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UPDATE COMING SOON...(really!) "You had to sneak into my room just to read my diary. It was just to see all the things you knew I'd written about you." -Morrissey MARCH 7, 2000. This isn't so much a journal entry as it is me tooting my own horn. Whoo hoo! (But to set the record straight, I do NOT live in Ottawa.) FEBRUARY 22, 2000. Spring break. A coming-of-age ritual that combines sun, surf, sand, sex and sangria (how's THAT for alliteration?). Unless you're broke like me. Then it's just a week spent at home doing absolutely nothing because (until three hours ago) the internet was broken and the cable was out. But hey, I can reunite with my high school friends, right? Wrong. Turns out that most of my highschool friends have different reading weeks than mine, or actually have money, and as such have jetted off to such exotic locales as Florida, New York City, Whistler, Mexico, etc. while I am left to rot away friend-less, TV-less and internet-less. Buck up Sof! You can always hit Queen Street and do a little window shopping! Ummm...no. The thing is, the lymph nodes under my jaw have recently swollen (very painfully, might I add) to the size of golf balls, rendering me pretty much incapable of swallowing and/or turning my head. The doctor says it might be mono. (Some words of wisdom to doctors - if a patient comes in with a swollen anything, do not say the following: "Jee-zus! Is that ever impressive!" If said body part(s) is/are meant to be swollen and you are picking up in a bar, then, by all means. But if you are in your office, please refrain. It doesn't make your patient feel any better.) So I'm basically under room quarantine until I get the results of the blood test. Dandy. The only thing worse than the excruciating pain that I am in is the unspeakable agony that I am suffering at the hands of a hideous beast called Boredom. In summation: No TV, no internet (until very recently, anyway) and a possible case of mono make Sofi go...something something. Happy reading week, all (you healthy bastards)! FEBRUARY 9, 2000. Thanks to the good people at Golden Words (Matej, you're the greatest!), I recently had the opportunity to interview someone who I have admired for many years. Read all about it! JANUARY 31, 2000. (DISCLAIMER: The following entry is 100% angst-free, and borders on being idealistic. You've been warned.) I am in love with my life. I don't want to jinx it, but this must be said: everything has been going so incredibly well recently. I love my friends. I love my family (absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder). And I have discovered that I love my classes. Let me explain. For the past little while, I'd sort of been questioning the path I'm choosing for myself in life. I mean, a BA in English Literature? Not exactly practical, yes? But in class today, we looked at William Blake's poetry. "Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience", to be precise. I was on a euphoric high for the rest of the day. When I was younger, I discovered some yellowed, leather-bound books on a shelf in my grandparents' basement. Tennyson. Blake. Keats. Shakespeare. Joyce. I read them, not understanding very much at all, but savouring that which I could understand. And knowing that I had stumbled upon something amazing. I didn't mean for that to sound so silly and sentimental. I just wanted to express how in love I am with what I'm learning. I am finally positive that I'm taking the right path for me. I think that, as long as you love what it is that you're doing, everything is going to be all right. JANUARY 17, 2000. A gigantic weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. At three o'clock in the a.m., I completed the Sociology essay that has been plaguing me for a month. Finally stapling together an assignment that you never thought you'd finish is a wonderful, wonderful thing. I've taken a long break from this journal because I've wanted to think about its existence. It's become far too personal lately. I had never intended it to be such, but that's just what happened. I've finally decided that I'm going to keep it up. It's therapeutic. It's fun. And this is the longest I've ever kept a journal or anything remotely resembling a journal going. I love Golden Words. This is not a conclusion that I've come to recently by any means, but I have just re-discovered this truth. I adore the people I've met there. They're all talented, fun, and funny as hell. Three cheers for Geedoubleyooers, rah rah rah! In other news, my hero of the day, nay, of the week entire, is the beautiful, wonderful and all-around great Lindsay Michelle Lynch. She will forever be Little Miss Sunshine in my books. Enter her world here. DECEMBER 31, 1999. To be honest, I don't have anything particularly