"Earth Angel, Earth Angel, will you be mine??"

I dreamt the other night that she was there, giving advice to someone else on how to be my friend. Her advice was to "just act like his girlfriend." I actually thought to myself, "Wow. This is an interesting revelation."

Then I remembered it was a dream.

The Weird Stuff I See: Runaways...

Heading back to school from home the other day (only went for the night to complete a hockey pool), I grabbed the 8:30am bus. Being an idiot, I forgot to charge my iPod as it had died just as got home the day before, so I had no music to listen to on the almost 2hr ride back to school. Because of this, I chose to read a play that I had to, and try to distract myself from any other people who were conversing around me.

I lucked out and only had someone sitting beside me for two stops, so I lounged between two seats for the majority of the ride. Being that it was that early, on a Thursday morning, there weren't very many people on the bus either, so not having music wasn't as bad as I was anticipating. I had a play on me, and decided to bide my time by reading that. That was, until the two homeless middle school children began talking.

I was maybe the third person on the bus, so I got to get myself settled in first and see all the other people who were going to be taking the bus with me. After about 5 minutes, a young girl (or rather I THINK it was a girl... pretttty sure) in a new era cap and giant, floppy coat entered the bus, and was stopped by the driver. Apparently, she had not paid as much as she thought she had or something on the bus BEFORE this one, and thus the driver was making her pay again. She did as she was told, but judging by her reaction as she came to take a seat, she was not happy about it. At all.

She made her way down the middle of the bus, and sat across the aisle from where I had sat. Following her was a slightly taller, similar in attire, same aged, black kid, who sat down in the seat beside her. I was trying to indiscreetly place them as to what/who they were, but couldn't figure it out right away.

Once they started conversing however, I drew some conclusions.

These two kids, who were at the very MOST, the age of grade 9 students, were a pair of runaways. They were obviously going to Waterloo in order to live on the streets there, as opposed to Toronto, where I heard them talk about often.

They discussed drugs and being totally wasted and what not. It was very odd and semi-disturbing to hear them talk about such things being that neither one of their voices had dropped yet. It was a pre-pubescent version of something you'd hear on "The Wire" (which, when I think about now, actually might happen on "The Wire"...). But regardless, I tried my best to focus on my play, and just ignore what was happening to my left.

What happened next, I was not prepared for.

The girl was obviously distraught over something. The guy, was not. But what was clear is that the two of them helped each other out. It was heart-breaking and heart-warming at the same time. At least, it was heart warming until I hadn't heard anything from them in a while. I looked over to investigate the silence, and noticed that underneath the jacket that the male had placed over his lap, there was movement. Consistent movement. Up and down. I could not see the girl's right hand.

Immediately, I felt sick to my stomach. I can't say for sure, but I am pretty certain, he was getting a handy like, 4 feet away from me. As I was attempting to deduce whether what was happening beside me was ACTUALLY what was happening beside me in order to say something to make them stop, the movement came to an end. Kind of abruptly. Because of this, it makes me think that it might not have taken place. But then again...

Either way, it made me feel gross until I got off the bus. It was weird. Hopefully, I don't have to go through THAT again...

Things That I Love Today: 13

"The bitch is back."

"If you think I'll just be sitting here waiting..."

Wow, does NOT feel like a week since I last posted. Didn't mean for that to happen.

Not in a particularly "in depth" kind of mood. Breaking the last few days down in point form:

• VA's were yesterday

• Started off pretty good; won "Graphic of the Year"

• C0-hosted the event and that went over well I thought

• Did some karaoke (sang Dierks Bentley's "What Was I Thinkin'")

• Ended the night in a crappy mood

• Too many reasons why, the most prominent of which was a 9am exam this morning

• Bad sleep last night; couldn't study as much as I wanted to

• Exam today was meh; wrote it in the worst room, felt sick all the way through it

• Came home after and slept 'til tonight

• Still felt crappy all day

• Then, did an ice cream study break and crappy mood was lifted

• Hopefully, it stays this way

"Oh baby!! Oh what a cryin' shame!!"

This past week, was not as bad as it could have been. Part of this could be because I set myself to cruise control from Wednesday until now (for good reason), but I think my "not letting it beat me" attitude helped with getting through the week.

My work at the paper is done for the year though. Tear. I have to say, the year in producing a newspaper turned out to be almost exactly what I expected. It was really fun. It was the opposite of that some times, but overall, I would do it again in a heartbeat. And I am. Kind of.

I got the Visuals Director position at the paper next year, which is kind of different from being Graphics Editor, but not too far off. So I'm excited to try something a little different, and a little more challenging creatively. But, of course, I'm up for it. Drawing and that sort of thing is quite a bit more fun for me than school has been over the last couple semesters. In fact, if I didn't have the paper, or Fr!nge or any other extra-curricular stuff to do, then I dunno if I would have lasted as long as I have.

Despite being back at the paper again next year, it's gonna be different, both good and bad. I mean, I am going to thoroughly miss some of the peeps I worked with this year. No way am I turning this blog into sentimental drivel, but I figure I've developed some strong friendships because of The Cord, and that is going to be sorely missed.

