Sweet!

I found my favourite poem I've ever written today!

I wrote it in Grade 12, for English. Based on a scene in the book Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. Somewhat a disturbing scene, actually, but it was an awesome book. You should all read it.

Here's my poem:

Four knocks pounding.
A door flies into the room
Like a bat from the fire.
With unsmiling jaws and iron thighs,
They enter.
Icy eyes pierce my soul.
Careless feet march past her body: limp, broken.
Arms like cannons grip me,
Arrest me.
His words resound in my thoughts:
Not me -- an echo -- oh, no, not me.
He, a murderer! I, without a pass,
Trapped in this web of injustice.
Her empty eyes call to me;
There's only one catch.

Now back to studying...

U of M has flooded!

A walk around campus

Frustration

STAT 2000

I failed my statistics exam. I haven't gotten the full mark back, but I did correct my multiple choice questions this morning. I don't want to share my embarassing failure of a mark with everyone on the Internet, so I'll just tell you that it was very, very bad.

So, the mark I got on that part of the exam brought my mark in the class up (down) to 50 per cent. If I can get 10/15 on the long answer, I will pass with a C in the class. I left 3 of the 5 questions blank, so I doubt this will happen.

...which means that I get to take the amazing Stats 2000 again next year. Woo-hoo!

It bothers me because I was doing so well. I had passed Stats 1000 last term with a B+, I was getting A's on most of my assignments for Stats 2000, I got a 75% on the midterm. Then I go and fail the exam. It bothers me.

Summer employment

I'm still trying to figure out a summer job. I am playing phone tag with a company right now that does advertising and graphic design. I would love to work there, or with any graphic design company. See what it's like. Make sure I like it before I go to school for another four year.

It's looking sort of promising, sort of not, but I will know if I have a job by Friday. If not, I'll probably end up giving Wal-mart a call and try to see if they have a job for me this summer. I enjoyed working there, but I'm sort of disappointed that I won't get my design job.

I'm thinking about going to get my Smart Serve (is that what it's called still?) at the college this summer. Do they offer that in the summer? They must. Then I can like, waitress at the Keg or something. Make tips.

FREN 1200

I have a French exam on the 24th. I wasn't scared for it before, but I'm kind of nervous now after my statistics exam. Because when I went into that exam I wasn't nervous at all; I thought I knew everything. So I'm worried I will study my butt off for French and think I know everything and fail that one too.

I know this won't happen, actually. But I'm still a bit worried at the back of my mind. Hopefully, it doesn't turn out that way. I have an A in the class right now and I'd hate to lose that. I need a 78 on the exam, I think, to keep it.

Wish me luck.

Grade B student

I've discovered that university is not harder than high school. That's not why an A-average high school student comes to university to discover she's a pretty consistent B. No, no. It's because in high school, you have crummy little mark-boosting assignments. Your mark can be based on over 30 different assignments, papers, quizzes, tests, etc. That's if you do one thing every week.

In university, your mark is based on like, five things. Or less. I had an essay this term that was worth 35% of my mark. High school essays are worth what, ten? Fifteen? Not 35. Statistics exams are worth fifty percent. That's half. High school exams are worth thirty percent. Because there's more of that little work for you to do as a grade buffer.

In my Statistics courses, you get five assignments that are each worth 3% of your overall mark, a midterm that's worth 35% and a final that's worth 50. So even though I'm getting A's on the course work, I still come out of the class with a B+ because 85% of my mark is exams. Sigh.

Also, I find they mark harder. In religion courses, to get an A, you need an 86%. Ninety-five for an A+. Some departments and faculties are a bit easier, but in comparison to high school, where an A is anything over 80%, it's tough.

So at the end of first term when I got my final grades and they were two B+'s (I only had two courses that were 3 cr.hrs., two classes went all year and I had a spare), I was SO disappointed. I got A+'s in high school.

Now I don't care so much about those letter grades. B is a pretty good mark when you think about it. Plus, I can't change my grades so why waste time worrying about them? And in four years when I'm trying to get a job as a graphic designer, no one's gonna care about my letter grades if I can produce quality work. As long as I get my degree, I will be happy with a B.

Lazy Justine

I've been getting pretty lazy with my posts, guys. I don't mean it, I swear. School is busy and whatnot- trying to work my portfolio to get that in on time. I need nine pieces. I have more than nine total, but I have seven that I would actually want to put in my portfolio. So really I've only got to do two more. I would like to do more. Who knows? Maybe something I do later will be better than one of the seven I have already. Not really sure how it's gonna end up.

