Leeuwenhoek had stolen and peeped into the fantastic sub-visible world of little things, creatures that had lived, had bred, had battled, had died, completely hidden from and unknown to all men from the beginning of time. Beasts these were of a kind that ravaged and annihilated whole races of men ten million times larger than they were themselves. Beings these were, more terrible than fire-spitting dragons or hydra-headed monsters. They were silent assassins that murdered babies in warm cradles and kings in sheltered places. It was this invisible, insignificant, but implacable-and sometimes friendly- world Leeuwenhoek had looked into for the first time of all men of all countries. ~Microbe Hunters

Thursday, 29 March 2012

Snakes on a Plane

I haven't done a presentation since high school in which the guidelines aren't outlined so very specifically that you cant go wrong, exhibit:

Med Lab assignment: What are the implications of gram negative bacilli on humans from the beef of slaughter houses in Ontario.
ALS (course short form) assignment: Snakes on a plane.

I haven't gotten to do this in a while, so naturally, I am going to push the boundaries. I am obviously going to be the one going to talk about the poor mice on the plane which has been overrun by snakes. I haven't actually seen the movie nor was this the actual assignment, so I have no idea what I'm talking about. But you get the point, I cant make anything relate to any assignments. In grade 11, for an American History class assignment on the most influential Americans, I chose to do Area 51 and Roswell. That's not a person, but the 'alien' that they found was, and that influenced the media and a lot of people at the time, and still does. I just cant do the cookie-cutter George Washington or Abraham Lincoln thing- its just not me.

Story is: I sent my professor an email with my presentation outline for her opinion on if it was offensive to the Social Science good-for-nothings in my elective class. She took great offence to it, and she called a meeting with me for this afternoon. 

I thought I followed the vague instructions for this presentation assignment to talk about why we took this class, what we thought about it, and what we learned from it. I took it because it was easy, I thought 'ALS' reminded me of progressive neurodegenerative disease of the brain, and I learned that (some) social science students are idiots for copying journals from each other in the easiest course they will ever have in university.

She didn't like that. I even drew pictures.

My prof, Ego Tistic, told me that  my parents raise a rude, ignorant, selfish smart aleck. Well isn't that a kind thing to say to a person who was emailing you before they presented to see if they were being overly-controversial. I refrained from talking in the meeting, because if there's one thing my parents taught me was to think before you talk. I couldn't think properly in order to respond, because she was putting me down so much I couldn't get back up. I am a strong person, but when something so unexpected happens, too much stuff goes through my head and I just have to walk away for a bit to collect my thoughts.

No time to think in university, children. It is the Prof's way, or the highway.

Things Ego Tistic told me:

-If I presented right now, someone might commit suicide (because I called this class easy)
-She was in premed and had all A's (no idea why this came out of her butt)
-I was rude and insensitive to the Social Sciences
-She showed my email/presentation to other faculty members
-I have no right to call her by her first name, Ego (even though she told us to in the first lecture because "it promotes better student-faculty interactions")
-I am disrespectful to my parents and I don't deserve to be in University
-I am never going to get a good-paying job because I don't follow rules
-Her latest book is about me (or going to be, I don't remember)
-She is almighty
-Some students in the class have a higher GPA than me
-It is completely inappropriate to bring Stephen Hawking into this
-I had to redo my draft of my presentation, or she would report me for academic misconduct

Conversation ended: "You should buy my book, you might learn something".

My message to you: you should buy my (Robert Fulghum's) book, "All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten".

Darn good and sure of it,


Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Who is lurking out your window?

Do you have window coverings on all of your windows? If you don’t, I judge you. I judge you on how empty the room looks for the small angle I can see in my quick glance in your direction. I know who you are by the colour of the rooms in your house, and most of all, I can see all the cracks and chipping paint on the window frames and shutters that are being lighted up in a sea of darkness.

Tell me you do the same. I’m not a ‘peeping tom’ and I’m definitely not stalking you, but I glance in your windows when I am walking by. What else is there to look at besides the rest of the darkness? I also judge that half-ass job of strewing that bed sheet crookedly up in attempts to gain some privacy. I don’t know if it is a one-time deal, or this is the permanent living situation, but I give you an A+ for effort.

My windows are always covered. As soon as the level of brightness outside gets even close to the brightness inside, that’s when the drapes are pulled shut. I have no idea who is waking outside and looking in my windows.

When I was younger, my mom and I were at my friend’s house talking with her and her mother about the recent release of Karla Homolka. The nice bay window at the front of their house didn’t have any window coverings on it, and people can see right in as others are looking out.

They told us that she can move anywhere she wants and no one would know. She could be hiding in the bushes and looking in the window right now, and we wouldn’t know. Since then, I have been terrified of who is watching me through my window from the darkness.

Plus, every time I look outside in the dark, I think I see that bald guy staring at me from Fringe.

Darn good and sure of it,


Friday, 23 March 2012

My Pride

I have only one month left of school until I go back cleaning the public washrooms along the beach and living with my parents for 4 months. I have gone 7 months without purchasing any plastic water bottles (though I have woken up some mornings and found that I have been given one by my ever-so-kind roommates after a long night of fun).

