tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52834108154011989592024-02-07T03:23:56.179-05:00rain like staticIrenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-60297388838579768732016-10-07T00:41:00.000-04:002016-10-07T00:41:46.653-04:00It's been a while.So I haven't really been blogging a lot lately (understatement) and have only just decided to maybe pick it back up again because I've been checking up on other people's blogs, which reminded me that I had my own blog! I am terrible at journalling (laziness and my love for tangents and parentheses) but I do see the purpose for them since I did really enjoying rereading my old blog posts. Also, it's fun to write again, or well, not fun but helpful.<br />
<br />
So lately I've been feeling really blessed, not to say my life is particularly great (definitely not by the world's standard), but that I'm really able to appreciate this stage in my life that God has put me in. I am so easily able to recognize all the blessings God has currently given me, however, at the same time I have this slight fear that he will take these blessings away from me. I mean, God completely has the right to but this just makes me have this slight apprehensive feeling in the small back corner of my thoughts poking away at my brain and heart. It's terrible to be already worrisome of the future ahead just because I can see the blessings now. I don't know if that means I have the wrong mindset (probably) as it makes it seem like God is a whimsical God who just takes and gives for no reason. Anyway, that's just what has been going through my brain lately and which has reflected in my prayers as well as I always pray for future Irene, that if she ever loses the blessings she has now she will not be super ungracious to God. I'll like to think future Irene is strong and grounded in truth but my fear is that my faith sits on a lot more shallow soil than I would like. We shall see as I continue to weather through life. However, at least for now, I can continue to count my blessings and try to do so with less worry.Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-7229328047869759032013-03-24T22:44:00.002-04:002013-03-24T22:44:37.684-04:00I have a lot of metaphors about water.<br />
<br />
Why?Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-30176932721323643152013-03-23T22:37:00.001-04:002013-03-23T22:37:23.362-04:00So I'm woefully unprepared in lifeI did it again. I'm really not even trying. Instead of preparing for the Easter activity tonight I went out for Dim Sum this morning with friends (which is alright because it's just morning) but then later in the afternoon I watched a movie (!!!) instead of working on tonight's lesson.<br />
<br />
The movie was good though.<br />
<br />
But still. I wasn't really a steward of my time. I need to really watch what I'm doing. Now I feel like I completely missed the opportunity to share Easter with these two new girls who came. I think the idea and activities were awesome but I'm really just not good with time. I let it completely slip and swim around me and I really need to learn to be more accountable for what I spend my time doing.<br />
<br />
<br />Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-60143822350369075712013-03-22T23:49:00.001-04:002013-03-22T23:51:13.774-04:00My Brain that works sadly on tangentsI'm so complacent most days that it almost feels good to be angry.<br />
<br />
I know I just wrote that statement but I'm not even sure if it's completely true. I want to believe it is but if I were to properly dissect it... am I really complacent? does it really feel good to be angry? Maybe not the anger part. Maybe it just feels good to care enough about something that I got angry about it. Because I guess I haven't cared enough for most things in a while.<br />
<br />
