awkward as heck.

So, I had a really... odd day at work today.

First, I had a conversation with a guy about an ex-fiancee who, before the wedding, stole the car he bought for their honeymoon, and went off to become a prositute (or already was a prostitute; it was unclear). Then he told me that she was one of 'the worst kind' and had even done "such a thing as a blowjob". Then he asked me if I knew what a blowjob was. I said I'd heard of it.

Second, I took another guy on a walk to the graveyard behind the old folk's home (nice view) to visit his mother's grave. I was having major issues finding the grave (turns out I mixed up the row and plot numbers, but never you mind). When I found the right row, I thought I'd get him to wait behind me so I could find the grave first instead of dragging him all over (...again). I looked around, and when I turned my head back to see if he was still doing okay, he had his... cheerleading baton... out and was peeing. In the graveyard. He narrowly missed some woman's grave who, whatever she may have done in life, did not deserve to be whizzed on. I feel like I'm going to be punished by the cosmos for letting this happen. I was so shocked that I was unable to speak/stop the horrific act taking place right in front of me. I settled for looking the other way. When I turned back, the deathstick was gone, but the image still cannot be erased from my mind.

I think I'll just cry myself to sleep tonight.


I leave you with this picture I took of the river, that your mind may be cleansed of bad mental pictures I may have caused you to have.

so, i'm embarrassed.

We had just finished eating dinner and laughing at Jordan as he ate his dinner without hands, as punishment for not changing the empty toilet roll in the bathroom. I put my dishes in the lave-vaiselle, put the greek salad into a (somewhat) smaller container (turns out I leave much to be desired when it comes to estimating volume), and decided I would make a quick trip to the salle de bain to faire du pipi, if you know what I mean.

On my way there, I passed Mikael, who was carrying a mop, apparently to clean the kitchen. I stepped into the bathroom, closed the door, and noticed that the floor was wet.

"Hmmph", I thought, because I am just as eloquent in my head as I am when speaking. I did what I had to do, flushed, and got up to wash my hands.

"Uuuhh, Shoshana?", said Mikael in his ever charming french accent through the door. "You should not be in there. The floor... I need to clean it. It is dirty."

"It's a little late", I said back, drying my hands on the towel.

"Uhhh, Shoshana, there is something you should know..." Mikael's voice grew more apprehensive. I opened the door the see him waiting in the doorway, mop and bucket in hand, and looking a little uncomfortable, but also like he was laughing at some private joke.

"What? What's the matter?" Whatever it was, it couldn't be that bad... Right?

"Uhh... the floor, it is covered in pee. That is why it is dirty."

...


Apparently the toilet had overflowed.

Mikael was carrying the mop to the kitchen to fill the bucket.

I had to walk on my knees to the bedroom to keep my pieds du pipi from sullying the carpet.

FML.

walking home.

Let it be known, I LOVE overcast days. Well, at least the ones that don't make me feel lame and lazy.


Those poles made me feel short.


What midgets see when they look at the Nechako River.


What averagely-heighted people see.


What midgets' feet see when they go to this person's house.


Puddlefront property.


What tall stalkers see when they look at our house from across the street.


What your mum sees.

the manor.

The gang on the way to our speed dating-esque job interviews. Five minutes with each person, Tristan yelling "TIME'S UP; SWITCH". Good times. Oh, by the way, I am not in this picture because our photographer that we hired got H1N1 like, THAT DAY, and I had to fill in.

---------

We started work placements on Monday Oct 19. I am working at the local old folks home.

CHA-FREAKIN-CHING.

My duties are essentially to have conversations, make posters, and fetch the seniors their hot chocolate. YEAH.

Day One:
-Tour of the Manor to refresh my memory.
-Stroke Club, where I played bingo, ate cake, and won a bottle of hand sanitizer (YEAH I KNOW). Oh, and they gave me a T-shirt. SNAP.
-Cardmaking using scrapbooking materials. Me and the CUTEST OLD MAN pretty much made the most boss card ever made (...by us. my fault.)
-Adding up numbers in the stat book (they keep track of what activities the residents are involved in, how many minutes are spent one-on-one, etc). The most math I have done in what feels like a century. But ended up being relaxing.
-Forgot the mirror that Mah boss gave me after she heard about the dearth of reflective objects for us girls to get ready in front of.