I'm excited for Fine Arts though because there are... no final exams! So really, all I would have were exams for any other courses I might take (French, Creative Writing, etc., except there is no exam for Creative Writing either) and that means that I could arrange my classes so that all the elective courses I took (which I actually don't need any more of) that didn't go all year were second term. That way, no exams at Christmastime. Yay!

Going back to an earlier post, I finally got my and Zan's cake to upload! I don't know why it wouldn't let me before, but I've been trying nearly every time I post, and it never ever works. But today, it did. So let's be thankful.

This is our cake. Isn't it beautiful? And yummy?

I thought so.

Anyway, I believe I am going to go finish cleaning my room and try to paint some.

Portfolio update

Here is my newest creation. Hahaha.

Tell me what you think. Any comments would be greatly appreciated.

Privacy

I got my own room next year! Woo-hoo! I'm super excited, as you can tell.

My room will be in University College, which everyone seems to think I got stuck with or something, like no one would want to live there. I don't know. But no, it was my first choice. It's a single room -- which is what I wanted -- and it's cheaper than living in Speechly again. Actually, it's cheaper to get a single room in UC than the double room I've got now.

Plus, I won't have to eat at Pembina Hall all the time. Sweet.

So this is what my room will look like next year:

It is approximately 125 square feet, says the Housing and Student Life website. Which isn't bad, because I measured my double room and it's about 180 square feet. so it's just like, 6 feet shorter (cause my room isn't square) but the width is the same. So I'm happy.

You may notice the small, small window. But that's okay. I don't care. I had a huge window this year, and I didn't really care for it.

Reasons I don't care about having a big window:

• a big window let's more cold in in the winter time
• a big window let's more sunshine in on weekends when I'm trying to sleep
• there is nothing to look at out the window anyway
• a big window means there's more of a chance that someone is looking in

So, I don't really mind having a small window. I like that it is right above the bed, though ... if the diagram is right. The diagram that I looked up online for the double room I have now isn't exactly the same as what my room looks like. Plus, every room is a little different anyway. So it might not be exactly correct, but if it is, I really like the idea of having a little window above my bed.

I am excited.

So I will pay my $500.00 downpayment next week and hope I get into my program.

I don't think I have anything to worry about though. I'm not too worried.

Some things I'd like to do

...in no particular order:

1. Write a song
2. Sell a painting
3. Write a cheque to a children's hospital
4. Go parasailing
5. Dig up a fossil
6. See a comet
7. Go scuba diving
8. Save a life
9. Write a book
10. Get a tattoo
11. Get laser eye surgery
12. Fly a plane
13. See a lion in the wild
14. Catch a firefly
15. Kayak with the dolphins in Hudson Bay
16. Have a conversation with a gorilla (sign language)
17. Ride a unicycle
18. Horseback ride on a beach
19. Climb a palm tree
20. Love my job
21. Buy a house
22. Swim with a dolphin
23. Hold a tarantula
24. Have lunch with a stranger
25. Swim in the ocean
26. Go to a ballet
27. Learn ballroom dancing
28. Play an instrument
29. Drive across Canada
30. See the pyramids
31. Ride on a ferry
32. Walk in the rainforest
33. Get married
34. Have children
35. Have a second honeymoon
36. Have a walk-in closet
37. Have a fireplace in my bedroom
38. Have a bed with a canopy
39. Become physically fit
40. Buy a car
41. Win the lottery
42. Win a contest
43. Be less forgetful
44. Watch a sunrise
45. Watch a sunset
46. Run in a meadow
47. Go on a cruise
48. Join a club
49. Take a gondola ride in Venice
50. See the Eiffel Tower at night
51. Have dinner in Paris
52. See the Sistine Chapel
53. Live to see the discovery of life on another planet
54. Spend a year traveling
55. Travel in Europe
56. See a zebra in the wild
57. Drive a racecar
58. Learn the constellations
59. Have a garden
60. Walk through a hedge maze
61. Walk across a swing bridge
62. Have a salt water aquarium
63. Own a bakery
64. Have a food fight
65. Go to my high school reunion
66. Eat a whole tub of ice cream
67. Have a huge bathtub with stairs leading up to it
68. Make a video diary
69. See New York
70. Go to Disneyland
71. Meet a celebrity
72. Take singing lessons
73. Start a trend
74. Find my passion
75. Teach overseas
76. See wild elephants
77. Buy a one-way ticket
78. Get hypnotized
79. Have fondue
80. Learn to figure skate
81. Try clam chowder
82. Teach someone something
83. Inspire someone
84. Be confident
85. Stay awake for 24 hours
86. Go to Sea World
87. Do something spontaneous
88. Be successful
89. Graduate from University
90. Climb a mountain (that isn't Mt. Mckay)
91. Teach an animal a trick
92. Find buried treasure
93. Find a message in a bottle
94. Send a message in a bottle (or balloon- saw that on Oprah, lol)
95. Stay in bed all day
96. Help a friend through a crisis
97. Create a new dish (ie. food)
98. Follow a tv series
99. Attend a wine-tasting party
100. Invent a new word
101. Have someone look up to me
102. Test drive a vehicle with no intention of buying it
103. Meditate
104. Visit a monastery
105. Take a tour on a double-decker bus
106. Sell something ridiculous on Ebay
107. Find a wallet and return it
108. Have lunch with a homeless person
109. Participate in a pie-eating contest
110. Ride in a hot-air balloon
111. Have a pet hedgehog