interesting to write today. I just felt that an end-of-the-century (I refuse to use the "m" word) entry was in order. I myself am spending the evening destroying my liver with a few close friends. I wanted to toboggan down a hill at the stroke of midnight, but of course there's no snow out. Bad planning on my part. Snow in Canada at the end of December? Pffft! What the hell was I thinking? I had coffee with some old friends from high school this afternoon. It was nice seeing them all again as we're spread out all over North America, so it isn't as if we can see each other whenever we feel like it. It was semi-weird, though; we were combatting awkward silences. Well, it struck midnight in Moscow half an hour ago, and there haven't been any blinding white flashes yet, so I think I can breathe a sigh of relief now. Happy non-Apocalyptic new year, all. DECEMBER 20, 1999. "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home". I repeat Dorothy's famous lines like a mantra, but remain unconvinced. I miss my friends at Queen's. I miss my dorm room. I miss coming home staggeringly drunk at five in the morning. Yes, I miss a lot of things. Don't get me wrong, home is great. It's comfy. It's warm. It's familiar. But it's boring as hell. I know that I sound like an ungrateful brat. I'm lucky to have a home at all. I'm lucky that I am able to spend an entire day doing little more than sleeping, watching TV and talking on the phone. It's a pretty sweet deal. I have far too much time on my hands, though. And this is the third time I have seen that damned Chantal Kreviazuk video today. I know what I must do. I shall turn the TV and computer off and go do something productive. Oh hey, "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" is on Muchmusic! George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley, you are my gods. On second thought, I think I'll enjoy this whole sit-on-my-ass-and-do-nothing-at-all thing while it lasts, yes? NOVEMBER 6, 1999. Last night was my Commencement. It was really strange being back at Sir John A., especially after I had vowed never to enter its dreary hallways again. The evening was more bitter than sweet. I know I didn't entirely enjoy my highschool years, but after tasting university, I've come to realize that, for the most part, I was miserable there. Commencement wasn't all bad, though. My parents were so proud of me - dad was grinnning from ear to ear. Also, I got to see a lot of people that I've missed. People who meant a lot to me during those five years and helped shape me into the person that I am today. (You all know who you are, and I thank you from the bottom of my entirely cliched heart). As soon as the diploma was in my hand, sweet, sweet relief washed over me. That chapter of my life had finally ended. Finis. Applause. Macdonald Collegiate Institute - I won't miss you in the least. OCTOBER 31, 1999. I had a very surreal Hallowe'en weekend. Speaking of it in this journal would be incriminating. Interesting stuff went down. And came up. Now let us never speak of it again. Lindsay, I had fun trick or treating with you this evening. It made me feel like a little wee kiddie once again, and I thank you very muchly. Oh, and I fell in love last night. It hit me very, very hard. I'm physically winded at the moment. I hope it gets easier to breathe over time. OCTOBER 23, 1999. I saw the Flashing Lights and Local Rabbits play at Clark Hall Pub on Thursday night. It was one of the best concerts I've ever been to, probably because it was such an intimate venue. Anyway, I just finished my review of the show that I wrote for the Queen's Journal, and I would like to share. OCTOBER 19, 1999. "Happy birthday to the best brother in the world." -Sloan Since when did I become such a sentimental freak? Ugh. Anyway, have a schnappy (thanks Liz!) 18th there, chief! It was so beautiful outside today, and I had some free time, so I took a walk around campus, and took a lot of pictures. The lake is so intensely blue, and the leaves have changed. There's a tree right outside of my residence that's a bright gold tinged with red, and when the sun hits it just right, it looks like it's aflame. While I was taking a picture, a girl I'd never seen before approached me. I thought she was going to ask me what I was doing, and I felt ever-so-slightly embarrassed. Then she asked me if I had sang at the Coffee House the other night. I told her I had, and she said I had a nice voice and could play the guitar really well. YAY! Thanks, girl who I don't know. You completely made my day. OCTOBER 16, 1999. Last night was our Wail the Gael. If you're reading this Steve/Heather/Jess - we are SOOOOOOO sorry! We love our gaels! Tonight is the Coffee House at Vic Hall. Jen and I are going to sing "Leaving on a Jetplane" together and she's going to sing "Blood