ug....
Train of Thought
All Aboard!
Chugga, chugga! Chugga, chugga! Chugga, chugga! WOo! WOOOooo!
...to be concluded....
June 27, 2003
June 25, 2003
6 Million Ways to Die
Ever notice that there is only one way to come into this world? Well, science has made it possible to make infertile couples have children, but essentially the goal is to join two gametes together to form an embryo. Wow. What a joy and wonder. Now think about this. There are millions of ways to die, even if you group them into catagories. Let's do that, cause us humans like to do that.
Cancer: Lung Cancer, Brain Cancer, Skin Cancer, Toungue Cancer, Liver Cancer, Prostate Cancer, Breast Cancer, just to name a few.
Disease (environmental): Heart Disease, Alchiemerz, Diabetes type 2, are some common ones.
Disese (Virus/Bacteria): Flesh eating disease, SARS, the flu, AIDS, malaria, etc.
Disese (Genetic): obesity, leukimia, diabetes type one, down syndrome, etc
Accidents: Car Crash, the bungie cord broke, got inbetween the mother bear and her cub, stuck in undertow, plane crash.
Social: Assasination, Patricide, Infanticide, Suicide, Homocide, any thing ending in -cide
Poison: Over dose of illegal drugs, Reading the prescription wrong (ie, says:take once every two hours, but you take twice every one hour), ingesting house hold cleaning products, poisonous snakes and insects, etc.
Exploding Organs: Tonsils, Appendix, Bladder (Tyco Brahe died from a burst bladder. He was at dinner with the king, and it was considered rude to leave the table before the king, and he REALLY had to go...That's okay, no one liked him any way)
Other: old age, still born, choking, drowing, falling from really high, fire, hypothermia, spontanious combustion, starvation, dehydration, sentenced to death, dying savnig some one's life, pulling the plug (debatable) , abortion (debatable), etc.
Just something to think about. I'm not saying this to make us depressed, just a makes you realise you gotta live life to the fullest, I suppose. Either that, or spend the rest of your life paranoid about dying, and die from extreme fear of dying. WhatS that called again?
Cancer: Lung Cancer, Brain Cancer, Skin Cancer, Toungue Cancer, Liver Cancer, Prostate Cancer, Breast Cancer, just to name a few.
Disease (environmental): Heart Disease, Alchiemerz, Diabetes type 2, are some common ones.
Disese (Virus/Bacteria): Flesh eating disease, SARS, the flu, AIDS, malaria, etc.
Disese (Genetic): obesity, leukimia, diabetes type one, down syndrome, etc
Accidents: Car Crash, the bungie cord broke, got inbetween the mother bear and her cub, stuck in undertow, plane crash.
Social: Assasination, Patricide, Infanticide, Suicide, Homocide, any thing ending in -cide
Poison: Over dose of illegal drugs, Reading the prescription wrong (ie, says:take once every two hours, but you take twice every one hour), ingesting house hold cleaning products, poisonous snakes and insects, etc.
Exploding Organs: Tonsils, Appendix, Bladder (Tyco Brahe died from a burst bladder. He was at dinner with the king, and it was considered rude to leave the table before the king, and he REALLY had to go...That's okay, no one liked him any way)
Other: old age, still born, choking, drowing, falling from really high, fire, hypothermia, spontanious combustion, starvation, dehydration, sentenced to death, dying savnig some one's life, pulling the plug (debatable) , abortion (debatable), etc.
Just something to think about. I'm not saying this to make us depressed, just a makes you realise you gotta live life to the fullest, I suppose. Either that, or spend the rest of your life paranoid about dying, and die from extreme fear of dying. WhatS that called again?
June 23, 2003
The Incredible Hulk
I was just listening to the CBC radio and "Sounds Like Canada" was on. The blog http://incrediblehulk.blogspot.com was mentioned on the radio because they were doing a peice about the movie that has recently come out. I recomend it. It's amusing. The site I mean...since I havenT seen the movie.
June 19, 2003
Karen's philosophy for highschool:
advice of the day: don't do math homework more than twice a week, or else you might start actually understanding it. If you already know the math, then what's the point in doing it? If you don't understand the math, then how the hell do they excpect you to do it?