Day Two:
-Fitness Club, where you kick a big exercise ball around the circle, lift 1 lb weights, and play ring toss... FOR POINTS. The lady beside me won. 'Cause I was sitting by her, je pense.
-Lunch (okay, so I had this yesterday too, but today I had DELICIOUS VEGETARIAN LASAGNA. Thank-you, Fred and Mikael)
-Chatted with some ladies while they ate. One has five stuffed animals that she has named and likes to keep with her. Pretty dang fly.
-Portered peeps across the hallway to listen to a guy play piano. There was this one guy who kept doing those sweet cowboy holler things they do in squaredance. I wish I had his guts (You have NO IDEA how often I want to do that, but chicken out).
-Made posters of some pictures they took around the Manor and on an outing. Used a buttload of tape.
-Got people their hot chocolate and coffee. Made me REALLY crave hot chocolate.
-Chatted with a lady over her hot chocolate (without even telling her, I gave her the sugar-free hot chocolate for diabetics because she wasn't on the list of resident dietary needs on the fridge, just to err on the side of caution. Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do? actually, I think it's because she's in the day program that comes in for activities, rather than an actuall resident, haha)
-Remembered the mirror.

ALSO. Almost every door has a keypad that you have to type a code into for it to open, so that residents with bad dementia can't wander off, for example. I forget to type in the code a LOT, so I've been setting off alarms all over the place. Vair vair smooth.


This picture has nothing to do with what I'm writing about, but it was REALLY windy on the way to the interviews, so we tried to take a model shot. I look kind of like I eat babies.

---------

Anywho, the only issue I have with my job is that sitting in the break room is SO BORING. Everyone is nice, but our conversation topics of choice are SO different. They talk about property tax, and switching shifts. I'm only good if you bring up the theory of relativity, or rocket science. Also, fart jokes. Oh well, it's not a big deal, since I'm not there for sparkling conversation--I'm there to PARRRTY EVERY DAY. Y'all are gonna need some hip replacements all up in there quick-like. (EG: I SPEND TOMORROW AFTERNOON TEACHING PARKER HOW TO USE WII BOXING)

In other news, we went to community volleyball at the highschool tonight, from 8-10 PM. SO FUN. Don't get me wrong, I still play like I did in highschool (at this point, groans can be heard from the audience), but GOSH DARN IT, I am going to be able to play sports decently by the end of Katimavik if it kills me! Most of us wore our Katimavik shirtS (REPRESENT), and we all played on the same team for the most part, which was too bad for the my group, 'cause we kept losing (I am so skilled), haha, but they were really, ridiculously nice about it, so that took a lot fo the pressure off. 8D The program runs weekly, and I am STOKED to go again! My goal for the time leading up to next tuesday is to learn how to serve... I got one serve over the net tonight. My goal is at least 3 next time, haha.


See that arena? WE SKATE THERE FOR FREE, AND FREE INCLUDES SKATE RENTALS.

I. Love. Vanderhoof.

picture heavy

Hoof House.


Fellow asian from Mass-O. Saki-chaaannnn~


Tomas the Angry Mexican


Marley, the girl I told my placenta story to.


Scott: probably the most popular guy at Mass-O. Also my wife.


The Merry [Wo]men of Katimavik, clad in matching green. [I am Robin Hood, btw]


I bought blue coveralls for ONE DOLLAR. I love Vanderhoof.


You aren't allowed to get drunk during Katimavik, but we thought we'd act like it anyway. The best alcohol is the one you thought you drank, but didn't.


The park near our house. I went down the slide there, but I think I am too fat, because the slide made a lot of scary noises, and then I wet myself (just a squirt).

the first days

KATIMAVIK IS AWESOMESJFHRIUTGJDFJGNJFVJ.



Seriously, so much fun.

My brothers, dad, grandma, and two aunts saw me off at Vancouver airport on Wednesday oct 7. Much bawling was involved on the end of my female relatives, haha. They're so cute. My flight was only an hour, so that was cool. I got to sit by a girl from Chiliwack who's in the Prince George group (I think). She was really nice, and didn't look entirely uncomfortable when I told her my placenta story, so that's good.

All the Northern BC Katimagroups met at the Prince George Airport, and went to Ness Lake Bible Camp from there for Mass-O (doesn't sound as epic when you say "orientation with all the groups from our cluster", but I have to explain what it is somehow.) Mass-O was good times: essentially we sat through a bunch of workshops on rules and guidelines, etc, with pauses for food, washroom breaks, and truly inspirational icebreaker games (after we broke the proverbial ice on thursday morning, friday had no choice but to settle for "energizers" in lieu of get-to-know you-games, but that meant that we got to do this cool East Coast jig thinger. It is best done drunk, according to the Nova Scotian guy I was talking to, haha.

