It is troubling that people still have so much trouble determining the proper use of towels in this day and age. A towel is the most "massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have", but this does not mean that we can abuse its many functions to make up for our laziness or even lack of common sense. The following is a list of what towels are NOT.
A) A towel is NOT a napkin.
I know it can be tempting to use the closest thing at hand when your fingers are dripping with orange-red barbeque sauce, but a napkin (cloth or paper) works perfectly well! In fact, that's what napkins are for! Next time you have something dribbling from your food-inhaling face, try washing it before wiping it off with a towel. Your washing machine will thank you for it!
B) A towel is NOT a carwash rag.
It is frighteningly rude to use a pristine white bath towel (normally reserved for drying off human bodies) to wash your bug-splattered vehicle. Do you use bath towels at home to wash your car? If so, how long before your wife decides that she's had enough and tries to smother you with the towels you've ruined with the soapy remains of deceased insects? Towels are for bodies, rags are for two-tonne modes of transportation.
C) A towel is NOT a doormat.
Doormats are made of tough materials that allow you to scrape off excess dirt from your shoes before you enter a house or a building. Towels - amazing as they are - are sadly inadequate for this task and cannot withstand the rough motions you make with your sand-filled shoes. And what are you doing with shoes on in the house anyway? Oh, you silly Westerners!
D) A towel is NOT a makeup remover pad.
A towel is handy for wiping off excess moisture after swimming or a shower. The tiny loops in the terrycloth provide pleasant abrasion for your skin as you dry off, but this should not be the only method of removing layers of caked-on makeup that you applied for some reason when you decided to go to the beach this morning. For an effective makeup removal, use a good quality makeup remover solution along with a disposable quilted cotton pad. This should prevent the housekeeper of your favourite inn from having a nervous breakdown and soaking your next change of towels in undiluted chlorine bleach. No one wants a chemical burn!
Next, we will review the proper use of a towel.
Step 1: Place self in bathtub/shower stall/waterfall/body of clean water.
Step 2: Wash self. All dirt should be removed from body.
Step 3: Dry self using a towel.
Step 4: If there are dirt smudges on towel, repeat from Step 1.
Unless you are completely inept at washing yourself, you should have nothing on your towel except for water and the occasional hair. If you DO have dirt on your towel even after the most thorough washing, then you have my sympathy, as you've obviously fallen into a tar pit recently. Good luck with that.
Remember everyone! Towels are our friends.
This message was brought to you by the Society of Keep the Towels Clean Unless You Want Me to Stomp on Your Face Like the Cast of Riverdance.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
A laundry room conversation on Day 30 in Wiarton
Dasol: This is a ton of laundry we have to fold.
Judy: Excuse me, I'm trying to get VOMIT stains out of these bedsheets without burning the skin off my fingers, so please, shut your hole and keep folding.
Dasol: Why did he vomit?
Judy: I'm no CSI, but from the overwhelming smell of stale booze in the room and a bunch of empty beer bottles, I'd say he had a bit too much last night.
Dasol: That's weak.
Judy: Not everyone can drink a lot, you know.
Dasol: You should know when to stop.
Judy: On the bright side, it's a good thing that he didn't die from alcohol poisoning in the bed.
Dasol: We wouldn't have to clean it up, you know.
Judy: Right, because THAT's what I'm worried about when a person dies in one of our rooms.
Judy: Excuse me, I'm trying to get VOMIT stains out of these bedsheets without burning the skin off my fingers, so please, shut your hole and keep folding.
Dasol: Why did he vomit?
Judy: I'm no CSI, but from the overwhelming smell of stale booze in the room and a bunch of empty beer bottles, I'd say he had a bit too much last night.
Dasol: That's weak.
Judy: Not everyone can drink a lot, you know.
Dasol: You should know when to stop.
Judy: On the bright side, it's a good thing that he didn't die from alcohol poisoning in the bed.
Dasol: We wouldn't have to clean it up, you know.
