New Year, New Year, New Yar...oops, Year

Well, Happy New Year one and all! Yes, as per usual, I am very late and remiss in my keeping up of this thang. You're all going to get bored and tired of me, and just stop looking after a while. But maybe I'm just testing out who's truly interested in my little life, and who's not! So there.

New Years was as boring as ever, as I didn't do much. In Newfoundland, if you don't have a car, and if you can't winter drive, then you might as well declare that you're a shut-in and maybe get some government money! Everything closed at about 6pm on New Years Eve, and that included the buses. So, no going downtown or anything here unless you drive or taxi around. Don't have a car, don't have money, don't have a life!



Then again, when I lived in Vancouver with it's plethora of transit, I still didn't have much of a life so-WHATEVER!!



Instead, I went to on of my neighbours and had a glass of champagne, and watched fireworks from the window, and watched the cat get high on catnip (the cat was busted later and the “herb” was removed from the room), and watched it snow. Thrill-o-rama.

But it was alright. I was so dog tired from the semester that I really only wanted to sleep and read fun books anyway.



I did go and see the final Lord of the Rings movie! Whoopee!! Never as good as the book, and they did some weird things with a few things, but wonderfully satisfying after all was said and done. Mmmmm Aragorn.



My second semester at MUN has begun, and it seems like it will be alright. I only have 3 courses, so that kind of sucks, but I picked up more hours of work in the school library. Vive la livre! (Not one person better question my French…)

And now the weather:

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!



Yep, it has decided to be Newfoundland and not Newfoundvancouver after all. My wonderful green Christmas and warmth and lovely rain are gone. It has been replaced with extreme snow, freezing rain, ice, WIND like you've never felt before. It normally takes me about an hour to get home from school, and for two days it took me about 4 hours. The bus drivers have finally been quelled, and they actually droves-l-o-w-l-y. Miraculous. School was closed today, although I didn't find this out until I was playing on my computer after I had already slept through my classes. What, me skip? Of course not. I just telepathically knew (after hearing the wind whipping ice and snow onto my window in a roar and reburying my head under my covers) that the school would be closed. And you see…I was right! Aaaahh, the sweet taste of being right. So good.



And of course I used my time productively. I played on my computer, I ate a few cookies, I drank a little tea, I watched a movie, I took a shower (eventually), and I tested some new sleeping positions that I've been meaning to try out. It's wonderful to finally have time to do those big projects that always seem to get put off.



Oh, and be sure to check out the images section…I finally got some pics developed. Not very stellar thus far, but they might be a tad interesting to a couple of you. I promise to take some more interesting pictures as time, and film, allow.



And I've heard my first two Folklorist jokes. They seem to relate to the fact that folktales, ballads, fairytales, jokes, folk remedies, and other bits of folklore are heavily categorized. I'm not sure if it's funny, but here they are:



Q: How many folklorists does it take to change a lightbulb ? A: Ten. One to change it and nine to document it.



A Folklorist takes his friend to a big Folklore Conference, and on their first day they attend a number of speeches and lectures. One of the guest speakers gets up and says, “419A,” and everyone in the room starts laughing. Later during his speech, the speaker says, “256,” and the whole room is reverberating with laughter. The friend looks around and is amazed. Finally, he pokes the Folklorist and asks him what gives. The Folklorist replies, “Since all the jokes are categorized and numbered, and since we all know the numbers, it isn't necessary to actually tell the jokes anymore.” A while later, the speaker finishes off and another lecturer is introduced. At the beginning of his speech, the new speaker says, “394,” and the except for a few faint chuckles, the room is silent. The friend leans over to the Folklorist and says, “What happened?” “Well,” replies the Folklorist, “You know how it is, some people can tell ‘em, and some can't.”

Hmmmmm. Maybe I should have decided to be a lawyer.



Alright, I'm off to actually do some reading and German homework. Keep watching the weather channel, and then everyone can have a good laugh at my expense! Bastards!



Happy New Year! I hope it's going to be filled with lots of good crap for everyone!



Venus Fangs.

Happy Christmas!

Well, well, well boys and girls…was Santa good to you all this year??



It was definitely a quiet Christmas for me here on the Rock. And not quiet as inclement as I was expecting. In fact, the weather was downright warm and we had rain on Christmas Day, so I felt very much at home.