It could also mean that I'm too afraid to care about some stuff to actually have it drive me, rile me up, take action. So the answer is d) all of the above. I want to say I'm too afraid to try for things and that explains my inaction. But I don't believe it's really fear. I guess I just don't want to waste effort in things that might not give me a result. I just don't want to expend time on something that may lead me to nothing.<br />
<br />
Which is obviously a really stupid way to think. I admit it. I'm not the brightest. And yes, I am extremely self-deprecating. It's obviously a defense mechanism. If I don't like myself this much, it's almost like it helps me care less that people may not like me. Which really doesn't work at all.<br />
<br />
Oh man, I'm like a black hole of issues. Which is a paradox. I don't think black holes hold things. Don't take my word on it though. I've realized recently that I am completely uneducated about certain things. I know squat about black holes. Except that it's in space and that it sucks. Literally.<br />
<br />
So I'm trying to work on my spirituality. (Yes, this is a tangent, you'll have to work with me here... tangents and off topics and meanderings and wanderings are bound to happen in this blog now that I plan to journal...) And so that means my new goal is to blog about my feelings and thoughts about my day but try to bring it all back to God so I'm reminded of what my faith is and what my purpose is. I'm really not one to talk about spirituality or my beliefs. I prefer it to lie quietly at the back of my mind until it's prodded in church by questions that I don't have answers to but I should (because I've pretty much been in church all my life). So now it comes to a point in my life where I really have to think and look at my faith and just admit to myself why I really believe. And is it really real to me. I really really want to yes that it is... but it's been a while and I honestly can't say I have a real connection with God. Do I want one? Oh yes! But do I try to attempt to get to know? The answer is a sadly, a pretty resounding no. It comes back to my inaction and complacency. It's frustrating.<br />
<br />
I really drive myself crazy sometimes. Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-14959921806490810622013-03-22T23:30:00.000-04:002013-03-22T23:54:20.287-04:00So I'm static.It has been brought to my attention that I severely lack in self-reflection and that sometimes when I talk I feel somewhat illiterate. Because me no English good. Then I feel bad when people ask me what I studied. It's shameful. I'm not eloquent. I'm barely articulate.<br />
<br />
How in the world am I supposed to speak to people? Or talk to a classroom of kids? It honestly shames me. I feel like I portray myself as incredibly stupid and shallow and I'm really starting to wonder if I am.<br />
<br />
Is my inability to speak really limiting my ability to think? By losing my words and speech, am I oppressing the extent of my mind by making my words smaller and simpler? It really feels like it.<br />
<br />
There's also so much I struggle with. I just feel so all around COMPLACENT that it is starting to strangle me. I'm not always the best with metaphors but I can compare it to feeling like I'm in a vast ocean, feeling like my inadequacies are so deep and so dark and so pulling that I can drown any moment. But instead of figuring a way out to get myself out of the ocean or trying to build myself a boat. I just simply doggie paddle around. Just coasting in life. Barely skimming the surface. Completely overwhelmed and just barely breathing above it.<br />
<br />
See?? Worst metaphor ever! How did I even pass English? Why am I even teaching English to kids?<br />
<br />
Well, let's get this out of the way: I never said I was deep. Not that I'm not trying to get past my shallow shell (and I would love to think that I could be deeper than I am) but oh, what a struggle it is to express what I want to say to people when the words are so murky in my mind, yet, I know they're there if you give me a bit of time. But rarely do I associate eloquence with slowness or pauses even though I know people can be eloquent and a slow speaker.<br />
