Babe, it's a magic station

I have only one more week left with the corrupt bourgeois pigs otherwise known as VANOC. (I serve primarily VANOC employees where I work) It's really quite fascinating to see them spend hours a day gossiping in a coffee shops and spending 14 dollars in a 8 hours shift on luxury items such as cappuccinos and cookies. It's also fascinating to listen to their conversations, things most tax paying citizens wont normally hear. Things like "We have to get the natives involved in volunteering. The natives will then feel like they're helping out and then cause less trouble," patronizing much? Or "Which Olympic mascot will look better as a Christmas ornament?" I'm on my  break right now and the guys beside me are talking about going to school during the Olympics and how amazing it was to witness the torch relay through downtown Calgary.

I am applying once again for Capilano's Global Stewardship program. Last week I went to an information meeting at the college. I think I made an excellent impression  on the professor, which is good as only 30 students get in a year. I am annoyed that I have to go to school to do what I want to do. I am annoyed that school is a form of class division where the rich get poor and the poor get poorer. I hate that I have to go deep into debt while others have it handed to them. I hate that I have to pay out of my ears so that the professor receives a 6 figure income, so some school that I don't care about can have a sports team, so the cafeteria can have a floor to ceiling mural with inspirational phrases and quotes adorning the walls.  I hate that now I need a computer to go to school. Why on earth would I want to waste money on a computer when I would already be paying for so many other things. Computers are just class division generator. When I was in highschool everything had to be handed in neatly typed. By this point my parents had a computer so it wasn't so bad but I lacked a printer so I had to walk to the library and print it out. What if I hadn't had a computer and lived to far away from the library? What kind of parents struggling to pay rent and feed their children would want to spend hundreds of dollars on a computer so their kids can get better grades?

Every time I feel I've made significant progress in defeating this western disease called materialism it seems I fall back  a couple of steps.  I think it goes deeper than materialism, it's the deeper search for satisfaction. It reminds me of this short film I saw once called 'Hunger." It was about this man that ate himself to death. It was a commentary on over consumption made by a Canadian back in the '60s. Now, fourty something years later it's even more relevant and I wonder how much more relevant it's going to get, especially in my own life. I don't want to disgust myself this way anymore. If i didn't buy clothes I didn't need I would have so much more money to go to school, travel, or maybe I would actually donate large sums of money like I always say I will but never do. Like this past summer when I said I would pay for a couple of kids to go to summer camp, like how others always paid for me to go when I was a kid. But then I somehow didn't notice that summer has passed. I hate when time passes without you noticing. What will it take for me to force myself to dig my heels into the ground and defeat this post-industrialized societal condition?

Tomorrow I'm putting in my two weeks notice. Then I'm buying a one way ticket to Montreal where I will meet up with Cole. Then I want to see the east coast and perhaps back track to Ottawa and Toronto. Then, I will probably head home. I'm not bringing more than  backpack. 
I have a sore throat. I'm sure beer is not the best thing for it but I don't really care right now. We all know dehydration is good for sickness. It's either beer or coffee, as I'm sitting in a coffeeshop using my roommates computer. I guess tea would do too, I don't care for tea, 'cept yerba mate. Perhaps I'll quit coffee. It was a liberating moment the day I decided making coffee would not be my method of survival. Enough on that subject though. I'm way too obsessive. I don't recall not having an obsession. When I was a kid it was trying to learn everything I possibly could about space, or memorizing the entire script of Back to the Future. Then as a teen it was an eating disorder, or reading every book by third wave feminists about eating disorders. Then, for some strange reason, it became coffee. I no longer identify myself as a feminist. I was such an awkward teenager.
On the subject of graduating from adolescence...In Montreal I will be of legal drinking age. On the contrary, the day I plan on leaving is also election day, making it difficult to vote. One adult right lost the same day as another gained.
Being legal drinking age wont be any different. I can always order alcohol in restraunts should I feel like it, all my friends are over the age of 19,  I can borrow id to get into concerts and I've already borrowed Ariana's id to get into clubs and learned that i'd rather die than spend another night in a overpacked, perfumed room of horny guys and drunk girls who can't walk properly because of their hideous $150 aldo rip offs of useless Jimmy Choos.
So many of my friends have no intention on voting. I don't get how someone would justify not voting.

I'm going to truly  start using this thing again. I like it better than facebook and I need some sort of computer related activity to fill my half hour lunch break. True, I could do something useful, like read or go for a walk but  I'm just too lazy at work.
I'm awaiting an email. This sunday I may be in a movie as a barista. Typical, yes. But how else will I be Vancouver's next "it" girl? Nah, I don't have a hipster dj friend or have superior underground music knowledge. It will never happen. I hate waiting around for emails.
I'm trying to learn, for like the 5th time since adolescence, how to be happy with my body.

