

This post started out as an excuse to share a google talk conversation that drunk!Jo and I just had but I realized that the whole thing wasn't nearly as funny if you don't know what drunk!Jo sounds like when she talks. Suffice to say, she was delighting in the fact that she wasn't wearing pants. "Don't you hate pants?" etc. That's like the number one thing we talk about when we're drunk or stoned...or completely sober.

So this has been quite the weekend for altered states of consciouness in our household. Barb had a pot fest yesterday and I'm not going to lie, I partook (is that even a word?). I don't usually but I was trying to avoid schoolwork. What better way to avoid it, I said to myself, than to make it so that you're thinking about the little people that live in the couch and not the Scottish diaspora? And lets face it, I'm defenseless against all the red hair. The bong, in case you're wondering (and who wouldn't be?), seems to be the ticket to getting me high. Throat still hurt like a bitch though.

I always look ridiculous when I'm smoking up with Barb. To preface: I didn't even get drunk until about 8 months ago as I'd avoided alcohol like the plague up to that point. Barb, on the other hand, has tried pot, e, GHB, shrooms and possibly acid. Thusly, Barb, the seasoned professional, hardly coughs at all. I, new to this bong device, coughed until there were tears. Smooth. s-m-o-o-t-h. Barb's all, practice makes perfect and I'm all, I just don't like weed that much. You know what doesn't take practice? Pouring things into a glass and drinking them.

This evening it was JoSuLin's turn. Alcohol was had. Pizza was ordered. The concotion that Jo and Susan drank can only be called Vile. Vodka, peach schnapps, blush wine and gatorade. The smell was horrifying. Maybe this is just crazy talk but unless they're made by a licensed professional, I generally want my drinks to contain no more than two things.

Art! Arty art art.

Jo's got a dig cam. She takes pictures. Sometimes I blow dry my hair. Sometimes she takes a bunch of pictures of me blow drying my hair. Some of them, entirely due to Jo's skill, are awesome. 

JAYLOR

Dear James and Taylor,

I never see you guys anymore! It's like, rough. I've seen pictures of you on Carly's livejournal so I know you still exist. You (collectively) should feel free to hunt me down and tackle me to express your affection.

Love,
Toni

Black coffee isn't your enemy.

Nothing at all of interest or note happened to me today. I wore my robe for a while, danced around in the livingroom for a bit and did a little grocery shopping. Left the house so I wouldn't feel like a sad sack because I totally skipped my seminars today. I just hate pointless seminars.

I visited Chapters while I was out. I was astonished to learn, back in the summer, that you could grab any book off the shelf at Chapters and just sit and read it without buying it. Apparently everyone knew this. Apparently I was the only one who didn't get the memo. The point is, I read The Davinci Code that way, visiting it when I wasn't busy. Then I started reading (visiting) The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. It's longer than the bible, which isn't really a problem for me but it's also boring. Which is. (Grammar at its shoddiest!) But now I can't stop because I'm 404 pages in. I kept reading thinking that it had to pick up sometime but it's been particularly contrary.

Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman is a different story. While I'm not enjoying it as much as I did Stardust or American Gods, it's still awesome. And set in London. I really can't resist any movie or book set there. Love Actually= particularly embarassing example.

Still reading Flag in Exile but I'm not getting through it very quickly because I tend to read it when I can't sleep and I haven't had any attacks of insomnia lately. Which is definitely goodly. I even got to sleep before 4 AM last night! This = accomplishment.

Everyone seen the Ultimate Showdown? If not, go forth and laugh. I downloaded the song and now it's the only thing I want to listen to. Makes me want to open a can of Shaq-fu on all of you. A loving can.

I wish we could open our eyes to see in all directions at the same time

The recent closure of Jowanistan has me thinking about blogging. Jo certainly misses it and I know I would if I had to stop doing it. I'm not entirely sure why though. Mostly because I can't really figure out why I blog in the first place. I'm fairly certain that, beyond a few people (who are certainly the cream of the....uh, people crop) who I'd tell this stuff to anyway, no one reads this. And I'm fine with that. I was fine when I thought it was only Susan reading it. Not that I don't like the thought that a link I've posted or something I've written makes someone giggle/want to cuddle (with me). Of course I do! And that's certainly part of the reason I blog.

