Chandri MacLeod (chandri) wrote,
Chandri MacLeod

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Today's page in my planner: "All midterms in Universe."

As I was on the bus this afternoon, on my way to my two o'clock class, I spotted one of the very common (around here, anyway) pink (and sometimes yellow or orange) arrow signs, which point film/TV crews toward on location locations. It read "4400".

Now, I have no idea to what "4400" refers. However, right underneath it on the same post was a home-made sign, orange on white, reading, simply, in all caps, "PWP", with an arrow underneath, pointing in the same direction as the location sign.

My mind went an altogether unlikely and slightly dirty place.

Clearly, I spend too much time on the Internet.

On the way back from class, I saw otters in Brunette Creek. Okay, well, the mouth of Brunette creek, where it lets out into the river. Brunette Creek is that murky, brownish side-channel just past the big red building under the tracks, right before Sapperton.

Otters. In the creek. The really, really polluted creek. This is weird, I thought.

On the other hand, they seemed to be throwing rocks at one another, or... something. Maybe it's just a sign of the Apocalypse. Yes, probably.

That and... oh! Girl on the bus. Wearing scratchy pants. I know this because as she inched past me (me: sitting) down the aisle of the incredibly crowded rush-hour bus, she hit me with her butt. Not brushed, not knocked. Hit. With great force. As if attempting to sit on me. Three times. All the while totally obliviously talking to her Friend-In-Clothes-Three-Sizes-Too-Small. In a bad, unflattering way. And they were high-pitched and obnoxious and possibly high.

On the way down Port Moody Hill, saw eleven consecutive naked Republican Conservative signs. Stripped down to their wiry skeletons like skinned beaver, their once-proud coats in shambles on the ground, like so many discarded grocery bags... *dramatic sigh*

...should not find this amusing. Definitely should not. Is Undemocratic.


Passed fire station also. They have a big sign with an arrow and big coloured blocks that tell you how badly the woods are burning. Current risk of forest fire: Low. Yay! :D

Aaaand... passed the high school (Glen Eagle? Eagle Ridge? Something.) and their big light-board thingy (Light. Board. Overpaid hacks. >.<) informed me cheerfully that the last day of school was June 17th.

Which I ignored completely until a moment later when it occurred to me that that meant that the day after tomorrow, the daytime world will again be full of high school students running amok with nothing to occupy their time, wandering around and mingling with people.

I kid. I love teenagers. The ten or twenty of them that can... like... read and write and hold conversations.

Handed in what should be my last Stupid Form At Dougie: request for transcript at end of semester. Means Dougie should now be getting off its collective ass and sending in the last Stupid Form they owe SFU. Should know about SFU by Friday. Um. *crosses fingers* Stupid stupid papers. >.<

Tomorrow, start looking in earnest for New Place to Live. Have list that is probably mostly out-of-date by now, and one relatively reliable phone number, someplace up near 7th and 8th. Who wants to come hunting with me Saturday?

And now, since I've done midterms, I'll try and start my readings for the next chunk of classes before I get behind. Again.

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