...that's all for now. Till tomorrow.

Beating the system

Don't tell anyone, but...

I bought art supplies today and got an $18.00 package of pastels free because the cashier forgot to ring it through!

I would have gone back, I swear, but I got all the way home before I noticed.

Sweet.

On another note, I saw Zodiac Saturday night. It was very scary, especially because I know that it is real. That it actually happened. That the guy was never caught.

I was hoping it wouldn't be a horror movie and would be more of a murder-mystery type movie. It was for the most part, a murder-mystery, but they did show three or four killings. Only two were graphic, and one was quite possibly the most disturbing thing that I've ever seen [the one by the lake, for anyone whose seen it- I won't give away any details for those of you who haven't]. I was eating fudge- Zan and I went skating Saturday afternoon on the river at the Forks- I think it's Red River- and I bought fudge- and when they showed this murder I had to stop eating my fudge. I felt sick. It was morbid/disturbing.

But it was nonetheless a good movie and I think that you should all see it. One of the main suspects in the case was played by the actor who plays Drew Carrey's brother on the Drew Carrey show, so it was sometimes hard to take him seriously, picturing that character and Mimi and everything.

But it was a very good movie and I did enjoy it.

Invisible Girl

I'm sorry!

I know I haven't posted in a very long time, and I'm sorry. I know you have all been sitting on the edges of your chairs, biting at your fingernails, just craving another post from Justine. I'm sorry to let you down; it won't happen again.

Well, it might.

Actually, it might happen right now.

I really don't have much to write about.

My professor did not find my statistics assignment. So what he did to make it "fair" for me, rather than taking off marks that I don't deserve to lose because I handed the assignment in, even if he has no record of that ... What he did was take the three percent that my assignment would have been worth and tack it onto my midterm exam.

So, basically, my assignment didn't count for anything, and instead of being worth 35% like it says in the syllabus, my midterm was worth 38% -- great if I do awesome, not so great if I fail.

So I get to my exam and there are ... only 28 questions. Thirty-eight percent of my mark. Twenty-eight questions. Okay.

Anyway, I ended up getting seven questions wrong, giving me a 75% and losing me 10% of my overall mark.

I later found out that the class average was only 74%, so at least I beat that. I felt better after he told us that.

Oh!

Zan and I baked a cake! From scratch. It was a terrific cake with three layers of vanilla cake with a strawberry-strawberry jam mixture in between each layer. And we whipped the cream ourselves! It was a lovely cake, and I wish I could show you, but Mr. Blogger apparently isn't being nice to me for some reason and he won't let me attach pictures to this post. I will try again tomorrow or something, see if he will let me then.

Other than that, I don't think anything très excitant has happened since my return to the "windy city." That being Winnipeg, not that other windy city.

I want to see The Number 23. I think it will be good. I mean, obviously the whole story, the whole part of the movie that has to do with the number 23, I don't think that will be good. But the movie itself -- as something to entertain me -- and Jim Carrey and his acting and just the fact that it's a scary movie with a trailer that actually looks decent for once ... and Jim Carrey. I think that it will be good, and I don't care what you guys say.

Well, I care what some of you say.

But don't you think it will be good?

I sure hope so. One day when I get some money, I would like to see it.

On a related topic, I may have a summer job. I won't talk too much about that now, because it's not a for sure thing, but it is out there. Oh, it's out there. So wish me luck!

[...Good luck, Justine!]

Hotel adventure

So, my flight back to Winnipeg Sunday at 3:20 was cancelled.

They were transferring all of Air Canada's passengers to Bearskin, but by the time I got to the airport, all the Bearskin seats were full. We had called like an hour and a half before we actually went to the airport -- we were having lunch at the Hoito with Zia Mary and Jeff -- and they told us that there were no Bearskin seats available. But, it turns out that was because Air Canada reserved all of the leftover seats for passengers from my flight that was cancelled. If we had only said that we were from that flight, I would have got a seat.