<br />
I don't even know where I'm getting at here.<br />
<br />
What I really wanted to do in this blog now is to really blog about things that matter. Things that I really need to dissect and think about. Also to remind myself that I have words. That even though I can't speak, I can still write.<br />
<br />
But nowadays, when I'm not with the right people (and most often I'm not) I feel voiceless and speechless. And sometimes when I am talking, it's like I'm saying nothing at all. Pure static and white noise. Nonsense and insignificance. <br />
<br />
I'm willing to admit right here that what I'm writing is to prove myself that I am more than what I think I am.<br />
<br />
And by gosh, do I now realize how much I do actually have to say when I blog/journal. And thank goodness I never deleted this blog.<br />
<br />
So here I am again. Just allowing myself to rant away!Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-14884186566225546352012-02-08T22:54:00.000-05:002012-02-08T22:54:40.835-05:00I think I'm going to start tumbling. Is that the word for when you use tumblr? Tumbling? I don't really know. I'll still blab here but... Tumblr is where I going to try to put up as many doodles as I can.<br />
<br />
http://reenspergason.tumblr.com/<br />
<br />
I don't really understand tumblr though. :-/Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-76809502822893296182012-01-11T15:30:00.000-05:002012-01-11T15:30:09.517-05:00Today I realized I'm getting old and I still act like I'm 12. Time to implement some change in my life!Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-75647673969453544172011-10-25T20:09:00.001-04:002011-10-25T20:11:44.429-04:00Remember When We Were Young?So remember that class where I missed 2% because of Community? Hah Hah, funny story...<br />
<br />
So yeah, not only did I miss that 2%, I also completely put that class on the backburner, thinking to catch up to it... <i>when I felt like it</i>. Let me tell you, that's always a completely BAD idea, especially when you'll never <i>feel</i> like Women's Poetry. That just doesn't happen.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I realized last week that I had a midterm THIS week on that class. I completely freaked out on myself and did five weeks of reading in one week. It was the most intense week. You must see my agenda, it is finally defaced and has WORK in it.<br />
<br />
And because this blog post was not just a pity party about my work but to showcase my pretty agenda, I shall do that now:<br />
<br />
LOOK AT THE PRETTY COLOUUURS!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Before:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbn5LGFXViW4vgfK8Qb4DbUDfZijhaKiwtHYR2reysDR7wCdWBzchQl8Ih7A6slREyot4aapx6ct8FSpvY0XF4nyuJEpvasihOCeCFrV9Chz87wDEq8kJIiMKDBjAVkrmIgMn6yRB6u0/s1600/10242011168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbn5LGFXViW4vgfK8Qb4DbUDfZijhaKiwtHYR2reysDR7wCdWBzchQl8Ih7A6slREyot4aapx6ct8FSpvY0XF4nyuJEpvasihOCeCFrV9Chz87wDEq8kJIiMKDBjAVkrmIgMn6yRB6u0/s320/10242011168.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Notice how my Reading Week is empty? Don't Procrastinate!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">After:</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQvDxBJ5fnq2dTifsXUmNfp64x2pPQxlT20hlk-PPnSkbiqfbUcdn0rQbrRmmv3jEqPel3IDtajpA_nZo7Ba7x9PxIZPwvodb6C8W6a-FyVTO7nA1pffoiyQMXCYGJOJi5sO1p2TCNMI/s1600/10242011167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimQvDxBJ5fnq2dTifsXUmNfp64x2pPQxlT20hlk-PPnSkbiqfbUcdn0rQbrRmmv3jEqPel3IDtajpA_nZo7Ba7x9PxIZPwvodb6C8W6a-FyVTO7nA1pffoiyQMXCYGJOJi5sO1p2TCNMI/s320/10242011167.