Last summer, cleaning toilets in the sweltering sun, I drank a lot of water. I found that I would bring 2 plastic water bottles, and then toss them in the recycling after. Carrying 2 water bottles made my bag heavy, and it was hard to fill up in case I ran out. I made a small investment of about $15 and bought myself a CAMELBAK water bottle. Best decision I ever made. It actually makes drinking water fun, and I found myself using my newly-cleaned washrooms more!

I took my CAMELBAK to school with me in the fall, and as my parents took me out for that first big grocery shop of the year, I declined their insistence on purchasing plastic water bottles. They didn’t think that I could take my reusable water bottle to class with me, or the gym.

I'm proud to say, I still have not bought any plastic water bottles. Actually, on our last trip to America, I talked my sister into buying herself one. We had to make so many more pit stops, but it was so worth it on how much money my mother will be saving on her drink-half-a-bottle-and-poor-the-rest-down-the-drain technique for the plastic water bottles.

My parents still spend lots of money on buying plastic water bottles and it bugs me. I know they don’t have any reusable water bottles in the house right now, but when the cost to safe in your pocketbook and save the planet is only $15, why not get one?

Darn good and sure of it,


Thursday, 22 March 2012

Dean Brody

I really don't know how to express my feelings about country music and their newly-multiplied fan-base at the moment.

It pains me to say, there was a Dean Brody concert on campus last night and every single slut went to it. Every single slut has found country songs in which they can take lyrics and post them as their facebook status, or they relatable songs about their life and what is going on around them. It's not like I blame them; how would anyone 'feel like a plastic bag' (Katy Perry) or be so cocky as to sing about 'this is why I'm hot' (MIMS).

Country music has started down this horrible spiral, as well. Red Solo Cup, seriously, Toby Keith? Horrible.  Horrible is pleasing the sluts Taylor Swift is 'converting' to Country with her Non-Country music. Horrible is making it on the hit radio stations. My pride does not fall with Horrible. Horrible has mad its own class of horrible. This music is 'pushing boundaries' according to some musically educated people, unlike myself. However, I know where I like my boundaries, and I don't like them touched by no one. I especially don't like the boundaries approaching horrible pop/rock/rap.

Country is mine. Country is me growing up. Country is my first day of high school, first kiss, first derby, and the hundred-millionth time of working outside with my dad. Country is everything to me. I love the sound it makes with the twang and hot southern accents. How can something that means so much to me, be shared with the sluts of the world? How can I have something in common with them? I try so hard to be different- to be unique- and this is what I get? A Taylor Swift song that touches the hearts of everyone, and turns them all into plaid-lovers? No one can touch the oldies. No one can make them horrible. Alan Jackson and George Strait have always been some of my heros.

For that reason, I am going back to a better class of loser. That's right Randy Travis. These new songs coming out are nothing like they used to be. I'm going back to my old CDs and playlists where I can be a young, innocent child again ridding in my fathers lap steering the truck, or getting ready for a demolition derby in the driveway. I don't need this new-age country stuff that preaches girls to dance for a  guy on a tractor, I'm going back to reflecting where I was on 9-11.

Keep your eyes and ears peeled for good music, folks. Hard to come by these days!

Gahh nostalgic.

Darn good and sure of it,


Monday, 19 March 2012

Tribute to Mother and Father

I don’t know what I would do without your lessons,
I don’t know what I would do without your love.
Your guidance has lead me further than you know,
All because I missed it.

I’m learning to do things on my own,
I’m thankful for my life experiences.
I feel like you taught me more than my counterparts,
For that, I give you my gratitude.

I keep my room dusted and vacuumed,
My clothes stay folded in their drawers.
No one is here to remind me,
I know to do it on my own.

I have my own place now,
A house I can call my own home.
I have finally found value in everything you told me,
All because I missed it.

I am so grateful for both my parents and everything they have (and haven't) done for me. I see them in what I do and how I live now that I am living on my own. I miss everything they helped me with- changing light bulbs, teaching me about cars and electrical wiring in houses and I wish I could continue to learn more from you. My high-school-educated parents are the wisest, smartest people I have ever known. They have never attempted to teach me about Chemistry or Math, that's what our tax dollars were for. They taught me everything I know that I would never have learned in school. I am so thankful I never have to rely on a guy (or anyone) to change my oil in my car, or to fix a leaky faucet. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for my independence- I appreciate the hard work I complained about when I was younger. I value every minute of it now. I will continue to learn as I am living on my own, and I will do my best to raise your grandchildren like you raised me. I love you.

Darn good and sure of it,


Wednesday, 14 March 2012

5-Star Quality

I was woken up to the beautiful March light streaming into my eyeballs as I was trying to sleep. It was absolutely a gorgeous sight- outside, not me. I just wanted to hop out of my 3-story window and go and play outside with the bugs and newly budding trees, like I would if I was at home, and about 12 years younger.

In reality, I had to shower and head to the library for some lab prep.

I was happy happy about the weather and my life when I went to hop in for a quick shower. I was so happy about the dayI forgot to turn off my alarm…again…bt that’s besides the point of our 5-star shower.

