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I'm going home for Christmas tomorrow, I think. I get to see my dog! Maybe when I get home I can actually go Christmas shopping. I still have to buy for three or four more people and I'm starting to get a little nervous. I want to punch Martha Stewart, Regis Philbin, et al. in the face for reminding me, yet again, that "it's only one more week 'til Christmas!" just now. Fuck off, morning show hosts.
On Saturday I finished the essay I had been putting off for weeks. If only I could be as productive as I am during my final day of writing during every day of writing. I wrote eight pages in less than eight hours on Saturday, but for five days I had been stuck on page six. Pretty ridiculous. I really should leave myself time to edit my papers too - I can only hope there are no more than a few glaring errors like half-words, unfinished sentences and incorrect 'there/their/they're' usage. I'll cross my legs and fingers that a paper on Flickr as a panopticonic site where self-portrait artists ultimately have no control over their own images, being under an intricate system of surveillance and where participation in the community is a constant shifting of power relations, will make some sense to my Professor the grader. We shall see. I'll just worry about being more efficient on the writing of the next two - at least, for them, I'll have my dog beside me at home for help.
I returned home grumpy on Saturday night after dropping off my essay, and Tudor was naked in the kitchen cooking dinner. You can't get much better than that. My mood soon switched to the positive and my stresses of the day melted away until we were cuddled on the couch with tea and French cinema.
Yesterday Tudor played hookie from work, claiming something about a plane crash and a comatose state, and we spent most of the day never leaving each other's arms. It may have been the best day off ever. Eventually needing some fresh air and eggs, we travelled down the street in the late afternoon to the geriatric mall/Cherrhill Village Mall where Christmas displays have been placed near benches where they twitch and sing and generally freak people out. Later on, after we filled our bellies with some roasted chicken and during a few Christmas movies (and a Canadian short entitled 'Turkey'), I sat down to decide on my future for the next five years. I decided on setting certain hopes on Toronto, Hamilton and Montreal. Today I shall begin getting the application process underway, or maybe just avoid it a li' bit longer. We shall see how this one turns out. There's always Starbucks for the ridiculously over-educated.
Tudor should be coming home soon. He's quitting his job today in favour of a prospective job that won't kill his mind and soul, and in moving back to a city that won't make him want to run into oncoming traffic (like me). I should go and get dressed soon.
On Saturday I finished the essay I had been putting off for weeks. If only I could be as productive as I am during my final day of writing during every day of writing. I wrote eight pages in less than eight hours on Saturday, but for five days I had been stuck on page six. Pretty ridiculous. I really should leave myself time to edit my papers too - I can only hope there are no more than a few glaring errors like half-words, unfinished sentences and incorrect 'there/their/they're' usage. I'll cross my legs and fingers that a paper on Flickr as a panopticonic site where self-portrait artists ultimately have no control over their own images, being under an intricate system of surveillance and where participation in the community is a constant shifting of power relations, will make some sense to my Professor the grader. We shall see. I'll just worry about being more efficient on the writing of the next two - at least, for them, I'll have my dog beside me at home for help.
I returned home grumpy on Saturday night after dropping off my essay, and Tudor was naked in the kitchen cooking dinner. You can't get much better than that. My mood soon switched to the positive and my stresses of the day melted away until we were cuddled on the couch with tea and French cinema.
Yesterday Tudor played hookie from work, claiming something about a plane crash and a comatose state, and we spent most of the day never leaving each other's arms. It may have been the best day off ever. Eventually needing some fresh air and eggs, we travelled down the street in the late afternoon to the geriatric mall/Cherrhill Village Mall where Christmas displays have been placed near benches where they twitch and sing and generally freak people out. Later on, after we filled our bellies with some roasted chicken and during a few Christmas movies (and a Canadian short entitled 'Turkey'), I sat down to decide on my future for the next five years. I decided on setting certain hopes on Toronto, Hamilton and Montreal. Today I shall begin getting the application process underway, or maybe just avoid it a li' bit longer. We shall see how this one turns out. There's always Starbucks for the ridiculously over-educated.
Tudor should be coming home soon. He's quitting his job today in favour of a prospective job that won't kill his mind and soul, and in moving back to a city that won't make him want to run into oncoming traffic (like me). I should go and get dressed soon.
