February 2, 2010.
Okay, this update is solely for the sick person who thought it was funny to sign my cbox as "someone kill kids" You can hate on me, but leave my kids out of it. You are fricken' disturbed. Get some help.
Syl.
January 31, 2010.
I'm gonna keep it simple today,just drop the beat. 'Cause I'm cool like that./p>
This part is especially going out to YOU. You know who you are:
I wonder why, why, I wonder why, why I oughta,
Let you wreck, resurrect whatever you want to.
I can't depend, in the end you know
I thought you were my friend.
Just stop, just stop, just stop I think I got it.
Sorry you, sorry me, sorry every in between,
Sorry everybody he will never be somebody clean.
There's a piece of me they're throwing back at us,
And they will buy you and sell you for celebrity status
Syl.
January 27, 2010.
I guess it's time for me to bloggit again. I don't know. I know that probably no one ever reads these, but I find the whole process very therapeutic. Kind of helps me put my mind to rights again.
There's some kind of epidemic going through the Harper household. First Trent "grew" some sores that were flowering all over his hands, then Quentin got some of the sores growing on his wrist, which have now spread to the webbing of his chubby little fingers, and then I wake up one morning to a yellow "flower" on the top of my foot. It's all very painful. I hope it goes away soon. So far, the only people to remain unaffected by these break-outs is Eddie and Nathan. Sheesh.
DOTC winter days are arriving this weekend! I hope that my allowance is deposited by then. I want to go for once. In the four years I've lived in Brandon, I have yet to enjoy ONE DAY of festivities. Hows that for poor? LOL. I won't mind missing it so much though. I like my weekends. I can watch as much tv as I want to then. If I do get my allowance in, I want to go watch the square dancers and jiggers. I love watching how thier feet seem to have a life of thier own. It's like a little bit of indian magic.
I hope I don't offend anyone for saying Indian, btw. I just always feel awkward trying to say "native" or "native american" or "aboriginal" or "first nations". I still haven't found the word that I'm comfortable with. I'm comfortable with indian because that's the word I grew up with. Some day, I'll find it...my perfect word to describe us. Maybe I should just go with the word that is available in our language "anshinwak" or "anshin". Dunno dunno. We shall see what Sylvia comes up with later.
Okay, so I am done for now. Gonna mess around with my geetar. I can't play good but still, it's relaxing. Plus I'm trying to grow my guitar calluses back. It's been a while since I've had a good set of them. They always end up falling off from all my dishwashing and stuff. LOL.
Okay, playing today is Josiah Lemming, "Maybe".
Syl.
January 19, 2010. Evening Update
I just wanted to come and share a video here. I first heard this song last night and then again on Ellen(I set the reminder on my cable box to let me know when it was on). This guy is awesome and this song brought tears to my eyes. It's been a long time since a song really touched me, I think the last time a song made me cry was when I heard "Phoenix" by Terry McCaffrey(click to view video).
So anyway, here is Matt Morris singing "Bloodline".
Good listening!
Syl.
Ps. I took my music player off because I didn't know how to turn off the autoplay :P
January 19, 2010. Morning Update
Yes, it's January 19 and it's my birthday.
I am 29 years old. Surprisingly, that doesn't scare me. When I turned 20, I was appalled, because it meant I wasn't a teenager anymore. Now, who in their right mind would want to be a teenager? LOL. Those years were the worst years of my life. Sure, I think back and miss the freedom and carefree life I had, but that came at a huge price. There was too much angst. It was probably the most confusing time of my life. HOWEVER, I am glad for the trials and tribulations I experienced, because it made me the wonderful Sylvia I am today.
I feel like I am ready. I am ready to embrace my 30's when it comes next year. My 20's was a decade of great change for me. Surprisingly, I had more freedom then I did when I was a teenager, and I know that I am better able to handle that freedom. I think that I am the most happiest than I have ever been. Not to say that I am done growing up. I know I still have a long way to go. I have a lot more to learn and thankfully, I love learning. Right now, I feel like I have so many doors still open for me. I have many options. I am not dead yet, on the contrary, I am still very much alive. I would venture to say that I am at the very cusp of young adulthood, and after this, it will be a very fun ride. I would love to travel the world. I would love to write a "WORLD'S BEST SELLING" novel. I would love for my children to experience as much as they can, just so they can broaden thier horizons and know that, YES, they can do anything (providing it's legal.LOL). And i love University, I have met so many people and had the opportunity to experience things I would not have had if I had stayed on the rez. I find that I am more open, less afriad of meeting new people. Yes, I love this me.
Anyway. Enough of my senseless babble. My keyboard is going kerflooey on me and it's annoying. Especially when I type so much.
Goodnight, and a Merry Sylvia Birthday to all of you!
Syl.
January 14, 2010.
Apparently, if you don't have a facebook, you're dead to the world.
My response to that? Being dead is cool.
SUCK ON THAT!!!
LOL! I love Mean Girls. Anyhoot. I'll bbl. I still have stuff to do. Take care!!!
Syl.
January 13, 2010.
Okay, ndots I put a layout. I was bored.
I'm reading about homosexuality in the Middle-East for my "Sex and the Sacred" class and I was disturbed to read that a surgeon was quoted as saying that thier most effective means of curing homosexuality in men was to cauterize the anus, thus making it smaller and therefore making it painful for the "submissive male" to be penetrated and making it impossible for the the "dominent male" to penetrate. Isn't that the most disturbing thing? Those poor men. I mean. I don't know. I'm all for the freedom of being able to be who you are, and I can truly sympathise with the stuggle that these people are living with on a day-to-day basis, but COME ON!!! Isn't that a little too extreme? It gives me the willies. BLEH.
Okay, no more of that.
Quentin went sliding today. I asked him where he went and he said "back-boggoning!", which I took to mean "toboggoning". It's such a quaint word. I remember sliding down a hill in a toboggon. The little space at the front was perfect for sticking my feet into. The only problem was that if you slid sideways, you were bound to capsize, snow flying everywhere. Including in your face. I think that was my favourite part. I used to like screaming with my mouth wide open so that I could catch alot of snow in my mouth.
I was fortunate to meet the writer of the graphic novel "The Life of Helen Betty Osborne" at the university today. He was very encouraging when I told him that I wanted to be a writer myself, and even told me to feel free to email him anything I wanted him to read over. Anyway, I think this book would be a terrific novel to use in classrooms, in both English and Native Studies. For those of you who don't know, a graphic novel is not really a novel. It's more like a comic book, with pictures and captions not unlike those in Archie comics. I just thought I would clarify that because I mentioned the book to someone at the university and she was like, "So how is it? Is it really graphic? Does it have a lot of violence and stuff in it?" LOL. So, if you are interested in knowing more, join the facebook page "The Life of Helen Betty Osborne". The writer, Dave Robertson, is very nice, oh and he's very good-looking too. He had a good time posing for pictures. LOL.
Okay. That's enough blurbing for me now. I have two books to return tomorrow and I have to finish reading them before then.
Goodnight! Syl.
Pictures
The handsome author of "The Life of Helen Betty Osborne" David Alexander Robertson (photos courtesy of Audrey Flett)
Please be nice...