Had dinner at one of the neighbours for Xmas, and it was actually very pleasant. Ended up watching The Beatles Hard Days Night and I was surprised how much I loved it. The boisterous Brit. banter between the Fab Four was fantastic! Boo yeah alliteration!!! And then I had several days of the most wonderful holiday insomnia ever! I'm not even sure what time it is anymore, or what the outside world looks like. Everything shuts down here from 6pm Christmas Eve till the 27 th of December. So, if you have no wheels-or more specifically, no wheels attached to a vehicle-you're pretty much trapped for three days. Needless to say, I found I needed various packages of gum and bottles of water at the gas station down the block as it is the only place to go around here. I really might have to think about this whole “living in the sticks of St.John's” thing I've got going on. I've been slowly going mad. And the buses were running yesterday, but by then I had lost track of what day it was and was wondering why all my Christmas presents had been opened early and didn't actually go anywhere.



Besides, my Christmas isn't really over anyway. Thank the stars for those wily Orthodox Eastern Europeans and their Jan.6 th Christmas. My Ukrainian heritage has saved me from Christmas mishap, and I can actually send my prezzies to those poor suckers back home who actually call themselves my friends and family by “Christmas.” Heh heh.



And I bet you're all wondering about grades. Well, after one of the crappiest semesters I've ever put in, I actually managed to pull three A's and one B out of my asinine study habits. I must be the biggest keener in the world, because I'm positive that a large portion of those grades were pity marks by harassed profs tired of seeing my red head bob into their offices with yet more excuses for why something is not done on time. Phew. But I'll take it. I'm actually seriously thinking that grad school is more of an option all the time. Then again, without a master's degree, there would have been no point in coming here…so I guess it's not so much an option as a necessity. Damn!



I've been watching Monster Garage-uberguy show about tough biker-type men who make ‘monster machines' out of perfectly normal cars-and I suddenly have such an urge to smoke a cigar, get a tattoo and hit the local strip club on my Chopper. I must remember to balance Monster Garage with Home and Garden television in future.



What a strange holiday. I've done the usual crying and being depressed because I'm not with the family, as opposed to the other way around. I was actually forced to start a fight with myself on Boxing Day. It had something to do with how I think I know myself, but I really don't, and if I did know myself I would freak out, so I should really back off of myself before I found out something really awful and disappointing about myself, and that I shouldn't worry about myself so much, and get out there and live my own life. I don't remember too much after we started drinking, but I do know one of us woke up naked under the Christmas tree with a candy cane in a rather uncomfortable place.



I'm still not going anywhere till Monday. Even after all the cooped-up-ed-ness (sound it out people) I really have no desire to brave the dreaded Sunday Bus Schedule. I've already spent one Sunday taking the bus-or as I call it: exploring how many hours a Westerner can stand in the most frigid weather imaginable.



Alright. Well, I'm off to eat a turkey sandwich, as long as I can just BACK OFF MYSELF FOR A WHILE.



But I will get another update out for New Years.



Merry Christmas, y'all!

V.F.

The 12 month of 2003...

Okay, erm , yeah, alright.



Back off people, I know it's been almost a month since my last entry!!! Don't you know some of us have lives!!!



Yes, I know my having a "life" can be argued...but I really have been busy-major papers worth large parts of grade, studying for finals this upcoming week, and moping around. It takes a lot out of a girl.



Speaking of taking a lot out of a girl-props to ma BC livin', Newfy born, wonderful woman who just had a bun pop out of the oven!!



Congratulations ma darlin', and all the best.



Ok, so, what's up in Newfy town?



Well, I survived my first Newfoundland snowstorm! It was crazy-the snow was pouring down, and the wind was whipping the snow cross-eyed! Most of the day, the snow looked like it was flying horizontally. So, while many Newfoundlanders actually stay in, Fair Venus decides to get the heck out the clamshell and head to work. Not understanding the concept of those little beebly-bobs that drawstring your hood to your face, I had a few issues with snow filling my hood. At many points during my trek to the bus stop, I was wishing that I had packed rum and flares into my backpack. The snow was blowing directly into my face, and I had to stop frequently and wipe the ol'specs clean so I could see where the fish-tailing cars were coming from. Crazy man.