But, alas, I did not. And all the flights from Thunder Bay to Winnipeg Monday morning were full as well.

They decided they would put me on a plane and fly me to Toronto, give me a hotel room for the night, and then fly me to Winnipeg Monday morning.

So I went to the airport -- my flight left at 6:40 I think -- but my plane was delayed an hour. So I sat there with my dad and Nina and her friend and we had Tim Horton's. I had hot chocolate with whipped cream. I like the Tim Horton's here though, on campus, because they put chocolate shavings on top of the whipped cream when you get a hot chocolate. This one did not.

So I finally made it onto the plane -- we left at about 7:10 -- and we landed in Toronto at 9:00-9:10, about that. I was supposed to go to Customer Service to get a bunch of vouchers: one for the hotel, two for the shuttle bus there and back, and a meal voucher so I could eat. So I went there, and there were about seven or eight people in line. Six computers at the desk. But only two people working. Awesome. And they were taking like 10-15 minutes per person. We probably moved at a rate of one floor tile every half hour. It was terrible.

So I waited in that line for an hour and a half. Finally, I got my vouchers. The Customer Service counter is still on the "secure" side of security, so at this point I hadn't even gone out to get my suitcase. Over an hour after my plane landed.

So I went out and they have three carousels for baggage, and I didn't even know where to look for my suitcase -- the girl at Customer Service told me it should still be on the conveyer -- so I had to wait in another line up (only about five minutes though) to ask the baggage man where my bag is supposed to be. His response: "Shit, you've been here how long?"

He told me Carousel 1 and I went and found my bag. Then I left and went to find something to eat.

But, no one told me that all of the restaurants are on the secure side of security. And the ones that were on the other side were all closed, because at this point it's 11:00 PM.

Then, after I was frustrated about the food and the waiting in line, etc., I got onto an elevator that was going up when I wanted to go down to get to the shuttle buses. At this point I was just so stressed and, I'm not going to lie, I cried a little bit. Dragging my suitcase along. I was tired and hungry and frustrated and I just wanted to go to sleeeeep.

Considering it's now 11:00 and I was supposed to land in Toronto at twenty after eight.

Anyway so I go outside and I wait 30 minutes for this stupid shuttle. The hotel I stayed at is called Four Points Sheraton, I think. Anyway. So I get onto the shuttle bus, and I'm the only one, and the driver tells me how the man who got out of the shuttle bus when I got on had got onto the wrong shuttle bus so she had to drive him back to the airport so he could catch the right one.

What an idiot. Right? Let's continue...

So I get to the hotel. I go to the front desk. I give the man my last name. He looks it up. "Could it be under another name?" No, I say. Air Canada is paying for it. I have a voucher.

"Oh, is it green?" he asks.

It's blue.

There are two Four Points Sheraton hotels in Toronto. The shuttle buses are exactly the same, but they have different addresses written on the side door. Go figure.

So I hop back onto the shuttle bus and go back to the airport. It's 11:45 now.

I find three more estranged people -- one girl had already gone to the wrong hotel. The other two were about to get onto the wrong shuttle but the driver saw their vouchers and said something to them.

So we wait, and we wait.

About 12:05 AM now, on Monday, the correct shuttle arrives. We cram like a good 12 people into the bus, which is just a van with three bench seats. We go to the hotel.

As hectic as my night was, I liked the hotel room. It was nice. I took some pictures.

This was my bed. Mmmmm, comfy.

I got three hours of sleep. I had to be at the airport at 5:30 AM to catch my 6:30 flight to Winnipeg this morning.

They put me in first class! I've never been in first class before. I was excited when they booked my ticket Sunday afternoon but by this hour I was just so tired and so frustrated...

So I slept. I think I was sleeping before take-off. I slept right through the meal. The stewardess came and asked if I would like my meal though, when I woke up... but it was salmon and I said no.

The chairs were pretty nice. I couldn't figure out where people got those tables though -- I eventually found it: they're hidden in the arm. They just fold right on out. They're neat. I liked them.

Anyway, I was happy to get to Winnipeg. I rushed to Stats to hand in my assignment. My prof still hasn't found my first one, so I have to go "chat" with him on Wednesday. Sigh.

Then I wrote a French test that I did pretty decently on, I think.

Now I'm going for lunch.

Can't sleep

As most of you might probably possibly know, this week is Reading Week for me. I'm home. I'm in Thunder Bay. Until Sunday.

I just finished watching How to Deal with my sister. I'd forgotten I'd seen it before. I saw it with Carly in theatres. I think. It was a kind of decent movie -- better than I remembered, anyway.