I was showering away, when I noticed my feet were getting a bath at the same time as my hair was being conditioned. In fact, this whole ordeal was up to my ankles.

How great!? A foot bath while I wash the rest of me!

I continued on with my lovely day, and off to the library I went.
This afternoon, I got a message from Krystina, who informed me that our bath tub was clogged.

Clogged!! I Just finished unclogging it last month!

I was dumbfounded! How could it be clogged and me not even know about it?

“Didn’t you shower this morning?”

“Yeah…Oh wait… My feet had a bath, I thought it was giving me the 5-star treatment.”

Darn good and sure of it,



MOV over at mothersofbrothers recently posted about her many identities at Starbucks. Clever. She uses real names like Hannah Marie and stuff to change her identity each time. I wouldn’t understand why, she seems like a nice person, so you would want to give your nice-person face your nice-person name…I would think? Except if you aren’t tipping well… then you want to lose that identity.

I have many names that other people insist on calling me. I cant escape them. I cant change them after I leave because when I come back, the name is back too...

Coleslaw was given to me in high school, and I am still called this by high school friends. It may (or may not be) a clever play on my last name and my lunch of choice of coleslaw at the time. When I hear that name being called from somewhere, I know it is someone from high school.

My ‘hockey name’ is AC. I don’t know why, but my coaches have always needed something quick and easy to yell at me when I don’t listen to them. When they start calling me that, so does the players and the next thing I know, people coming down the aisle in the Wal-mart calling ‘AC! AC!’

My middle name starts with a ‘G’ and when my friends from University couldn’t figure it out, they decided it was going to be Gertrude. They call me Gertrude, or Trudes for short, everywhere. At first I was totally embarrassed of my new name and I felt so bad for anyone with Gertrude as their real name. I’m over it. I’m Trudes.

Before I was Trudes, I was Lyss. That is my ditzy name given to me by my ditzy friends, Krystina and Amelia. Thanks, guys, but I’m glad for your short attention span on that one.

I have actually started using that as a code name too. I have a YouTube channel called AlyGertrude (with one movie), and my twitter is @alygertrude and my google account is alygertrude. It’s fun to have weird names to make a weird identity.

Nicole’s boyfriend, Hulk, calls me Marjory. Weird name? Yep. Apparently my rocking chair in my room and my ‘old lady-ish’ behaviour landed me this old-lady name. I feel bad for when Perogies, Krista’s boyfriend, comes over and he has no clue who they are talking about...ever.

I'm glad all my middle names are derived from my real name. I have no way of escaping this identity of mine, not with any name. I'm glad. I like who I am, and MOV, I like are. Although, I do not know if you are a leaf fan or not, so I don't really know.

I respect how it would be fun to escape normal hectic life for a moment when you announce a pretend name to a stranger at Starbuck, but I would feel guilty. My parents gave me a lovely name. A name that can be played with by so many different people and many different ways.

I have another nick name that just started last week. It is Molly. Like as in Molly Maid. I don’t like it, and it makes me not want to clean up after my roommates. 

I would make a bad secret agent. I would laugh if I said a different name. I bet MOV is a better actor than Kristen Stewart

I guess I am  hypocrite, I do have an altered public perception sometimes. My name isn't actually adot.

Darn good and sure of it,


Tuesday, 13 March 2012

They’re Dropping Like Mice In The Laboratory!

Okay so I don’t actually know if people intentionally kill mice, but I would imagine if they did, there would be bigger riots than those now in Syria. I also don’t play with mice in the lab, I play with Gonorrhoea and Staphylococcus stains and look at what they do to people. That is the life of a future Medical Laboratory Technologist (MLS-Medical Laboratory Scientist for those weirdo Americans who must be different).

How cool is that?

We specialize in Phlebotomy (drawing blood), Clinical Chemistry (biochemistry), Microbiology (bacteria, fungi, etc.), Hematology (blood issues), Transfusion Science (blood banking), and Histology (tissue sampling).

Again, HOW COOL!

Well some people don’t like the ‘I-have-to-be-smarter-than-doctors-in-3-years-of-classes-and-one-year-placement’ pressure, and they drop out of the program. This is the second to only degree program in all of Canada of its kind (and most expensive). In general, we work very hard and we have fun doing it.

There are some interesting characters in the program whom I have given interesting names:

3 Muskrat Ears- derived from 3 musketeers, these 3 girls do everything together- from wearing tight pants that show off their unattractive love handles, to going to Peru in the summer as vegans making the locals cook special for them all while still trying to get a summer job at GM.

Grease Lightning- this young gentleman is so funny, even though he doesn’t try to be. He slicks his black hair back and always wears leather (jacket or pants or shoes).

Black Ruth- This African American girl is the most annoying person you will ever meet. She pulls answers to lab questions out of your mind because she is so annoying you are just focusing on getting her to leave, you don’t care what you tell her.

Dark-as-night- derived from the dark night, a movie which I have not seen. This guy is from Africa, he already has a degree and he is working at the Children's Hospital in Toronto part-time and still going to school. He is the coolest guy, and most sarcastic, and most impromptu guy I have ever met. He is awesome. 