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7ffIWD6riXxX1ZPf1P6HohNQiw-1TuGM7cxLW8aNDK_PAKcxuMQHsjY7cJKWdIZEVnETmLvGS0wxplBUHclW-nN6yisTqovDDl-OR-iVLlT1_JkjLtfgfB7otvntD7hu2xGJViEvLmE/s1600/10242011166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7ffIWD6riXxX1ZPf1P6HohNQiw-1TuGM7cxLW8aNDK_PAKcxuMQHsjY7cJKWdIZEVnETmLvGS0wxplBUHclW-nN6yisTqovDDl-OR-iVLlT1_JkjLtfgfB7otvntD7hu2xGJViEvLmE/s1600/10242011166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7ffIWD6riXxX1ZPf1P6HohNQiw-1TuGM7cxLW8aNDK_PAKcxuMQHsjY7cJKWdIZEVnETmLvGS0wxplBUHclW-nN6yisTqovDDl-OR-iVLlT1_JkjLtfgfB7otvntD7hu2xGJViEvLmE/s320/10242011166.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz7ffIWD6riXxX1ZPf1P6HohNQiw-1TuGM7cxLW8aNDK_PAKcxuMQHsjY7cJKWdIZEVnETmLvGS0wxplBUHclW-nN6yisTqovDDl-OR-iVLlT1_JkjLtfgfB7otvntD7hu2xGJViEvLmE/s1600/10242011166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Btw, I adore post-it notes. Absolutely *adore* them. Nothing makes me happier than books, movies and stationary. And food. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-71194329672941756672011-10-13T18:32:00.002-04:002011-10-13T18:43:01.612-04:00The story of how I Inceptioned my sisterHaha,<br />
<br />
so a new year has started for school and the same thing happens every year. I totally feel unmotivated, which means I'm constantly testing deadlines and pushing myself to the limit. Not in a good way. So this means you'll find me sitting at the computer for ten hours trying to convince myself to do my work until it's the next day and I finish it in half an hour expecting just as good results as if I spent hours on it. I make the future me so angry with the past me.<br />
<br />
It'll probably look like this if timelines with past me, present me and future me existed together:<br />
<br />
Present Me lazing around the internet (probably looking at fluffy animals looking fluffy on Youtube): "Aw man, Future Me is going to be sooo pissed that I'm not doing something productive. Future Me is totally going to curse me for not even looking at my agenda. Future Me is going to be screwed about that deadline tomorrow. In fact, I'm pissed at Past Me from five minutes ago already; WHY DIDN'T I EVEN START ANYTHING ALREADY? OMG, which totally makes me SUPER ANGRY at FIVE SECOND AGO PAST ME... because I'm still angsting about this without starting my work still!!"<br />
<br />
And yeah, you can see, it's not pretty when I'm just harrassing myself about working... instead of, you know, working. <br />
<br />
So anyway, recently I completely screwed myself over 2% of my grade because I didn't do an online post for a class (and yet I did an online post for a class that is Pass and Fail... Priorities, what are they?) and instead spent three beautiful days doing a Community show marathon.<br />
<br />
Best three days of my life.<br />
<br />
Best three regretful days of my life (when I think hard about it... but I won't).<br />
<br />
But before anyone judges, I totally spent those three days productive in another manner... and no, not productive in a Community Marathon manner, which also counts, but I actually accomplished something! I've always told my sister to watch the show but she consistently remarked that the show sucked and it wasn't her humour. Well, anyway, I'm a tenacious being (in some aspects of life, mainly where homework isn't concerned //this is totally going to bite me in the butt when I become a teacher.) so I thought to slowly INCEPTION her into loving the show (because I'm a loving sister and believe good things MUST be shared... and I also can procrastinate like MAD). The way I inceptioned her into loving the show was to reluctantly play Monopoly Deal with her only if she allowed me to choose a show to put on as background noise. So slowly as we played Monopoly Deal, and I demonstrated how distracting and awesome the show was, she was slowly hooked. And that was all we did together for THREE days, watch NONSTOP Community. It was easily the best sister bonding moment ever.<br />
<br />
