WoeoW. I feel like I haven't said more then five minutes collectively, of anything all day. It's been impossible to know what to say about much, so I've just been quiet and disconsolate.

My brother went home today. I think he was relieved to be on his way back. Too much reality is a bitch sometimes.

Grandma's stomach tube is leaking stomach acids all over her. They're afraid she might go toxic, and the nurses are being quite vigilante. For the last week, she's been sleeping nights in the chair next to her bed religiously (an old brown armchair), avoiding the bed. The last few days, she's been too weak to get out of the chair. Tonight she's in the bed. I don't think she'll leave it. The girls are bickering like mad dogs again, and tonight, they were in full raised voices mode at the hospice, and someone almost called security and had them removed because they were being loud, and rude to the orderlies. My father seems like he's silently imploding through all of this, and I'm really worried about him.

I went out last night, and was completely and utterly fiscally irresponsible. I think I blew sixty bucks in the span of five hours or so. We went to see Smoothride and this really shit band called Crysnd (correct spelling) who actually weren't that shit, but just not what I'm in to- Nickleback rip-offs. My god, the lead singer was even all Chad Kroegered out in the same clothes. Maddening! Mind you, I was singing along to a particular Nickleback cover (it was afterall inevitable that they do one) because it is the only Nickleback song that I absolutely love, inexplicably. I just feel bad for the band, because ....they're not very original...and I don't think that bodes well for them even though they had a pretty tight set for the most part, and good vocals. The kid actually had great vocals, though he tended to -I can't think of the word- uhhh...."ape" a little, with his voice, like he didn't trust his own range or something. At the same time, I can empathize, I used to do that a lot (still do if I do Karaoke, simply because, I don't really care) until I trusted my own voice, or even realized that I sounded good making my own ridiculous noises. Man, it's been a while since I've seriously sang anything though. I should get crackin' on that.

Apre the concert, we went to New City. It was nice, but I wasn't too keen on the music, save for a few songs. And I sort of bottomed out really fast. I didn't drink too much, but what little I did drink made me crash in the middle of some awful attempt at hiphop industrial somethingsomething. It was nice to see Hydrass though, and Fenton...well, he was Fenton. It was fun, but sitting through Change in the House of Flies [1] was sort of depressing and I quickly wanted to go home after that. What have I learned? We need to start not drinking at functions again, and also, swear off the cabs as much as possible.

Interesting news. ... It seems that WestJet has completely estranged himself from me. I can't say that I'm upset, or suprised. It was the first time it wasn't me that ended a conversation on the phone, and the first time he had nothing to say at all to me. Because it was about my life. Fancy that.

Walked through Ikea today, and ended up standing in a sterile white office ensamble watching a fifteen minute train go by, analyzing the graffitti and pretending to have out of body experiences involving scandanavian furniture and Alberta grain cars. I was so still at one point that I thought I would be mistaken for a fake human, standing alongside all the fake pieces of electronics they always have in there.

I had a great idea yesterday- always being a bit doom and gloom when it comes to the fate of the world's freshwater resources- and decided it should be against the law to use water in commercials or movies, outside of taping around or in natural bodies of water. If you think about it, we're at the point now where feasibly, you could CGI water, instead of actually using gallons and gallons of it in one shitty two minute commercial. And etc, and etc. I thought it was a great idea anyways. Use water only for what it is meant for. Sustenance and bathing. In that order. I think when I move out, with Fenton or not, I'm going to start being a lot more environmentally conscious again, and make the place as eco friendly as feasibly possible. The good thing about doing this, is that my dad will totally chip in on that, because he's all for it. We'll see what Fenton thinks though, I suppose.

Best compliment recieved all week and geniune picker-upper: "'Emerson' [2]...any man stupid enough not to want to be with you is a fool." [3]

[1] I once pledged to sing that in my english 30 presentation (interpretation of the song...don't ask), and chickened out last minute, leaving Thomas the Spikey haired, to do an electric guitar version in front of the class while we all sort of sat there awkwardly for six minutes, because without me singing, the guitar bit was pretty damn redundant.

[2] Pseudonyms have been provided to weakly protect the identity of the author.

[3] My main man "Logan" from the homestead. He and I go way back. Admittedly, I have taken his friendship for granted at times, but he's always there when I need him. I wish I was that good a friend to him, because sometimes I feel like I'm not, and he's always loved me unconditionally, even when I haven't noticed. He's got one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know. But alas, he is stuck in the homestead.  ¶ 1:23 AM