There are two ways to school via Braid station from my apartment: the short way, and the long way. The long way takes the roundabout route past the graveyard, and before turning onto 8th Avenue goes down a big hill and turns left past Royal Columbian Hospital (where, on an unrelated tangent, I was actually born). When I have early classes we generally go down the hill right on the tail of the garbage and recycling pickups. The other day, we were going down the hill particularly slowly, and glancing out the window, I noticed that the pickup crews had left a big heap of stuff on one house's curb. As we got closer I saw it was an enormous cardboard box filled with lawn trimmings.
(Aside: New Westminster is a relatively self-contained city, which means that most of the basic services are run by the city as opposed to a private company - including electricity and, importantly, garbage and recycling pickup. So, if you piss off the garbage crews there's not a lot of recourse.)
Anyway. The house was a relatively tidy-looking one, one of the 1860-somethings that's been refurbished, remodelled, etc. Not cheap, I should note. Had a shiny BMW in the driveway (seriously - "shiny" is about all I can tell you about car:prosperity ratios). As we drew closer I saw that there was something written on the box. It said (so far as I could make out): PLZ TAKE THIS BOX IT IS ACTUALY VERY LITE IT HAS BEEN A PAIN IN MY AS FOR A MONTH NOW PLZZZZZZZZ!!
After cringing, I saw a second message scrawled below the first, in noticably tidier writing: LEARN TO SPELL, THEN WE'LL TALK.
Ah, grammatically-conscientious garbage men.
In other news, the entire Lower Mainland is apparently on fire. The weather forecast this morning warned about smoke in the air, and indeed, everywhere I went below 1200 feet above sea level, which is school, I was all chokey from the smoke. *is not fond of smoke, as it irritates asthma, which is bad* Actually it's only Burns Bog which is on fire, which is ironic and also actually worse than just about anything else is on fire, what with it providing a whole lot of our oxygen and doing a lot of useful things to do with filtering groundwater. So. Yeah. This could suck. Apparently they've got it a bit more under control, but ye gods. Smoke. For, like, miles. Visible from the top of the mountain, really. Urk.
Additionally, the Jack FM commercials are reaching a new level of creepy.To the point that I shudder every time I see a print add for the station. I wonder if gut-recoil was what the marketing guys were going for. I doubt it, somehow.
Gods, does every single show on TV use Hallelujah as background music?
Gilmore Girls premiere next. (Also was not overly impressed with Bones, but only saw second half.) I go.
EDIT: Sometimes I really hate Rory. She can be such a whiny little manipulative princess-complex bitch. Gyagh. "Grandpa, let me tap into your guilt over your daughter so I can get what I want and destroy all my mother's hopes and dreams for my future so I can run away from my life and responsibilities like a pussy and hide in the poolhouse with my books, wahhhhh!"
Well, to hell with you, Rory. Your mommy's going to go have twins with Luke to replace you. You are a DUD.
Okay. Show back on.