It's Time We Talked....

about finger foods and flowers. First, finger foods.

I think Deviled Eggs are the sexiest finger food, possibly even the sexiest food. First of all, there's the name. Deviled = dangerous, dirty, dead sexy. The Deviled Egg is pretty looking and every cocktail party needs them. By the way, the cocktail party is the sexiest party around. To me, that means that the necessary food at the sexiest of parties is the sexiest food. (One time we had a cocktail party and we hid all the unsexy objects, and made bizarre art out of stools and candles. Sexy. I think it was sexy. Maybe the art wasn't sexy...we did add a large bottle of rum to the punch. But the Deviled Eggs, now they were sexy). I like how finger foods feel festive. Stick a toothpick in a piece of watermelon. And like that you've got party-worthy melon. Love it.

Second, flowers.
Why is a pansy a pansy? Seriously. Why did we start calling wussy boys pansies? I love the pansy. I think they are tied with the sweet pea as being my favorite flower. Simple. Sweet. Perfect. They are the Sandra Dee of flowers. Today I bought a bunch of flowers for my front steps. I love flowers and no one ever buys me any. Now I can sit on my steps and read and look at pretty. I like pretty.
Speaking of pretty.... everyone should listen to Pony Up! They are a wicked awesome girl band from Montreal. I heard them open for Camera Obscura a few years ago. I really liked them, but I never bought an album. I took out "Make Love to the Judges With Your Eyes" from the library and I am so in love. They wore pretty shirt dresses when I saw them. I love shirt dresses.
I am probably going dress shopping tomorrow. I am in E squared's wedding in October and she is being a doll and letting us pick out our dresses. I really wanted to wear white, but she's insisting on fall colors. Hello...Bridezilla?

Love Will Tear Us Apart

I am sad. Living in this world I am surrounded by such pain and brokeness. Working in the inner city, the pain that I see is amplified. After a surprisingly short time, loss becomes somewhat normalized. But today I drove a man to identify his wife who died. They were together and in love for eight years. It was a shitty circumstance. They were stranded in the city together and were seperated for a night and the next day he was informed that she had died. I believe in the good of life. I believe there is a Redeemer for all life, and I believe that I will remain sad for a little while.

Jive Talking

The best moment of today involved a lovely young woman who is very ill with schizophrenia. She is really confused and it's sad to see her so broken and vulnerable. She was doing pseudo-martial arts moves in the middle of the drop in. When I went to go talk to her, she started doing the jive with me. I wanted to participate but I didn't think it was the best move, professionally speaking. She's quite the dancer. Thanks God for my friend. Heal her. Please.

P-O-P-U-L-A-R !

Today I realized that I am really really popular. I've never been popular before. I've been quite unpopular - but never p-o-p-ular. I had to drop off some papers at a client's home early this morning and as I was walking I said hi to almost everyone I passed and almost everyone recognized me and smiled at me and I smiled at them and I loved it. Wanna know the real reason I like working with street people? I like being popular.
A strange boy once told me that he liked that I wasn't a "friend whore". Not quite sure what he meant by that but I think he meant that he appreciated that I don't have a need for a whole lot of friends. I may not be a friend whore, but I am becoming increasingly aware that I am an "emotional slut". I will share whatever with whoever gives me the time of day. My favorite "games" or not games at all but talking times where I get spill out my insides. Thank goodness for the blogosphere. It's nice to have an audience (even if it is small).

A T-Shirt By Any Other Name

I like it when moments from the past pull together for a really great present. On Friday I went to Feist and it was overall a fan-flippin-tastic night. On the way there, I saw a man I used to know who always reminds me of a pirate. Then I saw a man running in his really white loafers. I met white loafer man again at the theatre. Then after Chad VanGaalen played beautifully and without an offensive tirade I saw this guy that sat with me and Jess on our first date. It was at the Powerplant. I think Sarah Slean was playing. The main reason that I remember this boy is that he was just so perfectly nerdy. And he asked if we were going to Snoop Dog. We weren't. He was. I can't believe I let him go...

I was really excited about going to Feist because I was going alone and I haven't been to a show solo for two years. In my memory there are few things greater than enjoying music at a beautiful theatre by myself. Well...I was wrong. It was good but it could have been better. One problem was the man who sat next to me. When he first sat down I thought: wow. that guy smells like a bakery. I didn't think he smelt like a baker because the only baker I've ever hugged smells more like cologne than bread. The bakery thought lasted for about 3o seconds and then I realized he reeked of booze. On my time off I would rather sit by a friend than by random stinky drunk man.