Judy: Right, because THAT's what I'm worried about when a person dies in one of our rooms.
Monday, July 21, 2008
I ache everywhere.
My brother's really good at fitness training and he used to train some of his friends in martial arts calisthenics. He's slacked off a bit lately though and I find that the best way of convincing him to work out is to ask him to train with me, which is a bit of a sacrifice on my part, because I hate exercise.
But Dasol says it should be a piece of cake for someone who is naturally flexible like me. Uh, sure. *shifty eyes* My legs move, at best, 140 degrees apart and when he tried to push it further, I burst into tears.
So I've been learning basic boxing moves and taekwondo kicks, because I could use better self defense techniques than the ones we learned back in grade 9 gym.
Self defense expert: For you to use this move, your attacker must be sitting on your stomach with his hands around your neck.
Us: Shouldn't we also learn how to prevent ourselves from getting into that position?
Self defense expert: ...
It's much more fun than crunches, pushups and leg raises, that's for sure. One day, I'll be able to smack someone silly with my right hook.
Today was the first time we did dodging exercises to become faster at movement. I was supposed to dodge my brother's hand from side to side. He bonked my face so much that I eventually had to take off my glasses. T_T
Then we started the different punches and combinations. I put so much force into a right cross that I wrenched something in my hip. Or at least, I think so. My brother kept insisting that it was normal to feel knives jabbing into my hip bone everytime I move my leg. Jerk. We tried doing crunches and back raises, but it hurt so much that we had to stop. Instead, I taught my brother some yoga moves and he had to admit that it was more difficult than he thought. Then I went for a swim.
I don't know what it is about Wiarton that's making me so intent on working out. My dad suggested that it might be the fresh air. I think that it's simply Wiarton and there is just nothing else to do. I mean, I can't watch the Food network all day, right? Even though I love the cake challenges and the Quebecois dude who cooks for his "friends". I should really finish up the book, however. On the other hand, there isn't much left to do, except for the cover, for which I definitely need other people's opinions. And French. I should work on that too.
It's been 31 days in Wiarton already. I'm on my way back to being somewhat fit, so for the next month, I will also work on:
1) THE Book
2) French
3) Reading in general
But Dasol says it should be a piece of cake for someone who is naturally flexible like me. Uh, sure. *shifty eyes* My legs move, at best, 140 degrees apart and when he tried to push it further, I burst into tears.
So I've been learning basic boxing moves and taekwondo kicks, because I could use better self defense techniques than the ones we learned back in grade 9 gym.
Self defense expert: For you to use this move, your attacker must be sitting on your stomach with his hands around your neck.
Us: Shouldn't we also learn how to prevent ourselves from getting into that position?
Self defense expert: ...
It's much more fun than crunches, pushups and leg raises, that's for sure. One day, I'll be able to smack someone silly with my right hook.
Today was the first time we did dodging exercises to become faster at movement. I was supposed to dodge my brother's hand from side to side. He bonked my face so much that I eventually had to take off my glasses. T_T
Then we started the different punches and combinations. I put so much force into a right cross that I wrenched something in my hip. Or at least, I think so. My brother kept insisting that it was normal to feel knives jabbing into my hip bone everytime I move my leg. Jerk. We tried doing crunches and back raises, but it hurt so much that we had to stop. Instead, I taught my brother some yoga moves and he had to admit that it was more difficult than he thought. Then I went for a swim.
I don't know what it is about Wiarton that's making me so intent on working out. My dad suggested that it might be the fresh air. I think that it's simply Wiarton and there is just nothing else to do. I mean, I can't watch the Food network all day, right? Even though I love the cake challenges and the Quebecois dude who cooks for his "friends". I should really finish up the book, however. On the other hand, there isn't much left to do, except for the cover, for which I definitely need other people's opinions. And French. I should work on that too.