Bad pre-teen movies really get me going. I get very emotional, philosophical. So, as a result, I am left lying in bed wide awake. Can't sleep.

Some days I wish I could just turn around and become someone else. Not because I don't like who I am, but because I think that maybe I would feel more passion if I was in someone else's place.

Not that I'm not happy, or in love... I am very much both. But ask me the question, "Who are you?" or "What are you like?" and you probably won't get a very meaningful response.

I tell myself I know who I am and I'm not insecure or confused, but a part of me doesn't believe that. A part of me thinks that maybe I just tell myself that I know who I am and that I'm confident and certain because I wish that I was. Or maybe because I've accepted that I don't know who I am, that I have no passion, no dream, no "This is who I am and this is what I believe in and this is what I want to do for the rest of my life," no "I've known since I was a little girl," or "It's a dream I've always had." No "This is an issue that's really important to me," or "I truly believe in this," or "I volunteer in my spare time," or "work to save the sea lions."

Everyone in the movies has a passion. A gift, a talent, a dream, a goal, a purpose. A passion. I don't really know what mine is. Or if I really even have one. How do you know?

Sometimes I just wish I could be somebody new. Or if I couldn't be someone new, change drastically. Wake up one morning, cut my hair, throw away all my old clothes, buy new ones. Create a style. Something that when people see it they'll just nod and say, "That's so Justine." Something unique. Something me.

Something so that when people think of me or talk of me -- assuming anyone does I suppose -- they'll be prompted to say things like, "Wow, Justine's a really good artist," or "Hey, Justine's a great writer," or "Justine's just a really funny girl, always tellin' those jokes." Something. Anything.

The sad part is, I'm not confused. I don't sit here all day wondering who I am or trying to change myself. Ironically, even right now as I sit here typing about how I want to be different, I don't really want to be. I know this is all in the heat of the pre-teen movie drama moment. I don't want to change. I like me, I tell myself.

Yet I still don't know who I am.

I guess the sad part is, then, not that I'm not confused, but that I don't seem to care. I'm happy confused. It doesn't phase me. Doesn't bother me.

Maybe I say I want to change because I want to want to change. I feel like I should be unsatisfied and should want to be different. Maybe I'm just ashamed that I'm not unsatisfied, so I try to cover it up by pretending like I am and want to be different.

Why am I so worried about what everyone thinks?

It's like when I give someone a present and make sure to say, "I don't think you'll like it," even when I know they're gonna like it. Why do I do that? I make up reasons -- you may have heard them. That's not the point. Why do I play mind games with myself, in my own head?

Maybe I'm really sure of myself and happy with who I am, but tell people I'm not sure of myself because I'm worried that if I tell them I'm happy with myself, they'll just be like "Oh, really?" and then go behind my back: "I don't know why that Justine's so sure about herself. What has she got to be satisfied with?"

Maybe it's like that.

I'm sleepy now.

Night world.

Wiarton Willie: Can he be trusted?

Bonjour, tout le monde.

If you haven't already heard, today is Groundhog Day!

I hadn't heard anything all day about what Willie had to say, so I went on a mission and decided to check it out. I Googled everything I could think of and nothing came up. Then, I had a brilliant idea: CBC.ca. "They will have the news," I thought to myself. And off I went...

Little did I know, I would find something bone-chilling about our rodent pal, Mr. Willie.

Let's start at the beginning.

I found the news on this page. "Paws up for spring, groundhogs predict" is the title.

Here are some excerpts that made me chuckle:

• Four out of four groundhogs polled report that spring will come early this year.

• The people of Wiarton insist Willie has been accurate 90 per cent of the time, but scientific studies show groundhogs are actually poor predictors of the weather. They're accurate only 37 per cent of the time, a worse predictor than flipping a coin.

• In Balzac, RCMP had to direct traffic out of the community hall early Friday.
  
  "That's how many people were here to see Balzac Billy jump out of his burrow and not see his shadow," said CBC traffic reporter Angela Knight.
  
  "They have stuffed him back into the burrow for next year."

Also, the photograph of Wiarton Willie is semi-funny as well. The photo is funny, but the fact that he looks absolutely terrified is not. I feel bad for him. Poor Willie.

Anyway, after the good laugh I had, I noticed something shocking in the "Related" column next to the article:

"Wiarton Willie suspected in double murder"

"WHAT!?"

I click on it and wait for the page to load.

Here is the article, word for word, as reported by CBC News on Tuesday, September 23, 2003: [I took the liberty of bolding my favourite lines.]

An official in small-town Ontario is being accused of covering up a murder, but she says she was protecting the town from bad publicity.