I went to Vermilion again this weekend. It has been my goal to go more often to make my family love me. I think perhaps distance DOES make the heart grow fonder. One of the highlights of the weekend was the part when dad was dressing for church and explaining how you never know if it will be hot or cold in there, and how he was prepared. He pointed out that he was wearing a "sweatshirt" under his sweater. After we pointed out that the "sweatshirt" was actually a t shirt, he explained "that's what I call it". What?

Now I don't want to become one of those people who writes a lot about television...but oh my goodness Pam and Jim! The crew at Seattle Grace! It's just too much to take.
I am going to see Feist in under three hours. Yes!

Here's to Getting Up on a Saturday

This morning I left my house at 7:40 because I needed to drive half way across the city and back before I represented Candeo at a woman's breakfast at the church. I've never really understood the need for ministries specific to women and men - and I was quite sure that I could never fit in at a ladies breakfast. But let me tell ya, I was wrong. I'm not planning on joining the planning committee for the next woman's event, but I likely won't scoff at the next event either. There were a few woman who were very encouraging to me about our vision for Candeo. And it was nice to see all ages of women enjoying each others company. But the thing that really made me embrace the morning was a very funny older woman. I often feel like I'm "faking it". I feel like I present as a punk ass kid. I feel like the insides of me are adult and composed but I am very aware that there's lots between my insides and my outsides. And people don't usually see my insides. My outside indicates that I am a kid with poor vision and a sinus problem that has been miraculously cured by permanently installing an unsightly piece of metal through my left nostril. On the outside I have a misunderstanding of the proper placement of the word like and find most everything to be full of awe (ie. that's, like, awesome). I don't think my outside is going to change anytime soon. But for now and likely for the rest of today (and maybe a little of tomorrow) I'm not going to worry much about my outside. There was this wonderful older woman, a church lady, who was in front of me in the bacon line. She was being very silly and making jokes about the sausage still being alive. I know that silly church ladies DO exist, but I see them so infrequently. I wonder if she worries about her outsides. I hope when I'm a silly older church lady (if I become a silly older church lady) that I will finally get over my outsides and just be happy that I have insides.

I'm watching a Pixies concert from the library and it's good. I recommend everyone takes out music videos from the library. It gives a person less reason to leave the house when you have the option to go to shows at home. Joel Plaskett is playing tonight and I'm not going. I have a film on the Clash that's due back tomorrow. Maybe I'll watch that instead. Maybe I will.

PAM TOLD JIM!!!!

Youpee!

Oops

I forgot a key piece to the last post.
Okay, so I just happened to be strolling 118 avenue on Sunday and there behind me was a man. On a horse. A white horse. And this man was just sitting and smoking and acting oh so casual. But the thing is, he was on a freaking white horse strolling along on the sidewalk on 118 avenue. In Edmonton. On a horse. Ha.

Sunday: A Day in Review (Monday: A Day Made of Poo)

Yesterday I went out for supper to celebrate the birth of my favorite Guetalaman. When I got up from the table, I realized that my leg was asleep. My legs and feet fall asleep on a regular basis, but I've never experienced it like I did yesterday. My leg went wobbly. As I walked, my leg just wouldn't stay straight. I kept on thinking of Katherine O'Hara's character Cookie Guggleman Fleck in "Best in Show". Remember when she sprains her ankle? I am always so annoyed when I watch her walk. I mean, no one ever walks like that. Well, now I know. She sure showed me.
Today I found myself in a peculiar position. Just last week I was at Schock-land sobbing on the big red couch because I just can't take the drop-in portion of my job anymore. I just can't do it. The leering and gross man talk has injured my spirit so terribly I felt that I could never be whole again. Today my new boss told me that she wants me out of the drop-in to lower my level of stress. Wanna know what I said to her? I said...I need to be in there. I told her that it is better for my team of colleagues if I am there to give them more of a break. For the sake of the collective good, I will fight to remain in the drop-in. Funny. Huh?
The time I spent on the couch organically removing my mascara was also spent talking with God. (Yes, THE God). Now, at the risk of sounding like a Christian, God is good! Even when I'm broken into a million pieces, I'm not untouchable. I'm still redeemable. I can still experience healing. God also reminded me that she'll tell me when it's time to move on to another position. For now I still have a stupid amount of peace with where I spend my waking hours. That's why when I was given an out - an out that I've been dreaming of - I found myself forming words that I may curse tomorrow.
I fought for my right to work in the drop-in. Ha.