For the most part my entries are topical and have little to say about my innermost thoughts. Tonight for example, I was going to write about how much Alicia makes me giggle and that I brought fudge home. That second one was mostly because I wanted to say how popular it made me with the roommates. And THAT was mostly because I wanted to call them Fudge Sluts.

And I'm not doing it to polish any sort of writing skillz. Nonexistent skills. Like, I can string a sentence together, but no one's going to read anything I write and be all "Crikey, that Toni knows her stuff. She's eloquent! Let me buy her dinner!" Especially not that last one.

One theory floating around my brain pan is that I blog because I'm trying desperately to hold onto to 'right now'. Like, right now I'm living with 4 people that I love and I'm (mostly) succeeding academically and not living with my family and learning new things about myself all the time and walking around in my robe A LOT and hanging out with a bunch of cool people (like you, dear reader). 'Right now', by it's very nature, isn't going to last forever. In fact, I've only got a couple of months left of living with my Brothelmates. I think I'm blogging so that someday, when things aren't as good as they are 'right now' I can look back and see what made me giggle, what made me happy, what I thought was cool.

Is that sad?

Retro picture post.

Place: Disneyland
Era: 60s, 70s...who knows?
Clothes: awesome!

My grandma is in an awesome pantsuit. She's the orange one in the middle. Her mom, my nana is on the end in the blue. I only wish that someday I'll have a sweet pantsuit like that. 

Barb let me use his scanner. Clearly a bad idea.

This is my favourite picture of me and my dad ever. Look at how cute baby Toni is. Check out my dad's 'stache. You're jealous.

A note to jerks.

Dear Stupid Girl sitting behind me in Britain since 1600,

I've heard you talking with your thick-necked friends before class and suspected you were a moron. But I thought, hey, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, I bet people think I'm a dumb bitch sometimes too.

However, you've confirmed beyond all doubt that you and I are never going to be BFF (and not only because I've promised to be the BFF of about 13 people now).

A word of advice: Bear baiting WAS a cruel sport. Tying a bear to a post and letting dogs attack? Yeah, no one thinks that's cute or endearing. That's why it DOESN'T OCCUR ANYMORE. There's been no bear baiting for at least a hundred years now. Therefore, please refrain from making you stupid awwwww poor bear noise when the professor is trying to make a point about Augustan cruelty. I don't care if you want to lick bears all over. Keep it to your fucking self. Just because the rest of us weren't expressing our disgust out loud doesn't mean that we weren't feeling it. THAT'S WHY THE PROFESSOR PUT IT UNDER THE CRUELTY HEADING OF THE LECTURE.

Numero Duo: If you're so against bear baiting, why does the notion of skimmington make you giggle so much? Tying humans to a pole and carrying them through town before tossing them on the ground outside town, possibly leaving them tied to the pole isn't particularly funny. You know what else isn't funny? The fact that Jews in the Augustan age were persecuted because they were blamed for the death of Christ. Neither of these historical realities warranted your giggles.

In the future, if you'd like your head to remain unpunched you can a) stop being a stupid bitch or b) stop attending class with me.

I feel like b is probably the easier option for you.

Love,
Toni

I love it when Jo's in tech week.

She's dead tired and cursing the day she was born. But she makes me giggle, 'cause I delight in her pain, 'cause I'm a bad person.

Can you blame me?
Jo: Toni I think I've got the ebola.
Jo (looking at her legs): It looks like I was playing hockey naked again.

Dammit toni, I miss your musk!!

Sometimes I think that everyone in the world is in love with me but no one will 'fess up. Are you? C'mon! You can tell me! Susan already has:

This picture started it all:















Susan: haha... you're so suspicious
Toni: and a little angry
Susan: and... turned on?? no?? I'm reading too much into that?? just me??
Toni: yes, just you...that's our problem...i give you a hearty handshake now and again and you're all..."*sigh* Dear Diary, today Toni told me she loved me. Well, she didn't like, say the words but I could feel it in her handshake. It was so hearty."