It's been 31 days in Wiarton already. I'm on my way back to being somewhat fit, so for the next month, I will also work on:
1) THE Book
2) French
3) Reading in general
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
I have tan lines on my butt.
Yes, that's right. Tan lines on my butt.
I've been swimming everyday in my outdoor pool in Wiarton and apparently, for a person who normally shrinks away from sunlight like a vampire, it means that your butt becomes two-toned. Like vanilla ice cream with mocha swirls.
I just compared my butt to ice cream. This post is getting more uncomfortable by the minute. I'll stop right here and make myself some macaroni.
Dasol, my pseudo-trainer, assures me that the five-pound weight gain is from building muscle mass. Muscle? Me? Judy of the Bendy Fingers? O_O
I've been swimming everyday in my outdoor pool in Wiarton and apparently, for a person who normally shrinks away from sunlight like a vampire, it means that your butt becomes two-toned. Like vanilla ice cream with mocha swirls.
I just compared my butt to ice cream. This post is getting more uncomfortable by the minute. I'll stop right here and make myself some macaroni.
Dasol, my pseudo-trainer, assures me that the five-pound weight gain is from building muscle mass. Muscle? Me? Judy of the Bendy Fingers? O_O
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Wiarton: Day 2 of...oh, who knows?
Working in Wiarton is - and I must stress this - not all that bad. That the setting of my summer adventures is boring is undeniable. People come up here to fish, for heaven's sake, and that's the most boring thing ever in my mind. However, the sun shines, the air is fresh, the groundhogs are in their condo and it's quiet. Maybe I'll finally finish THE book, because it seems that no one in the WSS will rest until I make some progress on it. There are worse places one could be. No, the thing I dreaded the most in coming to Wiarton is the crazies.
A sample rant from my first summer in Wiarton:
"To the guest with the cigars and candles (both prohibited) in room #15: If you ever smoke cigars in our room again, I will destroy you. I can do it, you know. I know your phone number, I know where you work and I have your credit card number. Do it again. And if the ozone machine should happen to appear in your room while you sleep at night, who's to say that I wasn't just deodorizing your filthy stench?"
I'm much more mellow than I was back then. No, I really am!
Fine, don't believe me.
But there are bound to be some crazy people. And I don't mean such enchantingly silly individuals like you and me. I mean Cuh-RAZY! I dread it. I dread it so much that I was thinking of ways to resolve such clashes without having to release toxins into somebody's room in a murderous mood. What if I acted even more erratically than them to sort of throw them off their guard? Furiously transcribing everything they say onto a sheet of paper while muttering maledictions? Smiling maniacally at unreasonable customers, for instance, while I stir my mug of tea in a manner that suggests some dreadful purpose?
Any suggestions?
A sample rant from my first summer in Wiarton:
"To the guest with the cigars and candles (both prohibited) in room #15: If you ever smoke cigars in our room again, I will destroy you. I can do it, you know. I know your phone number, I know where you work and I have your credit card number. Do it again. And if the ozone machine should happen to appear in your room while you sleep at night, who's to say that I wasn't just deodorizing your filthy stench?"
I'm much more mellow than I was back then. No, I really am!
Fine, don't believe me.
But there are bound to be some crazy people. And I don't mean such enchantingly silly individuals like you and me. I mean Cuh-RAZY! I dread it. I dread it so much that I was thinking of ways to resolve such clashes without having to release toxins into somebody's room in a murderous mood. What if I acted even more erratically than them to sort of throw them off their guard? Furiously transcribing everything they say onto a sheet of paper while muttering maledictions? Smiling maniacally at unreasonable customers, for instance, while I stir my mug of tea in a manner that suggests some dreadful purpose?
Any suggestions?
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Wait, what? WHAT?
I have just finished watching The Rose of Versailles anime series, which I mentioned in this post.
I was very excited by it, as you well know. Lilian sent me a lovely Marie Antoinette wig to adorn my Webkinz panda (now known as Marie Pandoinette). Never mind that Oreo is actually a boy. He's comfortable in his own sexuality, darn it. I have also started the construction of my own Webkinz Versailles.
