i spent last night not doing anything at all related to homework. most of the night was spent chatting, playing stupid computer games and listening to ariz0na and spyguy mixing live over the internet. wow, i sound like i might actually know what the hell i’m talking about. or maybe not. it’s entirely jim’s fault that i listen to progressive now. too bad i can’t blame him for my loving it, too.
i’m sure i’ve previously mentioned that i live in a heritage house, built somewhere around 1913 and originally used as a boy’s school. there was a small blurb in the local paper about it last week. luckily one of my neighbours clipped it and put it up in the hall for us to see, or i would have missed it. of course, i stole the clip to scan here at work. i’ll put it back when i get home, but i’m sure someone will be pissed when they notice it’s missing. i thought it would be cool to make a comparision between the photo they took in the 1940’s and one i took when i moved in. if you’re interested, you can see it here.
my hair hates me. i should punish it.
i’m half-way done my xmas shopping and it’s not even december yet. this has got to be a first.
if you love me, you will buy me these. no, really. buy them for me.
i’m thinking i’ll send out holiday cards this year. if you’d like to receive one, please email me your mailing address. the random cut-off date for requests will be… december 14th.
american thanksgiving has totally disrupted my life. the internet is very quiet because everyone is off eating turkey and pumpkin pie. all the blogs i read are dead and jeremy’s not at work so i have no one to chat with all day. not to mention how the entire television schedule for the week has been completely mangled because they networks never show new episodes on thanksgiving. why do they do that? it’s a perfect chance to snag a captive, tryptophan-laden audience who’re stuck on their sofas after dinner! then again, i’m probably just jealous because i’m not getting a four-day weekend.
jim said about me: “heather: you hate talking about yourself so much you blog every day!”
i’ve been thinking about that. yeah, it seems like a contradiction that i hate talking about myself but i write about my life online. i think he’s missed an integral… something. i don’t often talk about myself here. i talk about my life and what i’ve done or seen or heard. i talk about things and stuff. it’s quite rare that i write about something deeply personal. i have no trouble writing about the superficial crap that goes on in my day-to-day existance, but when it comes to share the significant issues and occurances, the ones i feel strongly about, the ones that hurt and make me start to cry or throw things or the ones that make me smile and feel loved and appreciated by just a very simple gesture, i don’t share those very often. especially not here. i’m not sure why that is, i just don’t.
i’ve never been very good at letting people in emotionally. i’m a true cancer that way… a tough outer shell to protect the quivering inside bits. my emotions are easily hurt and i’ve gotten much picker at who i let see them as i’ve gotten older. i used to think that if i gave of myself that people would reciprocate in kind. now, i expect people to take advantage of it. i sometimes wonder if that’s how everyone becomes as they age. is cyncism a nature or nurture condition? i’d like to believe it’s the latter, just so that i can still hold on to the dream that people are inherently good and they become jaded because of experiences, not genetics.
of course, i just made a liar of myself. oddly, it proved my point as well.
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