Sooo I'm proactively beating jet lag to Japan by doing an all-nighter today, in theory so I can sleep half the way to Japan, wake up over the Pacific, and then be perfectly refreshed for dinner. I'd like to think that this is what I've been abstaining from coffee for - so that I can pound back mugs of yin yeung until 7AM while maximizing effect, and minimizing the bit where my heart has a pizza party. Once, I had an extra large coffee from Tim's and felt like I was gonna die for a whole lecture. Another time, I had coffee en route to Kingston, and where I got massage, and couldn't enjoy it properly because of the caffeine. 

Still working on writing chapters 8-9 for beta. This is the bit where I could write good sex scenes. Then I watched this video and realized that the choreography has to mean something in terms of character development. But now it's just... not as nice and fluffy as I thought it was gonna be. Which is fine I guess. But last chapter Shivani said that Az was being sort of harsh in one of his comments and I don't know if she'll like the new power dynamics. 

Deadly sins are supposed to be fun! I would happily lust, wrath, pride, gluttony and greed all goddamn day! Or at least I would, if I weren't so goddamn lazy! But envy? No one enjoys that! It's just a pain in the ass for everyone involved!

-- Todd in the Shadows, "Jealous by Nick Jonas"

So I have decided to indulge in one of my favourites, gluttony, going with Sylvia, all four members of Griffin Engineering, and Mon and I, that being the girl half of Skycom Tower Group. Dan has a midterm on Saturday (???) and was seriously high strung, and Mickey was just not feeling it, I guess.

So we go to Cambridge Mill.

First things first - it's a beautiful restaurant, with seats overlooking what I think is the Grand River. It's really as close to Rivendell as I've ever seen.

Secondly, the drinks. I had the cider sangria (Peach Schnapps, Triple Sec, Dubonnet, West Avenue Dry Heritage Cider, $12). Delicious fruity drink with floating chunks of strawberry.

Thirdly, the food. It was "Shuck a Buck Thursday". Oysters were fine. Not particularly big. $1/oyster is still a good deal. Bread was herby, fluffy, squishy. Big holes. Butter was nice. Also ordered the black cod (Miso-Maple Glaze, Smoky Ham Broth, Bok Choy, Shiitakes, $29). Presentation was soupier and noodlier than I expected but the cod was perfect and buttery and flaky and sweet. Yeah. Also everyone who ordered the truffle fries with their steak had wayyy too many to finish by themselves.

Fourthly, more drinks. I had a Canadian Avalanche (Butterscotch Schnapps, Hot Chocolate, $8). If there's someone you need drunk, that's how you do it - topped with whipped cream and ice cream. Sadly I had extreme difficulty finishing it, delicious as it was. On the other end of the table Dan of Griffin Engineering managed to eat a cabbage roll soup (which is one step away from a casserole), butcher's choice cut (bison) and apple pecan cheesecake. And bread. My gosh.

Overall it was one of the best dining experiences of my life.

Then we go to Heaven Gastroclub at the university plaza.

I order the long island iced tea. It is weirdly medicinal. I swap with Mon's "sex on the sand" (is sex on the beach too mainstream for a gastroclub?) and she makes the weirdest face I've seen on a person since probably 2013.

They've also gone for an interesting take on the "club" part of "gastroclub" through the use of some shitty club music. It's like when you walk into a video game club and the ambient music is pathetically generic and politely volumed, like if the designers have never set foot into a club before and think that's how it should be.

Also deeply unimpressed with the service. Waitress asked Ryan if he wanted another old-fashioned when it was still mostly full - because an untouched old-fashioned still leaves the cup mostly-empty? Then she brought the bills and didn't even ask if we wanted to pay cash. Just clung to them while punching numbers. No wonder the gastroclub is so empty. Any more patrons and the waitress wouldn't be able to even function.

