Sleeping with the Monster-Cat

For the last week or so, I've been cat-sitting for some friends of mine. I've hung out at the house often enough, and so I was fairly well-acquainted with Emmerson the Giant, a cat larger than most dogs I know*. I can't remember exactly what breed of cat Emmerson is, but I believe it's a cousin to the Raccuma, a cross between a raccoon and a puma; of course, he's inherited the feral instincts of neither of these wild ancestral creatures. His behaviour most often resembles that of a large space-foam pillow, and I would use him as one on a more regular basis if it weren't for the fact that his fur behaves more like spider-web than any hair I've ever seen. What I'm trying to say here is that this cat is huge and weird. But taking care of a gigantic space-foam pillow cat covered in spiderweb hair, while strange, doesn't actually sound that hard. And it isn't, as long as you don't try to sleep in the house.

A day without pens

On Wednesday, I woke up and realized that today was the day that I could begin registering for courses at the prestigious university I attend. I excitedly logged on to WebAdvisor and prepared myself for the satisfying moment when I could press the ‘register’ button on the three courses I’d picked out almost a month beforehand. And then I remembered that pesky little honours permission form that I have had to fill out 3 times in the past year and a half, and yet always forget I need. Damn that form.

The Pollock and Pollock Gossip Show

Several weeks ago I was stopped on the way to work by a woman named Natalie Pollock, who wanted to interview me about the fines for riding a bike on the sidewalk. I complied, and ended up getting on the Natalie Pollock News Show, where my video has been viewed by 156 whole people!*

Stunt Flying

On Tuesday, my boyfriend took me for an aerobatic demonstration flight in a Pitts S2B. In layman's terms, that's...well, I'm not sure what this would actually be in layman's terms, because when I told my coworkers that I went stunt flying, which seemed like a fairly normal term for it, they looked at me like I was speaking another language*.

That morning, when I found out where we were going, I was very excited. My way of being excited is to not talk very much and maybe have my eyes grow slightly wider, which can easily be mistaken for my Screen Saver Face**, which is often mistaken for my Sad Face, my Tired Face, or my Six-Year-Old Lost in the Middle of West Edmonton Mall Face. In fact, I may only have one real facial expression, but anyway, on Tuesday, this face meant Excitement.

The Intrepid Dezine Half-Marathon: Then and Now

Last year I ran my first-evar half marathon. I set it as a goal around New Years and spent the next 5 and a half months training for it. I took it very seriously. I went running roughly 4 times a week and played with the incline-setting on the treadmill to make it feel like I was running up and down hills (not that Winnipeg has hills, but I was afraid that the marathon course might suddenly develop hills and I refused to be beaten by any sort of hills, imaginary or otherwise).

This is why I should never be left unattended

Actually, there are many reasons why I should never be left unattended, especially near bodies of water deep enough to submerge a body in, or near anything that effectively tampers with the natural pigmentation of hair, skin, or clothing. I still remember the day my cousin and I were out walking near the man-made lake by her house and how hard it was to explain my logic to her father after we returned half an hour later drenched in lake-water with our shoes full of mud. And then, after Spring Break '07, during which I locked myself in my dorm room for several days drawing multicoloured vines all over my body, my sister sent my roommate an email politely requesting that she never let me near permanent markers of any colour ever again.

Taturday

My Saturday is a day that most of the world actually refers to as 'Tuesday'. It is the one day of the week when I am basically guaranteed to not have to get up early, not go to work, and definitely not lead a church service followed by a lunch potluck where I spend most of the time trying to think of appropriate questions to ask a pastor from the DR Congo. Ah, Tuesday: a day where I am allowed to do nothing at all*.