Francesca Dobbyn told Wiarton town council on Monday that she knew Wiarton Willie might have killed his two understudies, but hid the facts so the town's summer tourist season wouldn't be hurt.

Wiarton Willie is an albino groundhog that is brought out every Groundhog Day to predict the coming end of winter. He is also the town's mascot and main tourist attraction.

The Wiarton Willie Festival held every February generates about $750,000 for the town. That makes Willie a powerful rodent.

So last May, when two Willies-in-training stopped coming out of the burrow specially built to house the three, Dobbyn, who looks after the animals, kept quiet.

The missing pair were found last week, deep inside the burrow.

Groundhogs are naturally territorial, and some believe Willie eliminated his rivals.

On Monday, town council wanted an explanation. Mayor Carl Noble, however, rejected calls for Dobbyn's resignation.

Can he be trusted? You decide.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PLEASE NOTE: I love Wiarton Willie and all animals. Killing animals is not a joke, nor is it funny. What is funny in this situation is the way that they have reported this terrible incident. Two young groundhogs lost their lives in this tale. Please remember that.

A moment of silence...

That's hot

So I found a whole bunch of tutorials online for Photoshop CS2.

Wait, let's start over.

So, I downloaded Adobe Photoshop CS2 after all the time I spent complaining how much I didn't like it, how different it was, yada-yada-yada.

I like it.

It's SO cool. I like it. I'm sorry I didn't give it a chance before. I don't like change. All I've ever known is Photoshop Elements and I was scared to change.

I'm still trying to figure out some things with CS2, but overall I'm enjoying it.

Anyway, back to my blog:

So I found a whole bunch of tutorials online for Photoshop CS2. I've been trying to learn where things are and what new features they added. I wanted to try to find as many tutorials that I could that only used the tools and filters in Photoshop, cause I'm really not a photographer, and I'd like some digital artwork to put in my portfolio.

Check out what I made:

There are four layers there I believe. I made it using a black background, white text, and filters (I think I used wind, Gaussian blur, and liquify) and I learned how to colorize. Properly. I never really understood it before -- most of what I knew about Photoshop is what I found out on my own, and I guess I haven't played around with enough to find this. Unless this is new to CS2, but somehow I doubt this.

Anyway, I know I probably could have made this in Elements, but that's not the point. The point is, I'd say that I only know how to use the filters independently of one another -- I never really mix them, I just use them to enhance photos. But! I'm learning to make stuff. How awesome is that? I'm learning.

I've never ever really focused on making digital art before. It's always been posters and layouts. And when there was "art" involved, I usually only used the bevels and shadows (see my "He loves me" artwork). So I'm super excited, guys. Super excited.

I've found like a bijillion tutorials too -- they are just like, Quicktime videos so they're easy to follow cause I can pause and see the other person's screen and what they're doing -- so I'm going to try to learn as much as I can from these.

Oh, I hope you see more!

P.S. I also made this little guy using a cloud brush that I made:
I also discovered blending options and masks through this tutorial. I was slightly less impressed with the cloud. It didn't turn out quite right. It wasn't supposed to be this cartoon-y. The fire was much cooler. But it's good to know I can make clouds now, huh?

I am not schizophrenic

Justine Louise Dechaine
1988-2006

I like to believe that a part of you is still with me. And I hope that, to some extent, this is true. You've really taught me a lot about myself (oh, the irony), and it makes me happy just to know that you were with me through everything I've been through. It makes me happy to know that this is who I really was, that in spite of everything, this is how I turned out. It still makes me happy.

Bored on a Monday afternoon, I decided to take a trip down Memory Lane and revisit the "days of old." I went to my old blog. My MSN Messenger/Windows Live blog. Whatever you want to call it. I read every post there.

I cried about a lot of it, but there were a few things that made me laugh. I'm happy about who I was a year or so ago. I'm proud of who I was, the way I wrote and what I wrote, and the thoughts and feelings I had. I didn't think anything of them at the time -- I was just a girl with a blog and a whole lot of heart -- but I'm really proud of everything I wrote there.

For those of you who haven't known me that long or who just haven't cared enough to venture out into the world of MSN Spaces, I'll post this web address.

Here you go.

I'll warn you that my life may not seem as interesting on this website as it was in reality. I'm not giving you this link so that you might be entertained. No.

I actually don't know why I'm giving you this link. I've done so much to get rid of that blog. By which I mean, I started a new one, "a clean slate," to quote my MSN Space.

But do with it what you will. Most of all, enjoy it. Because the girl that wrote these things put a lot of emotion, effort, and, in the end, herself into her words, and I think she had a lot of good ideas and a lot of worthwhile thoughts. I'm proud to say she's a part of me still, and I hope I never lose her. I've been through a lot in my little life, but I've always been that girl. And I hope nothing that I will go through in the future can wash her away.

