Oh hey there, I'm just taking a break from working on my William Brown shrine to write a few things about the mysterious land of dreams - occasionally nightmares - better known as Canadia.
I would like to greet all the people reading this in Russia...and also ask the question..why are people reading this in Russia? What possible interest could this have to anybody apart from me and the procrastinators I like to call acquaintances (I don't want to come on too strong). But each to their own I suppose..pour yourself a glass of Wodka and let's begin.
A wise man once said to me "I want to read more about Canada. UPDATE FAGGOT " and these words were so sweet and heartfelt that I decided to oblige as best I could. Although if he hopes to learn more about Canada..he has certainly come to the wrong place.
The last few weeks have been a mixture of essay writing, procrastination and intense napping with a few things worthy of being called 'events' happening inbetween.
The most memorable (I'm currently watching some confusing Japanese film that has turned my brain to mush and made me doubt my own memories) event was Nancy's visit. Everything was going pretty swell apart from the obvious and grotesque jokes made by some of the guys on the floor...I'm pretty sure I heard the word 'scissoring' more times in the 5 days she was here than I have heard in my life time. Things turned from socially awkward to wholly unpleasant though on the thursday night where she was attacked by mystery pains. Jess awoke me at 8 o clock in the morning which my body confused with 4am as I cleverly picked no morning classes this term. I didn't know what to do so I helpfully suggested things that would help ease the pain if we had them...which we didn't. In my morning daze I returned to my slumber, but I was punished for my lack of helpful suggestions as I found myself trapped in a horrible dream cycle (SEE TOM! You are really going to learn NOTHING about Canada here) in which I knew I was dreaming and kept waking up and finding myself in another dream etc etc This happened about 10 times in my dream before I woke up for real and found myself doubting what was real and what was a dream. Nancy was writhing in pain in the next room and my understanding of the world was being destroyed - it wasn't a great start to the day. Luckily the campus health people came over to check Nancy out (her injuries, nothing untoward. It would have been inappropriate). Unluckily they lacked the medical knowledge/qualifications to do anything, so after asking her on a scale of 1-10 how bad was the pain they decided to call the ambulance. They meant well but their methods reminded me of this:
- Comical when on television, but in real life it was a bit tedious I've got to say.
Anyway, we got to the hospital in the end and Canada decided it was going to rival the NHS by seeing just how slow they could be. The emergency room was a highly ironic term. A highlight of the day was when a taxi driver brought in a man in the back of his taxi who was slowly turning blue and breathing lightly through a paper bag. The staff were pretty blasé about the whole affair and just wheeled him on in and left him on his own against a wall for a while. The hospital lacked good bedside manner...but I suppose that is because very few people got a bad. I think you would have to have a bullet in your head to actually get seen to within 3 years of arrival. But ho-hum it all worked out ok in the end and Nancy even snagged a free vomibag! Swings and roundabouts...swings and roundabouts.
Life hasn't been all doom, gloom and vomibags though. On thursday it was the Illumination ceremony at Parliament Hill. If you don't know Parliament Hill - it is a small elevated area where Parliament is. It wasn't REALLY exciting like a room full of kittens wearing party hats, but it was still pleasant. There were singing children, beaver tails and Montreal Jazz sensation Nadja!! I'd never heard of Nadja before..and having heard her sing I find it unlikely that I'll ever want to hear of her again. She wasn't bad like a room full of dead kittens wearing party hats, but I could still probably cope without her the rest of my life - which right now, as exams draw near, I can feel it passing by. Minute by minute, nyan cat game by nyan cat game. Anyway, yeah the lights. My favourite part was the candles in little cups things. As the lights were switched on and Nadja was belting out her smooth Montreal tones everyone waved their candles in unison and just for a second I thought I was starring in Love Actually and that Hugh Grant was going to start doing a cheesy, but damn heartfelt voice over. Unfortunately this wasn't the case and instead we got a pleasant fireworks display...although the fireworks made the actual lights fairly anticlimactic. They announced that Ottawa would light up when they hit the button - then came the awkward moment where they hit the button and everyone's head turned only to see that it looked exactly the blooming same. There were some lights. Some normal, cheap looking fairy lights on leafless trees. The lights were supposed to represent the holiday and togetherness and love and family, but all they actually seemed to say was "We really couldn't be bothered to put too much effort into this."
We decided to afterwards lower the tone of what had until then been a reasonably pleasant evening by checking out the hen party section in one of the shops in the shopping centre. I've never really needed slippers that look like breasts, but now that I've seen them, I feel that my life would be incomplete without them. There was also a book of sex coupons that you could out to people, but I thought it would be unfair to purchase them as there are more guys waiting for a piece of Kate action then there were coupons in the book. I bought a tshirt with lots of cats which pretty much sealed the deal and secured my spot as the most desirable babe this side of the Atlantic.
Apart from that life has lacked a little bit of...life. I've written possibly some of the worst essays of my life as I decided to finish the year on a low..but as there are people here who can't spell words like 'horse' or know how to go one whole class without playing solitaire I'm not too concerned. And even if I do fuck up it should snow more soon..swings and roundabouts (say it enough and it means nothing). Anyway, I should probably go and attend to my ever exciting social life. It's just me, broccoli and a one legged vegetable.
Not long until this term is all over though and I can go to Miami and ride dolphins around every day - although I get the feeling I may have set my disappointment once again. Note to self - riding animals around everyday isn't going to happen. Ever. Except maybe a horse, but horses are rubbish.
Well, I've rambled enough for the time being so I'm going to make like a banana and do nothing.
Oh, and if you are free at 12.30 on monday, I advise you not to go to the Architecture Pit as the power of my amazing acting skills will probably melt your eyes and ears.
