On Bachelorhood

While house-sitting at my aunt’s fancy condo on the weekend, eating a swiss cheese and tomato omelette, reading the Saturday paper, it occurred to me that I would make an excellent bachelor.
I could definitely get used to living in an expensive house, sitting on my balcony eating elaborate meals and reading that newspaper which gets delivered to the door every day. And coming home after work and relaxing with a beer in front of the hockey game.
I just think I would make an excellent single guy.
Perhaps my stong sense of relating to dudes is connected to the reason I am still single.

On cheating

Well, my first semester of college (this time around) has come to and end, and I have come to a rather disturbing conclusion: most of my peers are cheaters. I am well aware that there will always be people in life who lie and cheat to get ahead, but I had no idea that this group of people, at least in my program, accounted for so many. It’s exam week and I have witnessed it in every form. People whispering to each other and comparing exams. Hand signals assigned to certain letters for multiple choice. Study notes hidden in laps. I heard one guy even went so far as to save the Powerpoint slides onto his cell phone, and scroll through them during the exam.
Cheating is just something that pisses me off like no other. I pay $6000/year to come to this school and work my ass off, and everyone around me slacks off, skips class, and shows up on exam day with their cheat sheet.
Now it may be the thought that I only have one exam left and then have over a month off, but I think I have finally come to terms with the whole issue. The reality is that most of the cheaters I have encountered are putting everything on the line to come out with a grade that is mediocre at best. That would be the day that I would bring the answers into a test with me and come out with a low 70. Why even bother? With marks like that you might as well fail. You’re at the top of no one’s list when it comes time to look for a job.
Secondly, after all is said and done, I am still coming out of tests with honest 90s. Cheat all you want assholes, you will never be as smart as me.
And finally, provided you don’t get caught and kicked out of school beforehand, you will be coming out with a degree that is technically worth the same as mine. Fortunately for me, however, the joke is on you, because you’re going to have a pretty hard time cheating on your police interviews. They have been doing this a lot longer than you, and they know how to weed out the idiots. Your dishonesty will only get you so far.
Anyway. I’ve been meaning to get that rant out for a while, and it felt damn good. And if you are one of said cheaters, and are offended by this, get over yourself and learn some morals.

Riley Jabour

A lot of my friends did things with their life after high school, and stuck with it. Hence, I’ve been hearing a lot about graduation from everyone. Well, as you know, I did not stick with anything after high school, and half a diploma, a wedding planning certificate, a year off and several shitty jobs later, here I am with 3 and a half years left before I graduate.
Regardless, it is an exciting time of year, so I’m going to write about someone who is actually graduating this spring, Riley Jabour. If you don’t know Riley, (or even if you do) you can creep him here, here, or here.
I’ve known Riley since grade 10, and the first conversation we ever had was about cheese.
Although he still loves cheese, these days Riley is a little more productive than what I remember from our 11th grade Data Management class. Currently, he is about to complete his second and final year in Radio at Fanshawe College in London, Ontario. How fucking cool is that?
It feels like just yesterday I was all awkward and nervous and starting high school, and now one of my best friends is graduating college, like, tomorrow.
Anyway, before I get all sentimental and start to cry… RILEY’S GRADUATING COLLEGE. And in case you don’t know (because you’re stupid, because this is true of like, all jobs), radio is a job where you start at the bottom of the bottom. You don’t graduate and end up on the Edge morning show, you start in some obscure little town about 45 minutes Northwest of Middle-of-Fucking Nowhere.
So all this means that this time next year, it is very likely that Riley will be living in like, Nunavut. It’s just crazy to think that we’ve all grown up so much so fast, and that in the next little while we will be entering that ‘real world’ our parents always told us so much about.
Crazy shit.
Not that I have to worry anyway, because I don’t graduate until 2013, and since the world is ending in 2012, I guess I never have to grow up. Like Peter Pan. Huzzah!
Peace.
Post Script: I’ve since realized that for an entry titled “Riley Jabour”, this actually says quite little about Riley. So, here’s a fun quote to add some more Riley to the page:

Kat: What were you for Halloween? Zombie Waldo?
Riley: I was a riot cop from the party that got busted up by the riot police the night before Halloween. That was just some random day we decided to dress up like zombies and go to Walmart.

