New Blogger Features :)

You might have noticed a few slight changes in the last little while. Firstly, I finally decided to fix the titles of each post, but I have to do them manually (ugh) because I was too clumsy to figure out where the "Title Field" button was. Secondly, I have the new option (courtesy of Blogger Beta) to put labels on each post, so now I am going to go back and do them at the same time. So don't be alarmed when you see your name for some reason in the labels even if I didn't mention you explicitly, because I am probably 1) making notes to myself and 2) wrong - where option 2 is more likely than 1. Thirdly, I put a site meter link at the very bottom of the page, like Jorgh's, so that everyone can see which person with a mysterious IP address is visiting our blogs.

Hopefully all these changes can lead you to a more pleasant and enjoyable blog-reading experience as you laugh at all the related things I've done, such as getting sick and/or paranoid.

P.S. Sorry for killing your news readers. :(
P.P.S. I think I might not have understood the concept of labels, because I think I have too many. :(:(

Readers' Most Anticipated Update!!!

Hello and greetings from Waterloo, to all 5 of you! Thanks to Norm and y'all for coming to the duck supper last week, and for Davy allowing us to invite ourselves to karaoke at his place afterwards. Jorghnassen and I arrived in Kitchener (Waterloo) safely without incident on Wednesday, and we were fortunate enough to have a temporary accommodation offered to us by the UWaterloo people, housed in the second level of the Health Services building on campus. [This will become a detail that will render the later part of my post quite ironic.]

We set about setting Jorgh up at the university bright and early, and also apartment hunting on Thursday. The rent around here is on average higher (or just on par) than living in NDG, although the quality of the apartment might be better here. Nonetheless, everything seems far apart because the entire city of Waterloo can be summed up as follows: bland, peppered with mini-malls.

It's not to say that there aren't any interesting details in Waterloo. There are those flocks of Canadian geese that live in and around campus. We saw a fox(!) running by as we walked north of campus, and a rabbit just around the HS building. (Oh yeah, UWat likes to use acronyms for everything here.) Chipmunks and squirrels galore eat the chestnuts and seeds that fall to the ground everywhere. Odd plants grow wild in the Research in Motion (RIM) park. And most importantly, rush hour traffic encourages pedestrians to cross the street. Whatever is considered their rush hour-I've seen more cars backed up on my driveway than that street considered as an artery.

But Thursday was unfruitful. We visited a very disgustingly overpriced 2 bedroom apartment between UWat and Wilfred Laurier University (WLU) that I very bluntly stated, "not worth 1XXX$ a month." We then walked a terrific 5 km to an apartment in Kitchener that was much better in comparison, but killed my feet with more blisters.

Friday, Jorgh called half a dozen places, and we had two apartment buildings to visit, also about 6 km apart. Lucky for me, I had a second pair of shoes, and lucky for Jorgh, he carried everything. We visited a place that was very tempting due to its proximity to a "plaza" (minimall) with a Sobeys, which just happened to stock...

Jorgh: OMG LOOOOOK WE HAVE TO GET THAT APARTMENT!
Ms. C: WHAT? WHY?!?
Jorgh: CRETONS!!!11!1!

Anyway, we visited the second building and also found it somewhat appealing due to a 1 bedroom apartment (that seemed to be rare in our apartment hunting) just recently vacated and readily available, once they cleaned it with an industrial vacuum or Swiffer napkin the size of a small planet. Nonetheless, it was a bit cheaper in the end, and seemed to be close to all sorts of different amenities - but no Sobeys across the street with cretons. It was a tough call, actually, but Jorgh decided to go with the 1 bedroom, as it was easier to furnish and I had already tired of this city...

I've yet to describe the temporary accommodations that we are occupying for another two days. It's a tastefully furnished apartment with furniture and decorations from another era, and accessories like a television and telephone from the times when people didn't care about how pointy things were shaped or how beige things could be coloured. It has a loud ventilation system, probably to keep out rodents from its ducts. Thankfully enough, it is equipped with a washer and dryer, and fridge and stove, and enough plates, utensils, cups, bowls and other kitchen things to not have to eat out every meal. All in all, tidy enough for temporary living.

The bed is another story. And probably the couch.

I developed a very sudden case of hives over the last two days or so, covering my shins, back, neck, scalp, and elbows. It looks very much like a bad allergic reaction, and from the looks of it, from the bed. Last night my throat happily obliged as well, and Jorgh and I have both stayed up in the wee hours trying not to go into massive panic attacks due to blocked airways and other happy fun events. [Recall previous post on paranoia.] We blew steam by cursing everything from the university HS building we were sitting on top of, to the poop of dust mites. I had washed all the sheets and pillow cases of the bed in hot water the day everything started itching like mad.