After having finished the anime, I am...torn. It was watchable enough and I did laugh at the streams of tears that sparkle like a million diamond fragments and the soap opera-like melodrama of it all. But is that not the point of shoujo? I even managed to overlook the portrayal of Duc d'Orléans as some mustache-twirling villain in a big black cape (well, without the mustache). That is not what bothers me.
The whole series is composed of 40 episodes and even though one starts to sense the unrest that leads to the French Revolution around episode 25, it takes quite awhile for it to move. I waited and waited and around episode 36, I started to get very antsy, because I knew exactly how much of the story is left and started to doubt if everything would be told satisfactorily in the remaining time.
I will now present a short summary of events that occur in the last few volumes of the manga:
Oscar (main character, female commander of the French Guards) decides to join the revolutionaries with her troops. Meanwhile, her best friend, André has been slowly going blind due to injuries that happened some years ago, but Oscar doesn't know about this. Oscar and André fall in love. Oscar takes her troops to support the citizens of Paris and André is wounded during battle. Oscar finds out that André is blind and he dies. The next day, Oscar leads the attack on Bastille and dies just as the prison falls into the hands of the revolutionaries. Then we shift focus to Marie Antoinette and everything that happened to her during the Revolution.
Oscar and André.
Even though they're both as pretty as daisies, you can tell André is the guy because he has a square jaw.
Now, here are MY feelings while watching the final 5 episodes of Rose of Versailles.
Episode 36:
Shouldn't this move along? Come on, there's a whole whack of stuff left to tell! Surely they're not thinking of ending the series right after Oscar's death!
Episode 37:
Wait, the battle's not even started yet and Oscar knows about André's eyes? That makes no sense! Aw, Oscar and André are together. Took them long enough, stoopid Oscar and her idiotic waffling. It's André! WHEE! ^O^
Episode 38: Oscar decides to join the revolutionaries with her troops.
"I resign as your commander. Because the man I love and trust won't fire at the people, just like all of you. I'll follow what he says. If he fights with the people, I'll fight with them. I've become André's wife. I'd like to walk the same path as my husband."
Wait. WHAT? That's your reason for joining the revolution? Because you're in love with André? Okay, I know André is hot. I've been screaming at you for the last 20 episodes to stop mooning after Fersen and get together with André already. But the Oscar *I* know joined the Revolution because she believed in it, not some pansy reason that her lover wants her to. Where was this subservient nature for the past 37 episodes? This is wrong. I'm totally not gonna cry when you die, you twit.
Episode 39:
Why are you taking André with you into battle? Have you gone insane? He's going BLIND, you idiot! At least the Oscar in the manga didn't KNOW André was blind before she decided to let him handle a freaking rifle on a horse!
Oh great, he's dead now. Are you happy? You killed him with your stupidity, dumbass! Yes, cry. Like crying is going to make up for getting him killed. I have no sympathy! Poor André. He deserved better than the blonde idiot who snubbed him for 36 episodes. T_T *sniff, sniff*
Great. Now Oscar's dead and it was completely anticlimactic.
Episode 40: Finale
It takes 10 minutes for Oscar's death and the montage of illustrations. There's no denying that the portraits of Oscar and André are beautiful, but how are they going to tell Marie Antoinette's story in 10 minutes?
Oh I can't believe this. It's minor characters meeting 5 years later to discuss the events of the French Revolution, because one of them's writing a book about it. How serendipitous. -_-;;
It's a goddamn clip show. They made a clip show of the attack on Versailles, the escape to Varennes, Louis XVI's trial, Louis Charles' abduction, Marie Antoinette's imprisonment in the Conciergerie and her execution.
Rosalie: [holding a white paper rose] Her Majesty gave me this on the morning of her last day. She made it with cosmetic papers in the cell, remembering Lady Oscar.