We went to the wings deal at Mortys. Good wings. Except the hot buttery ones. Don't get those, they're gross and sour and bright orange, exemplifying all the worst characteristics of butter chicken. I had two Long Island iced teas. The first one was practically virgin. The second one was weirdly strong. Mon giggled walking home. Her drinks were blue like a photoshopped lagoon in a Carribbean brochure.

Then I got home. Opened up a coco water breezer. Finished the 4-pack. Finished season 1 of Scandal. Oh, my god. People looking at each other! People looking at other people! People yelling at people! But especially people looking at each other! Oh, god, the hands and the arms and the shoulders and the eyes.

( serious navelgazing ahead )

Gotta get up early tomorrow to email and/or long-distance call the prof. I know it doesn't REALLY matter for UW admissions, but I'd prefer to deal with the administrivia now rather than later.

Man I KNEW I should have asked my old boss instead of this prof. 

I can't post the mix I've been compiling for nearly three months. It makes me feel weird. Too many injokes.

Discontent was just a dump of the angriest, most disgruntled songs I had in my library last summer. Coping Mechanism was no doubt inspired by true events, but I let the resemblances settle out and then picked less-intuitive songs for their lyrical rather than sentimental value.

Earlier today, Fallout came up on the radio and I laughed.

--

As a lifetime member of the Anti Douche Tattoo Movement I can't wear this shirt. Furthermore, I can't read it, although it's pretty satisfying in terms of design and irony. In addition, it's in simplified. I guess we know who prevailed in that battle in the 26th century. 

Dammit. More window shopping.

--

The vodka jelly should be sufficiently set soon.

Last night wasn't a total writeoff. It was a lot of fun and proves that anyone called "Sunny" is usually an awesome person. On the other hand, I'm still a little hungover and still resistant to change, and I still hate myself. 

08:04 am

MARIANAS TRENCH

Fallout

Interscope

You-know-who did his physics test hungover and got 99-fucking-percent but this isn't gonna stick like the kinematics equations. "So Vote for Half" was the mnemonic I used. S=So+0/5Vot^2.

And I'm still a selfish asshole. A complete asshole. Shit like that doesn't change. 

Would I have made it home if PIW hadn't bothered to walk me? Unlikely. Thank you for that. 

08:37 am	GUNS N' ROSES		November Rain	Geffen
08:32 am	GOTYE		Somebody That I Used To Know	Fairfax/Republic

Shit rarely ever changes.

Should stop talking now.

edit - HOLY SHIT scratches

Spent work reading Antony and Cleopatra. 

--

I feel weird.

And I guess that's why the counsellor told me to stop thinking about the future - it doesn't lead to anything but crap.

Dammit, I recognize this feeling. A careful, paranoid, intellectual consideration, accompanied by a weird abdominal lurchy feeling. 

--

Had a good time at with Morwaie at Smoke's Poutinerie/ C'est What today. The poutine was difficult to finish because it was huge. I managed to reduce mine to a few curds and a smear of gravy, but Morwaie only managed the top third of hers. 

Then we went to a nearby bar. I consumed a Ricard's Red. She had a screwdriver.

We found the bartender sort of dismissive so we left and went to C'est What, where the first thing she did was order two huggie bears - peppermint schnapps and hot chocolate with whipped cream. Delicious. Followed it up with a bottle of Trois Pistoles, which was really mild and rather tasty. Again, I failed to order a drink suavely, because the beer came in a bottle and therefore didn't require sizes. Oops. Then I had a mental tip calculation failure. 

She told me about the failure of 982 and Kitty. It's not just me that's realized that 982 has gone off the deep end lately, but that was a factor in his breakup a few months ago. 982 and Kitty were really, really cute together, embodying the best of chivalry and kawaii. But he broke up with her because of the religion thing and because he was bored, after about four years.

Now you-know-who*2 are disgustingly cute together, I hear, because he doesn't have to change for her (e.g. get eyebrows plucked, get haircut, diversify portfolio). That's as good a reason as any. 

