September 9th. The next time I will have internet access. Until then I'll be unpacking, drinking, and picking up on frosh. I'd give you my london number but I won't be in london. Happy packing to everyone and see you later!

There are mere hours remaining until I move back to London. I will finally be completey responsible, independent, and broke. Furthermore, compared to last year there isn' t much difference really. I was just hoping to spend more time at teh bar and less time trying to stay in while my roomates went to the bar. Meh, maybe I'll just have to find mmyself an increadibly hot house guest to save me money. Party tonight, said goodbye to Tara, it was sad. I'm not sure when I'll see her again.

I watched like ten minutes of wrestling tonight. Pecs on a guy is great. Super huge neck muscles are mutant. So are any type of overdeveloped muscle groups.

I have always loved my hair colour. Throughout elementary school I would always come up with very specific colours so that I could emphasis the colour of my hair. It was never red, always 'copper', 'auburn', 'rusty-orange'. Just to make it sound completely unique. But in the past few years my hair colour has been fading every winter and not quite reaching the original colour. Now my hair is almost, it hurts to say it, brown. There is nothing wrong with brown hair on everyone else, but brown hair on me? Honestly, I grew up being a red-head. Changing my hair colour would be like losing a limb.

whoa gees.

Today started out very rough. I think that my parents nagging has developed into more of a hobby than anything.
"Are you coming home tomorrow after work?"
"No,I'm going to a concert"
"oh, but don't you work till 7?"
"yes, and after work I'm going to a concert."
"Oh, well your Dad and I were talking and we think that you should be in before dark this week."
pause
"Um, nope. I don't think that's going to happen"

Then I got called late into work, meaning I could have spent ANOTHER night with Jaya and Jenni if I had known this previously. I was so angry about it that I went into work while chewing gum. Not just any gum, trident raspberry gum. I was chewing it very loudly and even blew bubbles while waiting on customers. Although this isn't as extreame as peeing in someone's iced tea like they do in Hamilton, it was still quite satisfying.

Then later into my shift I heard Dave, not once but twice on the radio. Also, I aquired three gorgeous boxes to pack my things into.

*sigh* so much better now.

My mom is really stressed about me leaving.
"So, are you moving out Tuesday?"
blank stare "Umm.... No, it's never been Tuesday. Sunday, Monday at the latest"
"Don't use that tone with me"
"Right."
"Well, just make sure you're all organised before you leave. Don't leave a mess"
"Well, since eveything I own is going with me I see it impossible to leave a mess"
"Everything?!?"
"Yes Mom, I'm moving out. I can leave a pair of socks at home if it makes you feel better"
"Don't be smart"
exit mom

In all honesty, does she seriously think that I'm going to return to a middle-of-nowhere, 1 o'clock curfew house simply for free food and air conditioning? Although living at home has other great advantages, I don't think that I could do it for another 4 months. Listening weekend after weekend on how my Dad "doesn't think it's a good idea" or my mom's "don't get drunk, you'll end up doing something you regret," the best standing excuse being, "why don't you just hang out here with us, you won't have to drive anywhere and you'll get to bed on time." Does this sound irrational to anyone else?

I think that things are best left wanting more. This summer was one of the first times that I actually got sick of things I initially liked. The -ripe for example. I used to be their best advertisment, now I'd rather make-out with Kevin Foley then spend another 8 hours in that fire-breathing building. But that is a very common attitude that many people develop towards thier place of employment. A better example is my 'home' friends. Although almost everyone is going to take offence to this, I get tired of doing the same thing with the same people, all the time. They are great in moderation, but if it's the only thing I do outside work and the internet I find myself making up lame excuses so that I can stay home and watch the same four Sex in the City episodes over and over again.

This is why, in a way, I'm glad that I wasn't eligible for IMC last year. All my IMC memories and good ones. Although I am still extreamly jealous of those who are going. But eventhough I get angry when I hear stories about how my little sister got caught in a rain storm and she and Jenni had to dangerously run through a field and take refuge near the tuck shop, if I had the chance I wouldn't go back.