[Ah, so she indulged in origami during her imprisonment, did she? How elegant!]
Rosalie: And she said, "Rosalie, please colour this rose. The colour that Oscar liked." Then I suddenly realized I never asked Lady Oscar what colour rose she liked.
[That would be because it's not a common conversation topic. I don't care how bored people were in the 18th century. And I never knew Oscar to be an avid gardener, being so busy with soldiering and whatnot.]
Alain: I don't know about Oscar, but André would probably say he likes white.
Rosalie: Then I should keep it as it is.
Alain: Yeah, that's better.
And...that was it. Fersen's fate was described in two sentences by the narrator and that's how it ended. Le sigh. I shall stick to the originals from now on. They can't dissapoint me. *cough*Gankutsuou!*cough*
Oscar and Marie Antoinette as I would like to remember them.
I was very excited by it, as you well know. Lilian sent me a lovely Marie Antoinette wig to adorn my Webkinz panda (now known as Marie Pandoinette). Never mind that Oreo is actually a boy. He's comfortable in his own sexuality, darn it. I have also started the construction of my own Webkinz Versailles.
After having finished the anime, I am...torn. It was watchable enough and I did laugh at the streams of tears that sparkle like a million diamond fragments and the soap opera-like melodrama of it all. But is that not the point of shoujo? I even managed to overlook the portrayal of Duc d'Orléans as some mustache-twirling villain in a big black cape (well, without the mustache). That is not what bothers me.
The whole series is composed of 40 episodes and even though one starts to sense the unrest that leads to the French Revolution around episode 25, it takes quite awhile for it to move. I waited and waited and around episode 36, I started to get very antsy, because I knew exactly how much of the story is left and started to doubt if everything would be told satisfactorily in the remaining time.
I will now present a short summary of events that occur in the last few volumes of the manga:
Oscar (main character, female commander of the French Guards) decides to join the revolutionaries with her troops. Meanwhile, her best friend, André has been slowly going blind due to injuries that happened some years ago, but Oscar doesn't know about this. Oscar and André fall in love. Oscar takes her troops to support the citizens of Paris and André is wounded during battle. Oscar finds out that André is blind and he dies. The next day, Oscar leads the attack on Bastille and dies just as the prison falls into the hands of the revolutionaries. Then we shift focus to Marie Antoinette and everything that happened to her during the Revolution.
Oscar and André.Even though they're both as pretty as daisies, you can tell André is the guy because he has a square jaw.
Now, here are MY feelings while watching the final 5 episodes of Rose of Versailles.
Episode 36:
Shouldn't this move along? Come on, there's a whole whack of stuff left to tell! Surely they're not thinking of ending the series right after Oscar's death!
Episode 37:
Wait, the battle's not even started yet and Oscar knows about André's eyes? That makes no sense! Aw, Oscar and André are together. Took them long enough, stoopid Oscar and her idiotic waffling. It's André! WHEE! ^O^
Episode 38: Oscar decides to join the revolutionaries with her troops.
"I resign as your commander. Because the man I love and trust won't fire at the people, just like all of you. I'll follow what he says. If he fights with the people, I'll fight with them. I've become André's wife. I'd like to walk the same path as my husband."
Wait. WHAT? That's your reason for joining the revolution? Because you're in love with André? Okay, I know André is hot. I've been screaming at you for the last 20 episodes to stop mooning after Fersen and get together with André already. But the Oscar *I* know joined the Revolution because she believed in it, not some pansy reason that her lover wants her to. Where was this subservient nature for the past 37 episodes? This is wrong. I'm totally not gonna cry when you die, you twit.
Episode 39:
Why are you taking André with you into battle? Have you gone insane? He's going BLIND, you idiot! At least the Oscar in the manga didn't KNOW André was blind before she decided to let him handle a freaking rifle on a horse!
