12.01.05, 20:29.
Number eight

Thus far, I've written 7 entries in the year 2005. This is really, really sad. Adulthood isn't interesting. Nobody wants to read about my job, paying bills, car maintenance, and my wonderfully average, normal, healthy relationship. That's just not a good read.

(Really? Wanna bet?)

I work as a support clerk for the intensive care unit at a hospital. This week, I have seen a man with his entire head slashed open and full of stitches. I have seen babies that are no bigger than my pet guinea pigs, housed in incubators and seperated from their parents from birth. I've listened to doctors discuss what happened to patients, what they are going to do, and what the most likely outcome will be. Intensive care is much more calm, quiet, and peaceful than one would expect. There is no running around, no yelling "STAT!", no beeping machines and flatlining. It is mostly just elderly folk, fast asleep. The most interesting things that happen cannot be discussed, as I am strongly limited by confidentiality parameters. But I see, and hear, a lot of stuff in a day.

Paying bills? Yeah, that just sucks.

Car maintenance sucks too. My (brand new!) car has probably cost me upwards of $5000 in the almost six months that I've had it. None of this is out of the ordinary. This is just gas, insurance, and routine servicing. And snow tires. Mothereffing snow tires. Hughlughlg.

When it comes to my relationship, I sometimes feel like the celebrities say they do; I don't want to discuss it because it's nobody's business but our own. People know me well and still feel like they barely know Steve. We're very seperate people with very interconnected lives; this is the only way I feel that I can accurately describe our arrangement. And it's great. That said, I've already said more than I usually do and I'll leave it at that.

See? Adulthood? Boring. Seriously.

11.21.05, 22:21.
Why come home?

Absolutely consumably in love with Vancouver.

09.10.05, 20:58.
September oh-five

We found a new place! It's a gorgeous little two-bedroom near the river and downtown.

We bought a new couch! It's sage green microsuede.

My new job is fun and my paycheques are freaking awesome. I have one week of training left (finally finished!) and then I'm "casual" and can pick up as many or as few shifts as I like. I'm considering applying for a full-time position next week, since there's one open right now. My co-workers are nagging me to because they love me so much.

If you'd like to donate a few bucks to sponsor me in a breast cancer run, please click here.

It's totally legal in Canada to marry your cousin. That's so icky. I googled "marrying cousin canada" to get more info on it and it came up with 121,000 results that seemed almost entirely to attempt to convince me that getting together with a cousin is a wonderful idea. EW.

I'm off to watch "Kinsey". I hear he cuts his penis off at the end of the film. I'm pretty sure that never happened in real life. Surely, somebody in my 4 years of Psychology classes would have mentioned that if it was true.

More than half of my favourite diaries are now defunct. I haven't bought a new cd in years. I need to develop a taste for new things instead of relying on the same-old to entertain me.