That thing last night was such a personal failure.

What I remember
Alyssa and I show up but are unable to find the door until Sam arrives, at about 8:15. I have a Guinness. Not much happens until about 9:30. I finish my Guinness, and pour 50/50 gin and pomegranate-blueberry juice. I finish that, and pour a second 50/50 gin and pomegranate-blueberry juice around 11, which I don't finish - one of the few saving graces of the evening. Sometime around here I yell enthusiastically with Lawlz and bond over how whatisname is an idiot, and we grope "I Put On Twenty Pounds"'s 38A chest. After that I realize that I need to get sober fast and lie on the floor of the hallway, where I scream at the ceiling. In order to become sober more quickly I decide it is a good idea to stick my fingers down my throat and vomit in the washroom. The rest of the evening is spent in a talking with 732 on the couch.

On the subway home, the last two people are me and 732, who offered to go to Kennedy with me. 

Damage Control
The current least of my worries with regards to the aftermath is that my left ankle inexplicably hurts, but at least I can still walk.

It's a hideous record... It was such a hugely painful mistake that happened in front of hundreds of thousands of people and continues to happen on a grander and grander scale and just won't go away. It's like getting really drunk at a party and spilling your guts in front of everyone and feeling incredibly great and cathartic about it, and then waking up the next morning and realizing what a complete fool you made of yourself.

I'm going to regret it even more soon, yeah, and nothing will come out of it.

for future reference.

The major criteria are bolded.

0 - sober
1 - feels slight buzz, no significant change in behaviour. 
2 - lowered boundaries, begin to lose feeling in lips.
3 - significant loss of feeling in face, noticeably worsened balance (by self), but still competent.
4 - no longer in control of situation but doesn't care, too friendly, very questionable competency.
5 - 100% loss of emotional control, 50% chance of regurgitation, can still open doors.
6 - significant memory loss, doorknobs are difficult 100% chance of regurgitation.
KO - blackout

Three cups of orange juice, two mugs of oatmeal, one mug tea in the last two hours. Developing headache. Studying for calc is not going well. 

This is pretty sketchy weirdass tea. There is no English on the label. I think it's all in Spanish. It also says "con salvia (herba verbenacea)". It's not the salvia that people smoke, exactly, but kind of disconcerting that I've been drinking it all semester. But it is rather good. Light, fragrant, bit of a salty, spicy aftertaste that lingers. 

One of the two dudes in the apartment sheds more pubes than I would have thought humanly possible. 

If I were ever to time travel back (fic, nc-17) and visit myself when I am now, there would be significant difficulty in thinking of something to prove my own identity to myself. I certainly can't think of any passphrases or knowledge that only I would be privy to. Most things - you could get it from persuasively interviewing the right people, picking up a few files on my hard drive, etc. Suppose that's the downside of documenting everything thoroughly, whether via electronic, paper, or bioelectrochemical means. 

Need fountain pen ink soon again. Can't buy it in Waterloo. Need to wait until next Monday, then drop by Laywines and get a bottle of Watermans, somehow. 

This is a short post but I really need to study and my head is pounding. 

I was asked to post again, although I have nothing to say.

After Tuesday, I better understand why drunk people are such cause for concern. Sure they might feel fine, but they sure don't look it. Apathy towards posture and slight loss of balance mean flopsies on any available surface. Such behaviour in a sober person is already cause for concern.

A few days ago there was a quote -

The amateur pretends to be drunk. The veteran pretends to be sober. 

Or something like that, but it's not really important right now. 

*

Oatmeal For The Damned
Fill half a bowl with flavoured instant oatmeal mix and plain oatmeal mix. Generally I like two instant packets of cinnamon-apple with the same volume of plain oatmeal. Top up with milk leaving about an inch of room at the top.  If no milk, then water, but milk is far superior to water. Also, I prefer my oatmeal extremely thick and lumpy because it's less messy to eat and less likely to spill when I'm taking it out of the microwave. 

