<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:28:37.467-04:00</updated><category term='mun'/><category term='ducks'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>She's not a very good farm wife</title><subtitle type='html'>Countrified country girl. And a bushel of cats.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-6127532618097440977</id><published>2010-10-03T09:02:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T09:02:46.034-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Just in case I forget the meaning of life, or if 42 is not an adequate answer.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'helvetica neue', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"&gt;A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved. - Kurt Vonnegut&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-6127532618097440977?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6127532618097440977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=6127532618097440977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/6127532618097440977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/6127532618097440977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2010/10/just-in-case-i-forget-meaning-of-life.html' title='Just in case I forget the meaning of life, or if 42 is not an adequate answer.'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-8321380262393120397</id><published>2010-06-29T15:18:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T15:18:20.420-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You nosy bugger, leave my computer and my print jobs be, there no business of yours, and I did not request nor do I want your comments on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-8321380262393120397?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/8321380262393120397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=8321380262393120397&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/8321380262393120397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/8321380262393120397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2010/06/you-nosy-bugger-leave-my-computer-and.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-5677570502625502851</id><published>2009-11-09T10:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T10:29:57.276-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When did Christmas gift giving go awry?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Ok, so probably a really long time ago. But the stress!!! And I'm not talking about the stress over what you're going to get other people, since that's a whole abyss of problems, but the dreaded "What do you want for Christmas?"&amp;nbsp;quandary. The pressure to think up something that you want, but something that's appropriately available, priced, and non-personal enough that someone else can get it for you. Now, I'm treading a fine line here on sounding ungrateful, and let me assure you, that's not my sentiment. I appreciate gifts, I so do. Charles and I were gifted with many wonderful things by generous friends pre-during-and post wedding, and I tremendously appreciate the though, monetary value and time that people put into them, including an antique platter with someone else's anniversary inscription and date on it. People who decided to gift us money, also, equally grateful. There's many things that we will be able to do with that money, and hey, you can never go wrong with money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;But when people decide they don't want to give you money, they wish to purchase a gift, only they don't want to be responsible for making the decision on what to buy, that's the crux. So the responsibility is transferred back to you. In a simple and relatively benign comment, like: "What do you want for Christmas? I want to get you something, but you pick it".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; So then we have the dilemma: do we answer honestly, and let the asker know that you genuinely have your eye on a 300$ mixer, that you've planned to set aside your spare change and can money for months until you have enough saved up to splurge and treat yourself to the overpriced but good quality appliance (not likely)? Or do you try and wrack your brains, estimate how much that person might be willing to spend on you for the&amp;nbsp;appropriate holiday, what they might be willing to go and get, whether the sales person would scare them or if their drive might be too far out of their way, or is it appropriate for them to give you as a gift at all, and what did you tell Aunt Betty that she could get you just last week, can't tell them the same thing!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My philosophy was to put it back on the giver, gently, but in a firm manner that puts the decision back into their hands with some inspiration. "Well, you have wonder taste/ a beautifully decorated home/ are so fashionably awesome please think of something that you might like yourself/in your home, and I'm sure it would be a unique treat for us to have." Cause that's how you develop&amp;nbsp;eclectic, and eclectic is lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; But in the case of some, this method of letting them know you have faith in their choice doesn't catch, and they just&amp;nbsp;insistently&amp;nbsp;go on till you break down, frustrated, and they demand you tell them exactly what to buy, and you tell them about the 300$ mixer &amp;nbsp;you've had your eye on.......and then they scoff, and say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"...Well, I'll just give you money toward that I guess........"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-5677570502625502851?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/5677570502625502851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=5677570502625502851&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/5677570502625502851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/5677570502625502851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-did-christmas-gift-giving-go-awry.html' title='When did Christmas gift giving go awry?'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-3848733287409693951</id><published>2009-11-03T10:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T10:30:34.197-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So I did done gone got married....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvA-YLuIOzI/AAAAAAAAAX8/-q6ZAm9zxXw/s1600-h/bride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvA-YLuIOzI/AAAAAAAAAX8/-q6ZAm9zxXw/s320/bride.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it went pretty well, all things considered, there was no bloodshed after all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-3848733287409693951?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3848733287409693951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=3848733287409693951&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/3848733287409693951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/3848733287409693951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-i-did-done-gone-got-married.html' title='So I did done gone got married....'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvA-YLuIOzI/AAAAAAAAAX8/-q6ZAm9zxXw/s72-c/bride.