Everyone was really friendly, and it made me sad that I couldn't have everyone that I made friends with at Mass-O in my group, but truly, Vanderhoof team is awesome (RAISE THE HOOF!). Our PL's a pretty cool guy too, so I have high hopes for my first trimester abroad.

For future reference:

LA - girl from N Ont, she, the aforementioned Nova Scotian dude, and I got into doing the "lion pose" (thank-you, Rodney Yee yoga cards), or at least the part where you cross your eyes, stick out your tongue and roar like a lion. We were doing it lots during a panel workshop where the PL's got asked questions about their personal Katimavik experiences (most were past participants, and one of them had signs like "APPLAUSE", "SILENCE", "LAUGHTER", and "AWWW". Well, we three thought It would be funny to do the lion roar instead of one of the "AWWW"s, but as I have poor coordination, I roared waaay too loud. And it is not an attractive, sexy roar; it is a deep, mannish, gutteral roar. The whole next day, I had people being like "That was you?!" when they heard about it. I am sooo suave; admit it.

Jazmin - Hailin' from the B-TOBE! We were in the same cabin at Mass-O, and she is really awesome as well. Brigham: she really likes Owl City, haha, so we listened to the album I put on my ipod at your prompting!

Jessica - Fellow BCer! She and I are bonding over our mutual ability of speaking English waaay better than French (really diplomatic way of saying we don't parle the francais very bien).

Jordan - Dude's got some crazy music skills! He was wowing us at Mass-O by singing the songs from his part in Grease, and when we got to the Vanderhoof house on Saturday afternoon, we found out he plays violin and he's really good at that too. Background music hasn't been a problem either, since his laptop is loaded with songs from musicals. (FTW) Very funny guy.

Tom - Apparently he used to have a ponytail down to his butt, haha. He plays the djembe really well, so we often get cool beats going on in the background when we're hanging out in the living room. If he doesn't have his drum, he plays on his chest and leg, haha. Very entertaining guy, and has the great power of eating tons and being very fit at the same time. Jealous, haha.

Andreanne - Cute francophone girl! She has been super patient with me and lets me practice my french (POUSSE EN L'AIR!). So, so nice, and really good english! (I am kind of worried I won't learn much french, because all the francophones in our group speak english tres tres bien!)

Wendy - Totally jealous of her bilingual SKILLS, also, she's lived all over Canada. Majorly useful as a translator, haha. We had an awesome time playing MAD GAB this afternoon (dang, I love that game), and she is so so nice as well (sensing a pattern?)!

Mikael - Francophone from FRANCE! Dude has seriously long hair, haha, so he works this epic bun most of the time. The girls want to straighten it sometime, haha, to see how long it will get! Really funny, even with the language barrier.

Fred (girl) - We have two Fred's in our team, so we call them Fred (girl) and Fred (boy). Fred (girl) has got some seriously cool style; definitely love her clothes. The security alarm in the Vanderhoof house doesn't actually work, but it's hardwired into the house so whenever you open the door it says "Side Door" in a computer voice and beeps. It bugged her so much in the beginning, haha, but we named it Gertrude, and put eyes and a moustache on the alarm, and she seems to have inegrated well into the Hoof now, haha.

Fred (boy) - Such a funny, nice guy. He raps really well too; like a french Vanilla Ice or something, haha. Unfortunately, he decided Katimavik wasn't for him, and that someone else would enjoy it more, so he's leaving us tomorrow morning! Sad, but Katimavik definitely isn't for everyone. We will miss him!

Alriighhttt. On to the house! We live in what is said to be the second largest house in Vanderhoof, and there is a fair bit of room. Our PL keeps telling us not to get used to it, since it's quite a bit larger than average, but I'll enjoy it while I can! We are in desperate need of coathangers and a mirror in the room I'm in (with 4 other girls), but really, no one has any coathangers right now. I'm currently using 3, and then the rest is at the foot of my bunk (top! right by a window with a bullet hole in it! bullethole number 1 of 3, if you were wondering). In the basement, it used to be a daycare, and in one of the back rooms there's a HUGE red stain on the wall, with smaller stains in the main daycare room outside of it, so this is the theory:

We live in an ex-drughouse, that just happened to be running a daycare in the basement (maybe to throw cops off their trail?), and one of the toddlers saw something he shouldn't have seen. They tried to silence him in the back room, but he managed to crawl out into the main daycare room, leaving the stains along the baseboard and lower part of the wall. I'm not sure what happens after that, but if I recover any more forensic evidence, I will update you.