Curry Alejandro- He has a limp, but this limp changes sides on a regular basis. He has such a thick accent that I don’t know what he is saying in English, nor can I depict where his accent is from.

Thomas (the Talk Engine)- This young blonde is the dumbest person you will ever meet. She talks sooooo sloooow that you get side-tracked when she is presenting anything, or just having a conversation with. She is so monotone and boring, that we always joke saying “I think I can, I think I can…” to get her through the sentence.

Afro Man- Dude, this guy...biggest hair of my life! He sits at the front of the class and he is so smart, I don't know how he does it. He talks super quietly, though, so I don't know him well.

2 Cents Hammy- This chick thinks she is so smart because she reads the textbook before class and asks the most stupid questions. She is the most awkward person on the planet and she has some sort of a retainer and she sounds like she is slobbering all over me when she sits behind me.

In Fall of 2010, Medical Laboratory Science started with a total of 40 people. People stop showing up to class, and labs, and midterms, and then it is evident that they have dropped out. Sad. I like some of these people. They are my own family. We are down to 30 people and that is including the people who failed the year before or are stretching their degree out to 5 years.

If the going gets tough, take a step back and make fun of people. It makes everything better. Creativity is key.

Darn good and sure of it,


Am I Boring you?

It appears my very animated, laugh-at-myself funny stories have bored the hell out of my roommates. My mom always says I flail my arms around as if I am ‘swatting away my future bee farm”. Yes, I am going to farm bees when I am old. Not old like 60, old like 30. Sorry, mom, yeah you’re old to me.

I find myself so funny. Is that so weird? I laugh at my own jokes? I laugh at everything, though. Some people think I'm insensitive to the fat guy who can't tie his shoe, but it is just so sad sometimes it is funny. I watched 3 hours of the Bachelor tonight, and I laughed during the entire show. I was laughing at every little thing that happened, but seriously, I could not believe how sad it was that I was wasting 3 hours of my life on this stupid show.

By the way, I think they are perfect for each other, the bachelor and that Courtney chick- they are both douches. Courtney because she is a douche to the other girls and Bachelor boy because he needs a haircut, he’s short, and he didn’t wear a helmet skiing.

Anyways, I know I get side tracked in my stories and don’t get to the point as soon as I could. And I know I sometimes cant remember a word, or I switch words like crackers and carrots in stories by an accident and you no longer know what I am saying. I know I am not the greatest story teller in the world, but lately, I have not gotten to share with the world my thoughts, and I'm sad. All I can do is type these blogs and tell the people who don’t know me how my life is going. 

My blogs, if you haven’t noticed, carry only the general topic of what happened in my day, but instead of making this a diary of my life today, I chose to make it more of a history lesson for my future. You don’t get the full effect of my little stories, or what goes down around here.

Here is what’s happening. Straight up. Amelia is interrupting me every time I open my mouth, and Krystina and her have stopped inviting me out anywhere because "I would never go anyway".

There, I said it. I sit in my room and study on a Saturday night.

I go out sometimes on Thursday night pub nights, but I have work to do. Some University programs should not be offered. Pay the same price as someone who actually has to work and party the whole time? Sounds like first year to me…not third..

Anyway, this is pissing me off, but I have a month and a half until I am outta here!! Living with Jillian and Nicole in a 3 bedroom apartment. Finally, I will be able to shower once a day. Finally I will be able to talk, not just listen. Finally I will be free of this petty, stupid, ditzy drama!

It rained, again, today. I’m just pissy.

Darn good and sure of it,


Sunday, 11 March 2012

New Sidebar!

Hey, guys!

Check it out! I finally posted some of the pictures I had of our mishaps living with 6 girls. Scroll down passed the 'Song of the Moment' section, and check out how bad at life some of my roommates and I are :)

P.S. new red blood cell background!! Me love..

Darn good and sure of it,


Turning Away From Religion

Cautious, serious post ahead...
I thank you for giving your life to our country.

I am very grateful that many years ago, when I was 4 years old, my mother checked the little box on her taxes that supported the Catholic School System. When I was about 9, my mother helped convert an old retired church in my home town into a makeshift church for Wednesday evening services. It relied on the priest from the city close by to come and run the service for local families who are proud to be a part of Timbits hockey games every Sunday morning in the arena down the street. The services went on until I was about 11, when the little church fell through. My mother, and many other parish members, got into an argument with the priest, and many of them fell out of religion.

Being 11 when this happened, I didn’t really have the grounds to continue practising this religion on my own, but in school, we continued to focus on religion. I grew up really not knowing anything different from praying before the school day with the principal over the announcements, and Jonny Appleseed and other lunch time prayers before our meals. I absolutely loved it though. I loved how everyone would be quiet for those few moments, reflecting on who we were as little Christians and how we got to where we were today.

As I grew older, I fell more and more in love with O Canada, which followed the morning prayers. I felt more connected to it, and I began to loath the prayers, as I thought them to be out-dated and repetitious. I thought about how many men and women died for me to be standing in school with my friends around me and food in front of each of us. How did religion get me here?