When I finally made it to the bus stop and could turn my back to the wind, it was fine. The snow hit my back so hard it felt like a nice massage through my jacket. Note to self: buy wind pants. They have these wind-breaker pants that you put over your jeans or whatever, and I need to get some. All was warm and toasty, except my jeans were soaked. Mmmm, wet jeans. Comfy-time!



But, I did not let the weather defeat me! I feel that it will be my greatest and most deadly adversary...but it will find itself hard-pressed to keep me down! At least until I actually have to go out in it...then there may be some sniveling and quiet weeping on my part.

Apparently the bus drivers also feel the weather should not defeat their mad driving skills. Taking the #1 to the university, we ended up fish-tailing half the way. A woman got on at one stop, and the back end of the bus was half-way up the curb, and she patted the bus driver on the arm and said "Got your winter tires on?" Bus McDriver shouts out, "Winter tires?? Who needs 'em?" and peels out with the tires squealing in the snow. I was frantically looking for a pen in my bag so I could scramble a make-shift will onto my arm.



Must admit, it is pretty though. When I'm in my apartment, which due to health violations I have recently scrubbed and sorted, and can see the snow outside, it is kind of nice and cozy. Then you realize that you're trapped and if you want to go anywhere you have to face cold and ice and it might snow enough to block your window and you don't have snow pants and you only have half a bottle of port...I mean, half a liter of milk...yeah...milk..



Okay, not a lot, but just enough to tide you all for a week. I know how hard it is to get through your miserable lives with out a little ME to help you along!



Wow, my head is suddenly so heavy...neck straining...nose touching keyboard...AAAAGH!!

I'VE BARELY STUDIED FOR MY EXAMS AND I'M ACTUALLY RE-READING HARRY POTTER INSTEAD OF STUDYING AND I LICKED MARGERINE OFF A KNIFE YESTERDAY!!!



Head shrinking...neck looser...nose facing monitor again. Phew, that was a close one...

Okay...off to study-for real-now.



V.F.

Let it snow...

So, interesting. Very, very interesting. On Monday, I stepped out to go and catch my bus to school, and almost froze my non-existent balls off. Then, Tuesday, I bundle up, prepare myself for the worst, and head out. It's a tiny bit warmer, but there are these mysterious wee flakes of something whipping around in the wind. What are these small bits of flotsom? I ponder the conundrum, scratching my head frequently. Suddenly it comes to me.



FREAKING SNOW!



Yes, boys and girls, it is snowing in St.John's! There were flurries all day, and finally, when the sun set and it got dark and cold enough, the snow stuck. I couldn't believe it, and yet I've been expecting it for a month.



I mean, September and October were beautiful! It got up to 26 degrees the day before Halloween. And now, my beautiful-almost-B.C.-but-not-B.C. weather is gone. B.C. has left the building when Newfoundland decided to show up after all.



Humph.



Once again, I am amazed at the bizarre toad's-wild-ride driving skills of the St.John's Metrobus company. Today, as I was hurtled homeward, I was actually catapulted from my seat into a near standing position as the bus lurched around a corner at 400 miles per hour. It was only the extreme tension I placed on my outside calf that kept me in my seat. I have to make sure that I change sides on the bus regularly in order to prevent one leg developing huge, knotty calf muscles while the other becomes a weak atrophied thing. Then I'd be forced to concentrate when I walk or end up circling myself like a desperate wagon train.



And the level of conversation and weirdness on these bus routes is never-ending. On the wonderful below 0 Monday, it was nice to get on the heated bus when it finally arrived. But let me tell you, I didn't enjoy it half as much as the old geezer in the back.



"Boy, this bus is some warm!" "I tells ya, this bus is sure nice and warm." "It sure is nice to get on a bus that's nice and warm when it's cold out." "Ah, buddy, this bus is some nice warm."

This litany continued until I got off at my stop, and I assume it continued till he got home to the Mrs. and said:

"Ah honey, that bus I was on today was some warm."



There's also a mentally challenged little pervert who always seems to be going home the same time I am. He's a bizarre little man who finds the most attractive girl on the bus and then proceeds to tell her "cute" little stories and hug and try to kiss her. Everyone just laughs it off, but it actually gives me the creeps. I never thought being somewhat unattractive would ever be such a boon, but so far I've escaped his notice. Except once, when he was making reference to "big girls being good in the sack" and he winked at me. Buddy better keep his hugs and kisses to himself--I have no qualms about poking a mentally challenged pervert in the eye. A pervert's a pervert in my books.