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-6093644326027686141</id><published>2009-09-13T13:35:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T13:37:09.048-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I should blog. I really should. Maybe sometime. Once the dust settles and I'm feeling the capability of writing things down. Perhaps a return to the somewhat witty musings I tried to convey before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-6093644326027686141?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/6093644326027686141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=6093644326027686141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/6093644326027686141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/6093644326027686141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-should-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-3239565494025612439</id><published>2007-01-20T20:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-01-20T20:49:09.302-04:00</updated><title type='text'>As long as it's real</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/RbKz4UHc0UI/AAAAAAAAAAY/9AGcDfJdWvk/s1600-h/IMG_0781.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5022274314525528386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/RbKz4UHc0UI/AAAAAAAAAAY/9AGcDfJdWvk/s320/IMG_0781.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; night, and I'm sitting in surfing and listening to music because I'm a loser and I don't want to risk spending money. I even did laundry. I watched Garden State this morning, at my roommates' repeated and unrelenting demand. It's a good watch, if anyone else out there feels like they're going through a quarter life crisis. Apparently that's now almost as recognized as a midlife crisis, however, when you're in your mid 20's apparently you're not nearly as significant, and therefore, no one really cares. I think the main gist of it is we've spent the past 10-15 years cramming and getting ready for life, and when it hits, we're totally lost and don't really know what to do, other than bury our heads in the sand, or the closest distraction to it. &lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong, I'm more than ready to stop going to school, start working so I can get out of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;stifling&lt;/span&gt; debt I've placed upon myself, and start living my life. Not dreading certain times of the year because tests are coming and term papers are due, that would be nice. I apparently perform quite well under stress, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. I'd like to squeeze some time in there for enjoyment of life. And not feel guilty about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Had a discussion with random stranger #256 at a party last night, and I made the conclusion that I keep putting my life on hold for things. Sometimes they're important things, necessary things that need to be accomplished in order to continue, or at least I think they are. For instance, my whole year up here in NFL. Oh sure, I'm learning lots, but it's just another pause on the way to wherever it is I'm going. I failed in finding myself satisfying and sustaining work in the real world, and found myself wasting time in a few inappropriate and dead end jobs after I graduated. Then random stranger pointed out that really, it's the journey that's what counts, it's the path you choose to get you there that matters. Yes, of course, good point. But what if you aren't really enjoying the journey, or when you take the time to enjoy it, you fall behind? That thought kind of got me down, because lately, the journey hasn't really been that mind expanding, nor have I been getting a great kick out of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know that while I've been here I've tried really hard not to put down any sort of roots. I don't want to invest myself in this place as a long term thing. I've met lovely people, and I'm happy that I've made friends and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;acquaintances&lt;/span&gt; that will stick with me for the rest of my life, or at least I'll stick with them. Attachments to the place itself though, I've &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;steered&lt;/span&gt; clear. I've just missed all my attachments back home. That's pretty bleak when you think of it. I built up a picture wall above my bed, with my favorite pictures from home, and things I've done with friends. I suppose those are my roots here, however shallow the scotch tape lets them spread. I'm not sure what's going to happen next, but I'd really like for the ride to get a lot more enjoyable, and hopefully more exciting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-3239565494025612439?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/3239565494025612439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=3239565494025612439&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/3239565494025612439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/3239565494025612439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2007/01/as-long-as-its-real.html' title='As long as it&apos;s real'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/RbKz4UHc0UI/AAAAAAAAAAY/9AGcDfJdWvk/s72-c/IMG_0781.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-4204491700044782646</id><published>2007-01-04T17:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-01-04T17:24:19.450-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ducks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mun'/><title type='text'>We're back, the term has started anew</title><content type='html'>and they're trying to screw me already. Well, housing is, but I've just sent a carefully worded letter of complaint, which will hopefully be received, considered, determined to be right, problem corrected, and all to be well with the world again. Hopefully. I'll keep ya posted. In the meantime, I found a good dollar store, and loaded up on bagfulls of school and apartment stuff for the low low price of 9.98. I love you dollaramma. You're a savior in a quagmire of money grabbers, and are to be commended. Such simple things can make me happy. That, and little quacking ducks milling about my feet, all excited that the snow has melted and they can eat the grass again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-4204491700044782646?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4204491700044782646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=4204491700044782646&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/4204491700044782646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/4204491700044782646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2007/01/were-back-term-has-started-anew.html' title='We&apos;re back, the term has started anew'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-7488190383358767423</id><published>2006-12-24T19:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T19:46:21.221-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas, or whatever you might celebrate, wherever you are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-7488190383358767423?