I looked deeper into the religion I was brought up into, and I found flaws. I grew a love for science and all things nature and proven facts. I became the girl with the uncapped knowledge of all things strange and useless. Everything was useful to me. It proved something- something more than me knowing stuff.

I made plans to join the military so that other kids, like me, could have people always fighting for them, and reminding them that people in the military love them. They are willing to die for me, a child whom they don’t know, and that was what I believed in. I was going to be that. No religion tells you to fight and defend for your country, they say fight for your people. In Canada, there are people from many religions- I didn’t want to leave them behind.

I respect my catholic upbringing, and I feel like it made me more respectful towards other religions. When I stopped associating myself with any religion, I still stood in silence, respecting those who still enjoyed and needed that time to reflect on who they are as Christians. I am still a great person (if I do say so myself) without a religion to be tied to. Religion is not who I am, I am me. I believe in myself, and that is hard enough sometimes. I know I am real, but I can`t speak for the realness of other some of the people on this earth. That being said, I also cant possibly speak for the ones who are no longer with us.

Through religion, I learned who I was. Some people turn to religion to find out who they are, but I did the opposite. I`m quite happy where I am in my life, and I`m glad I understand.

Unfortunately, I have not yet joined the Canadian Forces. I have intentions to, still, but it has not found a way into my twisted little life yet. I know many people in the Military, including my best friend, Sean. Sean is just like me, non-religious, and we grew up in the same elementary school and high school since grade 2. He is the smartest, best guy I have ever met, and I'm so proud to have him fighting for my me and the rest of my country. 

I hope you think of a soldier today, thank them in your mind. You would not be here today if not for their bravery, strength and love for you. I truly believe that. 

Darn good and sure of it,


Saturday, 10 March 2012

The Story of How I Lost the Washing Machine

Another Saturday, everyone is home with stuff to do. Housework has been piling up the past week, and laundry has been put off until all the socks and underwears can no longer be turned inside-out.

Okay, maybe I'm the only one with housework to do- I'm the only one to notice the little army of crumbs trying to take over this place. I also have a tonne of laundry to do today, including my bed sheets and various other items in the house. Unlike Krystina, who on Tuesday put laundry on at 5:20am, I waited until the others were awake before turning on our old, loud washing machine.

Patients and courtesy kicked me in the butt, again.

As an early riser, I like to jump out of bed and get a head start on everything. I hold back on my showers, though, until after 8:30-9am in case my Spider-man shampoo bottle slips out of my hurrying hands, and causes a slight earth tremor and wakes the other 5 devils. Devils is a little harsh, but I feel like they would accept me calling them that, maybe.

As I was just chilling in my room, counting my nice clean toes (nice referring to clean... toes and feet creep me out), I hear a little knock on my door.

Krystina: Hey, do you have any darks? I'm putting a load of laundry on.

Staring at my closet door, trying with my eyes, to keep the clothes from bursting out while she stands next to it.

Me: I have some, but I will just throw them on later. I have enough for a load, thanks.

I've never been one of those snipers. If I was in the military, I would be a bomber- one with huge intentions, and more calculations to control the landing. I would kill more people at one time than a sniper, but the sniper can just get you out of no where.

My military analogy continues as an army of young women, with no clean socks and underwears, must do their washing today- each one claiming they have more than the others. I wonder if I will be able to throw in the place mats, dish towels, hand towels, bath mats and all the rest of the household items no one else wants to put in with their laundry because "it will get their clothes dirty".

I have a suggestion, if you don't want your clothes to get dirty when you are about to wash them, they are not dirty enough to begin with. Save time, save money, and re-wear your clothes! Then, when they are sufficiently dirty, you won't have a problem putting other soiled items in with your load of wash.

I have an adequate amount of socks and underwears for the next little while. I just thought it would be fantastic if, as I was cleaning the house, the little machine in the upstairs washroom closet would be cleaning my clothes. I liked the idea of being helped out, even if it was from a robot from possibly 12 thousand years ago who leaks on the floor every once in a while.

I guess I can be positive about the fact that I don't have to physically wipe their butts. And they now know how to do their own laundry (for the most part).

Darn good and sure of it,


Friday, 9 March 2012

New Years Resolution Reminder

Each of my 6 resolutions has immense deeper meaning. I am posting them today- 69 days after the start of the new year- to remind myself of them. I made them on January 1st on my phone so that I could have them everywhere I go. I forget to read them over, though, and I feel like I am slacking lately. I need a reminder, a boost, if you will, to get me back on track for 2012.

Take more, but nothing for granted:
Don't be so darn kind and brush everything off. Accept money, food and help, because you need it, and you need to stop being so stubborn about 'being even' and stop giving so much when you don't get nearly half back in return. But everything you get, put it to good use, as someone somewhere works very hard to only have half.

Mind toes:
Watch out for other people's toes and be careful not to step on them. Let them learn themselves what needs to be done etc. Also, don't tip toe around feelings of others too much that your own toes get tired. Be spontaneous: don’t let your mind rule your toes all the time, that is a very far distance for things to go wrong.