I tell you, some things are worth more accomplishment wise. 2%? Nah! Getting your sister to love Community? TOTALLY FTW! :D<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh59pu0Y6Xur_6go30pCk-rCaizdBcEnPAejrmWvlg8Raxk6cxdn6Zh9Xk0CSIpjiyc-it2Jpp3ZmIRA4JMHaoXSd0fUIHn1mEEAIKyvravgJTHhvq84nrq3Pe_wpg8qayb969EJz7tqsY/s1600/community-show.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh59pu0Y6Xur_6go30pCk-rCaizdBcEnPAejrmWvlg8Raxk6cxdn6Zh9Xk0CSIpjiyc-it2Jpp3ZmIRA4JMHaoXSd0fUIHn1mEEAIKyvravgJTHhvq84nrq3Pe_wpg8qayb969EJz7tqsY/s320/community-show.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-13523764549054408912011-08-31T16:15:00.001-04:002011-08-31T16:16:26.965-04:00Being organized.Hopefully this year with an actual Agenda I will be prepped and organized.<br />
<br />
It'll also most likely become my new doodle book. :D<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXLTapDBFHLN2qVQQhdzFDykiGRzrAdqzbchTzs98FYZfMdVQHg0fuxntYofn4pIRkfQFKLVi6qpIbynfPkF3p5JwOfB0WDbCwbTsn1o-pxygIBJ8fX5_vYtVLRLZABoQa_Q8ngGNkOQ/s1600/agenda+asian+birds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXLTapDBFHLN2qVQQhdzFDykiGRzrAdqzbchTzs98FYZfMdVQHg0fuxntYofn4pIRkfQFKLVi6qpIbynfPkF3p5JwOfB0WDbCwbTsn1o-pxygIBJ8fX5_vYtVLRLZABoQa_Q8ngGNkOQ/s320/agenda+asian+birds.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsijg_gDUlGsfh3WGNUS5r9_lHaKTQ9DH1atFqybsnnN1QwiNhwcaxBSlwDG24hcIU9kU4daqeJmmrSWLGt4ALWWWzPNXVwSM2jClM8P1WBNB8xODjH8ESwpU-Jeirwmcbio4oclSzEo/s1600/agenda+open.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVsijg_gDUlGsfh3WGNUS5r9_lHaKTQ9DH1atFqybsnnN1QwiNhwcaxBSlwDG24hcIU9kU4daqeJmmrSWLGt4ALWWWzPNXVwSM2jClM8P1WBNB8xODjH8ESwpU-Jeirwmcbio4oclSzEo/s320/agenda+open.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-49629960996050065902011-08-31T15:54:00.001-04:002011-08-31T15:56:49.580-04:00I succumb so easilyto useless things. But they make me so happy!<br />
<br />
This is Charley*<br />
He is a Horse!<br />
He is shy but he likes sunshine!<br />
He does not make friends easily because he is socially awkward.<br />
:P<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLTX1DGZ6GPF25idZmLw82_ApAQ-625zB-rVWP7P5cp3-09nXIYPobLcORBN2sP84-IVzKQrI8FmxyVKzLkzoIehzzqohvNwtVhQlqC30xm3WDHBGB9KvWDSSvSw9J62O4ROk6HOl8O3s/s1600/08282011149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLTX1DGZ6GPF25idZmLw82_ApAQ-625zB-rVWP7P5cp3-09nXIYPobLcORBN2sP84-IVzKQrI8FmxyVKzLkzoIehzzqohvNwtVhQlqC30xm3WDHBGB9KvWDSSvSw9J62O4ROk6HOl8O3s/s320/08282011149.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span id="goog_641466692"></span><span id="goog_641466693"></span><br />
And here are some things I accidentally bought at CNE. I need to stop buying useless things but they are so adorable!!!!!! And really, technically, together it is semi-useless because at least the mousepad is useful. It makes me so happy! :D<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrT8d8inrvxRsTP4HfMfbf-1ibOnRPuVaZzbd3R2KKfpTuq4YZHnhjb_q1NLaT5B6g6qVwP8VXMbR2CDs2HgLTNVgeDJZNFC3OzVfqcpghL4NY9y7PomlSBamPFuH_c44F5nj3Qz_rB7k/s1600/08312011152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrT8d8inrvxRsTP4HfMfbf-1ibOnRPuVaZzbd3R2KKfpTuq4YZHnhjb_q1NLaT5B6g6qVwP8VXMbR2CDs2HgLTNVgeDJZNFC3OzVfqcpghL4NY9y7PomlSBamPFuH_c44F5nj3Qz_rB7k/s320/08312011152.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>*(hehe, my sister named him... Charley as in Charley Horse!). Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-35534712079969882622011-08-09T20:24:00.000-04:002011-08-09T20:24:51.738-04:00I'm only productive when I feel like it... and it isn't very often.<br />
<br />