Yesterday I finally got a joke that I didn't know I didn't get for months. Jess/Andy took a photo of a t shirt when they were in Chile. It's funny now that I get it.

Step Into My Office, Baby

Okay, I am so obviously on a Belle and Sebastian kick these days. You all need to check out the video for Step Into My Office, Baby. It's super sexy and fan-flippin-tastic!

A Saturday in the Life of a Spoiled Brat

I left work early on Friday because I thought that there was a good chance that I would go crazy if I stayed one minute longer. I ended up going to my parents (I wanted to make up for my poor performance over Easter. I was terribly miserable and Mommy called days later to check up on my mental health). I am in Vermilion, and boy what I day I had.
I woke up at 8:00 to get Justin Timberlake tickets. In the old days there were rumours of being able to call a ticketmaster from a different time zone and be able to get tickets a couple hours early. I tried it, but I think they smartened up. The line was automated and shut down my plan. I was up and decided to be helpful and I put a grout sealer on the tiles in the room I was staying in. Then my dad came back from washing my car. (My dad washed my car). Then he vaccuumed the interior and informed me that I had a rotting apple in it. Then he took the floor mats back to the car wash to, you know, get them really clean.
It was 9:55 when I plopped myself back on the computer. I logged into my ticketmaster account and by 10:02 I had purchased 4 tickets to see JT. Oh wow. I am going to feel so old and so happy that night. Then I was reading the paper and I found out that Chad VanGaalen is opening up for Feist. I love CVG but the last time I saw him was at a CD release party at the Sidetrack and he didn't appear to really want to be there and he went on a tirade that was kind of offensive. I hope he wants to be at the Winspear on the 18th. I hope. I hope.
Then I went with my mom to get groceries and I bought some spray paint to paint my table legs that I've been meaning to paint for a year but I've been just too lazy to do. When I got home my dad was all ready to paint them for me, and I let him. I was hanging out so I wouldn't feel like I was taking advantage of him too much and I realized that my hoodie looked a little sparkly from the paint that wafted my way. And then I realized that I also had paint on my glasses. Luckily it came off with soap. When I was in high school, I spray painted a big cardboard roll that once held linoleum. I painted it gold and then put mini lights on it and it felt festive all year round. While I was painting it, I totally got my glasses. I couldn't get it off, so I tried...steel wool. I tried to clean my GLASSES with STEEL WOOL. Fortunately, I still had warranty on my glasses. I sat in the car while my mom brought them in. I was a little on the embarrased side.
Overall, this was a very good Saturday. I am going to see Justin Timberlake and I don't have paint on my glasses. What more could a girl ask for?

Quote of the Day pt. 2

"You look as messed up as I feel"
- annoymous in the drop-in

Super Sleuth

There's a chance that I may be teetering on the edge of stalker-dom. Last night I had a dream about someone I was friends with for about five months. But that was close to ten years ago! I haven't thought of him for ages. He was a TON of fun when I was seventeen. And in the dream we became buddies again, so I decided that I need to find this missing friend. Is he okay? Does he still wear shorts all the time? Why on earth would I dream about this random boy from a decade ago? I'm new to this "finding missing person" thing, and have had little success so far. I did some internet searching, and I'm hoping I have his name right. I managed to re-friend Byron Gravel with my limited sleuthing skills. But what happens if I DO find him? Then what will I do? Hi...uh....you probably don't remember me.....uh..... Stupid dream. Stupid internet. Stupid lunch break.

Woah. After a whole day of wondering how to find old friend, I just remembered that Becky M might know him. Becky M, be expecting an inquiry.

I just came back from our first official Candeo fundraiser (first unofficial fundraiser was a rock show last weekend). Man oh man. I love Candeo and I love people that are interested in Candeo and I love that people are giving their money to Candeo. So, thanks to all that came!
I turned the tv on because I'm not tired enough to go to bed right now and my mind feels a little too foggy to read. And the show that's on is pretty bad and I just saw someone's face being cut with a knife. A surgical knife. A scalpel even. Wow, tv is so awesome.
It's Earth Day tomorrow! Thanks God for giving us the responsibility of taking care of Creation. Help us do a better job. Help us care. Help us take responsibility. Help us hear your voice clearer and louder. Help us take responsibility for what you're telling us to do. Go team go! Aaaaaaaamen!