Stage 5 Clinger

If you’ve been following my blog you should know about my stage 5 clinger. If you have been following and this is news to you, then perhaps I forgot to mention him. So read on.
I’ve been taking french classes recently because I want to speak french. Makes sense. Anyway there is this dude there who I can’t seem to shake off.
The first few classes I saw him, and he was painfully awkward, and I felt kind of bad for him. Then one fateful day I saw him waiting on the subway platform and he struck up a conversation with me. I was going to the end of the line. His stop was one before mine. 45 minutes later I realized I had a stage 5 clinger on my hands.
Anyway so the next week all I could think about was how awkward it was going to be if I had to ride the subway with him again, so I left halfway though.
The following week he wasn’t in class.
The week after that, there was a new girl in class and he was all over her, so I figured I was safe.
WRONG. He seems to have his sights on me again.
So tonight as I was leaving class I saw him heading with some other people towards the subway. I decided to take extra precautions to make sure I didn’t run into him: I sat for a while in the school lobby, called a friend, walked the long way, went to Tim Hortons and then finally strolled down to the subway platform. And I’m just about to sink my teeth into my fruit explosion muffin when I hear “Hey Kat.”
WHAT THE FUCK. Seriously, I don’t know if he waited for me or what, but there he was, creepin at the bottom of the escalator. But wait, there’s more. The rest of our conversation went like this:

Stage 5 Clinger: Those are awesome boots!
Kat: Thanks.
S5C: And you’re jeans! I love those! (One might think that he is gay; one would be mistaken.)
K: …thanks.
S5C: They go so well together!
K: Well.. that was the plan.
S5C: I need to get some new jeans.
K: …
S5C: Do you think I should get them now, or wait until Spring?
K: …didn’t you just say you need them? So.. shouldn’t you get them now?
S5C: Good idea! Where should I get them?
K: …..
S5C: I was thinking Mark’s Work Warehouse, what do you think?
K: My dad gets all his clothes there. Good store.
S5C: Yea, it’s really good quality.
K: Yea, dad loves it. (I figure if I reference my dad enough he will realize he’s old and creepy. Unfortunately he is not this perceptive. And for the record, my dad hasn’t bought new clothes since I can remember, and if he did, he would probably buy them at Zellers.)
S5C: When I was in PEI I bought all my clothes at Mark’s Work Warehouse. Even my long underwear. You wouldn’t think it gets that cold in PEI, but it does.
K: I’d believe it.
S5C: You really do need the long underwear!
K: …Oh look, Bathurst. This is me.
S5C: Since when do you get off at Bathurst?
K: Since.. today. Nice seeing you!
S5C: Well next week is the last class. We’ll probably all go out for a drink or something. (WTF?!??! No we won’t. No one in the class even drinks. And if they were the going-out-for-drinks types, it’s safe to say no one would invite this dude.)
K: Yea.. okay.
S5C: Yea! We’ll go out next week!
K: Sorry.. can’t hear you.. g2g……

Sadly this is not the first time he has informed me of some time we are going out that I did NOT agree to. Even more sad is the fact that I am more excited to never see him again than I am to get my French certificate. FML.

METRIC <3

So as you may or may not know, I went to see Metric this past weekend. Had to drive to Hamilton and everything that could go wrong did (even a possible seizure in there) but it was worth every second.
I have been to a lot of shows, and I can say without a doubt that this has the best one I’ve been to, hands down.
They played such a good mix of new and old, and didn’t miss a single song I wanted to hear. The setlist was something like this:
Twilight Galaxy
Gimme Sympathy
Satellite Mind
Help I’m Alive
Poster of a Girl
Dead Disco
Stadium Love
Blindness
Collect Call
Monster Hospital
Combat Baby
I might have missed one or two but that seems pretty accurate. They played the entire new album plus all the old good shit you want to hear. Best show of my life.
Sidenote: if you ever have the chance to go see The Stills, save your money. They sucked.

Kelly Armstrong

Who the hell is Kelly Armstrong anyway? Saw an ad on the subway for her books today. Can somebody say Twilight rip off? Come on. Original much? No one is going to buy your books because they slightly resemble the ACTUAL best selling series.
Maybe you’ll get a few idiots who mistake it for Twilight. Hope that pays the bills.

Seriously though, I couldn’t find them all, but here is the cover of one of her books:

hmm, where have I seen this before?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And if all this wasn’t enough reason to hate her, the tagline on the ad I saw was ”Werewolves are the new vampires.”
VOM.