Today my Dad brought home a puppy! It's like a mini-beardwyen. He's increadibly adorable. It almost makes me upset that I'm leaving in ten days! Almost.

Last week I went to value village and picked up some shirts. One of those was bright orange. I have now developed this new obsession with the colours orange and blue. I can't wait to get back to school!

- black cars
- turtles
- tim hortons
- strawberries
- rick mcgie
- punk re-makes
- pearl jam
- striped shirts
- men in uniform
- lord of the rings
- sex
- hugs
- nachos
- dashboard confessionals
- homework
- peach gum
- every time I look at my body in the mirror
- my old glasses
- my 'old man' sweater
- popcorn
- eating chocolate and disgusting hours of the night
- southern comfort and coke
- most of my undergarments
- odessey
- vintage dressshirts
- when the stars come out

These past few days I have been increadibly stressed. When someone asks me I tell them that I'm worried about going back to school or silly poo like that. Even sometimes I try to convince myself that is that reason. It's not. I'm sure that I would feel a lot better and just admit what I'm really worried about. Not be so proud and stuck up. Not being afraid of the outcome. But that won't happen. I'm a proud, defensive person. I always have to break limits. I have to be stronger, emotionally and physically, than everyone else. It's like I have the 'short man' complex, except I'm not short and I'm not a man. That set aside I still feel like I've been compensating for something my whole life. I'm not sure what that is. Could someone please tell me so I can end this foolishness?

Recently I've discovered that every good day could just be a little better.
I'll have a great day at work, or after winning a soccer game (or even losing), or have a great night out with friends and I find myself unsatisfied. The night/day would be perfect, if I was spooned. Although this isn't really an option for me right now it's still something that I desire. It's like the happy ending to all my stories "and then I went home and got spooned," except it never happens.
Today at work this guy gave me a really nice hug from behind. A gentle but firm hug, and he leaned his head against my shoulder. That was almost good enough. So if you're looking to make me happy, and don't want to get me in the sack, go for the 'from behind' hug.

Males only please.

Last night Mel took me to a 'Gay' bar in London. I still managed to pick up.

You know how people are always talking about random male erections? I think that women have them as well.

I just got my timetable off the internet for next year. First semester I have 27 hours, and second semester I have 23 hours!!!!!! I am officially in heaven. I am done a 2 on fridays, and I never have more than 8 hours of class a day. You have no idea how excited I am right now. I may have time to hang out with the guys this year and not escape from parties at 11:30. So pumped.

So I woke up in the middle of the night last night to find my pillow case soiled with vomit. I removed the pillow case, threw it on the floor, and passed out (again).
Mom: "Anna, it smells like vomit in here. Did you get sick?"
Me: "Yes, on my pillow case, it's on the floor."
I open my eyes and look up
"oh, and it seems I got sick on the wall too."
Mom: "And the floor right there,"
"yes, there's some down my shirt as well"
"What's that on you're face?"
"Oh. Yeah, that would be vomit,"
"Oh Anna,"
runs fingers through hair
"There's some in there too."
I look at the mint condition zucchini medley splattered on the wall
"I'm a slob. That's disgusting."

Dad:"I'm full. What's for desert?"
Mom:"nothing"
Dad:"Vaughn worked me too hard today I need some calories" (as he reaches for a cantalope)
Mom:"Harry, cantalope have no calories"

Tragically, after a courageous battle with weight loss, on Wednesday, July 31, 2002 at 6936 Warwick Village Rd, FTB of Anna Willemse passed away after many years of flattery and attention. Beloved ass of Anna, and loved by many of her peers. FTB was very active in Anna's teenage years and is the cause of her reputation today. FTB suffered from exhaustion after excessive use while Anna attended post-secondary education, both domestic and sexual. FTB will be greatly missed.

I have a confession to make. I slept in this morning until 11:00. I know that I talk about how you should get up early and make good use of your day. But it felt so good. But you know what felt even better? Doing nothing but reading meanlingless magazines, in bed, until now.