A Nothing Trail of Silences

It appears that my iPod has been sneaking around behind my back, and cheating on me with gravity. It seems to have either taken a tumble on one of its adulterous romps, or it has contracted some sort of sexually transmitted (computer) infection, and will now do nothing but futilely grind its harddrive, and use its sad face () to express its contrition.

Or it was gremlins.

I am not normally a huge fan of large national (or international) chains. I am relaxing this stance for Shopper's Drug Mart, however. What else is a girl to do when she gouges her arm open at 10:00 pm on a Sunday evening? Sadly enough, this is the second time in the last three years I have gouged my arm open on a Sunday evening, on the same piece of metal.


In other news, I overheard this conversation at school the other day, re: our pending election:

Friend One: "Stephen Harper (Conservative leader, current Prime Minister) gives me the willies. Aside from his scary-far right wing stance, I mean."

Friend Two: "I know! It's his eyes, I think. They're watery and flat. Almost like a sociopath's. Not that I'm saying --"

Friend One: "You'd almost have to be a sociopath, in order to not care about social programs to the extent that he does not."

I am the most clever snowflake ever some days. Seriously. Through a series of events that don't need exploring at this juncture, involving messed up brakes, a flat tire, and a missed handing off of a tire pump, I became separated from my bicycle.

As such, walking to my place of employment to obtain said bicycle and tire pump (so that said bicycle could be walked, rather than carried, to the repair place) became necessary.

'Man,' I said to myself as I trudged along. 'Walking takes far too much time. I think I'll run.'

'Much better,' I said to myself as I ran, and promptly turned my ankle on some loose brick work.

Three x-rays and 28 hours later, it has been confirmed that my ankle is not, in fact, broken. It is merely inconveniently and impressively sprained.

It should be noted that it could be much worse. Unfortunately, this is my good ankle. The other one ended up pretty destroyed in a softball-related incident a few years back.

This is so incredibly, bloody, inconvenient. Cycling is out for two - three weeks, I'm not allowed to run for at least a month, and any weights that involved my feet/ankles are out for even longer. As biking/running/walking are my main modes of transportation, and I often work out to amuse myself, it appears I am going to have to take up polluting as both a method of transportation and as a hobby.

It was one of my good friend's birthday's the other day, and I was really at a loss as to what to get her.

"Hey," I decided. "Why don't I make her cookies? Pumpkin cookies. Yeah. I approximated a sesame noodle salad the other day, so I can totally handle baking cookies."

It should be noted that, as the next time I have a sandwich in my lunch I think I am going to set it on fire, I have been attempting to forage food. I prefer the term 'forage' to 'cook', as I only approximate recipes. "This looks good, but I think it needs more sweet peppers, and oregano instead of salt. That's about a cup, right? Ish? Wait, I have some carrots in my fridge I need to get rid of as well..."

As it turns out, this is the wrong approach to take with baking.

Things started to go down hill from the start. I had to, um, purchase every single ingredient except for cinnamon, ginger, and eggs. Baking is expensive when you don't own any of the ingredients.

"White flour can totally be replaced with brown, right? White flour is the devil. Oooh, bran. I can totally toss some of this in there without anyone noticing, right?"

"Oh, hey, I've already started putting everything together, but this recipe has oatmeal in it. They're mostly the same otherwise, right?"

"Man, there's no way I need that much oil. I'll just replace a cup of it with soy milk."

"I really wouldn't want to throw away the rest of this can of pumpkin. Into the batter you go!"

"... baking soda and baking powder can be used interchangeably, right?"

*dialing frantically* "Grandma, help! I just made cookie dough but I don't have a wire rack for cooling them ... Um. Or a cookie tray for baking them."


The upside is that they turned out to be edible! They are rather more like flat pumpkin-oatmeal muffins than cookies, but they are not entirely inedible. Plus, with the whole wheat flour, oatmeal, bran, pumpkin, raisins, and soy milk, they are actually very healthy.

A very healthy five dozen cookies. I don't even really eat cookies, people. I have five (well, three, as I've given away two) dozen pumpkin oatmeal cookies.

Seriously, people, this has been my day:

1) Get home from school to find have managed to lock keys into apartment. Damper on plans to do anything. Realize spare key, which was to be returned to my Grandma's place with tonight's visit (and use of her washer/dryer), is also locked into apartment. Building manager is M.I.A.

2) Walk to Grandma's house. Almost hit by car in snow and ice, turn ankle. Three hours later, building manager returns home, finds note I shoved under his door. Hobble back to apartment.

3) Building manager once again M.I.A. Chase over and around complex.

4) Secure entrance to apartment. Gather laundry, homework. Start car.

5) Realize have locked all keys into running car.

6) Electrical tape hold spare car key is a frozen, mangled mess. Try to go inside to obtain scissors/knife/pen.

7) Dash back to building. Block of snow splits, swallows ankle. Face v. cold from snow it ends up planted in.

8) Realize have locked spare apartment key into apartment once again.

9) Gnaw through electrical tape. Mmmm, electrical tape.


There are days that I think that I shouldn't be let out of the house without an adult. Then I realize that I am supposed to be one.