Oh great, he's dead now. Are you happy? You killed him with your stupidity, dumbass! Yes, cry. Like crying is going to make up for getting him killed. I have no sympathy! Poor André. He deserved better than the blonde idiot who snubbed him for 36 episodes. T_T *sniff, sniff*
Great. Now Oscar's dead and it was completely anticlimactic.
Episode 40: Finale
It takes 10 minutes for Oscar's death and the montage of illustrations. There's no denying that the portraits of Oscar and André are beautiful, but how are they going to tell Marie Antoinette's story in 10 minutes?
Oh I can't believe this. It's minor characters meeting 5 years later to discuss the events of the French Revolution, because one of them's writing a book about it. How serendipitous. -_-;;
It's a goddamn clip show. They made a clip show of the attack on Versailles, the escape to Varennes, Louis XVI's trial, Louis Charles' abduction, Marie Antoinette's imprisonment in the Conciergerie and her execution.
Rosalie: [holding a white paper rose] Her Majesty gave me this on the morning of her last day. She made it with cosmetic papers in the cell, remembering Lady Oscar.
[Ah, so she indulged in origami during her imprisonment, did she? How elegant!]
Rosalie: And she said, "Rosalie, please colour this rose. The colour that Oscar liked." Then I suddenly realized I never asked Lady Oscar what colour rose she liked.
[That would be because it's not a common conversation topic. I don't care how bored people were in the 18th century. And I never knew Oscar to be an avid gardener, being so busy with soldiering and whatnot.]
Alain: I don't know about Oscar, but André would probably say he likes white.
Rosalie: Then I should keep it as it is.
Alain: Yeah, that's better.
And...that was it. Fersen's fate was described in two sentences by the narrator and that's how it ended. Le sigh. I shall stick to the originals from now on. They can't dissapoint me. *cough*Gankutsuou!*cough*
Oscar and Marie Antoinette as I would like to remember them.Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I'm mere minutes away from sitting in my chair with drool running down my face.
When I first started this blog, I thought I would be writing a lot about my experiences as a student nurse, making her way into the exciting world of healing people and kicking ass, which oddly makes me sound like a strange video game character who goes around alternatively healing people in a benevolent Mother-Theresa-with-a-health-professional-degree fashion and stomping people's faces into the dirt while cackling with glee.
Like a ninja nurse.
O_O!!!
Ninja nurse! That's even better than Judero Hirabayashi, a former voice actress from Japan who became tragically addicted to cough syrup and was forced to make her way to Toronto in order to tear herself away from the terrible memories of her past life. Will we ever do an actual enactment of Untitled?
Anyway, back to my nursing adventures. They're not so much adventures as they are, shall we say, episodes that occur as I happen to pass by. It's not so much the confidentiality issue that stops me from writing about them. Goodness knows that I talk about my clinicals all the time and I'm always careful not to reveal any identifying features. "So my client was a man with green hair and lazy eye with one rainbow-coloured toe sock hanging off his left ear..."
My mind is too full of details, most of which I probably won't forget for the rest of my life. If you were to ask me about the very first client I ever had in the postpartum unit 30 years from now, I'd probably remember. I don't really feel the need to record every single thing that happens as I did during all those years in Westmount. If you begged me to write a Crazy E-mail now, then I couldn't, because those e-mails were for all of us. The funny things that happened when we formed our own TAG group in the third floor stairwell are important to me as they were to you, which is why I tried to record them as faithfully as I did all those years ago. One day, THE book will be finished when most of you will have forgotten what we did together. And hopefully you'll read it and all the memories will come whooshing back. And hopefully I'll finish it before we're all sitting in a WSS retirement community someplace. I picture a nice cul-de-sac with all of our houses arranged in a row. That is the dream, neh?
I don't know where I'm going with this, really. The nap in the evening really doesn't help with coherent thought process.
NINJA NURSE!
Like a ninja nurse.
O_O!!!
Ninja nurse! That's even better than Judero Hirabayashi, a former voice actress from Japan who became tragically addicted to cough syrup and was forced to make her way to Toronto in order to tear herself away from the terrible memories of her past life. Will we ever do an actual enactment of Untitled?