I wrote that advice a year ago on my other blog that I lost for while. In fact, I think I followed my own advice a little too well, since my entire OAC year I did abusolutly no homework, unless it was to be handed in for marks. I even went so far as to study for tests the day of, and all exams the night before. It's a wonder that I made it threw all those sciences and math, and maintained an 80% average.
advice of the day: don't do math homework more than twice a week, or else you might start actually understanding it. If you already know the math, then what's the point in doing it? If you don't understand the math, then how the hell do they excpect you to do it?
I wrote that advice a year ago on my other blog that I lost for while. In fact, I think I followed my own advice a little too well, since my entire OAC year I did abusolutly no homework, unless it was to be handed in for marks. I even went so far as to study for tests the day of, and all exams the night before. It's a wonder that I made it threw all those sciences and math, and maintained an 80% average.
I am finaly out of high school. It seems so surreal. How is it that I look back on the past five years (since i'm the last of the OAC's) and feel like I'm so old and have been through so much, and can tell so many stories? I can only imagine how old I will feel when I'm fourty, or eighty even.
Well with my new found freedom, and a whole summer ahead of me, I decided to spend some time surfing the web, as I love to do, but don't usually have the time for. My big habbit is looking up strange questions and things on search engines that have come up during the day. How ever with out the time to really read every thing I find, I usually book mark it. Today was one of those days where I sat down and went threw a bunch of them. Here are some things that I've looked up in the past, or plan on looking up in the future.
Things to look up if you're board:
Marcel Duchamp's unfinished piece: Virgin stripped bare by her bachelors, even (sculpture by the father of dadaism)
Schrodinger's Cat Box (thought experiment)
Things that birds can smell (certain gases and blood)
How addicting is cheese? (1/10th the potency of morphine)
Well with my new found freedom, and a whole summer ahead of me, I decided to spend some time surfing the web, as I love to do, but don't usually have the time for. My big habbit is looking up strange questions and things on search engines that have come up during the day. How ever with out the time to really read every thing I find, I usually book mark it. Today was one of those days where I sat down and went threw a bunch of them. Here are some things that I've looked up in the past, or plan on looking up in the future.
Things to look up if you're board:
Marcel Duchamp's unfinished piece: Virgin stripped bare by her bachelors, even (sculpture by the father of dadaism)
Schrodinger's Cat Box (thought experiment)
Things that birds can smell (certain gases and blood)
How addicting is cheese? (1/10th the potency of morphine)
June 18, 2003
Wow. My blog is really starting to come together. I'm very excited. Now I know how to add the links where is says (said:if i've changed it by the time you read this) "edit me". I'm sure there are many ppl out there that think imma fool! It's just that all that template jargon really intimidates me! But as you can see I put up the tag box all by my self! I'm so proud of me! All I have to do now is find some links that I would like on this blogspot. any suggestions? you can just tag me!!! hahaaha. okay, enough.
June 16, 2003
The other night, I almost became a statistic. I was walking home late at night, by my self, on a dark street, after drinking, like they always tell you not to do.
Out of nowhere, a black sports car pulled up, and the guy tried talking to me. "Hey baby," the usual. I ignored him, but he kept presisting. I look inside the car to look him in the face. He goes on ahead a little, but then he got out of his car!
You may think that it gets more interesting, or scary, depending on who you are, but it doesn't.
Luckily i had my self phone on and called my ex-boyfriend's house, as it was the first number that came to my head. (I'd been dating him for almost a quarter of my life, dialing his number is reflex) I began recounting my current situation to my ex's mother very loudly while walking away from the man persuing me. When I turned to see how quickly he was aproaching me, he was getting back into the car, and drove away.
No I didn't take a cab, cause I don't have the dough.
No I didn't call a friend to drive me, before hand that seemed unnessisary.
No I didn't get the guy's licence plate, I can't see that far. I guess it's time to stop procrastinating my eye doctor appointement...
Out of nowhere, a black sports car pulled up, and the guy tried talking to me. "Hey baby," the usual. I ignored him, but he kept presisting. I look inside the car to look him in the face. He goes on ahead a little, but then he got out of his car!
You may think that it gets more interesting, or scary, depending on who you are, but it doesn't.
Luckily i had my self phone on and called my ex-boyfriend's house, as it was the first number that came to my head. (I'd been dating him for almost a quarter of my life, dialing his number is reflex) I began recounting my current situation to my ex's mother very loudly while walking away from the man persuing me. When I turned to see how quickly he was aproaching me, he was getting back into the car, and drove away.
No I didn't take a cab, cause I don't have the dough.
No I didn't call a friend to drive me, before hand that seemed unnessisary.