Here are some pictures of things I've been up to... which is not a lot.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3kkPRs-F2uul4Nvyp0RzXbTlBjGA5yE-2zwvMeRKC-UWtLjBWSMWnkH7M-nClpUcm9RAAS3Bf2OMxGSWA0rquQDvMrOO3pcpn3b7ezT4Z0sXbH5xTmYRqWQI6zQcnmnCB6H_LDJGuv8/s1600/souvenirs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW3kkPRs-F2uul4Nvyp0RzXbTlBjGA5yE-2zwvMeRKC-UWtLjBWSMWnkH7M-nClpUcm9RAAS3Bf2OMxGSWA0rquQDvMrOO3pcpn3b7ezT4Z0sXbH5xTmYRqWQI6zQcnmnCB6H_LDJGuv8/s320/souvenirs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-84507837984125400342011-06-11T19:52:00.000-04:002011-06-11T19:52:10.716-04:00I giggle infinitely more when I'm by myself.Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-63788455417001282032011-06-11T19:50:00.001-04:002011-06-11T20:00:30.011-04:00Fishes, AGAIN.I spent a good 3 minute talking to my fish and telling him how I had a dream where I forgot to feed him with a bunch of other fishies in the tank (which I don't have, as they all died off instead of him... The past fishes are a-haunting!) and then they were so starving hungry that they picked and nipped at him till he died and laid in a pool of his own blood. It was very sad.<br />
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Anyway, the point is, I spent THREE MINUTES talking to my fish. That is two minutes and fifty seconds MORE than I should be talking to a fish.<br />
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This is sadness. THIS IS SPARTA!!!<br />
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And in those three minutes I also tested its psychic ability by telling him to swim up or down within a time limit if it could understand me.<br />
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And he did. He really did. I don't even know if I'm even half-serious anymore. What is wrong with me??!Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-22292545707820460072011-06-05T00:59:00.000-04:002011-06-05T00:59:32.720-04:00Winter SkyThere was one day in winter (a really cold day) where the sky was a bright cheery storybook blue.<br />
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It was really nice. And it's a memory I keep because it makes me happy. :)Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-84168772292717777152011-05-04T15:07:00.001-04:002011-05-04T15:13:35.376-04:00I've picked up felting again. Me and my sister have been doing it like mad these past few days. There is something strangely calming about felting and it's really simple to do!<br />
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We're also thinking about selling them because they make really great pins. So cute! <br />
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Here are several of our creations:<br />
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I'm also thinking about starting a new art project with these random bits of decorative metal I found while walking on Kensington Market with a friend. So cool! :D<br />
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Maybe some jewelry, some bobby pins... whatever!Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-12222600075795812932011-04-26T10:55:00.001-04:002011-04-27T18:33:15.246-04:00My IgnorancceDiscovering my ignorance in World Geography, I have decided that this summer I will attempt to educate myself so I will be more aware globally. At this time I'm also itching to read on some mass conquering figures of the past world like Alexander the Great or Genghis Khan so that hopefully I would learn about the past and the present.<br />
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I also want a World Map so that every time I find myself ignorant of a place or unable to geographically locate something I can whip out my gigantic world map, spread it on the table a la pirate/conquering figure style and search through it wildly like I'm on a quest. I feel as if this will help me learn much better and there will be a greater sense of drama and suspense as I discover new places.<br />