and Fire" on her own. With the exception of Heather C. (miss you!!!), Jen has the most extraordinary voice I have ever heard - she can do a kickass Ani DiFranco impression. AND she's nuts! Whatta great gal! Anyway, we decided we needed to practise, so we went to the benches at the sides of the rugby field and sang our little hearts out. It was really sunny and the wind was blowing. You know those moments in your life that feel like they belong in a movie? This was one of them. OCTOBER 14, 1999. Happy 19th birthday, Erin! You're a super chickita banana and I love ya tons. I know you had a good one, because I was there. Hmmmm....fluorescent fish.... OCTOBER 2, 1999. I was awestruck twice today. And I'm not awed easily. I went on a trip to Montreal with a bunch of residence people today. It's just like every other city, except that all of the strip clubs have extremely blatant names. Eg. "The Brass Rail" in Toronto vs. "ULTRA SEXE!!!" in Montreal. How subtle. Being unimpressed, my entourage and I decided to venture into old Montreal, hoping to catch a glimpse of something besides HMV, Mexx and Le Body Shop. We found ourselves outside of the Notre Dame Basilica, and decided to pay a buck for a tour of the interior. Best loonie I have ever spent. I've never seen anything so beautiful (with the exception of things not manmade). The golds, the blues, and the sheer magnitude of the place; it was humbling. Later that evening, we went to the IMAX theatre on Ste. Catherine and saw "American Beauty". I was once again awed. I've had a crush on Kevin Spacey for four years, so perhaps I'm biased, but it was one of the most astonishing and haunting films I've ever seen. See it. Go! Go now! SEPTEMBER 7-14, 1999. FROOOOOOOSH WEEEEEEEEEK! YEEEEEEEEE HAAAAAAWWWWWWW!!!!! And what a week it was. I've never gotten so dirty, yelled so loudly and slept so infrequently in my entire life! I still have shaving cream in various orifi (don't ask) and have undoubtedly grown a polyp or two on my vocal cords from chanting, singing and screaming. Submit for your approval my favourite cheer of many: We've got spirits, yeah yeah, We've got spirits, yeah yeah, We've got rum, scotch, tequila on the rocks, Beer beer beer beer beer beer beer! (Repeat ad nauseaum.) Fun stuff. I'm loving university. I was completely prepared to hate it, too. My room is huge. My roommate is nice. My residence is great. The campus is gorgeous. The people are friendly. And the guys....ohhhhhh, the guys! Could this place be heaven? If not, it's about as close to heaven as I think I'll ever get. CHAGHEILL! SEPTEMBER 3, 1999. Today was the last day of camp. I think I've learned a lot this summer (she says, as the theme from "The Wonder Years" plays in the background.) I've learned that I have more energy and patience than I had previously thought. I've learned that even the most evil of children have at least one thing about them that makes them marginally likeable. But most importantly, I've learned how to keep a group of kids entertained for hours with a piece of string. My fellow staff at camp were (for the most part) amazing. If you guys are reading this, I want you to know that you are friendly, funny, incredible people and we will, nay we MUST, keep in touch. Thank you all - you made my summer. AUGUST 5-16, 1999. I just came back from a vacation to western Canada (Alberta and B.C.) I had been dreading spending 10 days in close quarters with my sibling and parental units, but for a family vacation, it was surprisingly tolerable. Here are 10 personal highlights (in no particular order): 1) Saw a bona-fide Calgarian cowboy! Howdy, howdy, howdy! 2) Had fun in Banff and Vancouver getting checked out by guys who would be SO out of my league at home. You see, there's a strange phenomenon at work; western Canadian males are beautiful pieces of work. Western Canadian women all seem to...well...resemble equine. My theory is that there's something in the water that causes this. 3) Tim the white-water rafting tourguide guy. Holy Lord. 4) Ate Froot Loops (tm) in Kamloops. 5) Standing mere feet away from elk, deer, mountain goats, and many a wild wee birdie. 6) Lake Louise, Lake Peyto and Mount Robson whose breathtaking beauty was second only to Tim (see #3). 7) Standing on an actual glacier. 