On public transit…

Okay, I think it’s time I clear the air. If you are one of the following people I would advise you to take notes, because I GUARANTEE you I am not the only person who feels this way about you.
First. I am all for giving my seat up to those who need it more than I do. So, if you have a cane, are older than 50, are visibly ill, pregnant, or are carrying a lot of shit, you are welcome to my seat. That said, just because you’re my senior does NOT mean I should let you sit down. Like this dude today. Must have been all of 40. Get over yourself buddy. You’ve got a good 20 years before people start being nice to you because of your age.
Secondly, I do not give my seat up when the one next to me is vacant. If I am so offensive that you can’t even fathom the thought of sitting next to me, then you sure as hell aren’t getting MY SEAT. Seriously.
Furthermore, and I know this might be hard to believe, but sometimes I really do need that seat more than you. This one time I had a mad case of the flu which had come out of nowhere, literally while I was on the bus. And all these old people were getting on and glaring at me for not giving up my seat. Yea, okay, you’re 90. I get it. Well, I’m about to spew vomit out my nose, so how about I just stay where I am, k?
And would someone explain to me what it is about me that is so offensive anyway?! Is it my nose ring? Because in some cultures they put rings around their fucking necks, but yes, I can see how a hoop through my nose would be SO offensive. I must just be another punk kid riding the bus listening to their stolen ipod.
And for the record, asshole, that ipod was a gift from my mom.
Anyway. I hate public transit. In case you couldn’t tell. One day when i’m a cop and I show up to your door to assist you are you going to turn me away because I have holes in my face from my piercings? Assholes.

Kat really and truly does finally go to college.

So, I know I’ve been MIA. In all honesty, I’ve just been too busy to update.

I have, however, been keeping a short list in my phone whenever something pops into my head that I think I should blog about. So here goes.

And yes, it’s all going to be in short points and not make any chronological sense, but trust me, it is better than writing out every single thing I’ve done for the last month.

1. Started taking French as a night school course a few weeks ago, because I figure I should probably learn SOMETHING, since I have no other marketable skills. It’s going okay, but the best part, hands down, is the textbook. It’s called Moi, je parle francais! Which, in case you didn’t know, translates to “Me! I Speak French!!!!” I get a chuckle out of that every week.

2. Speaking of French, did I mention it’s insanely hard?! Because it is. I have NO idea how I am ever going to be able to speak the language. I am trying to reassure myself using my keyboard analogy – that is, when I first started using computers, I couldn’t type to save my life. Now I can type like 100wpm without even glancing at the keyboard. (Not sure if I should be proud of this.) But the point is that this is PROOF that practice makes perfect. So let’s hope.

3. Again, speaking of French, I have a Stage 5 Clinger on my hands. If you don’t know what that is, you should learn. Anyway this dude is like 30+ and is determined to be my friend/boyfriend/sugar daddy or something. Seriously. Talked to him on the subway last week and all of a sudden he wants to know my Facebook, my phone number, gave me his business card, and can’t wait to “get together”. WTF. I did not give out any of this info, and I do not recall making plans to get together. Perhaps I stood him up? Ugh.

4. Last note about French – I thought the University was supposed to be nice and prestigous and all that. Maybe the other buildings, but the one I am definitely looks like the kind of inconspicuous place one would attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

5. Went shopping a few weeks ago and bought this big, kind of pricey, black bag. I thought it was nice and trendy and, most importantly, would hold all my shit. I was right. I went out into sunlight just recently however, and learned that my big black bag is actually green.

6. Has anyone seen that Astro yogurt commercial where the song goes “La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la….” etc. SO FUCKING ANNOYING.

7. My student trial of Microsoft Office has long since expired and the programs my shitty computer supplies instead are sub-par, so I finally caved and bought the legit version. I probably shouldn’t have spent the money, but I am SO glad that I did. There is also a program called OneNote that is strictly for taking notes. Addicted. I know, I’m a giant nerd and am destined to be single forever.

8. “Back to School Special at the Stripclub”. For some reason this is saved in my phone but I can’t remember why. I’m pretty sure I saw it posted on a pole somewhere though. Way to capitalize on the poor students, strippers.

9. While hiking through the University campus (I won’t say which school so as to protect my identity from the Stage 5er) I saw this Asian guy, walking down the street, headphones in, SINGING ALONG AS LOUD AS HE COULD. Not that I’ve never seen this before. It’s just that usually those people are homeless and sitting on a vent.

10. I saw a Lambourghini in my neighbourhood the other day. Strange place for it, but it was rad nonetheless.

11. I encountered another centipede. I am sure you remember the incident of the one in my bed. UGH. Anyway the other morning I went to go take a shower, close the bathroom door and on the wall behind is this big fatty one. So I take a few deep breaths and go find the Raid, and spray the shit out of the little bastard. I go to clean up its remains, and I can’t see it. Weird. I look everywhere, but it seems to have disintegrated. Satisfied, I hop into the shower. It is not until I get out, that I see it. In the doorway to my room. With 2 legs left. Still kinda alive. So anyway I Raided it some more and disposed of it and no harm done. But really. Why the hell do all the centipedes come to my room to die. DISLIKE.

12. Furthermore, I don’t know how the hell I’m ever going to be a cop when the mere thought of a centipede nearly makes me pee my pants.

13. This morning in class my prof was talking about the time she visited Kingston Pen and was given a tour of the old solitary confinement cells from the 1800s. I couldn’t help but notice the many similarities between what she described, and my apartment. Fail.