Peace, love and polar bears
Katharine
I would like to greet all the people reading this in Russia...and also ask the question..why are people reading this in Russia? What possible interest could this have to anybody apart from me and the procrastinators I like to call acquaintances (I don't want to come on too strong). But each to their own I suppose..pour yourself a glass of Wodka and let's begin.
A wise man once said to me "I want to read more about Canada. UPDATE FAGGOT " and these words were so sweet and heartfelt that I decided to oblige as best I could. Although if he hopes to learn more about Canada..he has certainly come to the wrong place.
The last few weeks have been a mixture of essay writing, procrastination and intense napping with a few things worthy of being called 'events' happening inbetween.
The most memorable (I'm currently watching some confusing Japanese film that has turned my brain to mush and made me doubt my own memories) event was Nancy's visit. Everything was going pretty swell apart from the obvious and grotesque jokes made by some of the guys on the floor...I'm pretty sure I heard the word 'scissoring' more times in the 5 days she was here than I have heard in my life time. Things turned from socially awkward to wholly unpleasant though on the thursday night where she was attacked by mystery pains. Jess awoke me at 8 o clock in the morning which my body confused with 4am as I cleverly picked no morning classes this term. I didn't know what to do so I helpfully suggested things that would help ease the pain if we had them...which we didn't. In my morning daze I returned to my slumber, but I was punished for my lack of helpful suggestions as I found myself trapped in a horrible dream cycle (SEE TOM! You are really going to learn NOTHING about Canada here) in which I knew I was dreaming and kept waking up and finding myself in another dream etc etc This happened about 10 times in my dream before I woke up for real and found myself doubting what was real and what was a dream. Nancy was writhing in pain in the next room and my understanding of the world was being destroyed - it wasn't a great start to the day. Luckily the campus health people came over to check Nancy out (her injuries, nothing untoward. It would have been inappropriate). Unluckily they lacked the medical knowledge/qualifications to do anything, so after asking her on a scale of 1-10 how bad was the pain they decided to call the ambulance. They meant well but their methods reminded me of this:
- Comical when on television, but in real life it was a bit tedious I've got to say.
Anyway, we got to the hospital in the end and Canada decided it was going to rival the NHS by seeing just how slow they could be. The emergency room was a highly ironic term. A highlight of the day was when a taxi driver brought in a man in the back of his taxi who was slowly turning blue and breathing lightly through a paper bag. The staff were pretty blasé about the whole affair and just wheeled him on in and left him on his own against a wall for a while. The hospital lacked good bedside manner...but I suppose that is because very few people got a bad. I think you would have to have a bullet in your head to actually get seen to within 3 years of arrival. But ho-hum it all worked out ok in the end and Nancy even snagged a free vomibag! Swings and roundabouts...swings and roundabouts.
Life hasn't been all doom, gloom and vomibags though. On thursday it was the Illumination ceremony at Parliament Hill. If you don't know Parliament Hill - it is a small elevated area where Parliament is. It wasn't REALLY exciting like a room full of kittens wearing party hats, but it was still pleasant. There were singing children, beaver tails and Montreal Jazz sensation Nadja!! I'd never heard of Nadja before..and having heard her sing I find it unlikely that I'll ever want to hear of her again. She wasn't bad like a room full of dead kittens wearing party hats, but I could still probably cope without her the rest of my life - which right now, as exams draw near, I can feel it passing by. Minute by minute, nyan cat game by nyan cat game. Anyway, yeah the lights. My favourite part was the candles in little cups things. As the lights were switched on and Nadja was belting out her smooth Montreal tones everyone waved their candles in unison and just for a second I thought I was starring in Love Actually and that Hugh Grant was going to start doing a cheesy, but damn heartfelt voice over. Unfortunately this wasn't the case and instead we got a pleasant fireworks display...although the fireworks made the actual lights fairly anticlimactic. They announced that Ottawa would light up when they hit the button - then came the awkward moment where they hit the button and everyone's head turned only to see that it looked exactly the blooming same. There were some lights. Some normal, cheap looking fairy lights on leafless trees. The lights were supposed to represent the holiday and togetherness and love and family, but all they actually seemed to say was "We really couldn't be bothered to put too much effort into this."
o
It was all a bit too much for Will though whose nose began to bleed in a state of unquestionable joy. I assume. We decided to afterwards lower the tone of what had until then been a reasonably pleasant evening by checking out the hen party section in one of the shops in the shopping centre. I've never really needed slippers that look like breasts, but now that I've seen them, I feel that my life would be incomplete without them. There was also a book of sex coupons that you could out to people, but I thought it would be unfair to purchase them as there are more guys waiting for a piece of Kate action then there were coupons in the book. I bought a tshirt with lots of cats which pretty much sealed the deal and secured my spot as the most desirable babe this side of the Atlantic.
Apart from that life has lacked a little bit of...life. I've written possibly some of the worst essays of my life as I decided to finish the year on a low..but as there are people here who can't spell words like 'horse' or know how to go one whole class without playing solitaire I'm not too concerned. And even if I do fuck up it should snow more soon..swings and roundabouts (say it enough and it means nothing). Anyway, I should probably go and attend to my ever exciting social life. It's just me, broccoli and a one legged vegetable.
Not long until this term is all over though and I can go to Miami and ride dolphins around every day - although I get the feeling I may have set my disappointment once again. Note to self - riding animals around everyday isn't going to happen. Ever. Except maybe a horse, but horses are rubbish.
Well, I've rambled enough for the time being so I'm going to make like a banana and do nothing.
Oh, and if you are free at 12.30 on monday, I advise you not to go to the Architecture Pit as the power of my amazing acting skills will probably melt your eyes and ears.
Peace, love and polar bears
Katharine
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