she bangs

I finally got around to getting a haircut [goodbyeeeeee $40] and am now the proud owner of bangs. Oh, how adorable I look! [I'm vain, I know]

And in other exciting news, I may be featured/interviewed/probably will only be a mention in my old campus newspaper in an article about knitting [I always get excited to talk about knitting]! I have a telephone interview scheduled for tomorrow [ooh la la] and I'm hoping if my name is mentioned, all my old chums who stuck around for one more year will read it and wonder how I managed to get back in the Ontarion after graduating. I think that prospect is almost more delightful than being interviewed itself.

Woot! Now I'm off to a Jackie Chan night with Kyleman. Just when life was getting me down, it starts looking up again.

happyness

I am once again slightly bored out of my mind while on the job. Although pretty soon I will be going to get some leather and tools and tooling said leather. How that'll work on the front desk, I'll have to see. Wait, maybe I should go back to that whole "tooling leather" thing.

One of the joys of being a) artistically gifted [a-thank you] and b) working in a museum whose main exhibit right now is Vikings is that when the co-worker who does Viking re-enactments asks you if you want to learn how to tool leather, you say yes [obviously; this also happened when he asked if I wanted to learn how to spin wool]! Essentially tooling leather is the method in which you take a piece of leather, wet'er down and then make impressions in it to create a design. Because the leather is wet, when it dries it'll hold the impression and you can get something like this:

Obviously, I am not that great. But I am working on it.



Anyways, the one I was working on Friday night while attempting to reel people in at an outreach programme at the mall [it, surprisingly, didn't work] was trying to channel Viking themes, i.e. a ship with these two weird animals biting each other's tails. The only problem was I had no pencil so I had to use pen which now shows more than the impressions, and lemonade instead of water so it looks very rustic and stained with age.

I think I might have to try again. Especially since it's snowing and so the likelihood that anyone is going to come in today is mighty slim. Ho hum.

hung up

One of my biggest problems lately are my after-work shopping sprees at V.V. . I mean, when you can get already cheap clothing [usually of a very good brand name] for half price, the little voice in your head that usually tells you you have enough shirts/sweaters/little black dresses, starts telling you "GO FOR THE PRETTY ONE!" Which usually ends up with me with a new load of laundry to do [you know, because of the new used clothes. Always wash before wear, people!].

This is what happened yesterday. Except I think karma [and my budget] tried getting a little back at me but messing with the one cute H&M black dress I got [H&M = loooove]. The general consensus of the new clothing was machine wash cold [the dress was warm so that should be ok] so la de da I toss it all in, leave a kind note for the mama to please switch over the load [dress to hang, sweater lay flat, etc. etc.] while I went to the second job. WELL when I got BACK, the dress was almost unrecognizable. From the feeling of the cloth to the bit of shrinkage....I was freaking out.

Mothers always save the day though. Told me to try stretching it a bit and hang it up properly and it should be ok. And it was! --- until I put it on today and the hanger ends made hanger end dents in the shoulders.

Obviously this dress and I have some issues to deal with together. Luckily everything else and I are doing fine and dandy. I'm now in looove with a Gap orange and white striped shirt and a deep green Banana Republic knit that makes me feel like beatnik and makes up for my lack of motivation to knit this.

You know, I never used to be a brand bitch until I could get them for under $10.

orange

I love the colour orange.

This week will be hectic working either one job or the other or the other everyday until Sunday [or more depending on my schedule for next week which I don't get until Wednesday {sigh}].

I've decided I really love crew neck sweaters and shirts. However, sadly for me most of the time they do not like me back; which is why I've decided to force them on Kyleman. I mean, if I can't wear them my other half might as well.

Saturday mornings.

I don't want to go to work today. If I had my way I'd be sitting home all day with my multiple knitting projects that keep crying to be worked on. Is sad.

But instead I will be at a museum, doing inventory in between people coming in. Oh the joy.

I love my stepsister

Or more specifically, I love her student id. It definately comes in handy when I need to take the bus and she is staying at home all afternoon.