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/7488190383358767423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=7488190383358767423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/7488190383358767423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/7488190383358767423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-4246349550921215430</id><published>2006-12-10T16:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T16:26:40.991-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Finals rush</title><content type='html'>It's that time of year. And in fact, it's been years since I've done this. Aside from the marine biology final I had last year, it's been quite a long time since I've done finals, let alone 5 science and math ones in a row. Well, that's a lie, the math one was a take home, and it was passed in thursday. So now, four finals, then I'm home free. Unfortunately, I spent the better part of the weekend and friday working on getting all the utter crap that I had due in. Yeah, some of it, like the lab reports, were months late, and some of it, like the last few chem lab reports, were just horribly done pieces of crap that would make the most understanding proff shake their head. Since I spent the weekend on that, I have no mind to study for my exams. Which is sad. Which is why I'm blogging. My remote sensing final is tomorrow morning, and the panic hasn't set in. And it's hard stuff. Like, why am I learning this, I have no desire to know this much about panchromatic sensors and along track, push broom satellite scanners. Why am I taking this program again? PEI in one week, god I hope I can make it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-4246349550921215430?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/4246349550921215430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=4246349550921215430&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/4246349550921215430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/4246349550921215430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/12/finals-rush.html' title='Finals rush'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116467426583018636</id><published>2006-11-27T20:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T20:37:46.090-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ford Prefect would recommend a towel.</title><content type='html'>In these quiet times, before the exams, when everything is due and I have so much stuff that I need to get done it's laughable that I'm sitting here writting on a blog, I feel that I maybe shouldn't put myself in these rather stressfull situations. See, I don't fare well under stress. I usually get the job done, but I really don't want to be doing it, I don't see any profit in finishing it, and I really learn very little or get very little out of it all. Really, I'd much rather be fishing. I'd get a lot more out of it generally.&lt;br /&gt;I also feel like my life occasionally reads like a Douglas Adams book. You know, the later ones, that rarely make sense. It's just my inner dialog as I go about my day, not the actual events that seem to sound that way. My thoughts just seem to fly off in completely random directions. Like when I spent 5 minutes walking around my apartment with a toothbrush in hand because my first thought was that if I brushed my teeth, that would be productive. Well, eventually I did brush my teeth, and used mouth rince, then washed my face again, and now I'm blogging. Not really all that productive I s'pose. Ah well, there's always tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. Praise the fuzzy little jebus! the Stats proff forgot that she promised us another assignment, and we still have a few days to pass in the already week late one! Fabu!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116467426583018636?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116467426583018636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116467426583018636&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116467426583018636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116467426583018636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/11/ford-prefect-would-recommend-towel.html' title='Ford Prefect would recommend a towel.'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116431592307397386</id><published>2006-11-23T16:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T17:05:23.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More dinner time entertainment</title><content type='html'>I started to be slightly urked when she was standing in the kitchen bitching about how little counterspace we have, how disssscccuussting(!) everything in this place was, and what fucking pigs we are (we being the other three girls who live here). She must either feel that my open door is actually a soundproof barrier, or she's just hoping that one day I'll acknowledge her presence and come out and hand her ass to her on one of her dinner plates that we are not allowed to touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will give her this, Burton's Pond is a 30+ year old dive in general, but I'd be happy to help her move out if she wished to do so, since there's a huge waiting list to get in here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I stopped being urked as the conversation proceeded and her mood swings became completly erratic and shifted every 20 seconds or so. From bitching about the tablecloth moving on the table (oh no's!), to telling her boyfriend what she wanted to get him for christmas, to her getting pissed because he wasn't estatic that she wanted to get him a dress shirt, to talking about cute fuzzy puppies, to telling him off for putting a glass down on the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, I've just been laughing ever since she yelled about the tablecloth. There's no way I'm going to waste time and energy being pissed about this girl, her issues in life are far too petty. I think her insides must be pickled and green just from being so angry all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does make for great entertainment though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116431592307397386?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116431592307397386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116431592307397386&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116431592307397386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116431592307397386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/11/more-dinner-time-entertainment.html' title='More dinner time entertainment'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116399327399079158</id><published>2006-11-19T23:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T23:27:54.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Kiwi&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://youtube.com/v/gzicZPnd6kU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://youtube.com/v/gzicZPnd6kU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br&gt;I don't know why I love this so much. It makes me smile and cry at the same time. Little Kiwi with big dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116399327399079158?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116399327399079158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116399327399079158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116399327399079158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116399327399079158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/11/kiwi-i-dont-know-why-i-love-this-so.