(I bet a lot of you are writing that bit of wisdom in your journals and diaries.)



I'm slowly getting more organized. Still no luck finding a job--even though St.John's is peppered with my resumes and applications. It's very frustrating, and a little scary, but I'm surviving. Besides, as a "big girl" I can live on my own body fat for quite a while! I just hope we don't get snowed in and some of the other people on my floor get the same idea. I'll have to start spreading rumours about how tasty the elderly can be with the right spices.



Halloween was a sad bust. I spent it pleasantly enough, I hung out with one of the ladies on my floor and we watched scary movies. But I wanted to go to some of the St.John's Halloween festivities. There is a huge 3-day Mardi Gras, lots of haunted houses, a haunted hike (ok, we all know I wasn't going on that one!), all kinds of cool stuff. And I stayed home. The one thing Newfoundland constantly teaches me--I can get lamer. I thought I was pretty lame back home, but I've reached new heights in the East. I have followed the dimly-lit star, and found that it was only a street lamp.



Tomorrow is Guy Fawlkes night. There should be lots of bonfires and wildness for me not to attend. It is interesting that they actually celebrate it here though, being a mainly British institution. (C.R. will kindly note this as it is mentioned in Georgia Nichols.) We also get St.Patrick's day off, too. I'll bet that little pervert on the bus wears a shirt that says "Kiss me I'm Irish" and then enforces it!



Anyways, must get to bed so I can doze in all my classes tomorrow.



Yours always,

V.F.

Lucky 13!

So, Halloween is only two days off. Am I excited...yes. Do I have any reason to be excited...yes. Does that reason have anything to do with eating Halloween candy and getting a sugar high...definitely!



Ok, so I have a lot of little things I could do, and none of them appeal to me. I could go downtown and check out the "mardi gras" that is held here on George St. (street of bars and pubs...and I'm assuming vomit as well), but all of the people I've met are going with groups of people that are as yet unknown to me, and that's not so good. I could always go by myself and check out the costumes, grab a coffee (or beer) or whatever, but that just sounds scary. And of course I'd never go off and do anything scary by myself. Ahem. I could watch horror movies with some people in the building. But it's kinda looking like even the elderly have plans. I could study and actually use my time productively...ok, you in the corner-stop laughing! (Oh great, now I'm seeing people in the corner...)



Ah, I'll figure it out. Things would be easier to decide if I wasn't so damnably broke! So far no one has responded to my battery of resume's and applications. Very frustrating! Don't these people understand that they are getting in the way of true genius! I mean, by helping to forward me, they would only be forwarding their own best interests. It makes sense, right?

Hmmm, it could be that they don't understand the magnitude of what has landed among them. Must eat more chocolate.



Must press...er... im press upon them the importance of aiding me in whatever way they can. Must also stop pretending to be an evil genius as there is no way to truly convince anyone that I am all that evil, or anything close to genius.



Ooook, I think it's time to sign off for another night.



And a quick shout out to N.M. and C.R., both of whom put me in my place about daylight savings time, and telling me that I did not actually lose an hour, but rather gained one. Thank you, and can I interest you in a rasberry :-P



Love to all who deserve love, and spanks to all the rest.



V.V.V.V.F.

(Va Va Voom Venus Fangs)

Homesickness Settles In

So, I'm a little homesick. Ok, I'm a lot homesick. Alright, alright, don't twist my arms--I'm so homesick I feel like mailing myself home. And yet...I wonder if I'm not doing the ol'bait and switch, self-sabatoge, I-don't-wanna-do-homework-no-more blues song that signifies nothing more than laziness and an inclination to "screw the pooch"!!



I mean, the fall colours here are breathtaking, the people are wonderful, the air is clean, blah blah blah freaking blah. I think I need a good coffee that isn't attached to Tim Hortons. Or I need to see some good ol'fashioned drag queens walking around. Or I need to go to a concert, or something.