This afternoon, in a feat of miraculousness, I managed to take 2 buses across town, get my car fully registered and back on the road plus walk BACK up to the downtown core [note to self: it is much faster to walk from the MTO to the Simcoe route than it is to wait for the King bus to come along], grab a delicious pumpkin steamer from Beanz and grabbed the next bus home - which soon got filled up with teenagers. In my old age I had forgotten I had picked a very bad time to take the Simcoe bus - it goes right by O'Neill and usually there is a hoard of teenagers waiting to push and shove their way on. I should know, I used to be one of them.

Anyways in about an hour I got ok'ed to get back on the road [vroom vroom!], a wee bit of a suntan, some exercise, belly-warming deliciousness and the realization of how glad I am not to be a teenager anymore.

Hallelujah.

St. Valentine's

Even though today is supposed to be a very loving day, I have not found much love. In fact, the only people showing any enthusiasm for this day are my mother and I [we love holidays of all natures]. But me mostly by wearing red accessories [who doesn't love red accessories??]. Aaaah red is a glorious neutral colour. Don't believe me? You should.

Happy Valentine's Day!

skank

I learned a valuable lesson today: never throw out 7/8 of your bar clothes just because you barely ever go out to bars anymore. One night you are going to have to go out and you will have nothing in particular to skank it up in. Yeah, I said skank it up. Where I'm from, that's how you have to do it if you go to a bar. Actually I think it's like that in almost every city in North America where 19 [if you're in Canada] to 24 year olds go out to drink. True story.

I have managed, fortunately, to stay on the classy retro side unlike what I was threatening Kyleman with earlier this week [quote I'm going skank it up so much on Saturday night you're going to be embarassed to be seen with me unquote].

There is just something about heading out in too short dresses/too low cut tops that I just can't do without feeling very awkward and sober. I usually end up sober [except on very special occasions]; alcohol and I have a very love-hate-I'm-going-to-cause-you-slight-allergies relationship. It's sad. I'm just glad I got all my drinking hoop-la out in the first couple weeks of turning 19 [go Canada!] and am now content with just 1 or 2 drinks and feeling just dandy.

Now if you excuse me, I'm off to persuade Kyleman that all this [imagine a giant arm gesture here towards my  ensemble] deserves to be taken out for food and shown off before we're surrounded by drunk people who won't appreciate good fashion sense.

Tra la.

until the stars turn cold

Apparently East Side Mario's with two of my favourite gals just isn't in the stars for me. It's very, very sad.

Also I forgot how great V for Vendetta is. I wish I had Natalie Portman's hair in it. Not when she shaves it, mind you, but in the first scene - all crazy, curly and wild.

Mine's just...crazy. Le sigh,.

"I'll knit you to death"

I definately just took a knitting needle down to the museum basement for protection when I came back out of the bathroom. You just never know who's going to sneak in while you're preoccupied.

Alone in a Boat in Botswana

I am really not in a boat. Or Botswana for that matter. I am, however, grasping along my first shift of being in charge while listening to Nordic music and narration for a movie that I cannot actually watch since I am supposed to [wo]man the front desk. I think. I haven't actually gotten much training on what more to do other than man the front desk and how to get in and out of the buildings without setting off alarms.

Luckily since my mother drove me this morning, she decided to come have a peek at the new exhibit and talked me down from a couple high stress moments where in all likelihood I'd just end up destroying precious documents or sending them into some abyss no mankind has ever seen before. She is now watching said movie that I cannot watch [although I'm sure I actually could. No one has shown up yet and it's been 40 minutes since opening. Oh god, only 40 minutes!?]

Anyways.

So that I don't bungle anything up, I'm going to review notes, work on Kyleman's Valentine's gift and read a little Agatha Christie, that sly old lady.