Did it Hurt...When I Kicked You in the Crotch?

Lately, I've been reflecting on how events in life become normalized. This realization really hit me on Wednesday when I was waiting for a client at an innercity clinic. I was sitting in the waiting room - sitting next to one man and across from a guy with sunglasses. The sunglasses guy asked the man his name and the man responded angrily and aggressively. ("Why are you asking me.... what do you want to know... grrr....."). Sunglasses asked the man what he did. The man told Sunglasses that he was a pastor. Sunglasses asked Pastor if he practiced the Book. Pastor responded: yes. 33 years. The banter continued until Sunglasses turned his attention to me and began flirting. Pastor got all weird and informed Sunglasses that I was an intellectual and that I was not interested. Then Pastor asked me to pick up his plastic bag. I told him it was heavy. Pastor then asked me to go drinking with him. I politely refused. Pastor promptly stormed out of the building. Sunglasses then began telling me that he is waiting to see the doctor because of his sore throat. He apparently got sick because a beautiful woman kept on kissing him. Sunglasses then passed out. I found the whole situation amusing. And very normal. It was a bit strange for me because it was happening outside of my regular work place, but this kind of stuff happens to me on a daily basis. This is my life. THIS IS MY LIFE?!
How is it that this has become my life? While many of my peers spend much time picking up/getting picked up by people they wouldn't get fired for dating, I spend my time telling homeless men/intoxicated men/drug dealers that I am not interested. How is it that the previously mentioned group believe that I am totally their type? Just to clarify. If you are a vegetarian man between the age of 22 and 42 and are not addicted to any chemicals, or solvents, are able to hold down a job, and like Jesus and Creation and rock shows then I may be your type. I know, hearts across the globe are now crushed due to this revealed piece of information. Sorry to disappoint. So very sorry. But seriously. This is my life.

My Body is a Cage

I took my car in for it's one year check up. It's seems like only yesterday it was rolling off the assembly line in Japan! Speaking of rolling off the assembly line, this weekend I ran into a boy from high school and we talked about how next year will be our 10 year reunion. So that means that I have been out of high school for 9 years. That means I only have one year to do something with my life before my lack of doing is made public. I mean more public than this public admission of not doing.
I don't feel like I haven't done things that I wanted to do. But looking at my life, what I have done? I went to school for a long time and accumulated a crazy amount of student loans. I spent some time on a train. I threw some good parties. I learned to drive. I....
I am happy with the way my life is. I have good relationships. I have Jesus. I have a stereo and a library card. I have hope. But my vanity kicks in from time to time and I remember what I look like. I am single. I rent. I work for little money at a job with little prestige. My hair's okay, but could use a little something. I don't even have a pet.
So there's the 10 years in one year thing, and then there's the 27 years in 2 1/2 months thing. I will be 27 soon and I don't have a pet. I have decided that in response to the disappointment my life has become, I will set goals that I will dedicate the next year of my life to accomplish.

Short term goals (to be reached by June 29, 2007)

* I will get my dad to talk about the "massive pythons" coming out of his shirt
* I will finish with the business plan for a certain housing project
* I will cause someone to shoot milk out of their nose
* I will clean up spilled milk because I made someone shoot it out of their nose
* I will relearn the Electric Slide
* I will listen to LeadBelly
* I will convince a particular friend to go a particular clinic to get a particular scab examined

Longer term goals (to be reached before 10 year reunion in 2008)

* I will "unlock my body and move myself to dance" at good friend's wedding
* I will find a husband for Heidi, and convince his hot and nerdy cousin to accompany me to stupid reunion
* I will use some of the denim that I've accumulated to make a "wicked hot" something or other
* I will teach people the Electric Slide at E squared's wedding
* I will overuse the term E squared
* I will go somewhere I've never been
* I will get nice hair
* I will be happy with not doing
* I will be

Lame goals. Lame life. Whatever. Your life is lame too. Look at what you're spending your time on. Let's all feel bad about ourselves. Good idea, Ang. Good idea.

Billy Billy M, Where Are You?

