I have an hour

December 11, 2010

between my Philosophy tutorial and my Philosophy lecture on Wednesdays.

Usually, this group of girls and I go out for coffee at this one Tim Hortons but, for some reason, we all decided to go our separate ways and then meet up again so we could all sit together during the lecture.

Yeah, we’re THAT group. That group that always sits together and swoons over how delicious the prof is.

Okay, scratch that. We don’t actually swoon.

Okay, so we do.

Not even because he’s particularly good-looking or whatever, but just because he once said ‘OKAY’ 52 times in one one-hour lecture.

What a great man.

ANWYAY…

While some of the girls went to the libraries and some probably went back to residence, I decided to go to the Northrop Frye building and catch up on some of my readings. The great thing about NF is that there’s this delightful little area with ridiculously comfortable couches and, if you happen to come at the right time, you can actually get a spot on one of them. AND IT JUST SO HAPPENED THAT I CAME AT PRECISELY THE RIGHT TIME.

There was a full couch. JUST FOR ME.

I dove onto that couch. It was magical.

So after I spread out all my things on the table in front of me and got comfortable, I began to do my readings.

Then, this other girl came and sat next to me, on the other end of the couch.

Fine. I didn’t have the couch to myself anymore, but I didn’t mind sharing. I’m considerate that way. So I continued my readings.

That is when a sexy man moseyed on in to the couch area and started looking for somewhere to sit. BUT ALL OF THE COUCHES AND CHAIRS WHERE BEING OCCUPIED. There was only one spot left.

The spot between me and this girl.

He took the spot. He then proceeded to pull out a crossword puzzle and start filling in the little white squares.

I swooned.

And then I finished my readings and, since I didn’t have anything better to do, I just sat there playing around with my phone. Which sucks, by the way. My phone is just the worst phone ever.

THEN, THE BEST THING EVER HAPPENED.

This random Indian girl decided that it would be a great idea to come over to our couch and say:

RIG: EXCUSE ME.

The three of us on the couch looked up.

… excuse her what?

We then realized that she wanted to sit down.

So the sexy man proceeded to squish his sexy body against mine to make room for the random Indian girl.

I swooned.

Again.

The Indian girl sat down.

The girl at the other end of the couch got up and left because she was clearly uncomfortable.

The Indian girl did not move.

So the sexy man stayed squished against me.

Then, the Indian girl decided it would be a good idea to turn to the sexy man and say:

RIG: ghogsomumbledgnjsdg.

Sexy Man: I’m sorry, what?

THEN, SHE SCREAMED:

RIG: YOU HAVE A REALLY NICE HAIRSTYLE, WHAT’S YOUR NAME?

Everyone in the couch area looked up in shock and stared at the guy’s hair. (It WAS a very nice hairstyle though…)

SM: Uhhhhhh… thanks, my name’s _______.

Then the Indian girl just got up and left. But she left all of her bags on the ground at the foot of the couch.

The sexy man shifted away from me, and then turned to me, shocked.:

SM: DID YOU JUST HEAR WHAT SHE ASKED ME?!

And I responded, ever so smoothly:

Me: … well, you DO have nice hair.

We then proceeded to talk for the next fifteen minutes.

Sexy men love me.

I don’t think the Indian girl ever did come back for her stuff.

My Project

November 19, 2010

Check it out!

http://thesubwayproject.wordpress.com

Dear U of T,

November 14, 2010

I know I’m paying you to teach me stuff, but sometimes I just get so bored in lectures.

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Hooray! I’m

November 12, 2010

BACK. WITH A VENGEANCE. But not really. Just back. With more stories.

HUZZAH, HUZZAH.

So, last night I had a lecture from 6-8pm. I don’t really enjoy night classes, but then again, I don’t really have much of a life so it’s not like I’m missing out on anything. I just get tired. And restless.

HOWEVER, it’s a good thing I have one of my roommates and one of my high school friends in that lecture with me!