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116386662532618749</id><published>2006-11-18T12:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T12:17:05.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness is...</title><content type='html'>Happiness is taking a walk in the woods and finding the mitt you lost there a week or two ago. Really, just finding missing mitts does wonders for the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116386662532618749?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116386662532618749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116386662532618749&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116386662532618749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116386662532618749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/11/happiness-is.html' title='Happiness is...'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116371245287797919</id><published>2006-11-16T17:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-16T17:27:32.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinner dialog</title><content type='html'>Steve*, what are you doing?&lt;br /&gt;Steve, come out here.&lt;br /&gt;Come sit out here, get out here.&lt;br /&gt;What are you doing in there, come sit out here while I make dinner.&lt;br /&gt;Come here! I hate you.&lt;br /&gt;Get out here!&lt;br /&gt;Why do you have to be such a fucker?&lt;br /&gt;Stop it and come out here, you could at least talk to me for 5 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Don't stand there, sit down.&lt;br /&gt;Don't touch that!&lt;br /&gt;Leave that mushroom alone. Yes, I know it's an onion.&lt;br /&gt;Shut up! God!&lt;br /&gt;That's stupid.&lt;br /&gt;Why are you being so stupid?!&lt;br /&gt;Why do you do this to me?&lt;br /&gt;Stop, turn that off, put something different on.&lt;br /&gt;There is more to life than TSN.&lt;br /&gt;If you want to date TSN, go date TSN.&lt;br /&gt;I can't take it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Why won't you talk to me?&lt;br /&gt;Is that why you have the tv on, so you won't have to talk to me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Names have been changed to protect the poor bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes ladies and gentlemen, she's a real charmer. And no, the tone wasn't joking. Yes, perhaps it's rude of me to listen to  this conversation, but as it's happening directly in front of my wide open door where I can be seen, I felt the need to document this as it was going on, since it was just so hard to believe those were the words being said. Not to tell imply how I think they should treat others, but that's got to be demoralizing. Sad. Makes me want to be nicer to every person I see in the run of a day. Some good comes of it I guess.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116371245287797919?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116371245287797919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116371245287797919&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116371245287797919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116371245287797919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/11/dinner-dialog_16.html' title='Dinner dialog'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116328048253876441</id><published>2006-11-11T17:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-11T17:28:02.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I went walking in the woods today, and I found a fish.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2377/56/1600/IMG_0725.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2377/56/320/IMG_0725.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was a neat little bridge insert that was over a tributary to Long pond. I decided to take myself for a walk today, since it was saturday, and it's been a very long week. It was a lovely walk, but I unfortunately lost a mitten. I backtracked twice (it turned into a very long walk), but I never found it. I figure one of the other walkers must have found it and picked it up. I'm not sure why, but for whatever reason they did. Could also have been a small child or a dog, there were quite a few of those along the stretch that I lost it too. Ah well, can't cry over spilled milk and lost mittens I suppose.  It was a genuinely gorgeous walk, if a bit windy, and I've found half a dozen new little "spots" that I can go to now when I just want to walk, see the birds, and be alone. Very comforting, and I suggest you go find one if you haven't yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116328048253876441?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116328048253876441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116328048253876441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116328048253876441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116328048253876441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-went-walking-in-woods-today-and-i.html' title='I went walking in the woods today, and I found a fish.'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116246977615392203</id><published>2006-11-02T08:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T08:16:16.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Have you ever had one of those moments where you question what you're doing and why you're doing it, that there must have been some step in the instructions that most other people didn't miss, some little gem of knowledge that would tie everything in and cause everything to make more sense? Yeah, I've been having one of those moments all week long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116246977615392203?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116246977615392203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116246977615392203&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116246977615392203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116246977615392203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/11/have-you-ever-had-one-of-those-moments.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116216734361107551</id><published>2006-10-29T20:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T20:15:43.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mardi Gras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2377/56/1600/IMG_0716.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2377/56/320/IMG_0716.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my roomate Katie and I, dressed up before we went out. Yes, that dismal cement block wall is our actual living room wall. It's very depressing, we do try to decorate to make up for it. I had horns and she had a tail. We enjoyed it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116216734361107551?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116216734361107551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116216734361107551&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116216734361107551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116216734361107551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/10/mardi-gras.html' title='Mardi Gras'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116215486951798927</id><published>2006-10-29T16:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-29T16:47:49.526-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I got bored with the waterlilly. It was pretty, but I didn't like messing around with the template when I wanted to change anything, and I totally don't have the time for it. Sad I know, but maybe I'll figure out something that will make this look prettier at some point. For now, simplicity will do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116215486951798927?