8) Horseback riding. (...like a frisbee) 9) The bear! 10) Victoria. What a city. I'm walking along a side alley where an Artisan Sale is taking place. You know - granola-munchin', birkenstock-wearin', hackey-sack playin' hippies hawking their candles and new age crystals and such. Whilst browsing, I observe one of the damn, dirty hippies sparking up a joint RIGHT THERE! In BROAD DAYLIGHT! Off of GOVERNMENT Street! (Oh, the irony of it all.) Anyway, I couldn't stop laughing. Victoria. What a city. JULY 30, 1999. I fear thunderstorms greatly. I feel extremely vulnerable when they hit; there is no escape. Kinda like that Ricky Martin single. My reactions to both are the same; I bite my nails, cringe in the corner, and murmur colourful expletives under my breath. Unfortunately, thunderstorms happen. Fortunately, not as often as "Livin' La Vida Loca" plays on MuchMoreMusic. What else? Oh, went to Peel Pub tonight with a friend from work. If you ever want to meet cute preppy frat boys named Chad, PP is the place to be! Had a ball. Had an orgasm (the DRINK, ya perv! Realize that there are some things that cannot be disclosed in an online journal...). Excellent drink, that. Tastes like a candy cane dipped in hot chocolate. Mmmmmm.....festive.... JULY 28, 1999. I've been working as a counsellor at a YMCA day camp this summer. It's a pretty good job. The kids are great, the staff is fun, and the pay is better than most camps. It's very draining, though. My camp (as well as several other camps) went to Bruce's Mill for a field trip today. The whole bus ride there, I was thinking about the camp I worked at last summer. Camp Robin Hood (note ANOTHER DISCLAIMER, far above.) I had a great time there. There were several reasons why I chose not to return, but I still miss that place. It had this amazing VIBE. It felt like everyone there belonged to one big, happy family, if you'll pardon the corny cliche. Anyway, Bruce's Mill. We've just emerged from the woods after a rather uneventful hike, and I see a group of campers and counsellors setting up tents. I notice a guy who looks a lot like a fellow Robin Hood-er I had a bit of a crush on last summer. I look at him for a while, trying to decide whether or not it's him. He looks at me, too, and then calls out my name. I am struck with a wave of nostalgia. I'm with all my campers from the Y and my supervisors are around, so my exchange with him is brief. Then, all of a sudden, I see a bunch of little girls running towards me, shouting "SOFI!!!". It's some of my campers from last year! They all hug me and giggle and chatter, and I try very hard not to cry. It was so good seeing them again. On the way back to the Y, we pass the Robin Hood flour company building, and I wipe away a tear. Start humming "Little Piece of Heaven." God, I'm such a sap! JULY 25, 1999. I spent a lot of time at Erin's this afternoon trying to figure out how to fill in all the forms and do all the scheduling for school in September. Who'd a thunk university registration would be so incredibly complicated? Anyway, I was feeling very blah, and I sensed that she was too, but we got a lot accomplished despite our collective blah-ness. We both finalized our schedules (I won't have a class before 10am - whoo hoo!) but we won't have any classes together unless one of her choices fills up, and she ends up taking Sociology, her alternate. I'm glad we decided not to share a dorm room next year. I mean, I think it would have been fun for a while, but the novelty would have worn off eventually. I'm the type of person who needs several solid hours of sleep in order to function. She, on the other hand, could wake up at 3am to draw or sculpt or something. We'd drive each other crazy sooner or later. Sooner probably than later. It's going to be more difficult for us to remain close, however. That kind of worries me - we've never had to make an effort to be friends. We've just sort of been thrown together, and now we'll actually have to make plans to hang out. University is a big place and people change, but dammit, we're not going to drift apart. So there! Drinking Thursday nights with yer high school pal? Sound good, Eriny? Yay. JULY 24, 1999. "I've seen this happen in other people's lives and now it's happening in mine." -The Smiths (That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore) JULY 18, 1999. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear me, happy birthday to meeeeeeeeeeee!!!! Goodness, another year older. Nineteen...halfway to thirty-eight. Eeep. Pretty soon I'll be hauling little ankle-biters to school, working long hours at an unfulfilling job and plucking chin hair. Good times. But let me concentrate on the age that I am presently at. Nineteen means independence. Adulthood. And legal alcohol. Yes, nineteen is a good age to be. Unfortunately, the vast majority of my close friends (read: ALL OF THEM!) remain minors. So, instead of going to a pub, we went to a comedy club. Second City, to be exact. If you're ever in the neighbourhood of Blue Jay Way (King W. and Simcoe), definitely check the place out. We saw the show "2000 Years and Still No Flying Cars", which is a mix of sketch and improvisational comedy. Hilarious stuff. I highly recommend it. Oh, and the bartender there gave me a free shot of Goldschlager! The perqs of being Birthday Girl. You, sir, are Nosey Nelly number |