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Arr!Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-52058425527441003302011-04-20T20:54:00.002-04:002011-04-20T20:54:31.403-04:00Storybook TalesI want to be a heroine in my own novel. Not a side-bit character.Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-16736616343620545832011-04-07T14:44:00.006-04:002011-04-07T14:47:40.128-04:00Tim BurtonWent to the Tim Burton exhibition last Sunday. Superb! Love him! Love his art more than his films actually, and his quirky poems.<br />
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I couldn't help myself at the gift shop, I had to buy a Tim Burton figurine, and I think it's cute and cupcake looking. I want to EAT it. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcS-jyaMybjGQ9JP91IAFt59H_VF8hPNmJwYR9Rq6I48lfupZGFRuihdHklQye4GBGF3kOez-5L9l6_1E5UJ5iYMcI2TXA8rqRFDQJ3tv8Tc91Kjrot1khYSwEzLrxF4Lr4FwTzprIqw/s1600/figurine+stand+gloomy+bear+nutcracker+pin+cushion+queen+sock+puppet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcS-jyaMybjGQ9JP91IAFt59H_VF8hPNmJwYR9Rq6I48lfupZGFRuihdHklQye4GBGF3kOez-5L9l6_1E5UJ5iYMcI2TXA8rqRFDQJ3tv8Tc91Kjrot1khYSwEzLrxF4Lr4FwTzprIqw/s400/figurine+stand+gloomy+bear+nutcracker+pin+cushion+queen+sock+puppet.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDSQBMlEkQzTxIWhUdUFYhVfuV8dHKT635JoCrObVrN3LRvYyB0p-B7Fm6UZ7Pjb0n4xb3smKH4dstKZY4HU3zk1qU05P9qayK3HPtAzurSY9wCO1sv-I5lx309-oHx3kkQnRAllWgLw/s1600/pin+cushion+queen+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDSQBMlEkQzTxIWhUdUFYhVfuV8dHKT635JoCrObVrN3LRvYyB0p-B7Fm6UZ7Pjb0n4xb3smKH4dstKZY4HU3zk1qU05P9qayK3HPtAzurSY9wCO1sv-I5lx309-oHx3kkQnRAllWgLw/s320/pin+cushion+queen+photo.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik01ZG_qZoX0MAEMU-qEzsYtsW5nBpTOm1Arx2AFftJgKoxaNU5V_lWXmFeUewlglF4dj7jp_trqOUJOZTmlUOLxuKUO8kGHjJcBZEn0XaW0PRjIhDhgH6TRkeZcjzRjFgK-O_5UHzPpY/s1600/pin_cushion_queen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik01ZG_qZoX0MAEMU-qEzsYtsW5nBpTOm1Arx2AFftJgKoxaNU5V_lWXmFeUewlglF4dj7jp_trqOUJOZTmlUOLxuKUO8kGHjJcBZEn0XaW0PRjIhDhgH6TRkeZcjzRjFgK-O_5UHzPpY/s320/pin_cushion_queen.jpg" width="192" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Life isn't easy</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> For the Pin Cushion Queen</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> When she sits on her throne</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> Pins push through her spleen.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">by: Tim Burton </span></span></div>Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-82234491957682504742011-04-07T14:07:00.000-04:002011-04-07T14:07:47.556-04:00I want this for lunch, SO BAD<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>But then I think about how someone had to have shaped that with their hands.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTvG4aCmwIBIhAaFvzDPix2PRzIzxKEHElGlxPn3UkSgizGymbLqkFLiz-KMEp4F9GIi_4AEqdKFoz3BkxcTuANoek6SU-6UGL637m7lmZ3gxACszFjuqUt7ip9AmpQ7iFZT-Wk11tKM/s1600/totoro_bento.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTvG4aCmwIBIhAaFvzDPix2PRzIzxKEHElGlxPn3UkSgizGymbLqkFLiz-KMEp4F9GIi_4AEqdKFoz3BkxcTuANoek6SU-6UGL637m7lmZ3gxACszFjuqUt7ip9AmpQ7iFZT-Wk11tKM/s400/totoro_bento.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
ehhhh... I'll probably still eat it. Lunch challenge of the summer!!!Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-53237634568922805972011-04-04T23:05:00.000-04:002011-04-04T23:05:03.006-04:00I have to go to work tomorrow. *cries*<br />
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And I only pretended to work on my assignments today. Now I'll be wasting a day AND a half. This is bad. :(Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-80555816226947175762011-03-30T22:43:00.000-04:002011-03-30T22:43:23.307-04:00Bleep Bleep Bloop Bloop.<br />
