Merry Yuletide, Everyone!

What helps boost Emily's christmas spirit?
Well, a Wacom Intuos 3 graphics tablet, for one.
But seriously folks, it's been great. Good food, warm bed, fuzzy pajamas, a 'first christmas' for everyone in this new family of ours. I'm also looking forward to watching Victor/Victoria which I now own, thanks to my l'il bro.
Also took a nice long walk along the lakeshore today with dad and Sandy, and discovered the spot where the Keswick Polar Bear club meets. Oh crazy nude men splashing playfully in cold water, what would we do without you.

melencholy

I'm sitting on the pull-out couch in the room made of glass, makeshift curtains casting shadows on the keyboard. Hunching over the computer is doing nothing for my posture/back problems, but so be it. I can see unexplained bruises on my bare legs, and the scent of the shower still clings to them, and suddenly I'm witness to a barrage of scent-induced memories.
And here's my first blog post from sunny Keswick.
Actually, it rained today, and I took a walk out on the lake despite my fear of cracking ice and cold water. The rain had washed away the snow in some places, and the dark ice showed through, creating a strange effect- it almost looked as if the lake were liquid, but thick and slow-moving. Creepiness was compounded by the fact that when I stepped off the dock, I looked down and could see the rocky lake bottom, aquatic plants and all.
The ice was piled up on the shore in great billows, apparently the result of the water freezing as the wind blew it against the rocks. Some distance down the lake, I could see a little village of fishing huts clustered together, and the figures of those hardy enough to stay out in the cold and wet.
Maybe I'll venture out further when the temperature drops below -5.

I've been struggling with myself. I feel the compulsion to be sullen and abrasive, like the old days. I've had to apologize several times for my mood.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," I said to my father yesterday, exasperated. He shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you," he said. And of course I shouldn't expect him to know.
Maybe it's just the winter blues. Also, I miss my friends. I miss the regular swing of Waterloo life.
But I am glad to be here. Sandy is a wonderful tonic for my father's moods. And I like being a big-sister figure for Jenny. She's a great girl, and she has so much potential. It's a great set-up, here in the lakeside house.
So maybe I'm a little bit blue. My dad says sometimes when we're very busy, we just don't have time to deal with our problems, so when we finally have a moment to relax, it all comes crashing down on us. That sounds about right to me.

Bollocks! I must continue to remind myself of my good fortune. I refuse to lose the happiness that took such a long time to arrive.

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at pictures of breakfast foods"

"Your blog is boring," he said, a faint slur in his speech the only indicator that he had consumed a tad too much wine.
"I know," I replied, realizing the truth in his words. "But what can I possibly write about?"
What, I asked, could possibly liven up this blog?
"Well", he said, "There's always waffles."
...and there were.

Waffles! How divinely your fluffy cavities hold Aunt Jemima's 30%-real-maple breakfast syrup, how perfectly your peaks and whorls give way to the probings of knife and fork...
Did I mention that they taste damn fine re-heated in the toaster? Not to be confused with those store-bought imposter waffles, with their slick advertising and their perfect cut-out shapes. No, I'm talking about the real deal, people. Home-made, and not afraid to be a bit asymmetrical at times, a bit rough around the edges. Everyman's waffles. Every woman, too. Hell, even math students can appreciate a good batch of waffles.
As the steamy dreamy scent of the waffles cooking wafted past my nostrils, I was reminded of better times, times when sidewalks were slush-free and final exams were just a gleam in the eye of professors. Times that blurred the lines between breakfast and lunch.
Hopeful times.

Such is the power of the waffle.

I call it a poem for Martina

We'll hit you
Like a hurricane
As you stare out over the curves of the sea.
We'll batter you,
Enfold you
-Hold you-
And for a few short days
We'll be all that
Your senses perceive.
We'll fill your eyes
Your nose, your ears
Your mouth-
We'll be the only surface
Under your hands.
But soon, like a hurricane
We slow,
Lose momentum
And dissipate
Until all that remains
Is a dry shell of a memory
And the taste
Of the sea
On your tongue.

Destructive
Like the old days
But she's hanging on, like
An intimate moment with herself
In the golden light of afternoon, or
Cold fingers wrapped around a steaming mug.
Waiting for warmth.

I'm plagued with a feeling of unrest. Where did it come from? What's it trying to tell me? Could it just be unease brought on by procrastination? Argh, I just don't know. I'm constantly worrying. I feel like I haven't been keeping up with my commitments. For example, I missed the choir singathon on saturday, and now I've just discovered I will have to miss a dress rehearsal for the Messiah because of my tools/techniques final exam. I had to cancel on Wayne at Tora Tattoo as well, because I just didn't have enough money.
Yes, all this is my fault. I tell myself I have to earn my liesure time, and then end up enjoying myself far too much regardless of the minimal schoolwork I've accomplished. Just like the last time I went home... I did a half-ass job on my prehistory paper, didn't hand in a bibliography, and just went home and had fun anyway.
For shame, Emily. I have a feeling I won't be pulling off the straight-A's of first year.
I'm concerned about how my extracurricular activities will affect my marks, but I just can't see myself backing out of the clubs (or the election, for that matter). They've become such an integral part of my life in such a short time. I've met so many good people through club events (especially PIRG).
*le sigh*
Guess I just have to suck it up... I got myself into it, and now I'll have to find new ways of managing my time.

a day in the life

We were talking about blogs at our impromtu PIRG social tonight, and Nicole remarked that people tend to lose their drive to produce meaningful entries.
I agree wholeheartedly.
So I have to apologize for this, because it's... yes... a report of my day.
Why?
Because, despite the minimal amount of sleep I've had in the last while, I cannot seem to quiet my mind.

So... today:

- Wicked witch hair (everywhere)
- Shift at the teahouse, where a beautiful woman with a knit hat and heavy-lidded eyes gave me smiles and compliments
- Found Max's sock and wore it to work
- Tore out more of my hair in the shower
- Literally ran to the PIRG meeting (and was only 2 minutes late)
- PIRG planning... very excited about interesting workshop possibilities/campaign for BOD
- Wilf's with the PIRG, planned a stoner social/Phil's and dancing
- Got home, was offered special brownie
- Plans of relaxing and brownie-eating foiled by Kirk's intolerable sisters coming to visit
- Took off for tea and scrabble/sketch chinese food
- Max still wearing my black and red argyle kneesock
- Freezing cold walk, passed many drunken people
- Home
- Blog/wonder why anyone reads this... real entry soon, I promise!!! *looks around shiftily*
- ....sleep? (that's all, folks)

Talk about filler...

{last day of classes is fast approaching}
School business is drawing to a close. The 9-11 discussion panel went very well (though I had to leave an hour in so I could go to class and get my essay proposal)...
Speaking of which... Haxell took a petulant and argumentative tone when marking my proposal, gave me a 70, and wagged his proverbial finger at me for thesis-neglect which has not yet occurred. I hate this man.
On the plus side, this semester's last PIRG meeting is tomorrow and I have muscled my way into only working until 3:15, so I will be able to attend. Huzzah!
Also, crazy party next monday night, and then lunch and drinks with Alexandra and Theresa on tuesday (and some others from the women's center, I believe).
wOOt.