I like this time of year because it's not super cold and it stays light out for longer. I walked home and it was still light out at 8:30!! As I was waiting for the walk light, a big truck drove by. It was, probably like a half ton, and it made my hand vibrate as it sped past. And I thought: Wow. That big half ton (half tonne?) truck sure made my hand vibrate. I also thought: What does the phrase "full of piss and vinegar" mean? So I went home and did a little search and found out that it means: rowdy, boisterous, full of youthful energy. And then I thought: I don't think a truck can be full of youthful energy. And then I thought: I wonder if I'll ever use that phrase? And, you know what? I just did.

I like short work weeks because that means that I'm not at work as much as I usually am. No. I'm not lazy; I just would rather do other things like march around an abandoned hotel three times. Oh yah, I marched around an abandoned hotel three times yesterday with an unnamed friend who lives on my street. It was really fun. I think people that saw us probably thought: Wow. Those girls sure are full of piss and vinegar. One of the tasks we have to do before our next "community meeting" is to get out and walk and pray about an area of the city. This is something that I believe God has been asking me to do for the past two years and I have done very little of. It's surprisingly surprising how fulfilling it is to just do what God asks you to do. Marching around an abandoned building might seem like a better use of time if I was trying to score some crack, but I think just being with the Creator and following Her lead was actually the best use of my time. Why is it these simple lessons that I have learned over and over the lessons that I still need to learn? Maybe it's putting the lessons into practice more than learning the lesson. Right-oh.
It look me about five tries to spell the, I usually type h-t-e. I then I remembered how Douglas Coupland wrote about surveillance technology that could identify people by the way they type. Man, that guy's a genius. Hi Brian. Thanks for reading my blog. xxoxo angie

**Note: this posting is much breezier than the one I just deleted. If you are an avid reader, you may remember a very sad clown and a mention of the ever-miserable Mr. Murray. From now on, it's only rainbows and giggles. Rainbows and giggles.**

Lay An Easter Egg For Me

I am in Vermilion because it's Good Friday, and all the truly good Fridays are spent in Vermilion. Last night on my drive, I saw the moon. And let me tell ya, Jesus laid a big egg in the sky... just for me. It was awesome. The moon was low and giant and orange and oval-esque. And I thanked my Saviour for coming to this earth, showing me how to live, redeming this world - redeeming my life, and laying moon eggs as a reminder of His faithfulness.
My parents are currently arguing about the temperature of the house. It's cold. It's hot. Blah, blah, blah. The boys were asked to "do something" with a window outside. I don't understand the details exactly but I think an explosion may be part of the plan. I'm not totally sure about the inner workings of other families, but I'm pretty sure mine is more exciting than most.

Quote of the Day

"Aaugh...my middle finger hurts. I use it all the time when I drive!"
(Lauryn Thiessen)




This one isn't a quote, but when I was on hold with Alberta Health & Wellness, the song playing was "Only the Good Die Young". Get it?

Spring is Here. Buh Bye Snow. Buh Bye Sadness.

I know that spring is here because my shoes are muddy and Belle and Sebastian sound better than ever. I also feel happy. That is not a new emotion for my life, but over the past few months, it definitely has not been a salient theme. Blah, and grrrrr, and "oh angry crap" are what I am accustomed to. The sun shining and a new position at work are two welcome additions to my life. I've decided that I have clung onto sadness for long enough and I will now identify with health and a love of life. I've thought about making happiness a priority, but as B&S have reminded me, "Happiness is not for keeping/Happiness is not my goal". I'm trying to celebrate the good of life. As I really dig lists these days, here are a few reasons to celebrate this season of life:

