And Off To NY I Go...

Ta ta for 2 weeks, peoples. But, you already knew I was going. I love you. And therefore, you were already in the loop.

I have officially given Chappie-ters my "I'm finally leaving this shithole" letter. SO, Sept 9 will be my last official shift. Or, at least, if they decide to give me some shifts. Ba-dum-tshhhhh.

Anyway. Take care, look after my stuffed ostrich collection while I'm gone.

In Local News...

I'm addicted to vlogs. Many vlogs. Well, two. But, you know. That's probably more than what's healthy.

I don't want to work anymore. I get really pissy at work. Therefore, I look forward to quitting soon (Sept 10 last day? ie the day before school starts).

I'm hungry, but I've had a lot to eat already. My stummy is growling. Ouch.

I think I have a splinter in my foot, as my living room/hall is being torn apart to make way for new, spankin' (spankin' new) paint. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that it wasn't a splinter. It was just... in pain.

I like making point form notes, because they can be completely random.

I like randomness.

I know that no one is still reading this far down, but I don't care.

I haven't been cartooning as much recently, and what I've made kinda looks like this:

Very random. I mean, a talking banana bread? What's the world coming to?

I feel very unproductive. Well, slightly productive -- I have 2 episodes of the first season of 24 to watch. So, I, like, watched 22 episodes in like, a week. That's something? And I've finished nearly 250 pages of Ulysses. Doubtful I will finish. I don't know if I'll continue.

I'm tired. I didn't sleep well last night. When I did fall asleep, I dreamed that I was covered in spiders and things because I saw one last night in the bathroom. I couldn't sleep after that.

Chris is moving to NY soon. I miss him already.

I'm horribly anxious to start school. I look forward to my courses and reading (!!). Seriously, I'm going to kill myself for admitting to that in the coming months.

You Are NOT Upstaging Me, Van Der Beek!

I'm tired and watching Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back on CityTV. I'm surprised that it isn't at least a tiny bit censored and edited. Pleasantly surprised. Shut up, I know it's a horrible movie, but it reminds me of summers of watching the Kevin Smith movies nonstop.

Watching Miami Ink on tv makes me want a tattoo even more.

Our Edmonton trip was great -- it was so nice to meet my future family. At the same time, it was really sad. I take it for granted that my family is always nearby, that I can see them after a brief car ride. Chris, on the other hand, just has his immediate family. The family I met this past weekend and a few week ago in Connecticut were so nice and friendly, I wish he had the chance to have that familial bond. I guess I'm lucky? It was really sweet to see Chris and his four year old cousin playing. So cute. I miss her and her big cheeks and the energy in her eyes when she looked up at me.

More cartoons to come -- over 550 of them now, countdown to 600 has begun. Nothing special planned, maybe a nice glass of wine and a few good suggestions.

Apple Girl

She came in humming. I don't know where she heard that song - her radio has been dead, silenced and dusted for years. Maybe it's the tune of her internal musings, the cogs whirring, purring, pulsating with life.

Where did you come from,
where did you go,
where did you come from
Cotton-Eye Joe?

So sad, almost a country love ballad instead of the upbeat, dance-recital singalong.
"What," she said, noticing my eyes on her. It was a word, not even a question. A smile grazed her lips. She bit into the apple without washing it or rubbing it on her shirt like they do in the country.
"Nothing," I respond. She raises an eyebrow and flicks her wrist. Juice sprays across the room, onto the sink and my hand. The beads of sugar glisten in contrast with my tanned skin. She motioned toward my hand.
"Sorry."
And she left. Yet she partly remains in that song, ever-playing in my brain. Like the singer, I too want to know the truth behind this Cotton-Eye Joe, the eternal enigma that resides within her.

Where did you come from,
where did you go,
where did you come from
Cotton-Eye Joe?