OH WAIT A SECOND. That’s right. They didn’t bother going last night.

So there I was, by myself, in a room with 1200 other students, waiting for class to start. I sat in an aisle seat. I always sit in an aisle seat.

There was one seat between this kind-of-strange-looking guy and I, and I was happy with this. ‘Great,’ I thought to myself. ‘I have my only private little area. How pleasant.’ It was just as I thought this that I hear a voice quietly ask, ‘excuse me, is anybody sitting there?’

Damnit.

OUT OF ALL THE FREE SEATS IN CONVOCATION HALL, YOU CHOOSE TO SIT RIGHT BESIDE ME?! THE NERVE. But not really. She seemed nice enough, so I moved a bit for her to get by and she sat in between kind-of-strange-looking guy and I.

And then the lecture started.

Now, the thing you have to know about this lecturer is that he is actually the most monotone individual I have ever had to listen to. I kid you not. This man is like Microsoft Sam. No, scratch that. At least Microsoft Sam’s voice goes up and down.
But anyway, when I get bored, I eat.

A lot.

So as soon as he started talking, I decided to pull out my enormous cylindrical tin of raisins and my tumbler of hot chocolate (with vegan marshmallows).

Sip sip sip. Chomp chomp chomp.

MMMMMM, muy deliciosa.

Because it’s a two hour lecture, we get about a 10 minute break after the first hour. I had been typing furiously to try to keep up with the PowerPoint slides and eating raisins like a madwoman, so I welcomed the break. I put my computer screen down and started to look around the room.

It was then that I realized that there was a raisin at my feet. Oh, well, messes happen! I picked up the raisin and put it in my bag so I could throw it out. Yes, I’m THAT kind of person. I’m pretty sure people watching were thinking to themselves something along the lines of, ‘OH MY GOD, THAT GIRL IS SAVING THAT RAISIN FOR LATER, SHE’S SO GROSS.’ Whatever. Maybe I DID eat that raisin later. Maybe I didn’t. You’ll never know the truth.

Anyway, after I picked the raisin up off the ground, I continued to look around the room.

My eyes reached the girl beside me.

I looked at her, up and down.

That was when I realized, that there was a raisin on her lap.

And beside her feet.

And there was one tiny raisin resting on the armrest between us.

I quickly started to pick up the raisins on the armrest and the floor and put them in my bag with the other raisin. I then turned to her and boldly informed her, ‘YOU HAVE A RAISIN ON YOUR LAP’. However, it came out a little louder than I had hoped. The entire little section in which we were sitting fell silent for a moment. I looked around at the spectators, awkwardly. They resumed their conversations. Then the girl beside me replied, in a bored voice, ‘I know.’

‘Was that my raisin?’

‘Yes.’

‘… how did it get there?’

‘There have been raisins continuously landing on me for the past hour.’

It was then that I saw the small pile of raisins beside her other foot (the one farther away from me) that she had been collecting throughout the first half of the lecture.

I looked down at the raisins.

I looked up at the girl beside me, horrified.

‘OH MY GOD, I AM SO SORRY, ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO RAISINS?’

‘… no.’

‘OH, THANK GOD, I AM SO SORRY.’

And then she laughed. Like a maniac.

And I started to laugh. Like a maniac.

And the entire time this conversation had been taking place, kind-of-strange-looking guy had been laughing. Like a maniac.

WHY EVERYONE SHOULD MOVE TO TORONTO RIGHT NOW.

September 19, 2010

It's a really big clock.

WHHHATTT?! (Something I Found From Writer’s Craft…)

August 1, 2010

The only light comes from a streetlamp at the intersection of two walkways, where a lone figure stands. The man appears to be waiting for something.
He is alone and he stares at the pavement, as though he is hoping that something will reveal itself to him in the cold, hard ground. He stares for a long while.

Nothing changes.

The footpath remains a footpath.

