Hyperbolic Rhetoric

Last night I had and excellent dinner out at the Price residence. I love a good dinner party. And I had all the fun on making crumble prior-to, so what's not to like! I made tons of buttons for all, and decided that I desperately need a button maker. Hopefully at the next show I'll sell some buttons and I can save the money.

Speaking of money I just found out today that I didn't get the scholarship I applied for. It was probably the nicest rejection letter I've ever received, but still disappointing. This puts a whole new spin on how to go to India because I'm not going to have the money after my 202$ a week job for the next five weeks. Oh well. I'm sure I'll figure something out.

So back to last night, Steve and I went to the photo booth at Yonge and Bloor which was fun. I like to go before camp so that I can tape a strip into my journal and have it with me. I love those damn booths! He's on an overnight "business trip" in Sarnia tonight and I had to fight not to cry when I left him. I'm a big lovey nerd. I'm definitely in for a rough week ahead.

When I got to Y&E there was a girl who must have been sixteen throwing up into a garbage can, so I went upstairs and bought her a bottle of water and wrote down directions to her destination and waited with her for the train. Hopefully she got home okay. It was just bizarre that she was all alone. I think the Oprah that I watched yesterday about what to do when you get raped made me extra paranoid. But yes, I did what I could. The past two days have been themed with helping folk on the subway. I had a long conversation in French and English with a young guy from Moncton today as I directed him to little Italy. It's all very exciting.

Today was all filled with the fun of trying on pants with sexy mark brown. We exclaimed often and exhuberantly "Don't you hate pants!" I haven't done enough packing yet, which is sad.

Tomorrow is shot because I get up and leave for my MRIs in Kitchener. It turns out that my dad double booked himself, so he's now leaving me at the hospital to do this all alone and then I have to take the bus home. I don't know. I'll be okay, tests just shake me up a little bit. And hospitals are not my favourite place. I'm also wondering if diva cups can go through an MRI maching. That would be wild if it like melted the silicon into my vagina and then I get super powers or something... you know that mutation, super thing that happens? Maybe I could be called Cunt Princess, TTC Rescue Pussy and I could expel sharp diva nubbins from my yoni. Too much?

P.S. If Macleod is reading this... Mark is gonna be in the box this weekend, so don't get scared if you walk in on his naked ass!