The text at the beginning of this post -- the words that look like they belong on a headstone: they do not mean that this Justine has died or gone away. She is still very much a part of me.

I just wanted to let her know that I'm proud of her, and that I always knew she could make it. I always had faith in her, deep down inside. Amidst everything that has happened in my life, I guess I never took the time to recognize her or tell her she was doing a good job. Maybe I was a little hard on her or didn't have enough faith at times, but I need her to know that I loved her. I'm happy she's who I am and I hope that she will always be that happy, semi-funny, look-on-the-bright-side girl I know she was.

Here's to another eighteen years of battling enemies and conquering your fears.

Where's my cape?

Little Red Riding Hood

I am taking a Creative Writing course this term. It's similar to the class I took in high school (Writer's Craft). Every week we do a workshop where two people bring in some of their work and everyone else critiques it and gives them feedback.

So tonight I was looking through my computer for things that I've written that I could bring in on my workshop day. I found this "play" I wrote for Writer's Craft. It was an assignment. We all had to write something about Little Red Riding Hood, but we had to be creative about it. We could change all the details we wanted, it could be a narrative, a poem, whatever.

I think mine's a poem truthfully, but because there are different speakers, we'll call it a play.

Here you go! Enjoy.

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Justine's Little Red Riding Hood

Mother:
Go to your grandmother’s house today,

But stay on the path; don’t you stray.

Little Red Riding Hood:
I know, I know; I’ve gone there before.
It’s only a short walk. Ten minutes, no more.

Mother:
Just promise, be careful Red Riding Hood.
Please stay on the path. For once, be good!

Little Red Riding Hood:
I promise you Mother, the safe way I’ll take.
But what am I bringing? Some cookies? A cake?

Mother:
Take this basket of breads and pastries.
Grandma will love it; they sure are tasty!

Narrator:
So Little Red Riding Hood put on her cape
And ran through the forest so she wouldn’t be late.
She ran over hills, through meadows and fields.
She needed to move quickly to bring Grandma her meal.
She ran looking forward, without turning back
Until she felt something tug on her cap.

Wolf:
Where are you going in such a big hurry?
Please, you can tell me. There’s no need to worry.

Little Red Riding Hood:
I’m going to see Grandma; she’s waiting for me.
My mother had told her I’d be there by three.

Wolf:
I know a shortcut to get you there faster!
Maybe you’ll help me find what I’ve been after…

Little Red Riding Hood:
I’m sorry; I’d love to come help with your task,
But I promised my mother I’d stay on the path.

Narrator:
The wolf begged and pleaded, but still she said no.
It didn’t bother the wolf though; he knew where to go.
He ran and he hurried and came to the house,
And while Grandma lay sleeping, snuck in like a mouse.
“I’ll show that girl,” the evil wolf said,
And he gobbled up Grandma, right in her bed.

Little Red Riding Hood:
Grandma, I’m here! It’s me, Riding Hood.
I brought you some baking. It smells really good!

Wolf (disguised as Grandma):
Come here to my bedside. I’m so tired and old.
These pastries are sure to help with my cold.

Little Red Riding Hood:
Oh Grandma! You really have let yourself go!
You’ve changed quite a bit; I thought you should know.
Your eyes are much larger, your mouth is much wider—

Narrator:
And then the old wolf sank his teeth deep inside her.
That mean old wolf gobbled up Red like a dumpling.
Then in came the woodsman who thought he heard something.

Woodsman:
Hello. May I enter? Is anyone here?
I heard screams of terror, and panic, and fear!

Wolf:
Oh, hello kind woodsman! No, no. It’s just me.
I dropped some old dishes while making my tea.

Woodsman:
Did you need any help? Something I could do?
I wouldn’t want to leave such a mess all for you.

Wolf:
No, that’s okay, darling. I’m really alright.
This happens quite often: two, three times a night.

Narrator:
And then from the belly of that awful beast
Arose such a screaming, and it would not cease.
And just as the woodsman had turned ’round to leave,
That nasty, old wolf snatched him back by the sleeve!
He gobbled the woodsman, ate even his hat.
Then the wolf was so full that he needed a nap.
He took off the nightgown and crawled into bed.
Then he fluffed up his pillow and lay down his head.

So there the wolf stayed, his head fills with dreams.
No one heard Grandma’s and Little Red’s screams,
And forever and after, their deaths were a mystery,
A story, a tale: one moment in history.

Second masterpiece

Okay, guys. Portfolio is going very well. I'm excited.