Also, in case anyone's noticed I've changed my blog's name from [and domain name? webpage linky thing?] because I felt a) I really don't talk about Monty Python at all, b) the name was too long and in my head I kept shortening it from It's Just a Flesh Wound: Confessions of a Former Monty Python Addict to It's Just a Flesh Wound, which I'm sure would confuse a whole bunch of people about whether I'm recording about some wound I have or not/how suicidal I was [I'm not] and c) flesh wounds usually scare people, not invite them into their folds.

Opinions?

"Nothing comes of nothing. Speak again"

Lately I've felt like I've got nothing to say. People keep asking me what's new or what I've been doing and every time all I can think of in response is "same old, same old." And it's true. I work, I knit [how old ladyish of me. But I tell you, when all the fabric factories in the world explode and we have to make our own clothing again, I am going to be soooo a head of the rest of my generation], I hang out, I sleep. How blah.

I feel perpetually stuck between student and adult. On one end, I've reapplied for school in the fall but I miss my alpha mater days and on the other end I want to get on with my life: career, marriage, you name it [Kyleman isn't as anxious for this part. Looking forward to it, yes, excited to get there....let's just say we have our own mental timelines we keep trying to convince the other to stick to]. A constant battle for my identity. It probably doesn't help that I work 3 part-time/casual part-time/once a week jobs that don't give me any stability/hope/big person's wage to rely on.

Is it this hard for every graduate? I mean, we can't all be Benjamin Braddocks [I'm still trying to figure out the emotions in the last scene!], tumbling back home wondering where to turn next - I think most of us can skip the scandalous affair part, although to each their own - and completely undecided about life. Most of us don't even have the choice anymore of going into the family business. I wish though - if my mother had a family business I'd be set up in a children's book store, a la Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail. I'd be so down.

My grandfather made a good point during one of our conversations about my life: nowadays you have to go get a degree in something somewhat specific: art, science, math, english, history, etc. but to actually get into the profession you want, you normally have to go the extra mile and get that masters before you get in. I.e. librarian school, or Masters of Library and Information Technology [MLIS]. To be a librarian you must get this MLIS before you're even looked at for anything other than a clerk's position -and even now they're getting picky and just want people with Library Technician degrees - but if the goal is to be a librarian, why does it have to be a masters? To be honest, my degree in Studio Art isn't particularly going to help me with being a librarian. Yes, it's nice to have but it's not going to really help me any when it comes to applying to graduate programs [I'm serious, it doesn't. 2/3 programs I applied to refused to acknowledge my courses in Studio Art as real "academic" programs].

What is the point of spending thousands of dollars and four years of your time studying something that may not even count towards the main goal for your career? If you can go to college to learn a trade straight off the bat, why can't you be able to do the same for more "academic" focuses?

I wish I had some smart-alecky, philosophical Socrates quote to end off this entry, however my Republic book has a coat of dust on it and all I can pull out from my memory is that Socrates probably wouldn't approve of our education system. But let me get back to you on that.

[Also, I've just noticed that I started off this entry complaining about how I had nothing to say, and then proceeded to make quite a long entry. I guess Lear was right and all I did have to do was "Speak again".]

pretty girls make graves

Or they get pretty pedicures. Like my sister and I did today. And for the first time I splurged [I really need to stop splurging] and got designs on the toe.

Ooooooh, I feel so pretty!

white is the new blonde

Today I found my first white hair. Attached to my head. I know this because it hurt when I pulled it out, gawking all the while. Although I guess white is better than grey; with grey you just look old, with white you can just call it platinum blonde, a la Marilyn.

blizzard weather

I'm never lucky enough to have snow days.

The broadcast for today was a blizzard, except for us the blizzard was over before most of the population woke up, and only left a good foot of snow. My mother is lucky enough to have her work be closed and I feel like I will not be so lucky. Darn.

A good thing that happened the last time I was at work though I found a gorgeous tea pot [I wish I had a picture now] and one of the fabulous things about it is it says "German Democratic Republic" on the bottom.

And thus I leave you with my crazy dog who after barking at me for minutes outside my door, gave up and laid down. Why she doesn't just come into my room I have no clue. Weirdo.