Attenborough gives me cheer.

And so, I concoct this semi-permanent list to make the most of my horrendously short break.

*FANFARE*

December 21 – approx. 7pm: Run out of the exam room; burn fiercely into ashes; be reborn; wash away academicitis; nap time

December 22 – Work; buy gifts; cry with gusto; smile tons; make cards; youtube?;nap time

December 23 – Wake up; work; head back to Toronto; family time; annoy dog; acclimate to high decibels; pass out; eat things; never sleep

December 24 – Bro time; establish elder sibling dominance; use force if necessary; family time; establish dominance; get beat down by mother; church; presents (because we are impatient); cry because I will only receive clothes; better than socks; eat things; never sleep

December 25 – Merry Christmas!; hopefully it snows; YES > suffocate in snow(balls); NO > make snow(balls); pelt bros with ice cubes; smile tons; Christmas christmas christmas christmas hang-over

December 26 – Wake up late; begin Lord of the Rings movie marathon; force brothers to watch with me; get through one movie; attempt to cook/bake something; force-feed siblings; force-feed dog; force-feed self; more LOTR; catch up on sketch posts; throw tiny dog in snow; laugh; guilt-trip; give treats; problem solved; CAT NAP; more LOTR; never sleep

December 27 – Attempt to cook more food; catch up on sketch posts; assemble friends?; clear out social cobwebs; eat feelings; cabin fever sets in

December 28 – Set up fort in basement; force family and/or pet to stay in fort; blast some Motown; FORT NAP; wake up; catch up on sketch posts; movies; second attempt to assemble friends; fail; back to FORT NAP

December 29 – Lazy; MUST GET OUT OF HOUSE; probably too cold; get lazy; sit on couch; unavoidable nap; annoy dog; get bored; blast some Disco; clean

December 30 – OH GOD THE BREAK IS ALMOST OVER; sit in front of computer and Tumblr till I collapse; play Till I Collapse; update outdated mp3 player

December 31 – OH GOD THE BREAK IS ALMOST OVER; IT’S 2012; realize I’m an adult; career/employment anxiety; catch up on sketch posts; Happy New Year; who needs fireworks; shooting spree

January 1 – Set bar high of doing nothing for the year 2012; close blinds; do nothing

January 2 – Go back to Hamilton; whoremoans (Hormones); check grades; die

January 3 – Salvage sanity; back to school

Hey, I’m excited. This is some quality planning.

I don’t feel so good about it.

Fuck.

Is that wise?

I’m learning a lot about myself along the way.

Like how I am the most paranoid person in the world, how quiet I really am, how afraid I can be, how someone can have so much power over me and somehow, I don’t mind…yet. How the word awkward is a gross underestimate of my…awkwardness.

A lot of things are changing too but I think I’ll remain the same in the end anyway, regardless of how it turns out. Wherever it goes…

It’s nice. It’s different. I don’t know.

Wish me luck.

This is a rant. Please withhold your critical analyses and red ink.

Just thought to make a quick update before school gets going.

I won’t be posting every week but I will definitely do so when I need to…rant.

I will be updating my sketch and comic blogs regularly though. They serve as enough assurance to prove I am alive and well:

Daily Sketch blog:

http://www.joysans.blogspot.com

Regret Nothing a Webcomic (Updates Thursdays):

http://www.sexytuna.blogspot.com

At some point in those ten years I want to be uncomfortable, fidgety and anxious. I want to be out of my comfort zone–not all the time of course, but just enough to expand my horizons/learn something new about myself in a different situation.

I’m not the most adventurous person. I’m too cautious and I scare easily. I like to be comfortable, stable, secure–your average Taurean/lame-ass–just being honest. In fact, last night, I had a dream my family and I were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Guess what I was doing instead of drop-kicking some living dead? Stuffing supplies into a 40th floor apartment, shoving in my family and telling them to “Shut the hell up!” and proceeding to tape up the door so, “They won’t smell us”.

I’ve never broken a bone, got into a physical fight etc., not that I want to–I just want perspective that’s all, and I think I can do that through travel. Sans famille of course…

and the first thing I would do is walk miles and miles here:

–Ireland. I do love walking. Also, meeting someone like that would be a welcome event.

Until then, I’ll be busy getting money and getting paid. Hopefully, it doesn’t take too long to save up and grow the balls to go.

Being shy has been the bane of my 21 year existence. I came out of my mother crying because the doctor overstepped his boundaries and touched me, while all other babies cried because breathing for the first time was painful. I don’t like the idea of being two different people in different contexts.It kicks my ego in the face and says, “You don’t know who you are!”

But I do. I do. I do. I do.

Take some time to get to know me. Turn me online!

Yeah, no this post is not full of innuendos.

The thing about me,

is that I’m not so strong.

I’m afraid of small paper cuts and shiver in the dark.

I run and hide when thunder and lightning spark.

I think it’s because I fear the whole world.

Monsters are everywhere,

waiting, watching, hanging on every word.

I just want to lay on my bed,

hear your breath as you hold me close.

I’m safe in your arms, for now, I suppose.