The fact that we had our last issue of the current school year released on Wednesday has had time to settle on me, and I'm not particularly bothered by that. Some people leaving (and even some staying) absolutely lost it, which I can understand. But for me, I just... I am proud of the year, and now I can move on to the next.

It would have been kind of nice for the last issue to write one last piece on the year, but I didn't have the time to write anything. Like I said previously, I wanted to maybe write something on Liz Taylor, but I simply had too many other things to do. I did actually get to partake in our group review of Sucker Punch though, which was nice. The movie was unbelievably disappointing, but the article was nice to partake in. And I got to do the graphic for it, which I

enjoyed and was quite proud of.

So yeah. The year is over. Out of it, I got some great work,

and some great friends.

Now let's see what the next one will bring...

"I have often dreamed of a far off place..."

Can't sleep. Again. Tossed and turned all night last night. Have laid in bed for two hours tonight. Nada. I am tired. I just can't sleep.

So I'm on here updating again. Listening to some Disney music, because for whatever reason it's helping me the most.

Had my first test of the week today. Studied basically all morning for it. Because of that, I'm pretty sure I did okay on it. Much better than I would have had I just gone in as is. It was a good decision to wake up early to do that. Still though, I may have taken it too easy after it was over. I was simply too fixed on the notion that I had completed something difficult that I didn't feel like doing other work. That's why I wanted to wake up early tomorrow to get a bunch done. But it's 3AM, and morning is not far off.

I'm also having a bout of the "second guesses" at the moment in regard to some stuff. Just in case somebody reads this who may not like that information, I will be cryptic about it. But I once again am looking for something to lift me back to where I was before. I'm making that sound like I'm depressed or something, when really it's just nerves above all else. It'll all be good. Again, I'm trying to stay above everything this week. So, hopefully I can still take something else that will calm my nervousness.

One day down. Four to go. Been good so far, no time for fuck ups now.

I can go the distance.

"A friend of mine bought himself a shovel..."

It's the last week of school. I have at least an essay due in every class that I have. A few classes I have more. Hell week has officially begun. This year though, it's not going to get me down. No sir. Not again. Not after the crap I put myself through last semester.

Fuck you Hell Week. Come and get me.

"Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth."

Liz Taylor passed away early yesterday. And I'm not

sure how this makes me feel.

I am saddened, of course, but she was never one of those actresses that I longed to see. She didn't have the same on-screen appeal to me that Katherine Hepburn or Shirley MacLaine did. Come to think of it, I don't know if I even recall a single movie outside of The Flintstones that I actually saw her act in.

To me, Elizabeth Taylor was more about image than anything else. And that in itself is something that resonates with me. Her divine beauty and persona as a divatic film star is what made me take interest in her. No, I never really engaged in her life as much as other stars of that era, but she always seemed to fit in right alongside them anyway, despite this. So while it indeed saddening that this happened, it hasn't impacted me as much as it should have. Regardless, I recognize how important she was to the film industry, and how an era of film stars is very much coming to an end. That is more sad than anything else to me...

I think I am going to write a column based around her, and that thought for the next paper. And I also think that I'll try to see Giant or Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? soon too.

Rest in Peace, Ms. Taylor.

"Leave tonight or live and die this way..."

Hello blog.

I figured it was time to visit again. Maybe you could be a pal and inspire me, or if nothing else, make me do something with my wasted time?? Think about it, will you please??

I believe that I've regressed to a melancholic mood for the time being. Can't quite figure why that is, but "girl issues" seems to be appropriate. Then again, when is it not. I have also taken a dive back into that place where I can't seem to remember why I should even care in the least bit about school. It's a terrible place to be, especially around essay season.

What I'm looking for is something good to lift me. Tomorrow preferably, but by weeks end will be sufficient I guess.

It sucks, because as soon as school is done and over with, I have a lot to look forward to. Hosting the VA's, new job, free time, new editorial board. Just... refreshing. But, that's still two weeks away. Two weeks. So something, anything, please, just lift me from this funk cloud.

I'm alright. I'm alright. I just wish, for once, I was better than alright.

"Na, na, na, na, yeah..."

I'm forcing myself to sit and write something because I feel that the lack of writing which has taken place since last year really had a profound effect on my thinking patterns. So, I know I say this every freaking 6 weeks, but seriously, let's try this again.

I believe we'll begin again with the story of my throwing up on the dentist... at the age of 22.

If I'm not mistaken, I mentioned my "hell-tooth" that I had to have a second root canal on in a previous post, so I will assume that everyone is familiar with how effing annoying this has been for me. Anyway, this story begins by me going in to get this tooth fixed, once and for all (knock on wood).