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116215486951798927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116215486951798927&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116215486951798927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116215486951798927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-got-bored-with-waterlilly.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116177544953305834</id><published>2006-10-25T08:23:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T08:24:09.546-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Yeah yeah, I haven't posted in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Look, a million sorrys if you've missed me, I've been busy. I apologize if you think I've fallen off the face of the planet or some such horrid fate, alas, I'm still here. Things are a bit hectic here at school, I'm working far harder than I'm used to, which makes me quite a dull girl. I get up at 7, catch the bus at 8, class starts at 9, and I get off at sometime around 4-5, depending on whether I can leave then or not is up in the air, as I don't have all the programs on my computer at home, like idrisi or minitab, or the equation editor. Yeah, that's right, I'm all about the minitab these days. Shoot me now please. Then I spend a lovely rousing evening trying to figure out how to do the multitude of assignments that they've plagued us with, or imagine what exactly it is they'd like us to include in our mysterious lab reports. Sometimes I catch a quick swim, sometimes I just fall asleep from sheer exhaustion, only to wake up at 11 and panic because I've wasted too much time. God it's fun to be a grad student, why would I ever consider leaving this all behind to get a career?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get out last weekend though, had a fantastic time. Got to sit and drink with nice new people, and listen while they played guitar, which made me miss home terribly, but at least there are other people in the world that I've found to hang out with that are somewhat as nice as all the people I've left at home (or who've escaped to other parts of Canada). I'm usually referred to as "my love" or equally as cute "my duck" by those who address me, or called Tazmarania or KamasutraGirl. The girls call me Tamsyn for the most part, so I'll take it where I can get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently this weekend is Mardi Gras, and I've been requested to come to a prebash and join them for the long walk downtown in the freezing wind to stand in the streets and drink heartily with other people of like minds. Did I mention that it's required that you wear costumes? Yeah, apparently I've got to get on that too. Well see if I can afford to take the time off, or even afford it monetarily. As the first time in the past 9 years that I've spent without having a job of some sort, I'm quickly running out of money. Might be needing to look into fixing that, but I keep running into the problem that I hate people in general, dislike customer service with a passion, and lack the ability to work in the food industry. Hopefully something pops up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now I've got to go write a lab test, followed on Friday by a midterm, and finish two assignments and a few lab reports by then. Yeah, I'm having a blast up here. Can't wait for Christmas. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116177544953305834?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116177544953305834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116177544953305834&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116177544953305834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116177544953305834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/10/yeah-yeah-i-havent-posted-in-while.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-116033444229982001</id><published>2006-10-08T15:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-10-08T16:08:28.330-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Thanksgiving by my Onezies&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I took myself out for thanksgiving dinner. I put myself on the required buses and got myself up to the only Swiss chalet that I've seen here (apparently there are more than one, I wasn't going to push it). Had myself the lovely special, enjoyed and finished my lovely book, and had a very nice waiter who seemed to understand that I wasn't having a pity party for thanksgiving away from family, I was just there to have some nice chicken, and he was very attentive and kept calling me "my love" (it's a NFL thing). As I was sitting there, munching away and being thankful for Douglas Adams, I couldn't help but be distracted by the shrieking banshee who had landed her ass at the table across from mine. The woman went into long detail about how one should never trust supermarkets, everyone should always by straight from the farmers fields, how restaurants only serve heavily processed and preserved foods followed by a shrill "What do you mean strawberries aren't in season!! When I order strawberry desert, I expect them to be fresh!!" to the poor waitress trying her best to accommodate the hag. She went on to bitch about tipping waiters and waitresses, and how the customer should not be expected to pay more for service, that the restaurant should absorb the cost, or that the government should compensate for it because the waitstaff don't get taxed on it, and how unfair it all was. She then started a snarky running commentary to who I can only assume was her sister about how ill behaved her children were and chiding then for not being more demure, blaming it on her sister not making them get enough sleep. The kids weren't little angels, but they certainly weren't bothering anyone else, telling each other jokes and giggling, then coloring their placemats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they left, calm and pleasantness returned to our section of the restaurant, and all I could wonder was what had happened to that woman to make her quite so angry and bitter about life on the whole. Whatever it was, I'd really like to avoid it, I think the stress of being that negative about everything would be simply exhausting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-116033444229982001?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/116033444229982001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=116033444229982001&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116033444229982001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/116033444229982001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/10/thanksgiving-by-my-onezies-today-i.