Today, I was advised by Jorgh's very nice doctor-parents to take (more) Benadryl, use non-perfumed Aveno lotion and wash without soap. Jorgh wanted to move into a hotel room but due to a certain beer festival in this region reputedly the biggest outside of the country of origin, it is nigh impossible to get any room now. Anyway, I'm spending as much time outside of the apartment as possible, as I found myself going nuts over lack of internet usage, something the apartment lacks. Not to mention the constant and cripping itching all over my poor wretched body that I spent so much time running into shape.

I know Jorghnassen promised he'd get a blog up and running, but I think he's still gathering his thoughts for a first post. ;)

RUN FOR THE C-uh oh...-#@$!ing PARANOIA

Now I don't want to alarm anyone by writing this, but I couldn't sleep at all last night. (Why would we be alarmed, Ms. C?, dear reader would ask, but I'd only shake my head disapprovingly and point to the subtitle of this blog.)

I had planned to go to bed at the more reasonable hour of just after midnight and I felt myself dozing off in my chair, so I schlepped myself to bed (a whole 5 feet away).

As I was laying there, I felt a panic attack... What's wrong with the lower half of my body? I suddenly bolted awake. It felt tingly, a bit like when someone sits too long in a chair, except kind of different. (No, it wasn't that time of month.) And then I tried to go to sleep, but I knew this would probably bother me all night.

Thus started the cycle of wakefulness and sleepiness... the next thing I knew, I was wide awake trying to convince myself that my heart had not stopped beating, that I had to keep breathing steadily lest I pass out, that my body was feeling numb from all the panicking. At every hour I would get up and shake myself awake, dispelling the night terrors for another minute, but sleep was not able to overtake my wide-eyed brain. Maybe brain is too much flattery for it, after all it tortured me with last night - I'll go with pile of grey goo.

At 5, my mum's alarm went off. She took about a half hour to get ready for work, and then I heard the door shut and lock.

I was barely concious of what I did the next four hours. I don't fathom why I did any of this. I remember getting changed into garish running clothes (pastel green sweatpants anyone?), turning on the TV to watch the weather channel, turning off the TV, turning on the computer, turning it off, sweeping the floor, washing a quarter load of laundry, reorganizing my stuff, turning the TV on and off again, boiling water, turning the computer on and off, checking the TV, drinking an entire litre of water, checking my email, drying the quarter-load, sticking my nose in my plants and then inevitably falling unconcious in bed, at a not-so-healthy 9:30 a.m..

I wish I could say that I got all the sleep I needed because I have a run tomorrow that happens to start at 10 a.m., but I kept getting woken up by a number of things. Somoene cleaning the balcony. Jorgh calling. Jorgh calling again. My mum arriving home at 1. My mum waking me up because Jorgh called yet again. Then I felt bad because Jorghnassen kept calling because I asked him to, so I stayed awake.

Anyway, if I don't get such astounding results tomorrow (eg. falling flat on my face, running the other way, calling a cab mid-run) then you can blame it on PARANOIA PARANOIA PARANOIA PARANOIA and some LSD OCD.

Needless to say, I didn't go running today. My mum thought I became colourblind.

Fears

When I have nothing else to write about, I usually point out how disgustingly and mopingly unemployed I am. Some people would go absolutely nuts if they have no direct and regular source of income, or not have any sort of plan in mind to do so. And some of you are workaholics who can't sit still.

I know you; you're the ones that I envy, who seem to be able to handle and conquer all things. Invulnerable, courageous and unashamed. Your self imposed weaknesses are but trifles in other people's point of view, and your strengths are infinite.

This is me. I have absolutely zero problem talking to someone face to face to ask for something, but when it's over the phone... forget it.

A second level of fear above that is asking someone for something that benefits me personally. I'd rather do anything else than ask for a favor. I'm certain it's not because I don't want to owe someone, because if anyone asks me for anything I don't hesitate (unless it's ridiculous).

And the most debilitating one of all: I fear rejection or failure from lack of sufficient skill. I'm the type who absolutely finds everything fascinating... to a point. Yes, even sports. But I don't feel like anything near an expert at any sort of thing. (And you're going to say, "But nobody's an expert at everything." And then I'm going to say, "But I'd like to be an expert at just one thing." Then you can counter with, "You have an inferiority complex." And then I'll say, "Oh you're right.)

OK, enough blah. Here's a sketch.