Fight back:
School is kicking you in the butt, so fight hard to get a good GPA and stay in the program. Also, fight for health, including exercise and eating better- these things will also help you fight of infections better. Don’t fight too hard in favour of your opinions, but stop this push-over thing you have continuously developed.

Idolize amoebas:
Remember you are small in the world, and you cannot change big problems. Slip through situations, and don't let it bother/worry you too much. You have lots of helping hands, like cilia, who are there to help you through sticky situations- you’re not one flagella, pushing life along, alone.

No more Neanderthals: 
Drink civilized and no more getting drunk off shots. Drink responsibly, and no more super parties. You are a lady, not an animal, and you have to regain your status within society again. Especially now that everyone is legal and everyone can be at the bars. Still enjoy nights out, but quality over quantity.

Interact with other members of MedLab and join other groups for projects. Fly solo and don't rely on others. Go out with old friends. Try new things with other people. Don't forget to let others fly as well, even if you are not a part of it. Let them flock together, but be there with your sheltering wings for support and encouragement- even if it is hard to stay around when the weather gets cold.
Let your dreams soar far into the sky. Let them glow there like stars and keep looking back on them. Don't reach for them yet, because they are too far right now. Wait until the time is right to fly to the stars.

Darn good and sure of it,


Stalker award goes to...

This is actually quite a humorous, ironic story.

Sitting in Pathophysiology 2 weeks ago, Krista noticed she was on the background image of some random blonde chick’s computer at the front of the class. Weird, we thought. Then I noticed, I was in it too. Who was this girl and why are we her wallpaper on her computer.

Don’t most blondes put pictures of cute pandas or sunsets on their home screen image? I’m allowed to say that, I’m blonde. This is my home screen image:
Someone's farm.

No sir, no strange people for me. (If this is your farm, I would like to talk to you about selling it to me. I was driving by your house and I liked it, so I took a picture. Is that weird?)

I guess this girl could have a logical explanation for having Krista and I as her home screen image. We couldn’t find one. Instead, we announced to everyone we knew that some chick was creeping us.

Last night we had a few hundred thousand people over to pre-drink and get ready to go out to the bar on campus. Included was one of Krystina’s friends, Cristal. Cristal is blonde and ditzy. Krystina is Asian and ditzy. Tonight was going to be the night they get "white girl wasted" (And continued to sing that even after I informed them of the real colour of Krystina’s skin).

Krystina and Cristal were talking in the kitchen as I was paining my nails a wonderful shade of grey. Despite the objections from everyone that grey is "for dead people", I thought it looked awesome and it was 99 cents at target; something of which I could brag about if someone commented. Always gotta think of conversation starters…


The 2 girls wanted a picture of me cuz I’m so awesome in my gangsta swag in a bright blue over-sized sweater. The picture of us- 2 blondes and an Asian grabbing our crotches and shooting fake guns- looks pretty cool. I really would show you the picture, but Cristal has it, and I really don't know her...

Cristal: Ouu, new background picture on my computer!

(I hope you read that in your ditsiest tone)

Oh, Kay… Some chick I just met idolises my gangstaness AND she wants to put me as her background image instead of cute pandas or sunsets?

Me: So, do you sit at the front of the class in Patho?

Cristal: Uh yeah, why?

Me: Ohhhh my god. Was it you that had Krista and I as part of your last background? OH MY GOSH!! WE THOUGHT YOU WERE SOOOO CREEPY!! We saw us on some blonde chick’s computer screen a few weeks ago!

*que run around like an idiot trying to find Krista to tell her the news*

Turns out, we photo bombed a nursing picture. Props Krista- the way we fly in MedLab.

Anyways, I’m looking forward to Patho tonight, where I will be on the background of some blonde chick’s computer doing my gangsta pose. This time I will know her name, but it doesn’t make it any less creepy.

Darn good and sure of it,


Tuesday, 6 March 2012

It's That Mountain

This post is going along with a theme from The Lightning and the Lightning Bug in which they are challenging people to role play. This is me role playing as my Grandad. My grandparents came to visit me today, right after my other set of grandparents came on Sunday. I could see the differences in how he gets around now, and it made me very sad. I'm very proud of him, though, as he made it up my stairs (something I have been waiting for since the beginning of the year). I cant help but wonder what it would be like if he could come visit me all the time, so that is why I chose to be him in this post. The ending is really just what I wish he would say sometimes, just to know he is still there, and the Parkinson's Disease hasn't taken over his entire body.

Without further adieu, the post:

I grew up a very long time ago, back when we treated a lady right. I married the woman of my dreams and we had 2 wonderfully unique children. We lived up in the Northwest Territories where I taught for 2.5 years, then we moved back to Ottawa where I taught math to special needs students. My 2 children grew up to give us 4 grandchildren whom we, of course, spoil. When they were younger, I would love to take them in the pool, and when they stayed the night at our place for a sleepover, I would make them feel so special that they wouldn’t want to leave the next day. I miss chasing them in the basement, passed all the canning jars and collections of jams and pickled beets. We had to move to a smaller house, but really, I was just excited to be closer to them.

