I have finally landed two jobs at the tiny-town in no-where-land. I work at a vet clinic and a garden/giftshop. The vet clinic is neat, clean and tidy. The garden centre is the absolute opposite. It drives me insane. I feel nice and sane when I am at the clinic for my first half the the day, then I ride my bicycle over to the garden centre and almost rip my hair out from the incredible permanent mess and disorganization. So every day I go from sane to psycho. And it doesn’t help that my roomies (brother and sis-in-law) are slobs. Their house appears clean, but it isn’t. It is just roomy.

Ironically the vet clinic and garden centre are also opposite when it comes to religion. Today the doc’s and techs were talking about how silly religion is and how they used to react to bible thumpers. Then I biked over to the garden centre and had a similar conversation but with a different spin. They were talking about how they haven’t been to church in a while and that it was good to go. Hah! I’m currently reading Counterknowledge by Damien Thompson and absolutly love it. I recommend it to anyone that would like to see through the fog or is tired of listening to baseless and non-scientific theories about deity figures.

This entry shall be a bit of an experiment because I am going to attempt to write about fashion and self development. Both topics of which I usually stumble over. My sense of fashion has had fairly retarded growth compared to other girls. I usually dress in a similar fashion to the generation after me. Hence why I am often mistaken for a kid in grade 12 rather than a university graduate with a degree. I also like to dress differently if possible, so I tended to lean towards fashions that prevented blending in to society such as very mild gothic or army/camoflauge styles. So I was either emo or locked and loaded. Or both. It is clear that I never really wanted to grow up. How many ‘adults’ do you know that look emo or walk around in camo? Exactly.

As of late I have had the urge to buy clothing that either A. makes me look more feminine or B. makes me look older. How this spawned is a mystery to me, but I noticed it hit quite soon after I returned home from my trip to Europe. Perhaps I matured and am now ready to grow up. Whatever the case, the exciting part is that I get to buy more clothes! Holy hell! I never thought I’d be excited about that.

I walked around the mall today to find a pair of pants for work and discovered something new. The “boyfriend fashion” I read about and scoffed at is now at hand! Now I can still be a tomboy but at the same time look grownup and feminine! What a brilliant style. I personally despise clothes that are so tight it hurts (or restricts certain movements). Anyway, the idea is that girls wear stuff they find in their boyfriend’s closet. Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, and hence no closet to pick out of. But still, I am going to enjoy the style, especially as I despised the last few fads that blew through. My biggest problem now is that at the moment I am the most broke I have ever been. Blast!

Another thing I’m interested in are TOMS shoes. They look incredibly comfortable, like crocs, but not so incredibly ugly. “Shop and Give” is the first thing you see on the website. What a brilliant way to hook people that 1. love shoes and/or 2. love to give to causes (like myself). The main idea is that you buy yourself a pair of shoes and the company also gives a pair to a child in need. These will be on my christimas list .

As previously alluded to, I have changed my life-plans for this year. Instead of going to the Caribbean to study the subject of my worship (veterinary medicine), I have moved to a town in the middle of prairie-nowhere to work at minimum-wage jobs for a year. The goal is not to make money, but to change my residency. Yes, thats right! I must be from a specific province in Canada to attend their school. I still can’t get over how stupid that sounds. But to become a Doctor I must show that I can, in fact, jump their hoops – no matter how ridiculous.

There were things that I’d always wanted to be able to do but never had the time. Now I have the time and much less drive to do them. I hate the irony that my life is going through right now. I’ve gone from medical student to absolute nobody. But now this nobody has time to get better at drawing and gardening! Oh the excitement tingles me so!

Anywho, I will be using my excessive free time to blog more and post more pictures of things such as my trip to Europe on flickr (which show up somewhere on my blog page). Hopefully I will find something more interesting to write about besides being a wusspuss about my silly situation.

God, I hate sleepy little towns. Ironically I grew up in one.

Another dream of Europe. Venice this time. Except I thought it was Vienna with lots of water. And everything was in dollers rather than euros and was incredibly expensive.

Somebody once told me that to get over a Love you have to kill The Hope. The Hope is that little spark inside that flares at the thought of getting a text message, call or email from previously mentioned Love. The most efficient method of killing The Hope is to meet a new Distraction soon. Easier said than done, especially when said Distraction lives half a world away.

Random, I know.

Aside from that I have moved from my city in the middle of nowhere to a small town in the middle of nowhere. By living here for a year I will be allowed to apply to a different university to study animal medicine. But for now life is so incredibly boring that I want to vomit.

I have a lock on my bedroom door. Is there a law against that? If so, then why the hell did my parents put a lock on my door when building my room? I don’t understand why, after discovering that my door is locked, my family rants about me locking it.

*Click click* “LEAH!! WHY IS YOUR DOOR LOCKED?”

I’d like to tell them that it is to keep people out, but then they would be insulted. What is the point of having your own bedroom if they don’t expect you to want privacy? My mother insists that I close my blinds when changing but is peeved when she is blocked from barging in the door ay any moment. My sister only knocks AFTER she finds out that the door is locked and then claims that she knocked first and that the door shouldn’t be locked.

On another note… I feel like my awesome future is slipping away due to ….. you guessed it! MONEY! I guess I will just leave saving animals to some other brainiac that lacks a personality and take up professional paintballing. Go to hell University of Saskatchewan, and take your goddammed standards with you. Up yours University of Calgary. And fuck you Canada.

Lately I have been actually having dreams, despite taking melatonin (which efficiently knocks me out for the night). The latest one was reminiscent of my recent backpack trip to Europe. I was in the square of a “suburb” that resembled Amsterdam. The thing that I remember is going back into travel-mode where everything, even the pigeons, are fascinating. I took pictures of the statues and of the apartment buildings. It is such a nice mood to be in that I woke up and was confused when I found myself in Canada.

I used to think that women weren’t really as confusing as common opinion makes them out to be. This conclusion came about because I am a woman and I don’t find my behaviour or reasoning to be particularly erratic or irrational. After having a discussion with my mother on the drive home I would like to take back that idea. Women can be confusing. I don’t understand my mother at all. I would like to know what goes on in her head when she goes from listening to me to mocking me, guilt tripping me and then teasing me. It’s a pattern I see frequently but am always surprised by it as it makes no logical sense. Whatever happened to having a grown-up conversation where both parties actually act their age? I feel like a parent talking to a babbling two-year old sometimes.

There are so few calm people in my world. Heck, up until a few days ago I was the most mellow person I knew!

Aside from my ranting about my family (back to normal eh?) and for those of you that care to know: I am back in my home country, Canada, and will be leaving for vet school located far south at the end of August. I am mostly excited to be finally starting school for the job of my dreams. Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be a veterinarian.