It is just a slab of concrete.
The night is still; there is no wind. The sweet smell of tobacco fills the air as, cigarette after cigarette, he smokes until he feels the tar begin to coat his lungs and a cancer begin to develop. The smoke trails its way up, encircling his head, resembling a halo. The man, dressed in black denim trousers and warmed by a form-fitting black leather jacket and matching gloves, is anything but angelic.
It is cold. The temperature has caused the rodents to retreat to hibernation – eliminating the sounds of scampering paws – and the bugs have disappeared, as they do at the beginning of every winter. There is only the man – the man and the sound of his taking another drag from his cigarette.
A thick blanket of clouds floats between the people of earth and the stars, shielding the universe from view. It is this kind of night that makes the man feel as though he is the only one left in the world – as though everyone else is no more than a faded memory. For the first time in his life, he feels truly at peace with that around him.
The etched lines under his eyes indicate that he has endured much in his short life. He looks older than he is. Old and tired, as though he has not slept for a number of days. The stubble on his chin has begun to form a beard. The course dark hair is ungroomed. The man, however, appears indifferent towards this matter. He appears indifferent towards everything.

Right now, there is nothing more to life than this – a man and his cigarette.
A snowflake falls. The man remains indifferent.

Funny Thing My Grandmother Said #1

July 18, 2010

Dad: So, I was watching this show on Armageddon this afternoon. The world’s going to end.

Grandma: Oh, and when will this take place?

Dad: December 21, 2012.

Grandma: For Heaven’s sake, I won’t be able to see my Christmas cactus grow!

You know

July 16, 2010

what’s really great?

Licks.

Licks burgers. (Well, NATURE burgers, seeing as I have cut meat out of my diet.)

Licks everything.

LICKS LICKS LICKS.

For those of you that haven’t been, you should go. I used to work there, you know. And if Leah used to work there, you know it must be t0p-quality food you receive. Make sure you ask for the ketchup in a smiley face. And mustard eyeballs. And an onion mustache. With lettuce hair/eyebrows. That’s how my burgers are done and that’s how you should have your burger done. OM NOM NOM. Delicious.

BUT ANYWAY.

I go to Licks a lot. Like, A LOT. Usually, my only friend comes with me and we sit in the booths and talk and people watch.

So this one time, we were just sitting there after we finished our meals and our conversation began to die. So, looking for more things to talk about, we both start scanning the dining area. That’s when we see the following take place:

A minivan drove up to the front of Licks and a woman emerged from the front passenger door. She seemed anxious, nervously looking both ways before she broke out into a sprint towards the restaurant’s front door. As she ran into it full force, the door flew open.

She had clearly been in Licks before, as she immediately turned towards her destination – the table that held the forks and knives.

(Now, the thing you have to realize about Licks is that the workers are usually pretty good about refilling things like napkins and knives and forks. The holders for the knives and forks are almost always full, if not overflowing with the plastic utensils.)

My only friend and I watched the woman in confusion.

Without breaking her sprint, she reached the table in no more than a couple seconds.

She then proceeded to grab EVERY SINGLE FORK IN THE HOLDER WITH ONE HAND, shove them in her purse, and sprint out, back to the minivan which waited for her where it had dropped her off.

The entire ordeal literally took no more than twenty seconds. They must have rehearsed their plan for hours before putting it into action.

So I can now say that I was a witness to what was, quite possibly, the most dramatic fork theft in all of history.

Funny Thing My Sister Said #1

July 15, 2010

Leah: The pool is so nice.

Sister: I THINK THEY’RE STUPID.

Leah: …what?

Sister: Poodles?

Funny Thing My Mom Said #1

July 11, 2010

Mom: Daughter, are you home?

Sister: (from the other room) I’M WATCHING A HOOTERS COMPETITION!

Mom: You’re competing in a Hooters competition? You couldn’t win a Hooter’s competition!


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.