This one is a little abstract. I'm a little disappointed only because on the orange background, all the black lines looked super cool, and my female-statue-thing covered them up. But there was nothing I could do to salvage them, unless I wanted my statue to be tiny and in the corner. I could have, I suppose, moved her over to the right side, but I decided against it; I like her better on the left.

The statue is blue and the highlights, or shadows or whatever you would like to call them, are teal. The top part of the background is black, and the area of the "table" underneath the statue that looks so white in this photograph is light grey, and does not stick out that much from the grey table.

Sorry about the colours on my camera. I don't know why they come out that way. Maybe it's something to do with using no flash. I don't use a flash, obviously, because I don't want it to reflect off the painting.

What do you think?

Should I take out the lines in the center of the statue (the "crotch" area) or leave them in. I'm thinking of taking them out, but I'm really not sure.

I made an enemy today

His name is Statistics.

He stalks me wherever I go.

He wakes me up at 8:00 in the morning on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and laughs at me as I run against the chills of wind to make it to his class on time.

He is always in my head, taunting me, telling me of all the work I've left to do.
He throws down his silly equations and problems only to make a mockery of me, of what I am, and of how little I know.

He gives me assignments with faraway deadlines when he knows that I won't touch them until two nights before.

Then, when I try to solve his problems in advance, he toughens up and tortures me. If I dare surpass his wit and discover an equation that will be helpful, Statistics cruelly tears away the numbers that I need to solve his trials, leaving me with not but a useless equation of z, x-bar, mu-not, sigma, and n.

Statistics haunts me in my nightmares and leaves me tossing and turning with cold sweats and mathematical hot flashes throughout the nights.

You dare taunt me, Statistics? Mock me? Go on. I dare you.

This is war.

I made an enemy today.

Found poetry

Tonight in Creative Writing, we learned about "found poetry," a term that Mr. Power actually taught to us in Grade 12, but my prof today talked about it as well... Except he called it something different. I forget though.

Anyway, we all got a random page (page 155 if you must know) from a book called Caucasia -- I haven't read it -- and were told to make a found poem. Here is what I created:

Oblivious,
a dark silhouette.

Imagine us, our home:
true comfort.

My chin
permanently in this place,
staying still.

Waking up lucid
in that place of timelessness.

A painting faraway
beckoning me.

Yes, punctuation, capitalization, and spacing were added. Here's how to make your own found poetry!

Justine's Super Awesome Guide To Super Awesome Fun Found Poetry

Step One: Take a page out of a book, a page from a newspaper article, etc. Any piece of literature will work. Please photocopy the page if it is not your own copy of the work and/or if you plan to read it ever again.

Step Two: Grab a black marker or a pen or any sort of writing utensil. Even a highlighter will work. Go through and blackout all the words you don't want to use in your poem (or highlight the words you've chosen to use). You probably want to pick out single words or short phrases, and try to space them out a bit so you aren't simply retelling the story you have in front of you.

Step Three: Take those words you've chosen and keeping them in order (this is key), create a wonderful masterpiece of a poem!

Here's an example using a chunk of an essay I wrote last term on Hinduism and rebirth. [The white words are those I've selected to use in my poem]:

Members of all religions have different outlooks on both life and death. There are those that believe in a finite lifetime, that the only time you have is that spent on earth. There are others that believe in an afterlife of heavens and hells where the evil are punished and the good reap rewards. Others believe we are reincarnated at the time of death. In fact, most Eastern religions foster a theory of rebirth. One of the most elaborate doctrines of rebirth can be found in Hinduism.

In order to fully understand the Hindu cycle of life and death, there are several terms with which we must familiarize ourselves. In our exploration we will discuss the concepts of brahman and atman, the cycle of samsara, the law of karma, and the attainment of moksa.

The first thing that we must understand is that, unlike most Western cultures, the Hindu population does not believe in one God who created the universe. Instead, Hindus believe in a concept called brahman. Brahman is not a god, but a reality. More specifically, it is the “unchanging, infinite” reality and the foundation of life (“Brahman”). Brahman is often referred to as the “ultimate reality,” the one truth of the universe (Rice 71).

This was a bad essay to choose, as you can see, but our "found poem" would go something like this:

All the time spent on earth,
Rewards at the time of death,
Elaborate cycle.
Several cultures believe in God.
Who created the universe?
A concept called reality,
the foundation of life,
the one truth.

See! It's easy! And fun! [Okay, so that wasn't the most beautiful poem ever, but you see the point.]

So go find a book that you hate or have no intention of reading and get your money's worth. Make reading fun with found poetry!

Oh God, I need a life.