Microwave for two to three minutes depending on how big your bowl is. Remove from microwave. Crack an egg or two onto the oatmeal and stir for consistency. The heat of the oatmeal should cook the egg. If it's not sweet enough, add honey. If no honey, add jam. Someone in the house will have jam. If no jam, suck it up and add another flavoured oatmeal packet the next time.

TLDR: Instant oatmeal + plain oatmeal cooked in milk with raw eggs mixed in afterwards. Best oatmeal ever. Covers all the food groups if you use fruit in the flavouring. 

Fake Fried Rice
In a rice cooker pot, rinse rice and add as much water as you normally use. Add frozen peas/carrots/corn/etc until it looks about right, usually not a lot. Slice two sausages or whatever kind of meat happens to be available. Cover with the rice pot lid and cook in the rice cooker as if you didn't just put a lot of other stuff in with the rice.

Let the rice cooker do it's job until it's about three minutes from finishing. Crack two eggs or on top of the rice and cover until the rice cooker is done. If the eggs are still not cooked, let the rice cooker cook them using the "keep warm" function or give up and eat them as-is. 

Take the rice pot out of the rice cooker. Add salt and pepper. Eat with a wooden spoon. 

Technically it's "rice first" fried rice but it might as well be "eggs first" fried rice. Either way, it's not fried, and impossible to screw up.

I Call It Chili
Obtain a medium-sized can of beans. Doesn't matter much as long as it has sauce and is MIXED beans, not all the same type of beans in a can. 

Make rice in a rice cooker. Cook a lump of meat in the cooker at the same time, lid on. I have some leftover frozen onions that I'll be using there next time too to make it more chili-like. Meanwhile, microwave the can of beans in a container that can be used for food storage later, like those pyrex things.

When the rice is done spoon half the beans onto one side of the rice so that half the rice gets sauce. Spoon the remaining rice into the pyrex container with the beans in it. Top both portions with chili flakes. I felt so awesome when I realized I could stretch out a can of beans into two meals.

Macaroni In Rice Cooker
I hope you like your macaroni slightly burned and caramelized. 
Add macaroni to bowl. Add less water than normal because you don't really want to go and drain it later, plus, dry macaroni is infinitely preferable to mushy macaroni. Cook macaroni in rice cooker with the lid off like nothing's wrong. Meanwhile, slice cheese. 

When almost all the water is absorbed into the macaroni, top macaroni with the slices of cheese. When the cooker says it's done the bottom of the macaroni will be a little bit burned but it will still taste ok. Top with chili flakes.

Noodles
As before. Chop a few leaves of napa cabbage and some boilable meat. Like asian fish bar thing or chinese sausage. Boil in water in rice cooker, lid off. Not a lot of water, just enough for the amount of noodles you plan to add. When meat is cooked add noodles and continue cooking. Noodles don't need a lot of time to cook, and they get mushy easily. Add chili flakes.  

*

The open secret is my favourite kind of secret. An open secret is something everybody knows but is never formally acknowledged by the parties who are supposed to be able to formally acknowledge it. Such open secrets include Area 51, the Men In Black, (formerly) the NSA, and the In-and-out Burger off-menu items. I like it because it's decidedly non-tragic, not particularly disappointing, and lacks dramatic irony, because everyone knows what's going on.

*

I really, really like my own breasts. 

*

And I wasn't kidding when I said "We need to talk" is one of the most nauseating phrases in the English language. That phrase fucking terrifies me. Nothing good ever comes out of it. Well, actually it can, but the process is invariably uncomfortable. ALWAYS. 

Also it's the same feeling as when my apartmentmates knock on my room door. I feel like I've done something wrong or am about to be arrested. 

Speaking of the apartment, a guy microwaved a potato and it set off the fire alarm. 

That is all.