14. This afternoon in class this was was sitting next to me. He seems really quiet and shy and I’ve never talked to him before, so I tried to be nice and make a joke about my shit being in his personal space. (It really was.) Anyway, I guess this means we are friends. But it turns out, he’s not shy at all. He’s an ignorant bastard and spent the entire class making snide remarks about every comment someone in the class made, rolling his eyes at the discussion on polygamy in Canada (which I happen to support) and moaning about needing a cigarette. You want a smoke that bad, go outside and fucking smoke one, asshole. The rest of us paid our $6000 to actually learn.

15. Roomie and I went to the grocery store on an impromptu ice cream trip just now. And got free pies. So happy.

16. The angry woman upstairs strikes again. If you didn’t read (or if I forgot to post), she was the one who went to the landlord to complain that Vanessa and I were using her garbage can and never taking it out. Anyway tonight is garbage/recycling night, so on my way to school this morning I put the recycling out at the curb. Came home from school 6 hours later and find it back inside, sitting outside our door. I don’t know what the hell she thinks we did wrong. IT’S GARBAGE DAY.

Anyway that’s all. Hope you enjoy the update because they will likely be rare from now on.

cottager rant.

I went home on Sunday because I was bored and figured I would visit my dad and some friends from back home. Turns out my dad isn’t all too interesting and none of my friends were around. That said, I couldn’t get out of Cannington faster. However, before I left I ventured to Subway with my dad, forgetting that it was Sunday and all the cottagers would be coming home from their weekends.

Now I have had this rant internally time and time again and always just let it slide, but I cannot be silent anymore.

FUCK THE COTTAGERS. Seriously. Here is just a brief list of some of the things I witnessed during my brief stay:

1. 12 people in line ahead of me, all together, all with bratty little kids who can’t just sit at the table and eat what’s put in front of them. No, these little treats have to go stand in line, all the while whining about how their feet hurt from supporting their fat bodies, so they can tell the Subway employees that they want extra cheese on their sandwich.

2. Not ONE person said please or thank you. Not a single one. And not only did they forget their manners, but they were rude as hell.

3. One woman sat at the table and yelled out to her husband across the restaurant what she wanted on her sub. I later learned that this was because she was busy cradling her like, 2 week old baby at the table. Why the fuck are you driving up to your cottage with your 2 week old baby?

4. Some girl who couldn’t have been more than 10 years old wearing American Apparel. Way to teach your kids the value of money.

5. Angry Dad Who Paid for All 27 Family Members pays, then proceeds to start berating the sandwich maker because something is wrong with it. You WATCHED him make it, genius. If there is something wrong with your sandwich, it’s your own damn fault.

6. Grown men driving all over the grass/curb because they lacked the intelligence required to realize they should probably drive out the way they drove in. (To which I gladly yelled out “WRONG WAY ASSHOLE” whilst sitting on the back of my car ridiculing the other tourists.)

Anyway none of this is new to me at all, having worked in the service industry and catering to cottagers since I was 16 years old, but I still can’t help but be pissed off by it each time I see it. I don’t care who you are, or how much your boat/car/gas guzzling SUV/seadoo cost. You are no better than me. In fact, *I*, the lowly (ex)fast-food employee have  more class than you ever will. At least I have some fucking manners.

And if this offended you, it’s clearly because you are one of these people. So get over yourself. Grow some manners and have some respect. Fuck.

classmate rant

Started school today, and for the most, I quite enjoy it. I am definitely enjoying having something to do finally, and have met some cool people. But I do have to get just a little bitching out of the way before I can start enjoying school. So, if you are attending school, any school, please take the time to read the following.

1. In class discussions, your opinion is welcome, but for the love of God, <b>keep it short!</b> No one wants to hear you ramble on and on and on if you made your point in the first sentence. And if you didn’t make your point in the first sentence, you should have.

2. If there is not a class discussion, <b>keep your damn opinion to yourself.</b> I know you may think that class is a great time to share your semi-related personal experience, but trust me, no one cares. I pay $6000/year to learn about criminal justice, not you/your mom/sister/dog/cousin. Unless it is 100% relevant, please censor your stories.

3. <b>Put up your fucking hand.</b> I’m aware that we’re not in kindergarten anymore, but that rule was implemented for a reason. Everyone deserves to be heard and they can’t if you keep talking over them.

4. <b>Turn off your cell phone.</b> I don’t know why, after 6 hours of being told to keep it on silent, your phone KEEPS RINGING. I don’t care if you’re the President of the Universe, it can WAIT.

5. Don’t start rustling your papers and zipping your binders and getting ready for class to end when there are still 10 minutes left and the prof is still talking. It’s rude and distracting. <b>Wait until class is over to pack up your shit.</b>

Anyway I’m going to stop there because my laundry is calling.