 But I discovered the 2^ND floor of St. Martins Catholic School where a small and cozy library was nestled between the Grade 8 classrooms and fire escape. Do I dare wander near the Grade 8s?

 Unlike the one in my school in Riyadh this library was welcoming; the books were not in chains nor were they wrapped in plastic. I could borrow as much books as I wanted without any condescending librarian writing down my name in vicious script, muttering: “Don’t get this dirty. Bring it back by this date or I will tell the principal.” I borrowed my first book drenched in anxiety and conditioned fear, but the tiny white librarian woman only smiled and said: “Goosebumps? I like Welcome To Dead House the best.” I wrote my name in the prettiest cursive (which the librarian complimented).  I wonder if it’s still there.

 I enjoyed our class’ library visits where that same librarian would read to us and give us time to browse the shelves. I got so adventurous with my selections that sometimes I just ended up drawing the book covers because the English was still too difficult for me to understand. My English improved from all the reading I did and it gave me enough confidence to speak up. I made a lot of friends because I had a lot of stories to tell and crazy facts to share (Did you know? A crocodile cannot stick its tongue out. Did you know? Most tropical marine fish can live in a tank of human blood. Did you know? To take an oath, ancient Romans put a hand on their testicles).

 My favourite day of the week was Thursday because at 8pm the Toronto Library Van would make its way into our neighbourhood and stay for 2 hours in a parking lot 10 minutes away from our apartment. I went all the time despite the darkness, wall of snow and my parents’ constant warnings of rapists, murderers and grabby hobos who hung around outside our apartment building (they let me go anyway). I remember once or twice finding a book I’ve been looking for for so long that I signed it out, ran home and forgot to borrow more. One book was never enough.

 Two years later we moved to Mississauga and our new place was only 15 minutes away from the community library. My parents said they kept in mind how much I loved the library…and so I visited almost every day during summer vacation and even dragged my brothers along, even though they said they would rather sit and play video games. They never said so, but I know they enjoyed browsing the books. I sat between the bookshelves reading about fairies, amazing feats, weird medical conditions and torture devices. I secretly browsed the anatomy books to look at male and female genitalia. I read about sex and masturbation in snippets since I constantly had to look over my shoulder. I hid those glorious books  in bookshelf crevices and between other less borrowed books so nobody would take them, and I could read them again the next time I came back.

  I ran around the Romance section laughing and looking at the ridiculous book covers. I borrowed so much DVDs and VHS tapes and watched them all repeatedly far beyond the due date (I racked up quite the fees). I memorized knock-knock jokes, puns…I read how-to books: how to origami, how to cast spells, how to write poems, how to draw eyes, how to draw faces, how to draw poses, how to be an artist. I read about schizophrenia, depression and anti-social behaviour. I read about evolution, natural selection and genetics. I read about all the things that interested me and eventually shaped what I wanted to be.

 Now in university, I find comfort and solace in the libraries. Libraries remind me of my roots and my family’s beginnings in Canada. For me, the library represents everything I love in this country: freedom, opportunity, knowledge and variety. The library gave me the opportunity to shape my opinions about issues and ideas. The library gave me a place to hang out after school–without it I would have been sucked into continued loneliness, without the chance to realize who I could meet, who I am or what I could do. I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be me.

 I don’t agree with any kind of action that will limit access to libraries whether it’s just cutting down the amount of shelves allowed for the standard library bookshelf or closing down half the libraries in Toronto. So when Doug Ford proclaims that library cuts will happen “in a heartbeat” he’d better think about those who will be left out from the same opportunities I was lucky enough to take. He’d better think about the children who have nowhere to go after school and think about what they would be doing instead of going to the library to read Yu-Gi-Oh comics or who made it into the Guinness World Records by fitting the most straws in his/her mouth. He’d better think about the things children and adults will fail to discover, be curious about, learn about and dream about.

Sure I’d be happy. On the first day of winning/inheriting/stealing/coincidentally acquiring said million dollars, I would go straight to the bank, cash that bloody check (assuming it came as a check and not in a white powdered briefcase), go back home and roll around in it. Then I’d take a shower…in money!

I never fully understood its significance until I went to university and had to actually pay for shit. Tuition, books, travel costs…and as the years go by I have slowly become a tight fisted, anal retentive, stingy, cheap-ass who has actually contemplated having a secret night job in the streets of downtown Hamilton. I also frequently sign up for Psychology experiments around campus for some extra lunch money…too much info?

Money is a fucker; it toys with your soul:

Money: “Oh you want this dress?”

Me: “Yes!”

Money: “Okay…but you won’t have enough money to buy your school books.”

Me: “I do though! Just enough.”

Money: “No. You will never have ‘just enough’. ‘Just enough’ is reserved for the middle class.”

Me: “…”

Money: “You’re also fat, ugly and you eat poo.”

Me: “I don’t eat–”

Money: “The dress will never fit you.”

But when I think about it, IF I really did have a million dollars, I would go on with life as it is.

There are only two things I want to accomplish by having more money than I do now:

1) Pay my parents back for everything
2) More school!

Other than that…just having a shitload of money would be great, just so I don’t have to worry about anything!

What I wouldn’t give to be ballin’…