In the dark, you cannot see the peeling paint, haha.

Hmmm, other than that, we do interviews for our work placements this friday, so I'll get to start work on Monday!

AND IT SNOWED YESTERDAY. Not a lot, but some. I am excited.


This is Denver, the house pet. He is asexual, as you can see in the picture. This inspired me to write a few short stories about him and his failed love life. Clothes in toilet paper, by Andreanne and I.



BTW, I work out.

Love you all!

spray-on lungs

So, I'm essentially packed, except for some 71% wool socks and "High Performance Base Layer" things I got today. That just leaves waterproofing my outerwear (I feel like a tool typing the word "outerwear"). I sprayed (somehow, I just don't like that conjugation. I feel like it should be "I sprew on the first coat", or something) on the first coat this morning, but I think I inhaled some of the silicone, cause my chest hurt for a while afterwards.

(This was where I remember that I haven't sprayed the second coat yet, and go out to do it)

I inhaled more of the spray I think. Maybe it will make it harder for me to drown because my lungs are semi-waterproofed. Huzzah. Just imagine:

Through some catastrophic equipment malfunction, the door of the plane violently detaches from the aircraft, creating a vaccuum that threatens to suck away the passengers like tapioca pearls from the bottom of a large bubble tea. Women and children scream in fear, men assume the fetal position and sob quietly (because all the sound is being sucked out of the cabin). Shoshana Okano, undercover agent, is the only one with a cool enough head to save the 317 people aboard WestJest flight 109.
"Attention, everyone!" Agent Okano bellows, her voice far too powerful to fall prey to something so proletariat as suction. "Hold tightly to your seats. I will come and lash you down using strips of cloth from my Armani suit and authentic pashmina that I made myself from the wool of the changthangi goat indigenous to the Himelayas."
Agent Okano went to work immediately, so immediately that she might have been lashing down screaming passengers as the door was detaching from the airplane. As she got to the final row, Shoshana finshed the complicated equation she had been doing in her head.
"This plane is 54.4 kg too heavy to arrive safely at Prince George airport. I will jump off of the plane with my carry-on so that these people can live." With that, Agent Shoshana Okano tied the last strip of her authentic changthangi wool pashmina around a young child, saluted no one in particular, and flung herself out of the open hatch.
As she fell the through the air, she answered a message on her Blackberry. So many people these days let distractions get in the way of their work.
She hit Lake Ness like a moose charging a rabbit in a hurricane--hard. The blow knocked her unconscious (where it would have killed a lesser human), and ripped her Luis Vuitton carry-on bag in half, sending her personal effects into the deep. She sank slowly, all the way to bottom of the lake. She awoke with a start, her empty lungs sucking in roughly 640 ml of lakewater. The sharp pain caused her to convulse, but she knew what was happening; the same thing had occurred in the secret testing tank at the secret facility at the secret location secreted in the most secrete part of a secret place. She had been part of a secret experiment involving secret chemicals, such as silicone, in an attempt to enable agents to breathe underwater in the event that they fell out of a plane during a 1.2 hour-long flight into a small lake. The experiment had been a success.

See what I mean? I'm set. Except for the part where I mix tenses in my writing and don't care enough to fix it. That sucks.

UR THE SKANK

read tihs gurls lame post : lamelamelamestupiddum

TIHS IZ REEL BEUTY:


SHEZ SUHC A HORE. i H8 HER!11!!!!! i'M NOT ORNGE iM TANNN. aN i dID NOT PHOTOSOHP TIS BAERLY AT ALL.

alriite, gosip gurlz on noaw, bibi

asylum blue!

Now, despite the fact that Roger said it was a 12-year-old thing to do, I loved my vogue+elle-plastered walls. They made me feel safe from the creepy baby blue that was hidden underneath them. But since my Mom wants to paint after I leave, they all had to come down.





Oddly, I felt far more comfortable having Sasha and Coco staring at me while I slept than with a colour most people feel safe leaving their babies with overnight. Blue on walls can just be so... weird.



Tomorrow, WestJet will take me to the center of our province.