The bamboo plant is getting pretty big, I wonder if I should cut and re-pot the tallest stalk, so that it's not coming off the (rather ugly) store-bought and painted plant. The family is apartment-hunting. We have one that we've applied for and are waiting to hear from the landlord if we have it or not. He should be calling today, tomorrow, or Thursday about it. We also have a second choice, which is not nice as the one we want, but we're applying for it today. We went to see two places yesterday and neither of them were exactly what we wanted. I'll be happy to be more central, so happy. I'm supposed to be writing a script for a radio drama I'm trying to put together, but I can't seem to find the motivation for writing. A couple nights ago I was up until four, but I was watching foreign horror movies instead of doing anything productive. The script, what I have of it, which is more of a concept than a script, is turning out to be pretty serious. I wanted this thing to be a comedy, but I suppose I am better at writing about people getting hurt than I am at writing about people doing other things. If I ever get this script finished, I will post it or a link to it in my journal. I've got one postcard that I'm going to send and it's suitably unique. I need to find at least one more, though. A reminder: If you want a card from me this Christmas, comment here.

Posted, but only after much deliberation.

I would like to die in a way that absolutely everyone agrees is a despicable way for a life to end. I might begin to deserve the hate for who I was born into, then. 

Time delivers us all to the same end. All is futile. All culminates into nothing. There is nothing to do but wait for our short lives to end, and so end the human race, and so end the earth, and so end the universe. 

We are nothing but a potential fragment of a dead universe's past. 



I saw my mother's soul escape from her body with my eyes on the night that she died. This event made me want to believe in god. A single soul does not a god make, though. I cannot believe in god simply on an emotional basis. Wanting something does not make it true. My mother's soul left her body at sunset and will never return to her body, this is all I know. This does not mean there is a god which can direct or punish and reward the souls of the once-living. I cannot believe in god and so cannot believe in any future other than a long, cold, drawn-out death for existence.

Feminism makes me so angry. It is so female-centric that it sometimes excludes me, a passionate feminist, from fighting for equality. We just get all wrapped up in retarded semantics over MY FUCKING DICK.

My dick did not oppress you. I have not raped your great-grandmother. I am simply a person who was born with a dick. I do not oppress you. 

Please deal.

We're going to be moving soon, somewhere closer to downtown. We've got a system whereby Never finds the listings online and I make the phone calls and set up the viewings, it's working well so far. She's particularly good at research and organization and she's also been on viewit.ca for the past little while in anticipation of the move anyway. I'm way better at the social side of apartment hunting so our skills complement themselves. Together we make almost a whole, entire person. 

My attempts at having a yoga routine have flopped so it's on to the next thing, lifting weights. I bought a couple 15 lb. weights and did that for a while last night, I need some information on the proper way to handle these things and rep combinations and things. I'm also worried about my back, it's been acting up recently and I should really go see someone about it. 

I seem to be taking a break from Pokemon Pearl to play Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow and Touch the Dead. Castlevania needed to grow on me, but it's really fun to play. I was happy they kept Frankenstein's monster as an enemy, since he was my favourite boss from the first game in the series. Downloading Castlevania II for the Wii virtual console turned out to be a bit of fun, but I'm playing too many games to get too deep into it at the moment. Touch the Dead is a really fun take on the House of the Dead series. It's a "rail shooter" in which you blow holes in zombies as they jump out at you. You get to visit iconic places such as the canals of Venice and the Colosseum, and the DS version feels a bit more like survival horror than it does an arcade-style shooter. I also booted up House of the Dead 2 for the PC last night to test out my new mouse, (it glows an eerie blue.) I love senseless violence.

I've been depressed for a long time now, it seems. I don't know what else to do but get outside and pretend I'm not for a while. When I'm at work I can put my state aside and have some fun with the kids or bury myself in dishes to distract myself. This week I'm not at work to support Never in finding a new place and to make phone calls as soon as the listings pop up. I feel like I'm neglecting the people I love because I'm lost in my stupid feelings. 

We keep spending money on retarded things. I want an acoustic guitar and a new gaming PC. We should stop spending so much. 

I have a new skirt, but I don't have any tops to go with it. Never is getting me some nice socks for Christmas. I love you, Never. ^_^

I really wish the world would fall into the sun.

I've undertaken the task of heading a project which is aimed at creating a radio drama with members of statementsdoing the voices and other, more technical, things. It seems to be rolling pretty well and as long as I keep everyone's momentum going, I think this can be pulled off. I would absolutely love to see a madcap Dick Tracy on crack kind of thing come out of this. It feels good to be the head of a project again.

Sorry it's so discombobulated.

My back has been hurting pretty badly. I should be getting some date-sim-style games in the mail soon. The life insurance cheque is due to arrive today, somehow I remain depressed. The first real RPG is slated to come out for the Wii soon. I am back at work a couple afternoons a week. It's time to begin planning Bronwyn's birthday party.

I scared some children while trick-or-treating last night, I was a sorcerer with long grey hair and a shredded-at-the-bottom cape. Some kid called it a "girl's costume," I'm not sure where he got that. Bron was scared last night, but when we got home she still had a pretty heavy bag of treats.

I need to see my doctor about my back, though my mother-in-law is suggesting going straight to a chiropractor without seeing the doctor first. 

Bron and I are going to the local greasy spoon for french toast soon.