Later--
Susan: am I hearing things??
Toni: yes
Toni: because of the crazies
Susan: dammit!!
Toni: well, you know...you could start taking your pills again
Toni: just maybe
Susan: NEVER
Toni: *sigh* i knew it was too much to hope for
Susan: those pills are part of a government conspiracy to kill me
Toni: *double sigh* is it time for me to get the tinfoil so you can wrap your head up?
Susan: yes please
Toni: i don't know why i help you with this
Susan: well, in my diary it says it's because you secretly love me

Elroy, a tribute.

Apropos of nothing, Lin-dizzle came up to my room and said to me (reading from a post it pad):

You know, I just don't get you Toni. You used to be into all this girl stuff. Stealing, boxing, blowing shit up and now you're like this little priss with a conscience. It's really a fucking drag.

Then she explained that this was a quote from Jay and Silent Bob.

I may have to have Lindz's children.

That is all.

On engagements and impending nuptials

Just got an email from one of my good friends from highschool and she told me that she just got engaged. Engaged! I'm really excited for her. She's been with her fiancee since the end of highschool and I know it's what she's always dreamed about.

This is incredibly cliche, but I can't help but think: Holy Crap, my friend's getting married! I mean, Shauna's one of my oldest friends. Right from grade nine. I remember when she wore her hair in pigtails all the time and had that horrible blue leopard print purse. (In case she's reading this: Sorry Shauna, but that purse was a train wreck...not unlike that bunny backpack/purse that I had in grade nine). I remember going to New York with Shauna and Sheri-Ann and Isabella in OAC and falling asleep during a Broadway show and tearing through that outlet mall in New Jersey like the idiots we were (still are). Now she's taking this huge, adult step. AND she's going to be done teacher's college this year and starting her career. She's definitely got the adult-life-thing started.

As I've said to SuJoBarb many a time, I can't even contemplate making a committment like that right now. Obviously, this is partly because I don't have a partner to become engaged to at this juncture. Beyond that though, I feel like I have so much more to learn about myself before I legally burden someone else with my idiosyncracies. And, despite the high occurance of divorce and unhappy marriages in my family, the romantic part of me imagines that my marriage will last. Something along the lines of Dr. and Mrs. Huxtable, only sexier and with less children.

Jo and Toni: GERSHWIN!
Jo: You know, I always thought that was a type of pickle.

Susan is looking on in dismay.

Addendum

I never used to drink orange juice, I really didn't like it. Then I needed something to mix vodka with and began drinking it on a semi-regular basis. Sitting here drinking it makes me think of every time I've ever been inebriated. I think I've cocked this up somehow.

Today

Don't tell anyone, but I haven't gone to my Monday classes in like three weeks. STOP JUDGING ME. There were a variety of good and not-so-good reasons. Anyway, the point is, I went today and I'm really happy I did.

Things I learned:
-the whole Mary-is-a-virgin thing wasn't official Catholic doctrine until Pope Pius IX said it was so in 1854, although it had been part of peasant folklore for much longer.
-stigmata is gross looking
-Britain was the bomb in the 18th century (and, frankly, continues to be). I'm going to build a time machine so I can go live during that period, possibly in one of the newfangled Georgian cottages.
- quote from my professor: "If there's one thing you can say about the English during this period it's that they liked roast beef and hated everything French." There was, in fact a song about it. AND MY PROF SANG IT:

1. When mighty Roast Beef
Was the Englishman's food,
It ennobled our brains
And enriched our blood.
Our soldiers were brave
And our courtiers were good
Oh the Roast Beef of old England
And old English Roast Beef

2. But since we have learnt
From all-vapouring France
To eat their ragouts
As well as to dance,
We're fed up with nothing
But vain complaisance
Oh the Roast Beef of Old England
And old English Roast Beef

True. To. Life. Friends.