1. love. Two people that I love love each other and have just decided to love each other for forever!!!
2. ankle season. I can finally pull out my short pants and skirts and let the ankles enjoy the sun.
3. breakfast. Yesterday after a near panic attack I managed to make my way to R&A's for eggs with friends. Thank you Jesus for friends and food!
4. coffee. It not only tastes good - it's also something to look forward to. And...Jesus really likes hanging out with me on the way to find coffee, during the drinking part, and the reading and writing that often accompany it.
5. watermelon. I love watermelon so much. I usually end up eating too much and then I get a stomach ache. But it's not like the stomach aches that I usually get. It's a stomach ache that goes away. Yessss!!!!
6. the library. Think books. Think music. Think low yearly fee.
7. swimming pools. Actually I think pools are the dirtiest, sickest, "make me touch that water and I'll instantly die or vomit - pick you poison" kinda places. I hate swimming pools - but I love not being around them.
8. walking. Healthy low cost activity. With each footstep I reconnect with creation and the Creator.
9. community. I love and need the community that I have, and I wanna live in intentional community hopefully sooner rather than later (see Confession and Dream for the Good Life). I'm hosting a talk, dream, pray time about community, Thursday March 29th 7:00 pm. Come.
10. dancing. I know I talk about dancing too much, but that's only because I think about it too much. On Friday, I organized a dance party with my colleagues to enjoy our upstairs that will soon be turned into cubicles. I had four lovely ladies join me. It was probably the weirdest thing I've ever done.
11. sleep. When you're sleeping, you're not awake.

Buh bye winter. See you later. Maybe next time we meet I'll have a SAD light. Maybe I'll share it with my friends.

The Wrong Way On a One Way

I almost died tonight. I don't seem to be able to navigate very well in the dark. I was driving home from Taylor and I'm never down in that area and I turned onto 111 street and then I realized that there were cars coming towards me and then I put my trucker mouth on (pretending that I occasionally take said mouth off). Man, oh man. I have one of the worst potty mouths I know. I use fouler than foul language 17 times out of 2o. My goodness.
Well, I didn't die tonight. But I sure felt silly. I think that when I start screening for a husband on the questionnaire portion I will focus on the vehicular aspects of life. Willingness to wash the car, change tires, general maintenance, and basic chauffeur duties. I think my favorite part about the screening process will be the dance off. I'm willing to give points for enthusiasm to those lacking rhythm. I haven't got very far on developing the screening tool. There will be a questionnaire that will cover an overview of daily life: political leanings, engagement in social issues, skills (such as carpentry and car knowledge), and long term goals. There will also be a portion where he will pick a restaurant (keeping in mind my food issues). We will also go shopping (to flesh out dedication to labour standards, etc.). And of course there will be a dance off. That for sure will be my favorite part.

I also want you all to know that I almost got kissed at work yesterday. Two almosts in two days. My goodness.

Rah! Rah! Rah! for The City I Love

So I just found out that people don't like Edmonton. I thought it was just punk-ass kids and the elderly who didn't like it because "it's boring/cold". I decided to compile (an entirely incomplete) list of reasons I love Edmonton.

1. Good places to eat (R & A's Grill, the Sugarbowl, my kitchen)
2. That boy that used to work for Starbucks, that TA, the guy on the bus, the guy getting off the bus. I could go on and on and on...
3. Hawksley Workman comes often and last time he sang "Claire Fontaine" at McDougall United and it was awesome
4. It's the birthplace of Candeo
5. Good people
6. Good dance parties
7. Good dancers
8. Airband parties
9. People that attend airband parties
10. Church picnics. Okay, this one isn't so much about Edmonton or liking picnics. I just remembered something and decided to vent. If you're going to a church picnic and you're going to play frisbee, then leave your shirt on. Okay? Stripping down at the beach is one thing. Stripping down at a picnic put on by the church is, like, a totally different thing.
Let's try #10 again.
10. Great waste management system. Can you say compost??

Edmonton, I love you. Please don't ever leave me. I may leave you one day, but I think it would be better if I rejected you. You know, for the kids.

Whoah....!!!

Sunday, 18 March, 2007

Cancer (21 Jun - 22 Jul)

It may seem hopeless today as you attempt to take care of chores that you have recently ignored. There could be so much to do that you don't even know where to begin. If you are overwhelmed, don't try to do it all; that will only discourage you further. You'll feel better about yourself if you narrow your focus and complete just a few things well.

Know What I Hate?

1. Waiting for the new Wilco album to come out
2. The feeling of guilt that comes from procrastinating and affecting lives other than my own
3. The feeling of "holy crap it's 9:00 and I just watched three episodes of Grey's Anatomy"
4. How lazy I am
5. How I like to do things like blog more than I like to actively engage in "more important" activities
6. How long my fingernails are
7. How my fingernails have been long for so long and how I've chosen to ignore them to this point in time when I now feel that I must cut them IMMEDIATELY or I may just die
8. IBS
9. My hate
10. That effin' eczema on my eyelid. I mean, I think we've all had enough of it