I think my morning bus driver is causing all this angst. They have radio's on the bus here, and as you're driving around, they play one station or the other. All well and good if it's music you can tolerate, or if it's played at a decent level. However, at 7:10am, it is often not my favourite thing to be sitting on a bus listening to Queen played at ear-splitting volumes. I think it's a vain attempt to "wake us up." Sicko's. Now, the bus driver in question does not play the local oldies station, the local new music station, or any other local station of tolerable music. No, he plays the local elevator music station. I've never heard so many Casio organs, electic "beat" sounds or " Moon River " lyrics in my life. I mean, this is some old school stuff-often strident, seldom good. I love old jazz, lounge, blues. But this is a funk I can't describe-I mean it ain't even my mutha's music, know what I mean??



Hearing that first thing in the morning is bound to dampen even the most troopier trooper-isn't it?



And a sidenote-da mens are gettin' on my nerves. I'm wondering if there is a man alive out there who can talk reasonable about problems and not get wigged out. "Oh, ah, jeez, I don't know, I'm not one for giving advice, you might want to ask one of your, y'know, girlfriends about that one. Yeesh, wow, yeah, phew, really don't know..."Aaaaaargh! (Then again, most of my friends get on my nerves with advice because they PERSIST IN USING THAT DEMON SPAWNED LOGIC AND COMMON SENSE!!!)



By the way, since I'm on a rant, I hate the lottery because I do not win it.



Wow, ok, online diaries are good things. I feel like I've opened a window and all the clothes-eating moths have flown away, and wonderful fresh air is taking their place. And the knowledge that I have tainted those few (very few admittedly) loyal readers with my angst and negativity has let me know that pain shared is less pain for me to deal with!! Aaaah.



We also set our clocks back this weekend. So poor Venus loses another precious hour to da man! Blast! I could care less about coming home with the sun, I don't want to get up at 5:30 every morning. And I'm one of those poor literal bastards who can never for get that 7 was once 8 (or, that 7-8-9, ha ha), and live for the next several months waiting to get my time back. Time. Stupid relevance.



Well, tonight it TV night for me. I've worked out a sweet deal with one of my wonderful ladies from the floor (Shout out to da ladies from da floor!!)--(I know, I really have to stop....) and on Thursdays I go to her place and watch a little boob tube. I tell ya, I am a TV generation gal, and this is a little bit of sanity in my sea of weirdness. Yep, TV has made me the success I am today...ahem.



Well, I'm off like pants in the dark.



V.F.



PS-any comments on this journal would be appreciated-and if you have any comments to make, or questions you want answered, I'll put it in here. Also, if you know anyone who might find this funny-by god, pass it on!



Sheesh!

6 days after my brothers birthday...

So, another week in the East has come and gone. Weather is still incredibly nice, although today it is raining and windy and generally gross. Weather is a huge topic of conversation in Newfoundland. You can experience 6 different weather patterns in a day here, so I suppose it makes sense to discuss it. It's a conversation that never gets boring. Unless you're from B.C.

My last midterm is tomorrow morning. Which is, of course, why I'm writing

this...procrastination at it's best! I've started counting crows. No, not the band, but the custom of counting crows that you see. It's a part of the folklore here, and it has a little rhyme:



One for sorrow, Two for mirthThree for marriage, Four for birthFive for laughing, Six for cryingSeven for sickness, Eight for dyingNine for silver, Ten for goldEleven a secret that will never be told.



It's very cool, and odd, and now I can't stop doing it. Thankfully, I've mostly seen either 2, or 5 crows. People here also "cross crows out," which is a kind of evil eye thing. They put two fingers together like a cross, and put it between the crow and them, thus-crossing out the bad luck the crow might bring. Not everyone does this of course, but a fair number of people do.



I now have a borrowed couch, and I can't tell you what a difference it makes to have actual furniture in your place. It makes me feel like more of a resident, and less of a squatter.

Thanksgiving was an interesting affair. I had dinner with an elderly couple and another woman in the building. I brought potatoes!!! (Yeah, whoopee) I have tried salt meat, and can't say that it will be a regular part of my diet in the future. It's freaking salty!!! And everyone thought I was on crack for thinking so, even though it's called "salt" meat!! There was also peas pudding. This wonderful concoction is basically yellow peas, cooked to sludge in a bag that's placed in boiling water, and then squeezed and mashed. It's very, very gross, especially for a poor picky eater like myself. But there was turkey, and gravy, and pie and it was wonderful to have a nice meal with new friends.



This is a rather short and pathetic entry, but I am studying here, people!! I'm not at your every beck and call, every wave and whim! Sheesh.



Anyway, as always, more to come.



V.F.