Sweat Shop

This past week has been a rather unique experience for me. My roommate has taken over our home. Monday I came home to find what, at first glance, appeared to be a LAN party. In my world, LAN parties are not outside the realm of possibilities. In fact, I understand, (within my circle of friends) they are fairly common. So, what makes this LAN party notable? Well, first, it was in my home. I have never, nor plan to ever in the foreseeable future, hosted a LAN party. The second factor, however (and possibly more notable) is that my roommate is far from the type of girl who might be found at such a gathering. Rather, she is an artist. But more than just being an artist, she's the type of artist who uses technology simply to further her art, rather than as another tool in navigating this world in which we live. Thirdly, all of her friends are the same type of artist as she, and there were 6 or 7 such people sitting at our kitchen table with laptops open madly typing. Thus, the scene I happened upon when entering my home Monday night was more the type of scene one might find in an absurd comedy than in the every day happenings of Miss Granola Girl. I commented on the absurdity and they commenced in mocking the situation. "The elves are in the underground!" "I know, but I can't help you, my life points are too low!" When I asked what was really going on, I was told that they were doing transcription for a large corporation who had recorded a large number of interviews, and needed the transcripts. Since she is not really gainfully employed, this was a perfect opportunity for her. How they ended up in my house is a completely different matter -- one which I have yet to persue in favour of roommate harmony. Nevertheless, it's safe to say, I left the premises, immediately. When I returned home around 10 pm the work was still in progress, but now, there were three empty pizza boxes and dirty dishes strewn throughout our normally clean home.

Tuesday morning when I left the house, I could not tell you if any of the people had actually left the night before. There they sat at their stations, headphones on, tape players running, fingers moving lethargically across the keys. The only indication that I had to assure me that they had, in deed, gone home, was the change of clothes, and lack of smell that one can expect to assail them in such a scenario. Bless them for showering. Tuesday evening the view of my apartment had altered. Now, they had expanded into the living room. I'm not sure exactly what type of work was going on in there, but something was up. So, I left again. This time I took Lydia and went in search of a place to practice. Wouldn't you know it, the only place I could think of is under serious construction! :( So, I did various tasks that needed to be done, went home and dropped her off, and then headed to a friend's house. Previous to returning home with Lydia, I ran into a friend who told me I could practice at her place, but she wasn't to be home for several hours. Thus, my plan was to go home, fill some time, and then call my friend to see if I could still practice at her home. Well, I spent so much time at my other friend's house, that when I returned home at 1 am, I opted to not call her. It is important to note, here, that everyone except my roommate had left their posts to go home, and it was almost a lonely sight to see her typing solitarily.

Never fear, however, the next morning awaited me. This time I took Lydia to work, where I was sure I could practice once everyone had left for the day. This turned out to be the case. Finally, Thursday night I came home and was assured that they had to finish this project, and would be gone by the morning. It's interesting to note, that our other roommate was nowhere to be seen, and when I asked for the roommate who had invited all of these people into our home I was told, "I thought she was here..." No one really knew for sure. Sure enough, she wasn't. So, I did what anyone in my place would do -- I turned around and left. This morning when I woke up I almost didn't recognize the house. The table was cleared, the dishes were done, the living room was picked up, and there were no laptops nor other transcription devices to be seen. It was wonderful! The Gods have smiled upon me once more. All in all, I would say, there were consistently between 6-10 people in our front rooms at any given time, with a total of (at least) 20 or so people cycling through. I am almost nervous to go home today and see what awaits me now.

Relationships and Rumors of Relationships

Friday night I met an interesting individual who I then went out with. We had a good time, and that was that. Will he call me again? I have a suspicion that he probably will. Will I want to go out with him again, when he does call? Hmm... The jury is still very much out on that one.

Saturday I met a fascinating young man (I'd leave out the 'young' part, but I'm working up to my quarter-life crisis, so anyone younger than I must be appropriately labeled). He's really into music, and has played the drums for years. Thus, I shall call him DrummerBoy. Also, he is so incredibly open about everything, a quality I truly admire. Perhaps because it's one that I'm lacking. Now, I know you're sitting there thinking that I can't possibly be telling the truth here, but let me explain: I'm open about some things, but others I'm more than closed lipped. He's a really interesting guy. We met at a church social, and spent the greater part of it just talking. Eventually we went snowmobiling. Oh. My. GOSH! I could love snowmobiling (despite the fact that I tipped up over). Today I am a bit sore, but I'd do it again in a heart beat. After all of that everyone ended up going to this lodge we had rented for dinner and stuff. Yeah, good times.

This evening I was at another church thing and was talking to a friend of mine about DrummerBoy. I commented that someone had asked what was up with 'us' and I had told her that we had just met. Someone else was walking by at that exact moment and said, "Oh, the guy from yesterday?" Good golly people! Can you be interested in someone else's lives, please? So, now, apparently, (since everyone saw us talking all day) there is a slight rumor (and visually substantiated belief) that I'm going to have to nip in the bud before everyone finds out that we're 'dating.' Sheesh.

In other news I broke up with my secret boyfriend SurferBoy this week. I just can't be with someone who everyone wants. Ok, that's not true in the least bit, I'd love to be with someone that all the girls want. But, I don't want to be just another girl who has a crush on him.

Decisions and Changes

It's official. My cello is a girl-cello. I wasn't sure she was a she (as you might have noticed below), but in the end, she is definitely a girl. I'm comfortable with the decision, and I suppose that is the most important thing.