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115949797391050302</id><published>2006-09-28T23:29:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T23:46:13.926-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Tried to save a dog today&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katie and I went to the shoppers near our apartment today to pick up some essentials (aka pringles) and on our way back came across a slim little black mutt with a gray muzzle. Cute little guy, friendly enough to sit there and want to be patted, and wandering around in front of the sketchy Dominion (aka Superstore a la co-op foods). Being the obsessive nice girls that we are, we're concerned and joined swiftly by a nice dollar store girl who feels the same way. We wander in and out of shops trying to find the owner, then give the city number on the dogs tag a call, since it was a busy street (think equivalent to the corner of Belvedere and Queen) and we didn't just want to leave him there. They tell us the dog's name (Posey) and give us a number to call. As we're calling, a crabby old lady hobbles out of the dollar store and proceeds to tell us not to bother, silly girls, he was just sitting out there waiting for her, he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He's a good dog, and we shouldn't be calling the pound on him! We shoot each other looks of "Um, ok, just leave your dog untied and wandering the streets with no leash while you go to the dollar store" and head off into the sunset. Whatever, we just didn't want to leave the dog to get hit by a car, even if his owner was negligent. I'm slightly paranoid about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy ending to the story though, he went off home with his owner, not left on the side of the street, and we felt better about ourselves for having cared. And when cranky old lady's husband called us later (I'm assuming he had call display), he was very nice and thanked us profusely for having taken the time to care. Karma's a happy little dozer, and this is a strange little town, I'll take it where I can get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other odd but amusing happenings, two girls were standing outside the University center with signs offering free hugs, and giving them away to pretty much everyone who came by. I took one and thanked her. Her name was Janice. When Mei came home, she was ecstatic about the whole thing, as she'd gotten hugged too. I guess in China, that would definitely never happen, and she immediately had to call home about it. It gave me a giggle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115949797391050302?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115949797391050302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115949797391050302&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115949797391050302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115949797391050302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/09/tried-to-save-dog-today-katie-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115902489141407951</id><published>2006-09-23T12:08:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-23T12:21:32.340-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Kitchen party Newfoundland style&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, if you're wondering, is just like a kitchen party PEI style, with slightly more liquor, more of which ends up on the floor. Except with a much higher probability that I don't know a whole lot more of the people there. That's ok though, I made friends with the guy who's birthday it was who lived there. Apparently all that took was, "No, I don't know who that band is that you've got posters of all over your wall, but sure, put on something by them. Yes, seriously, otherwise I won't know what they sound like." He was tickled pink and so proud of his fav band. It was funny. Then I headed home when the majority of party goers continued on to the bar, since I'm super poor, and I feel ancient when I go to the student union bar at MUN. Really ancient. Like 5 years older than most people there. Ah well, that's what you get when you go back to school I guess. Next weekend I'll tackle Bitters, meet up with some more grad students. I also think I want to grab the bull by the horns and wrangle some kind of soiree together for the advanced diploma students over at the Marine institute, since there's only 40 of us and we're already getting clicky. It's an adventure. We shall see. Oh yeah, and maybe I'll try and catch up on all the work I should have done. Yeah, that would be good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115902489141407951?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115902489141407951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115902489141407951&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115902489141407951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115902489141407951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/09/kitchen-party-newfoundland-style-which.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115861225064273375</id><published>2006-09-18T17:22:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T17:44:10.696-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorry, I've been ill lately.</title><content type='html'>So now I understand why they call the cold the flu up here in NFL. Gross. I spent the better part of the weekend in bed, with my roommate Katie forcing extra strength neocitrine on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I finally have internet in my room! And we have a tv in the living area, with a vcr, and my dvd player will work with it! Now all I need to do is turn them all off so that I can study. Oh yeah, that's what I'm doing up here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week our wonderful department chair will be taking us down to Moncton for the water conference. I'm uber excited. I think I may even start looking around while I'm there for any possibilities for my future career!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gotten to do some sight seeing, went downtown with Katie to see the harbor and visit some of the "hippy" shops, a la Peakes Quay/lower Queen street style shops. I guess there's a real demand for colorful glass pipes and handmade jewelry in every port town. We visited the famous George Street, and had lunch in one of the pubs, where I had the fishcakes. Very nice, now I feel like I belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come when I don't feel so guilty about not studying!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115861225064273375?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115861225064273375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115861225064273375&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115861225064273375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115861225064273375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/09/sorry-ive-been-ill-lately.html' title='Sorry, I&apos;ve been ill lately.'/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115809199337950928</id><published>2006-09-12T16:58:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T17:13:46.573-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The logic of this place is absolutely astounding.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually sat in class and laughed for about 5 minutes straight today, right in the middle of class. We all had a good chuckle. Here's why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Calling 3 different offices spanning two different provinces for the past 5 business days "hey, do you have my loan, I know the papers were filed, can I pay for school now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;them: "No, it's not here, you didn't send it in early enough, you should have sent it in earlier so it could be processed on time, it's your own fault."