Anyway, back to my nursing adventures. They're not so much adventures as they are, shall we say, episodes that occur as I happen to pass by. It's not so much the confidentiality issue that stops me from writing about them. Goodness knows that I talk about my clinicals all the time and I'm always careful not to reveal any identifying features. "So my client was a man with green hair and lazy eye with one rainbow-coloured toe sock hanging off his left ear..."
My mind is too full of details, most of which I probably won't forget for the rest of my life. If you were to ask me about the very first client I ever had in the postpartum unit 30 years from now, I'd probably remember. I don't really feel the need to record every single thing that happens as I did during all those years in Westmount. If you begged me to write a Crazy E-mail now, then I couldn't, because those e-mails were for all of us. The funny things that happened when we formed our own TAG group in the third floor stairwell are important to me as they were to you, which is why I tried to record them as faithfully as I did all those years ago. One day, THE book will be finished when most of you will have forgotten what we did together. And hopefully you'll read it and all the memories will come whooshing back. And hopefully I'll finish it before we're all sitting in a WSS retirement community someplace. I picture a nice cul-de-sac with all of our houses arranged in a row. That is the dream, neh?
I don't know where I'm going with this, really. The nap in the evening really doesn't help with coherent thought process.
NINJA NURSE!
Friday, May 16, 2008
OH. MY. GOD!!!
I'm squealing with delight. Literally squealing with my fists wiggling at cheek level.
I just found online videos of the anime series "Rose of Versailles", which is my favourite manga of ALL TIME.
Rose of Versailles is a Japanese manga about Lady Oscar de Jarjayes, a fictional character in the court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette who is another prominent character along with her lover, Axel von Fersen. And you know how much I obsess over Marie Antoinette. I have scoured all the libraries in York Region and North York for biographies about her and read them all. I borrowed the Jane Seymour movie about her from the Westmount library and cursed Sophia What's-her-face for focusing more on shoes than character growth in her movie with Kirsten Dunst. I did projects on Marie Antoinette. I translated the first volume of the manga from Korean to English. I had my mother lug back a brand new set of the manga from Korea.
You cannot believe how excited I am. I'm probably not going to get any work done today.
I just found online videos of the anime series "Rose of Versailles", which is my favourite manga of ALL TIME.
Rose of Versailles is a Japanese manga about Lady Oscar de Jarjayes, a fictional character in the court of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette who is another prominent character along with her lover, Axel von Fersen. And you know how much I obsess over Marie Antoinette. I have scoured all the libraries in York Region and North York for biographies about her and read them all. I borrowed the Jane Seymour movie about her from the Westmount library and cursed Sophia What's-her-face for focusing more on shoes than character growth in her movie with Kirsten Dunst. I did projects on Marie Antoinette. I translated the first volume of the manga from Korean to English. I had my mother lug back a brand new set of the manga from Korea.
You cannot believe how excited I am. I'm probably not going to get any work done today.
I was brushing my hair...
...and everything looked normal. Then I brushed my hair back to find out that all of the hair on my head was actually attached to the posterior half of my scalp! I actually had a huge but convincing combover! I screamed so long and loud that my dad came into my room to ask what was wrong. I showed him my hideous half bald, half long haired head and he looked at it like nothing was wrong and said he would get me some Propecia. Somehow, that comforted me a lot. I did my combover again and went about my day.
I woke up sometime later. It was a scary dream. Scary!
I woke up sometime later. It was a scary dream. Scary!
Thursday, May 1, 2008
French vocab exercise 008
Exsultate, jubilate,
O vos animae beatae
exsultate, jubilate,
dulcia cantica canendo;
cantui vestro
psallant aethera cum me.
Rejoice, for exams are over!
I had my one and a half day of leisure, which was spent inevitably on cleaning the apartment, which I hadn't been doing for 2 weeks. I still want to scrub down the fridge and it's gnawing away at my brain, but I'll have time enough tomorrow to get that done.