I went to my cello lesson on Saturday, and was talking to my teacher. She took a look at Lydia and was playing her a little bit. Then she asked how much I paid for her. I told her and she was really impressed. She likes Lydia and told me that I did a good job in picking her out. Yeah!

In other news: for the past two years I have been teaching Sunday School at church. Yesterday morning I was called in and asked if I would mind giving someone else a chance to teach. It was a bitter sweet moment, but I can see his point. So, I (gracefully) said "yes." The saddest part is that I didn't get to teach a final lesson. My teaching partner was teaching, so next week would have been my Sunday. I know it's for the betterment and spiritual development of other people, but I'm still sad. Perhaps the best thing to come out of it was the number of people who came up to me right after the announcement to tell me how sad they were. I love teaching, and it's nice to know that other people enjoyed my lessons. My replacement is a whole lot hesitant, but she'll do well.

Context is Everything, and Naming Things

On the 12th we learned a very valuable lesson -- context is everything. As Gracie pointed out, I guess I can come across as a "poetic lesbian." :D While that most assuredly isn't the case (I like boys waaaaaayyyy too much) I can see her point. So, just for the piece of mind of my adoring public (all four of you), whilst I am agree with the poetic note, I don't agree so much with the "lesbian" part.

In other news (and on a similar vein, I think), I have decided that it is high time I named my cello. Naming an inanimate object is not something I take lightly. The name must reflect the personality of said object, with out forcing the object into an uncomfortable mold. Take my laptop, for example. My laptop is a boy, named Dover. Dover and I have a history together. Mostly, it involves me sitting there, waiting for him to *do* something. Invariably, I find my self muttering those infamous words of Liza Doolittle: "Come on, Dover, come on! Come on, Dover, come on! Dover, move your bloomin' ahh!" And, thus, he was named. Appropriately, I think.

Which brings us to my original conundrum: what to name my cello? It is obviously a she. I don't know why, so don't ask. Some say all ships are women, and while I really don't have an opinion on that, I would have to say that, for me, at least, gender is more a product of the item and the relationship one has with it, rather than its origin (e.g., not all computers are male). All of this talk has made me wonder if my cello isn't a boy-cello. I know the one I first saw was most assuredly a girl-cello. There was no way she wasn't. I guess that emotion transfered over to my new one. Let me think about this for a minute... Ok, it's going to take more than a minute to solve this mystery. So, let's discuss possible names. Up until just recently, I had decided that her name was Lydia. I tried a bunch of different names on her: Sherry, Joan, Sally. None of them seemed to fit, until I came upon "Lydia." Now, however, I am faced with the worry that it may be a boy-cello. Thus, if he is, in fact, a boy, I think I shall name him Andrew. Now, all I need to do is figure out if my cello is a boy-cello or a girl-cello.

Readership

Well, so far I know I have one regular reader of my blog. One. That's it. And he lives in England (There, are you happy? You've got a mention on my blog, now, let's be done with that.)! Oh well, I'll survive, somehow.

I find it strange that when I first started my blog I was ashamed that I had succumbed to the trend. But, now, there is a part of me that likes being so publicly available. It's almost as if my Public-self has taken over my Private-self and forcing the latter to open up. I guess this makes me vulnerable on some level, but a level which I have complete control over. Oddness. Additionally, I find that I want other people to read what I have to write, almost like a real-life fan club. How completely ego-centric of me.

Actually, I think that’s part of the appeal to the general blogger – we all want others to come and partake of our greatness.

Sadly, however, I have just discovered that my fan club is one person large. Admittedly, if I were to tell my family about my blog they'd read it religiously, and then my fan club would be considerably larger. 700 percent larger, you might say. But, that's part of the deal -- I find that I can be more open here, when I know Mumsy isn't going to bring up something I said three months ago over my birthday dinner.

The Bane of My Semester

I decided that I ought to make sure my Institute class would count for my general ed requirement. It's a good thing I did, too. Turns out, they don't like letting you do that. So, now, I have to take a %^&* religion class this semester in order to graduate! ARGH! And, wouldn't you know it, the online class is full. How the hell can an online class be full? It's not like there aren't enough seats to go around? So, now, I get to add a class in the second week of the semester. How screwed up is that?

The irony, of course, being that I took the Institute class so I wouldn't have to take this class. I guess if I actually liked this particular piece of the Standard Works I would be better off. Shh, don't tell anyone, but I struggle with liking this particular piece of religious work. It's not that I don't believe it's true. It's that I find it painfully boring. *sigh* Serves me right, I guess. If I don't develop a deep and lasting hatred of this bit, then I'm going to end up loving it by the time this semester lets out. Be careful what you pray for, eh?

Taking the Leap

Today I did it. I took the plunge, and I couldn't be happier. I didn't think we would have such a short courtship, but when something is right, I guess you shouldn't wait too long, or perhaps the opportunity will pass, and they will slip away.

It's funny how things work out. I spent so much time looking for "The One." I looked all over, in obscure places, in random places, in places my mother would want to drag me, and in places I wouldn't take my children. In the end, however, I ended back where I started. A nice, respectable place to be looking for a companion.

Oh, and she is strikingly beautiful. Her deep brown isn't quite what I set out looking for -- I thought for sure she would be a dark red, but, when love falls in your lap, what are you going to do about it. Don't you find it strange how your first love will always be in your heart, and the back of your mind, but a new love can come along and take you completely by surprise, and BAM! you're in love all over again!? I hope I can live up to her expectations, and truly become one with her. Her beauty is worth her price, and I shall strive to be worthy of her. I can only hope she treats me well, and hopefully it will be a long time before I have to move on and invest my heart in another cello.