So I go into the dentist's office, and I sit down. Before the procedure is supposed to start, I made sure to get them to sedate me for the procedure. The thing will be more than an hour long, so I don't wanna be awake while they are cutting and filling and removing and whatnot. So I want to be sedated. Great. Not a problem apparently. I go in. The assistant woman gives me this pill which she dissolves in this orange juice and I down it. I go back to the waiting room... and wait. I wait a little. Nothing really. A little longer. Maybe a LITTLE relaxed. A little longer. Okay, eventually the pill makes me feel like I've been up all night. But, being a university student with terrible sleeping patterns, this felt normal to me. So, I'm still fully aware of everything going on. It's just that I'm a little "tuckered out". I tell the woman this as she comes to collect me, and she assures me that if I need more sedation, they will give me more in the chair. Awesome. Great. Just what I want. I'm not out enough yet. I need more drugs.

She takes me into the dental office, and I sit down. The two dental assistants who will be helping with surgery are mulling about. I'm sitting there, kind of antsy that I'm still awake for this, but still assured in the fact that more drugs will be coming. Eventually, the dentist comes in. He leans me back and administers the numbing to my gums. Alright, I think to myself. He'll put me out before he starts the ACTUAL surgery. This is just pre-lim. He needs my full attention to get this stuff out of the way... right??

Apparently not. As soon as I'm numb, down comes the microscope so he can start the surgery. As he does this, I have to pipe up. "Ummm... I'm still fully here. Not sedated at all." He kind of just looks at me. "Oh... Well, okay. You don't feel relaxed at all??" I try not to look at my shaking legs to point out how obviously NOT relaxed I am. "Umm, no. Not so much."

"Well, I can give you the gas. Will that be okay??"

Finally. The gas. Exactly what I was expecting this entire time. Jeez. I'm 6'1, 225 lbs. A single pill isn't gonna take me down. Are you kidding doc??

So anyway, he straps me in with the gas, and tells me to tell him when I start feeling something. He's gonna gradually go up the levels and when it gets where I need it, then let him know. He starts at Level 1, and I feel nothing. My legs are still shaking. I can still see straight. Nothing. Up to Level 2. I'm still totally there. I look at the reflection of my mouth in the dental light to make sure I can still make out what that is. Yep. Still a mouth. Still aware. Level 3. Deep breathes. In and out. Still shaking. And then Level 4. Level 4 finally did it. My legs stop shaking. My focus is blurred. My body collapses into the giant chair. I reply to the doc, "There we go. That's the one." I'm finally out. And the procedure starts.

Now, I've been under the gas a number of times before. The most recent case was my wisdom teeth, and I remember little, to nothing about the actual surgery. Here though, I remember most of it. It was the weirdest feeling I have experienced, because I was definitely under the influence of the gas, yet I was totally aware of my surroundings. I even opened my eyes a couple times to check shit out. I was drugged up, but not totally out. It was beyond strange. Either way though, I was relaxed as shit, so I didn't care about the surgery going on. They could have probably taken out a lung and I would've been okay with it.

About half an hour in though, I started to drift farther away from the surface. I ended up in some weird realm of the gas. It's hard to describe, but what I felt was that reality didn't exist any more. It was a bunch of grey fuzz that just kept playing one after another in a secular order and I was led to believe that that's what had been happening all along. Life, as I knew it, was simply another grey piece of fuzz in between two other grey pieces of fuzz.

You can imagine how odd this would have seemed to a half conscious person in a dentists chair, so naturally, my reaction was to wake myself up. How did I do this?? By trying to sit up of course. As soon as I did this though, I came to, and realized what was happening. The dental assistant coaxed me back down, but by that point I was aware what had happened. So, mid-surgery, I actually asked, to make sure, "...Did I freak out a little bit??" "A little bit" she replied. "Oops. Sorry."

Stupid gas. Make me freak out during the procedure. Oh well though, that was over. Back to relaxing. Back to sinking into the chair and not caring about the procedure.

I lay back down and start trying to relax again, but unfortunately I fall back into the comatose state. I went too far, and now I don't want out. But I'm still fully aware of what I'm thinking. And what I'm thinking is that I'm gonna be sick. I say to myself, Oh crap. You're gonna be sick. You should tell them!!... Nawww, you can fight this. Fuck sickness!! You can beat it right back down!! FIGHT THE SICK!!

Next thing I new, I was sitting up, vomiting. I can't explain what I was feeling at this moment, but I was fully aware of what was happening, I just had no control over it. I won't go into details about the incident, but when I finally gained total control over the gas again a few seconds later, I refused to open my eyes for being terrified and embarrassed as to see what damage had been done. I preferred not knowing that, so I never did find out.

Anyway, I laid back down, he toned back the gas, and he finished the procedure with me in that first state of relaxation and not the deeper stuff that got me in trouble. When I was finally "up", I assessed the damage, and he said not to worry about it. Apparently I may have just had an averse reaction to the gas, and perhaps it was a little too much for my system. Either that, or I was allergic to it, but I'm putting my money on the first thing.

Overall, it was a thoroughly embarrassing experience, but I was only half-conscious, so I can't feel too bad about it. And the tooth seems to be fixed, so that's also a plus. Next time, I think I will be asked to be knocked right the fuck out though. None of this lingering in relaxation bullcrap. Knock. Me. Out!!