What I ate:
-nothing until 4 p.m. then antijitos and coffee
-then Chinese food
-now pulp-free orange juice straight from the carton.

Plan of attack for this evening:
-finish 4710 presentation summary
-finish 4710 article summary
-read Flag in Exile
-possibly watch bits of brokeback mountain but not the bad stuff...only the stuff that leads me to believe they will be happy for all eternity...'cause there's nothing sadder than Toni sitting in her room crying over a movie. Except, possibly, a clown dying.

I knew it was coming and Brokeback Mountain still broke my heart.

Nothing hotter than a bucket of Jo and Susan. That's right. Except for a big ol' pile of Toni and Barb!!!! I'm massaging his brain's cavity so Major Barb can go capture us something shiny. 

There's nothing hotter than a bucket of Susan and Jo. Anyone that says otherwise is a lying skin donkey. 

Tall Susan, short Toni.

This is true to life. Also, Susan's a swashbuckler.

Vaginas

Went to see the Vagina Monologues yesterday. LOVED. I said it already, but I think this year's 'Logues are the best I've seen. That may have been partly due to the fact that I was sandwiched between Marieke and Barb, two people that I love. Also because one of my hetero life mates was awesome in her towel. Still! The quality of the show cannot be faulted.

The thing is, when I go to see it, despite the fact that some of it is too arty for my sensibilities, I totally buy into it. I'm all, yes! Vaginas! Woot! I DO feel empowered. I don't know if I necessarily feel that my-vagina-is-me sensibility but, you know, I'm proud to be a lady.

Instead of sleeping after the party I decided it was time to read reviews of other Vagina Monologue performances and I came across this (beware, there is a vagina! picture if you follow this picture) article. The author, a leader of one of the 'vagina seminars' that's discussed in one of the monologues, doesn't like the fact that the Monologues focuses on issues of violence against women rather than simply promoting sexual pleasure for women.

To me the point of the Monologues is both. I'm supposed to embrace my own vagina (although, presumably, not literally) and the pleasure that can come from it as well as a sense of female empowerment. However, I'm also supposed to leave with an awareness of the fact that, all around the world, being a woman entails certain dangers.

Enough of that.

P.S.

I'll be the one in the black cardigan with the black bra, probably snuggling with Taylor or possibly rubbing the redhead's head. And I'll almost certainly be yelling. A lot.

Dear Boy of my Dreams,

We are having a party this evening and it occurs to me that it would be a particularly good evening for you to make an appearance for the following reasons:

1) The house will be clean.
2) I will be extra clean.
3) I will be rather drunk.
4) I like to paw at people when I'm drunk (ie. You, Dreamboy)


Please have dark hair and light eyes and be tall and have some cool glasses, kthanx.

Love,
Toni

He was born and raised to rule. No one has ever been this cool.

Why is singing in the shower so awesome? I really don't sound any better than I usually do. Not unlike some sort of strangled goat, methinks. And it's never one song. I have the memory of a goldfish and can't actually remember entire songs when I get into the shower. Thus:

Today's Shower Mix-
Don't You Know by Della Reese
Marching Band of Manhattan by Death Cab
That's Just the Way it Is by Bruce Hornsby (totally Barb's fault)
Cusco's theme song from the Emperor's New Groove by Tom Jones

The most recent entry at Taylor and Jame's b-log made me think about the people that try to talk to me in my history classes. I'm pretty sure that I project a sort of dour-hate-life-and-people-look when I'm not around (let's face it) drama students, so I don't really understand all the people trying to talk to Toni.

There was one girl in my Women and Modern Europe class that decided to make me her small talk buddy. Barf. And proceeded to talk to me while we were waiting for class to start, despite the fact that I was CLEARLY reading. "Yes loser, my hoodie does say Lambton on it. Suprisingly that doesn't mean I want to hear all about your experience in residence. Whorebag."

I think we've broken up though, because I've skipped a bunch of those classes recently and she was totally talking to someone else yesterday and possibly shooting me the evil eye. Up your nose with a rubber hose!