It didn't occur to me that I should write something about this until Miranda did.
I think we all agree that starving to death is one of the worst way to die - sadly, it is the only legal option available to people who are terminally ill or in a vegetative state. Yes, yes, we all think Michael Schaivo wasn't being straight with us, but rather than focusing on that, or on religious elements, we should look at this as an impetus for legalizing euthanasia.
Every case is different. We can't get caught up in the details. Yes, Terri Schaivo had a messed up family situation, and yes, she had an eating disorder, and this that and the other. But there are thousands of people who are sick and dying right now, who are suffering, and the only option they have is starvation.
The fight against legalizing euthanasia is fueled by a fear of death - we can't fear death any more than we fear life. It is inevitable, and we need to accept it.
Hopefully, if I am ever in that situation, our society will have realized that, and euthanasia will be legal.

Today I felt like writing about how happy and carefree I am, because, for once, such is the case.
My hair has been very good to me lately. It's soft and light, and just the way I like it.
I'm gonna meet up with Sean in a bit, and we're gonna go to the Eaton Center, where I will try to transform a gift certificate into a raincoat. Behold my alchemy!!
I got a call from a place a sent a resume to - I wasn't home to receive the call, but I am hoping interviews will follow. It's for a tour company, and I applied to work as a tour guide.

Someone, somewhere, decided that the best way to usher in Spring would be to renovate the balconies of my apartment building.

Someone, somewhere, decided that the best way to do this was to jack hammer away parts of the concrete slabs that make up said balconies.

The process is loud.

I've been at home for about three hours, watching a TV that I couldn't hear, because it is the only thing to do that requires neither hearing nor concentration.

Exposure to noise over 80 dB for over an hour can cause permanent hearing damage.

I deleted a great portion of what I posted yesterday. It's time for me to accept that my "artistic" days are over and done and dead. And it's also time for me to accept that I don't really care any more.

Somewhere at the end of grade 12, I went out for a walk at lunchtime with Irene. It was a glorious, sunny day, not very humid, but very warm. I told her I was going to study physics at U of T, and she was shocked. She said they'd kill the artist in me.

Well, here's to prophecy come to pass. Cheers.