I used to go to their elementary school to pick them up for the day, but get side tracked talking to everyone. Everyone knew me there- students, teachers and principals. They used to ask the children about me, and when the kids would tell me someone asked about me, I would make an excuse to go and talk to them myself. The school would let me go and talk to the grandkids on their recess and bring my new games that I made and share with all their friends.

A few years ago, my daughter moved in with us for a few months while they were trying to find a new house. We found the perfect house. It has an in-law suite, and a huge driveway and property for my grandchildren, now teenagers, to play on. I absolutely love living with them, and I get so much out of it.

Since the Parkinson’s has gotten worse, I have had to rely on them for a lot more. They kindly come and lift me off my floor when I fall because I don’t have the energy to get up on my own. I lost my license and I have to rely on others to drive me to my appointments and exercise class. I’m even more of a mess in the kitchen, but I still bring my wife of 51 years breakfast in bed every morning.

I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has helped me in the past, and who continues to help me. I understand that my pills to control the Parkinson’s Disease have side effects which make me different from the man you could do so much with. I hope you still will always love me, and remember me as the man who used to let you jump on his belly and take you strawberry picking. I don’t want to spoil our awesome memories with me going downhill. I want to work very hard for you guys to show that I am fighting for this too.

Don’t forget, Grandad loves you.

Love you, Grandad


Monday, 5 March 2012

Rrrroll up the win to 'Please Play Again'

It's that time of year, again, folks. Gambling your tuition to 'please play again' every time.

Darn done and sure of it,


Watch out Apple, I`m gonna be the next Cookie

It's official, I am a techy.

All these years in school and I have done pretty good for my myself- finding groups of nerds who still need one more group member. They know their way all around a computer, and YouTube, and Windows Media Maker. I always end up being the one to bring cookies and other store-bought snacks to the group meetings and have all the great ideas that never seemed to end up 'working out'.

For all you non-techies out there, here is some advice from a newly acclaimed (well, I'm claiming) genius:

1.  If you don't know what to do, YouTube it.
2.  If those dumb 'tutorials' that come with the software don't help you, google it.
3.  If you ever have to do a similar project again, you're toast.
4.  Before you become toast, find a friend who knows anything about anything and give them cookies to help you. After all, cookies are, all around, better than toast.

I sincerely hope that helps.

For one of my classes, we had to make a video and put it on YouTube for the rest of the class to see and learn from. We chose to do Communication in Healthcare, specifically prompting techniques in listening (not important). Anyways, the story of why I became the editor.

The convenience of being in a group with my housemates was very enticing. It has been very windy here and I didn't want to be blown away if I stepped outside to join another group. I'm not that inconsiderate that I would limit my group choices because of the weather, after all, they can always come to my house for some almost-fresh cookies. Unfortunately, my expensive high-tech video camera, the same one that still has videos on it from the Olympics, February 2010, was a deciding factor. My group chose me, signed me up, and decided we were using my camera.

Okay, you aren't getting cookies.

I started some of the project on my own, the full extent including the title and what each person's name was going to be in the skits. The entire project would become my slightly hazy, lopsided vision causing me to do more work than Steven Harper has done in his lifetime.

That's what you get for having 'the vision'. That's what they called it anyway. I think it was their excuse to break out the cookies and watch me struggle plugging the camera into the computer.

I will share with you the master piece. I did everything for this project except the voice-music balancing. That's because I didn't know how to, therefore, it remains not done.

Watch out, world, adot is going to be changing her name to some form of `Steve` because all Steve`s are smart- Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawking, my uncle Steve who is in Africa escaping OSAP loans (I presume), Stephen.....Harper (lol). Forget Apple, no one wants fruit, I`m naming my aspiring company Cookies!

Whuud up 2 Harper mentions in one post. Did you forget I was Canadian, eh...

Darn good and sure of it,


Friday, 2 March 2012

Are you Dutch?

I received this email the other day, which I thought to be quite humourous. I am often referred as being ‘ethnically unjust’ and a ‘dumb blonde’. I would like to clarify: I make fun of everyone, not just other backgrounds, but white, English people are easy to pick on too. I can’t be a racist if I hate everyone equally, correct?? Also, about the dumb blonde thing… Okay, all blondes are not dumb, and you are dumb for calling me a dumb blonde. It’s not cool. You’re not funny. Stupid brunettes. And gingers. And black-haired people.

About this email… it is about the Dutch people. Some people (mostly co-workers) look at me, blonde hair and blue eyes, and say, “yep, Dutch”. In fact, I am unfortunately unsure. Part of  me wants to be, so I can be a part of this whole scenario. The other part of me doesn’t really know if I am at least part Dutch.

You see, in grade 7, I was told this story by the infamous Grampa, and the general idea was this:

A long long time ago, my great great grandfather (my Grampa’s Grampa) came to Canada. He was being charged with murder in 3 countries: Netherlands, Germany and England. He stole a cow in the Netherlands, tied his only jacket up underneath of the cows stomach, and rode it all the way through Germany, where he could steal a boat from a dock. He took the little boat, and paddled all the way to Canada, drinking only ocean water, and eating only ‘fresh beef’. When he got to Canada, He arrived in Victoria, BC. Not 24 hours after arriving, a new African American immigrant to Canada tried to pick pocket him. He felt someone trying to steal his only belongings: a pack of cigarettes and a pocket watch, so he shot him in the chest. Fleeing worked the first time, so he gathered his nothingness and walked along the Railroad tracks all the way to New Brunswick where he settled down and had a family, never to be caught by the police.