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "How can that be? It was passed in a week before the deadline, and the letter came saying it was processed? I know I've sent it in!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Them: "no you're wrong, you have to be wrong, we don't just lose that kind of information"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later, when my loan papers suddenly 'mysteriously' appear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Thank you oh thank you soooo much! This is great. By the by, where exactly were they/how were they found?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Them: "Well, you sent them in so early, it was assumed that it was for a previous year/from someone who would get it before school started, so we filed them away where we didn't have them visible. Perhaps you shouldn't have sent them in so early. We've had them here the whole time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next comes the arrival of my long awaited computer package, which I have to wait for a little yellow sheet to arrive in my mail box so I can traipse across campus and haul it back to my place. I check the box at 4:30, no paper. I go home, drink some milk, and just for kicks, go across campus to the housing department to see if maybe it had come in but my notice hadn't been sent over. It's now 5:05, and of course, housing is closed. At least I got to look at the ducks and run up 3 flights of stairs. I also get a rude indication of when the office hours are, and that I should have come by earlier. Mind you, we actually live in our apartments 24/7. You also have to be full time to be allowed to live in housing, which I am, my classes go from 9-5 everyday, I just got out early today. Housing services hours? Yep, they're 9-5 weekdays only. Craptascular planning. On my way home, I stop at my mail box, where, of course, my little yellow package notice is. It's now 5:10, and I may never get my package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My classmates and I have decided to make all Friday evening happy hour. It will be grand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115809199337950928?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115809199337950928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115809199337950928&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115809199337950928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115809199337950928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/09/logic-of-this-place-is-absolutely.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115775987286264202</id><published>2006-09-08T20:44:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T20:58:55.533-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Still livin it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as much as I can be with no student loan yet or computer, but now at least I have a phone! I ended up breaking down and getting a NFL phone number, so my cell phone number is now changed. I can tell that you all desperately want to know my number so that you can all inundate me with phone calls, but I won't post it here, oh no. You'll have to email me for it. So there. But if you do e-mail me, I'll be happy to share it. And then you'll have to call me. Or leave me messages. I like messages. They make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My adventures continued today as I went to a movie by myself. I had some time to kill at the good mall before the bus came (like an hour) so while wandering around, I saw the movie theater and decided that I'd have to take my roomie up on her invite to go sometime. Then I thought about it, and realized that that's something I can do on my own too! So off I went. Really big theater. Well, only 12 theaters big, but ours certainly doesn't have blacklight minigolf, two arcades, 2 levels and a bar in it. Trust NFL to put a bar in a movie theater. Swank. In honor of the whole going back to university thing, I went to see Accepted. Funny movie. It wasn't amazing, but I didn't want to go to a sappy romance and miss people, or a chick flick and miss people. So comedy it was. The place was empty, so I sat and talked with one of the employees before the movie started, since she had nothing to do, as there was absolutely no one around, and she didn't want them to give her more work to do. Happy to be the aid of procrastination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's some fun news: Joel Plasket is playing here tonight in the breezeway. Unfortunately for me, it was sold out before I even knew he was here. So needless to say, I'm here in the Pond's computer lab on a friday night with my new friend Linda (that's totally not her name, but she's from Bangladesh, so that's what she told me to call her).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next on the docket, what to do on Saturday in St Johns' when you don't know anyone or where to go. . . . .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115775987286264202?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115775987286264202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115775987286264202&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115775987286264202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115775987286264202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/09/still-livin-it-up.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115758055750554597</id><published>2006-09-06T18:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-09-06T19:22:07.306-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, so here I am on the big ol rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived with little fanfare over here in St. John's, although a half hour late. The flight wasn't terrible, but they really couldn't seem to get their act together over there in Halifax. First their computers were down (eek!) and then their baggage carrousels weren't working, which made me spend the entire flight over worried that my baggage wasn't going to make it. It did though, and I felt altogether mature and accomplished as I made my way out of the airport by my lonesome and flagged a cabbie to make it to MUN. Then I tried to track down my proctor so I could get my room keys. Ummmm, yeah, leaving a "gone, be back later, give my cell a ring" note on your door when people are schedule to come get their keys from you, not so impressive. Luckily I had my cell phone, so I could call the guy. Got to my room, only one person there, my Chinese nursing student roommate, who is cute, but after she said hello, smiled, and offered me a biscuit (cookie) she went directly into her room again and closed her door. I guess that's just her thing, she's a bit on the timid side.