I have to work harder at my French now, because I don't have classes anymore where I can use it. There's a good chance that I might get Francophone clients when clinicals start next week. I hope they're understanding of the fact that I don't really know many medical terms. ^_^;;
About the vocab exercise today, I like to think of it as part of the story between le Dr Maillat and Madame Pompadou. Just a hint of what happened between them before the very first exercise where he left her. I know. I'm goofy and nonsensical.
-accabler: to overwhelm, to overcome
accabler qqn de: to overwhelm someone with
accablant: oppressive, damning, exhausting
accablement: dejection, despondency
-accalmie: lull, temporary improvement
-accaparer: to monopolize, to carry off
accaparant: demanding
accaparement: monopolization
-accéder: to accede to, to give rise to, to reach
accédant à la propriété: a new homeowner
-accélérer: to accelerate, to increase
s'accélérer: to beat faster
accélérateur: accelerating, accelerator
accélération: acceleration
accéléré: fast
De plus en plus, la vitesse de sa parole accélérait et ses pensées sont devenues plus désorganisées. Il n'y avait pas d'accalmie de l'aboiement. Il ne pouvait plus tolérer la tempête de sa mauvaise humeur et il est sorti pour échapper à sa colère accablante. Dehors, ses émotions ont accédé à la décision la plus difficile de sa vie. Il ne pouvait pas permettre à lui de accaparer toute son énergie. Il devait partir.
Translation:
More and more, her speech accelerated and her thoughts became more disorganized. There was no respite from her ravings. He could not tolerate the storm of her temper any longer and he left to escape from her overwhelming anger. Outside, his emotions gave rise to the most difficult decision of his life. He could not allow her to monopolize all of his energy. He had to leave.
O vos animae beatae
exsultate, jubilate,
dulcia cantica canendo;
cantui vestro
psallant aethera cum me.
Rejoice, for exams are over!
I had my one and a half day of leisure, which was spent inevitably on cleaning the apartment, which I hadn't been doing for 2 weeks. I still want to scrub down the fridge and it's gnawing away at my brain, but I'll have time enough tomorrow to get that done.
I have to work harder at my French now, because I don't have classes anymore where I can use it. There's a good chance that I might get Francophone clients when clinicals start next week. I hope they're understanding of the fact that I don't really know many medical terms. ^_^;;
About the vocab exercise today, I like to think of it as part of the story between le Dr Maillat and Madame Pompadou. Just a hint of what happened between them before the very first exercise where he left her. I know. I'm goofy and nonsensical.
-accabler: to overwhelm, to overcome
accabler qqn de: to overwhelm someone with
accablant: oppressive, damning, exhausting
accablement: dejection, despondency
-accalmie: lull, temporary improvement
-accaparer: to monopolize, to carry off
accaparant: demanding
accaparement: monopolization
-accéder: to accede to, to give rise to, to reach
accédant à la propriété: a new homeowner
-accélérer: to accelerate, to increase
s'accélérer: to beat faster
accélérateur: accelerating, accelerator
accélération: acceleration
accéléré: fast
De plus en plus, la vitesse de sa parole accélérait et ses pensées sont devenues plus désorganisées. Il n'y avait pas d'accalmie de l'aboiement. Il ne pouvait plus tolérer la tempête de sa mauvaise humeur et il est sorti pour échapper à sa colère accablante. Dehors, ses émotions ont accédé à la décision la plus difficile de sa vie. Il ne pouvait pas permettre à lui de accaparer toute son énergie. Il devait partir.
Translation:
More and more, her speech accelerated and her thoughts became more disorganized. There was no respite from her ravings. He could not tolerate the storm of her temper any longer and he left to escape from her overwhelming anger. Outside, his emotions gave rise to the most difficult decision of his life. He could not allow her to monopolize all of his energy. He had to leave.
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