It is official. I have an addiction. I wish I could say that it was to something more exciting, but it isn't. I am addicted to the internet. Yesterday for some reason at work, I could not access the server. There is nothing more annoying than not being able to access my email. I had so many things I wanted to accomplish and couldn't because I could not get online. Thank goodness, someone lent me their laptop so that I could enter my marks. This generosity did however come at a price. I did have to enter two classes worth of codes. But at least I got that task complete.

Had a great night out last night. So much fun that I slept most of the day today.

Last week a friend offered to buy me a drink, and I asked for a Wife Beater. He went to the bar to ask the bartender for a wife beater. The bartender said that he didn't have the stuff to make one. I had to explain to both of them that a wife beater was simply a rye and coke. I guess it was a bad Brampton joke. Anyway, at least you have a new recepie for your collection.

Trying to stay out of trouble.

Am dreading my return to the airline this weekend. I am convinced that the only way I will ever leave is if they fire me. Stuck in the rut of not wanting to work and not wanting to quit.

Two moving thoughts... and so early in the morning.
One: Confidence and Tact

The students are writing exams this morning, and the usual silence in the halls was interupted with a class that pretty much tried to take over the exam room. They were unhappy (this is my guesstimate from eavesdropping on the hallway) because they didn't learn some of the material that was on their exam.

Interesting comment made by my little sister "When in life are you ever given complete background information"? Very true. So how is then that some people seem to know everything, and can never be wrong?

I always say that the best opinion is an educated one, but I think sometimes that we forget that sometimes we make our own assumptions about how much education we really have.

Truly... not that they were ignorant but how much more sense would it make to wait until after the exam and then talk to the teacher. Sarah says that "they're scared cause they don't have the confidence that comes with knowing that they will have a chance when it's more appropriate to adress the problem". And again.... not only teens lack this, but probably many adults as well. I will bite my tongue and not mention any names. (You can sigh right now.)

Two: Fire Safety

It could be me... but do people lack common sense. Was in Ottawa for the weekend at a beautiful hotel. "Arc The Hotel." Very trendy, very posh, and very central. So early in the morning... I am talking early. I am woken up by the screaming of a fire alarm. So I lie there for a minute and then decide to investigate.

In my opinion there are two horrible ways to go. Fire and Water (Interesting.... two opposites equally as horrible to die from.)

So, as the true consumate traveller, I get up to check out the scene. I always make sure that when I go to a hotel, I know where the exits are. I always have a flashlight with me as well. So i feel the back of the door with the back of my hand and feel no heat. So I slowly open the door. And low and behold, there is definatly smoke in the hallway. No hesitation.. I am out of there. Calm under pressure I quickly pack my purse, my credit card and my car keys. (I true shopaholic, as I am convinced that you should never, ever leave anywhere without some kind of financial resource.

Down the stairs we go. I say we lightly as we were the only two moving down to the lobby. NO ONE ELSE. What are people thinkng?

So we get into the lobby and the attendant is in high gear. Solo on the night shift. He says that it is a problem with the generator. When it starts up if the wond os going it pushes the smoke back into the building setting off the alarm. He is busy calling rooms to tell guests that it is not a problem. Again, not a single guest comes downstairs. I must be paranoid, but the last thing that I am going to do is wait for flames before I start running.

Safety first. (I do sound like a prude.)

Relationships. Why does such a simple word cause such problems. It boggles my mind that it is such a topic of discussion. I heard somewhere that Walt Disney has done a dis-service to young women. I would also suggest that Soap Operas are villanous as well. What does almost every girl dream of? A Knight in shining armour coming to sweep us off our feet. A large lavoush wedding. A princess dress, and the perfect party. Thanks Cinderella for planting these ideas in my mind. Soap Opera's... Men bearing gifts, and affection, dressed well, financially independant. My experience with relationships deserves it's own title.

Chatting with a friend today struggling with her own relationship challenges, and wondering why people have to suffer so much in order to find love. And why within all reason we know that thinking with our heart is not rational, but do it any way. Funny that men say that they will never understand women. I don't think that we underestand ourselves.

K

Handwriting is the dying art form. Really.... when was the last time you sat down and wrote a letter to someone. Not a card... a real letter. And no a group letter to update all of your friends what has been happening in your life does not count. How is it that we have let our lives get so complicated that we no longer write? I can only imagine how many letters we used to pass secretly to each other. Come to think of it, didn't we spend more time trying to fold them? And why (as I go off on a tangent) do I still have so many notes from highschool in my posession. Writing letters to each other used to be a daily event. I can't honestly remeber the last letter I wrote. Do all the notes I write to myself on scraps of paper to help me remember what I have to each day, and then leave behind every morning count?

Don't worry... my ranting does not mean that you will be getting a letter from me in the near future. That is me. Make a grand statement, and leave it at that.

Consider this your personal update.

No handwritten replies required.