&lt;br /&gt;My room: super tiny. It's basically twice as wide as a twin bed, and a bit on the end for the closet part. I suppose it's a good thing since I don't have much stuff, but it seems sooooo bare right now. I immediately felt like crying because my room is so cozy and roomy at home, and I left it behind. But I didn't, so I grabbed my bag, called a cab, and took off to walmart to spend way too much money on stuff like sheets and food. When I came home, I met my other two roommates, one from truro, the other from St Anthony, Nfl. I love my Nfl roommate, she's awesome! She's in arts and her dad's a fisherman, and she's sweet and talkative. The one from Truro, not so much. Barely a peep, heads off with her boyfriend into her room, and doesn't want to have any part of the conversation about splitting things like a microwave or tv. (Yeah, that's right, no microwave or tv. I may die.) See, she's done that before, she's in her fourth year and not into sharing, and if she needs any of that, she'll go to her boyfriends room. Ok, whatever lady. I head off to bed around 12, sooo glad that I brought my dvd player, and fall asleep before I'm halfway through one episode of family guy. Thank you Nathan.&lt;br /&gt;I get up the next morning, and boot'er across campus to make it to the bus. I latch on to the first boy I see waiting outside the student center, and luckily for me, he's headed to the MI too. He advises me not to take the bus I was going to take, and I jump on the one he's going on. Nice guy, his friend jumps on at the next stop, and I feel like I'm not so alone in the world. Then we get off and go in opposite directions, and I feel totally alone again. Lots of guys running around in Navy uniforms, I felt tooootaly in the wrong place. Then I found out that it was because they had a little orientation meeting in the room just before we were scheduled to have ours, so I waited it out, then all the advanced diploma students went in. Sweet, there were like 40 of us altogether, and I immediately made a friend named Lhea. Unfortunately after the meeting, we split up into our respective degree groups, and she isn't taking water quality.&lt;br /&gt;Get this, my big ol' group? Yeah, there's 4 of us all together. 4. That's it. All of my classes all year will just have four people in it. Rock. I totally can't get caught slacking. Then I found out that I'm a grad student!!! That's fun! I figured I had to be doing my masters or phd, but nope, I'm totally a grad student! So says MUN anyway, so I get the perks! We have our own lounge and computer lab, and other students don't get to use them,which is a waste, because they're kind of nice. But I also don't have to pay for printing, which is super awesome! Did the class thing, ate the lunch, talked about going to a water quality conference in NB, and then got my MUN student ID.&lt;br /&gt;Then I hopped a bus and went to the Mall. Pretty sweet mall. Has absolutely everything. gap and AE included. Phew. I'm wiped. Now I'm off to explore more of the campus, including the pool!!!! Yay, more to come later! pics will be posted when I get my computer, and you'll get to meet my duck friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115758055750554597?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115758055750554597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115758055750554597&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115758055750554597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115758055750554597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/09/ok-so-here-i-am-on-big-ol-rock-i.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115685447130753727</id><published>2006-08-29T09:27:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T10:31:08.956-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;I've decided to set this blog in motion now rather than later. I'm starting to get really excited about my move. But I'm also starting to get sad. I'll miss people, of course, but I can talk to people on the phone and msn, and I'll be able to come home in three months for christmas (and everyone else has to as well). What I'm going to miss the most day to day are the animals. I knew that that was going to be the hardest part, but making breakfast this morning with the two cats sitting on the chair together watching me while occasionally swiping at one another, and the dog waking me up at 6 this morning just to lick my face and make sure I was paying attention to her so that she could go back to sleep really made me realize that I wasn't going to see them for a long time. I know that they'll be looked after when I'm at school, thanks to my wonderful parents, roommate, and coworker, I just don't know if they'll catch Binx's subtle: "I'm looking at you out of the corner of my eye in my sly way that means you've got 19.6 seconds to get me outside or I'll poo on your floor" or give my antisocial kitty just the slight amount of affection she needs so she doesn't turn to a pile of mush. The bunny's cool, she just doesn't want to be bothered, and wants good music she can groove her little bunny ears to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I've got to go away so I can get out of the underemployment slump I've been in since I graduated. *Sigh* Otherwise, there's no way for me to afford the food and litter it's going to take to keep them all going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Last sobby post about animals for a while, I swear.  Mre to come on NFL shortly, I promise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115685447130753727?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115685447130753727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115685447130753727&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115685447130753727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115685447130753727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/08/ive-decided-to-set-this-blog-in-motion.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115263824491450522</id><published>2006-07-11T14:13:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T14:17:24.920-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Ok, so my summer updates so far are that I've been accepted to the Marine Institute, both the marine Institute and Memorial recognize that I'm going to be a student there, I have a student number, and I've paid my deposit to make my claim on the spot I'll take for my classes. Phew, this is exciting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115263824491450522?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115263824491450522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115263824491450522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115263824491450522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115263824491450522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/07/ok-so-my-summer-updates-so-far-are.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30439252.post-115158749969046455</id><published>2006-06-29T10:24:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T10:24:59.700-03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>testing post&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30439252-115158749969046455?l=tamsyn.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/feeds/115158749969046455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30439252&amp;postID=115158749969046455&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115158749969046455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30439252/posts/default/115158749969046455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamsyn.blogspot.com/2006/06/testing-post.html' title=''/><author><name>T~</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_T4k4E8x6ZYY/SvlyCh3PLDI/AAAAAAAAAZw/pvfcSF8fntk/S220/IMG_2104+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