Yes, there are many MANY geographical and logistical errors in his story, but in grade 7, I was just excited to tell my class how my family came to Canada. I'm surprised I wasn’t kicked out of my Catholic Elementary school for such a story.

Point of story: I don’t really know, to this date, what background (other than East Coastern) my Grampa’s family is from and therefore do not know if I can share in the randomness of the new Netherlands in the following email:

This should be the way for Canada too........Lets see if John Duncan has an answer.
Go Dutch
Go Dutch - but why wait until 2013?
The Netherlands , where six per cent of the population is now Muslim, is scrapping multiculturalism:
The Dutch government says it will abandon the long-standing model of multiculturalism that has encouraged Muslim immigrants to create a parallel society within the Netherlands .
A new integration bill, which Dutch Interior Minister Piet Hein Donner presented to parliament on June 16, reads: "The government shares the social dissatisfaction over the multicultural society model and plans to shift priority to the values of the Dutch people.
In the new integration system, the values of the Dutch society play a central role.

  With this change, the government steps away from the model of a multicultural society.
  The letter continues: "A more obligatory integration is justified because the government also demands that from its own citizens.
  It is necessary because otherwise the society gradually grows apart and eventually no one feels at home anymore in the Netherlands ..
  The new integration policy will place more demands on immigrants. For example, immigrants will be required to learn the Dutch language,
  and the government will take a tougher approach to immigrants who ignore Dutch values or disobey Dutch law.
  The government will also stop offering special subsidies for Muslim immigrants because, according to Donner;
  "It is not the government's job to integrate immigrants." (How bloody true).
  The government will introduce new legislation that outlaws forced marriages and will also impose tougher measures against Muslim immigrants who lower their chances of employment by the way they dress.
  More specifically, the government will impose a ban on face-covering, Islamic burqas as of January 1, 2013.
  Holland has done that whole liberal thing, and realised - maybe too late - that creating a nation of tribes will kill the nation itself.

The future of Australia , the UK and Canada may well be read here.

  READERS NOTE: Muslim immigrants leave their countries of birth because of civil and political unrest "CREATED BY THE VERY NATURE OF THEIR CULTURE."

Countries like Holland Canada the UK and Australia have an established way of life that actually works, so why embrace the unworkable? If Muslims do not wish to accept another culture, the answer is simple;

  This gives a whole new meaning to the term; 'Dutch Courage' - Unfortunately Australian UK and Canadian politicians don't have the ... guts to do the same. There's a whole lot of truth here!!!!

ELECTION 2013 IS COMING A Nation of Sheep, Breeds a Government of Wolves! I'M 100% for PASSING THIS ON!!!
  Let's Take a Stand!!!
  Borders: Closed!
  Language: English only!
  Culture: English Constitution, is the Bill of Rights!
  Drug Free: Mandatory Drug Screening before Welfare!
  NO freebies to: Non-Citizens! We the people are coming!!!

Darn good and sure of it,


Thursday, 1 March 2012

Some things just don't last forever

I am referring to my wonderful room arrangement.

I am not a very good navigator, so my descriptions as to where things are might be confusing...

I use my super-huge-make-me-feel-important desk as a headboard to the very old, squeaky bed that Jillian's kind family gave too poor old me last year. I designed the cupboard-box (designing a box...great achievement) that goes along the wall on the other side of my bed, then spray-painted it black to match my big, important desk. I think it looks cool, but the only thing is, this is the only way my furniture can ever be situated.
Yep, Buzz and Woody guard my bed, and yes, tat is a hippopotamus that my brother got me for christmas. You cannot tell that I have 14 layers of blankets on my bed, though. One is a quilt and another is a douvet, the rest are blankets and one, get this, is a sheet with air planes on it. If you know a little boy, age 5, let me know cuz we can be best friends.

...In case you didnt believe me about the sheets. OH LOOK, a Toy Story pillow case!! I wonder how that got there...

I'm okay with that, though. I'm not "one of those" who weekly must switch it up. In fact, if you move anything in my room, I will most definitely trip over it on my way to the washroom at 4am.

Not only that, but my very narrow, long room doesn't allow for much spontaneity in the furniture category. It took weeks of planning to figure out where I was going to put my little mirror-desk contraption for best spatial arrangement.
My mirror-desk contraption. It is a mirror on top of the desk leaning against the wall. Oh, that Toy Story calendar...I'm holding it for a friend...

And really, how else can I situate my super cute reading area with my super cute old-granny rocking chair. Oh yeah, I painted that black, too, to match my giganto, efficient desk, cupboard-box and tablecloth covered mirror-desk contraption.
My cubby. My love.

The thing is, I have everything in my room perfect right now. Why would I put something somewhere that it is not perfect for? Therefore, why would I ever need to move my room around??

Oh yeah, I'm moving in a month :(

Darn good and sure of it,