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I want to be robotized. Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-48467409187214874642011-03-26T20:14:00.000-04:002011-03-26T20:14:37.214-04:00Story on a Post-it NoteSo I did something that I thought only happened in dramas...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNEekqvkFRZt41sI_s3o-LF-J-1rA_2kfYHO_Ss57TBrQjZ3l6s3zAkRaIPbBzegn7mAG1gucOZ9HEc5OqPBL31Y3eOmi_z7rC05ULsgqeys_T0zjvUbyTgtc4jxk_duQunb_KG5M-buA/s1600/post+it+note+story+embarassing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNEekqvkFRZt41sI_s3o-LF-J-1rA_2kfYHO_Ss57TBrQjZ3l6s3zAkRaIPbBzegn7mAG1gucOZ9HEc5OqPBL31Y3eOmi_z7rC05ULsgqeys_T0zjvUbyTgtc4jxk_duQunb_KG5M-buA/s400/post+it+note+story+embarassing.jpg" width="397" /></a></div><br />
Recently in ASL (American Sign Language) class we've been learning how to describe people with signs. Our professor likes to put up pictures from magazines and have us describe them. There was one photo he put up with two baseball players where one man was kissing the other on the forehead. I suppose that picture stuck with me because on the bus later I fell asleep and had a dream where I was platonically kissing people on the forehead. I woke up halfway through my dream to find myself pursing my lips in a kiss to no one in particular. Upon realization I quickly stopped.<br />
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But Boy, was that awkward.Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-25983979534946109202011-03-21T21:22:00.002-04:002011-03-23T22:48:25.628-04:00Creepy NinjaI had a moment yesterday where I felt completely liquid. I mean the feeling I get where I feel all over the place. Where my thoughts aren't completely contained and I'm just not solid enough to remain in my skin. I just kind of ooze all over. My thoughts kind of slip and slide all over but I'm not giddy or excited, just lethargic. Like I left little pieces of self-goo in different locations. Wherever I am, I just drip and drool some part of me behind. <br />
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It's a strange description, but pretty apt for what I felt.<br />
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And here are some creepy doodles to explain. I apologize for said creepiness:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZEFzMISGe2PCDzekpoLe1UyPcNUIqpv1aEBmyPDGCHcMntK_7nSvPImhfP_JrXDd1gOxpgcC7JXmp4noYmU1STPNwkxCgq-KnYo5Pu_k7hyphenhyphenhqqGJjKwzWJqrECvS6nOxaT0qMTN6Ots/s1600/creepy+slithering+ninja+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZEFzMISGe2PCDzekpoLe1UyPcNUIqpv1aEBmyPDGCHcMntK_7nSvPImhfP_JrXDd1gOxpgcC7JXmp4noYmU1STPNwkxCgq-KnYo5Pu_k7hyphenhyphenhqqGJjKwzWJqrECvS6nOxaT0qMTN6Ots/s320/creepy+slithering+ninja+copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqMG4h4dVvaUBsHG-8k4f00p1dx3Ike-e7qeNXDTbMKP8zym3Au5CE3Utf9NxTIxXzafNpmvzmpIR56-gG4xy7n3ch48GY-26i010eu9j67Q7hLNRzGHJsVI7SqwBRUQ8z-Ziwp_XTQnw/s1600/creepy+ninja+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqMG4h4dVvaUBsHG-8k4f00p1dx3Ike-e7qeNXDTbMKP8zym3Au5CE3Utf9NxTIxXzafNpmvzmpIR56-gG4xy7n3ch48GY-26i010eu9j67Q7hLNRzGHJsVI7SqwBRUQ8z-Ziwp_XTQnw/s320/creepy+ninja+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5283410815401198959.post-29744622314784282112011-03-21T19:13:00.000-04:002011-03-21T19:13:56.509-04:00My sister is flying and has just got back to Toronto and needs a ride home. I am texting her as she is still on the plane and needs to wait for all the passengers to get off before she can head home.<br />
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Me: Moooom! Wendy needs a ride!<br />
Mom: Okay, I'll let dad know!! Are you faxing to her right now?<br />
Me: It's texting mom! Not faxing! Faxing works with PAPER.<br />
Mom: Whatever!<br />
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And my mother claims to have been more technologically savvy recently. LIES. <br />
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The funny thing is my mom SHOULD know what faxing means, she was just talking about it with another auntie who wanted to know if we still had a fax machine. Oh, mom.Irenehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02020704716335175772noreply@blogger.com0