The Line of Room

For most of the day, all I have felt like is writing. Considering how much I was writing a year ago, I'm not writing nearly enough. The amount of essays I wrote I could have compiled a book from 3 semesters of essay writing. I think my last year I totaled some 55 pages each term, or maybe more. I would have to take a look at my saved files. When it comes to full typed pages, that's basically the size of a regular fiction book. If I could type that much in about 6 months -I've excluded the two months set aside for finals since most syllabuses are about 12 weeks- then I'm sure I can write a fiction book. When I decide to make this happen, I'm not so sure.

February is a short month, but it's really long. I can't believe it's Friday tomorrow. It felt like Friday today and I'm sure that tomorrow is going to feel like Tuesday for me. Although, once this weekend ends, the rest of the month is going to fly by. Except at work, this week has been painful. Even I'm bored. Usually I'm wishing people to stop showing up so I can take a break and this week I've been wishing that more people would show up. That's a bit off really.

After this weekend, I'm going to start packing up my life that resides in this one room I've been inhabiting since grade 9. My mother made me wait a year and half before I could move into my sister's room. I think my Mom was always expecting her to come home, and I always knew she wouldn't. I have packed away my childhood and my adolescence already, but now I'm going to pack up my student life and finally be on my own. It feels like February is taking a long time to end, as I write this, it really feels like it's coming up quickly. Right now, it's exciting. Almost exhilarating. The anticipation is suddenly a material thing and not just an idea, a thought or a whim. It's real and it's happening. Pretty quick, my life is going to change. It is actually a big change. I live a spoiled life. I rarely do the dishes. I rarely buy groceries. The only bills I pay are my car loan and my cell phone. I don't do my laundry, but my Mom does do my sister's laundry when we're down at her place. I had originally wrote up, but Wellington's home is south from here, so technically, we drive down to her place and she drives up here. I rarely do any chores or cook a lot of meals. In that perspective, I've been spoiled and I haven't taken it for granted.

I thought the title I picked was suitable for the entire post. The context of 'The Line of Room' is about a man who wanted 4 shots of espresso in a grande cup instead of a venti and asked for a lot of room. I asked him how much room he wanted and he pointed where on the cup was acceptable. Since I wasn't making the americano, I drew out the line. I so cleverly called it the line of room. The amount of room was 1/3 of the cup. Why he wasted all our cream, I don't know. Talk about fatty. He could have at least asked us to steam him some milk to put in the drink and call it a day. Maybe in his eyes, it wouldn't have been an americano, but technically it would have been. The only thing differentiating the damn thing is that there is hot water in it and less milk, so therefore it is not a latte.

I picked up a copy of Shape today at the grocery store. Katharine McPhee is on the cover and her body looks hot. I have an eye for retouching of photos and I know this one has. Both her stomach and legs have been "thinned" and it makes me wonder if her "work-out" will have me looking like her airbushed photo. Most likely not. I do want to add that she should lighten her eyebrows a bit. She looks like she's wearing a wig because her brows are so dark. It just looks too unbalanced. I was thinking that there is some room for me to improve my fitness regimen. Personally I like using the weightlifting machines more than I like all these resistance training toning exercises that I looked at in the mag and on the msn webpage today talking about 4 tips to bikini bod in 4 weeks. It was a bit misleading and not informative enough. Take a look if you like. I'm still going to eat candy.

I was frustrated by some girls I work with today. Sorry I felt like eating salad instead of the lunch special. For one, the chicken is always pink and now that they are no longer real chicken breasts, I no longer enjoy the taste of the "chicken breasts". Secondly I don't think a rack of ribs is a suitable lunch option. I'm surprised by the amount of people who like to eat dinner for lunch. Even when I go out to a restaurant, I rarely order the entrees. I'm more of a pasta or sandwich person myself. Even when I cook for myself, it's never pork chops, chicken breasts, steak or fish. It's a matter of preference. Ever since working at the Wholesale, my view on meat has changed. I've never been a huge meat eater. As a cashier scanning large containers filled with bleeding ground beef, bleeding rounds and bleeding other beef products and all the juices from pork and chicken have really turned me off from enjoying them. The less it looks like it came from an animal, the more I like it, e.g. cold-cuts and hamburgers. When it is just sitting their wrapped in the white styro and plastic wrap, it looks like what it is, a piece of flesh from a living thing. I can't help but feel guilty that I'm eating a life and how readily available these food items are. I have yet to see a shortage on meat products. I just don't want to know.

Someone I thought might be a friend some day has made me change my mind quickly. As much as I like them, I have officially decided that she's untrustworthy. Nothing is worse than my lost of trust in someone who I gave my trust in. There are a lot of girls who's vagina comes before their girlfriends. In some cases that's true. If only girls had mottos like bro's before ho's. I don't know if this is a saying yet, but it could be "sisters' before misters'." Feel free to use it. Yes it's dorky, but it's cute. I had originally typed out what I really felt, but then thought about how easily this blog could be found by this someone who I no longer trust. I said some things like lusty Christian virgins and the whole thing just made me look like some 18 year old. I'm better than that. I'm soon to be 24 and soon to be fully living on my own without roommates or financial assistance. It is unbecoming of a lady to speak so openly as I was about to do without any regard for the consequences. I've learned that lesson, but it was such a long time ago, I had forgotten it. I wouldn't want someone to talk about me in a blog like I was about to, so I won't, even though I really want to and did. Which is just as bad because the intent of the thought is there. How did Buddha resolve this issue? I'm sure even he struggled with it. I guess you really do have to adopt the attitude of "oh well" in order to have no intent of opinion or thought. Clearly, this may take a miracle for this to change about me. Good luck I say. I wonder if I can still reach Moksha as long as I behave appropriately to my darma. I think in the end my karma will get me. That's okay as long as I get to be a tree in a forest that never gets disturbed by human beings.

The line of room for my life to grow has been drawn, now that I'm becoming a young independent woman. Even though there is a line to grow into, there is the line in which I don't want to cross. To be even more metaphorical, that room above the line is for cream and I don't want to be that fatty cream.