No I didn't get the guy's licence plate, I can't see that far. I guess it's time to stop procrastinating my eye doctor appointement...
June 14, 2003
I find that I am a binge reader. I can go months with out reading more than my horiscope in the paper.
Then suddenly, without warning, I'll wake up one morning and pull a book off my dusty shelf. I'll read it savagely, consuming paragraphes at a time, as if my brain is straved of informaiton. I'll read continuously, on the bus, walking, waiting, eating. Sometimes, I will deny myself food when I enter the last stages of the book, since cooking takes consentration that I could otherwise be using to read.
Often, my cats are the only things that can pull me out of this sort of heavy hipnosis, with there urgent cries to be fed -but only barely. I brush them aside, as if they were a strand of hair that fell infront of my face, I...must...read...on.
Then, when I have read the last page, and I am thrown back into my mundain routine, I feel disturbed. My life seems to be missing something, my thougthts are racing as I try to find several meanings to the authors writtings. I want to tell someone about my foggy thoughts, they are hot and steamy, about to evaporate into the air, lost or recycled in some demension of subconcious desires, but I tell no one. To preserve these feelings, I want desperatly to start another, but upon reading the first sentence of any book, I feel like it's just not the same and would ruin the experince I felt.
This time, the books were Go Ask Alice -Anon and Steps -Jerzy Kosinski
Then suddenly, without warning, I'll wake up one morning and pull a book off my dusty shelf. I'll read it savagely, consuming paragraphes at a time, as if my brain is straved of informaiton. I'll read continuously, on the bus, walking, waiting, eating. Sometimes, I will deny myself food when I enter the last stages of the book, since cooking takes consentration that I could otherwise be using to read.
Often, my cats are the only things that can pull me out of this sort of heavy hipnosis, with there urgent cries to be fed -but only barely. I brush them aside, as if they were a strand of hair that fell infront of my face, I...must...read...on.
Then, when I have read the last page, and I am thrown back into my mundain routine, I feel disturbed. My life seems to be missing something, my thougthts are racing as I try to find several meanings to the authors writtings. I want to tell someone about my foggy thoughts, they are hot and steamy, about to evaporate into the air, lost or recycled in some demension of subconcious desires, but I tell no one. To preserve these feelings, I want desperatly to start another, but upon reading the first sentence of any book, I feel like it's just not the same and would ruin the experince I felt.
This time, the books were Go Ask Alice -Anon and Steps -Jerzy Kosinski
June 06, 2003
I'm so ashamed that it happend at my school. Last night there was a tequeilla (sp?) sunrise for grad. Some of the guys got a little too drunk and spray painted a woman spread eagle with penis going into it, and the words "titeee whiteee in brown town" and then they broke into the school, stole the phys.ed. equipement and shit and pissed all over it in the feild, in the gynasium, and the walls out side. Only two ppl got arrested.
i am a friend of daves. we are very different, but i think we get along pretty well. he and i live far apart from each other. Cananda is a big place. We live at opposite ends. I miss dave. He drives much more than I do. I don't drive at all. I bus, walk, or bike. Summer is coming. You know it when you smell that summer smell. Here's a poem:
Proffesional People
I suppose professional people always iron their clothes,
So it always looks like they're new.
I've never seen a proffesional people wear a sensible shoe;
If they ever had to run, I don't know what they'd do...
Proffesional people wear blazers...not jackets,
And trousers.... not pants.
You can tell a proffesional people from just one glance:
Proffesional people's first impression is their only chance.
Made that up this morning on the way to school. hope you like!
Special 'K'
Proffesional People
I suppose professional people always iron their clothes,
So it always looks like they're new.
I've never seen a proffesional people wear a sensible shoe;
If they ever had to run, I don't know what they'd do...
Proffesional people wear blazers...not jackets,
And trousers.... not pants.
You can tell a proffesional people from just one glance:
Proffesional people's first impression is their only chance.
Made that up this morning on the way to school. hope you like!
Special 'K'
June 05, 2003
I was looking at some of the other blog sites, and now I know what I don't want to do. The question is what shall I do? I'd like this spot to have some sort of meaning, and not just be some usless space in the cybernetic world, like the blogger spot that I began about a year ago. I don't even know how to delete it. But I want it gone. Does it seem like I'm purging my past? Gee. Maybe I am, but that part of my past is pretty useless. If you need proof, visit scoot_fairy.blogger.com , but really, that would be a waste of time.
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