I'm at my parent's house in Hope right now, sitting, cold, in the basement, on the computer. It brought me back to previous years, when I spent my days, in the basement, cold, on the computer. Which, in turn, brought me to livejournal. I last updated almost exactly a year ago. I wrote it two nights before moving out for the first time. On one hand my life has changed tons since then but reading back old entries reminds me that it hasn't really. Only circumstances have changed. I'm still far too obsessed with coffee, thrift stores, greyhounds, not shaving my legs and fighting against my own vanity. I still work at a coffeeshop (which Mr. Lawson predicted in a previous entry dated sometime in '07) Speaking of which, myself and my latte art are to appear in the next issue of Vancouver Life Magazine. Interestingly enough, I'm so not proud.  Back on the subject of the selfish topic of my life to date...Not a lot has changed. I have this overwhelming desire to change something. It's like a requirement or something. I keep saying I'm going to quit my job (which, by the way, is the  dream job of Caitlin circa '07) I sincerely want out of the coffee industry. I think coffee is something that I clung on to during a adolescent identity crisis or something. I went "Hey! I'm good at making lattes! I'm going to obsess about this until it becomes my trademark!" Gah, I hate lattes! They are a symbol of western excess. In fact, I haven't had one to drink in probably a year, k, probably less. Interestingly enough, I went to the doctor today about coffee induced stomach pain. It's like a physical indicator of my mental  rejection of coffee. I just got a raise to $13 dollars an hour. Not too shabby at all for a service industry job. I will hate myself if money is what keeps me doing this.

Today I walked from downtown Hope to my parents house. There is this steep trail that goes from the street to another street that I take to get home. I didn't think I was still capable of running up it because I had succumbed to misogynist notion of high healed boots on this particular day. I could still go up with ease. I think I would have burned all my shoes with a heal if I couldn't. I intend on burning them someday anyways.

Two more nights living with my parents. I'm a Hoper for Lifer.

http://thevelvetsun.livejournal.com/248185.html

Someone in livejournal land is finally doing something about pro-ed livejournal communities. She's contacted livejournal support and threatened that unless they took proanorexia off the web, she will contact every media outlet she can. Plus, she has started a petition. Livejournal has a no abuse policy, yet pro-ed does not fall under it. It's been argued that forbidding the community is hindering freedom of speech. Doesn't make sense then, that lj would allow this but not allow display pictures of mothers breastfeeding their children, or, even more subversive, Harry Potter fans righting fandom stories. These types of communities are incredibly triggering for girls who may not even have an eating disorder yet has traits that make her more susceptible to developing one. Not to mention the dangers of a group of like minded individuals offering support and motivation to harm one's self.
A few months ago "pro-ed" was the third most searched phrase on Yahoo. That terrified me. Sign the petition.

93% ON ENGLISH LITERATURE 12 FINAL EXAM BABY

I have a sewing machine, I have a sewing machine, I have a sewing machine.

MUSIC FEST FOR LYFE.

Danielle, Adrienne and I wanted to go to the Music Fest after work so we got Sherina to steel wrist bands for us. We didn't even need them. We just went to the gate and said "We're with the Blue Moose." It worked better than taking off our shirts would have, which we ended up doing for an epic 80's synth metal band later that night.

Danielle: Lets rock out to PRISM!!!!
So in a crowd of children with there parents and middle aged women wishing that they could sleep with the band without cheating on there husbands we RAWKED OUT HARD. Prism rawked with us. The synth player, whose name is Stevo and has every STD from the 80's that I would gladly accept from him, would point at us and we would scream out his name. We then took off our work shirts and threw them at the middle aged men in leather. Stevo didn't like it too much. He picked it up, displayed the Blue Moose sign (which Wes was pleased about) and threw them back into the crowd. I really wanted my shirt back, it was the only small brown work shirt. Later that night I saw a kid wearing it and playing tag with his friends. I literally had to chase after him.
Caitlin: Did you find that shirt on the ground?
Terrified Child: No
Caitlin: ummm, that's my work shirt
*Child takes off shirt and hands it to Caitlin and runs away*

3 cups coffee + energy drink + energy drink steamed and poured over a shot of espresso.

Caitlin+Tiffany+Mitch+Superstore Parking Lot=Best night of my life.

Superstore is a death trap.

Tonight is the first night of the Music Fest. Last years Music Fest it was Danielle, Adam and I. It's the same three this year. Last year we didn't get off work until 12:30 because of the insane music fest madness.

Caitlin: Do you guys have mint tea?
Starbucks Employee: YES! But we call it REFRESH! It's refreshing.
Caitlin: cute

Dr. Singleton prescribed me 1,200 mg of iron a day.

"Quickies" is my new favorite book.

Janine is a god. I thank Harry Potter for her superhuman sexual strength.

A sold a woman 8 shots of espresso today.

My room is the cleanest is has ever been. It was so vile before I cleaned it. I've been relatively productive since returning from Montreal. I've made some cash to buy some cars and hoes, baked biscotti, woke up before 11am and kept my room decent.

I need to stop sleeping in.
Sleeping in until 12 and leaving at three gives about 2 and a half hours to my day, where the first 45 mins consists of drinking coffee and staring at a blank computer screen. I need to do something productive.
Maybe I'll clean my room.
Danielle's giving me her old cell today. I've decided I might actually use it. I am the last standing teen without a cell.

Within the past week I graduated from highschool, got my driver's license and had my hair chopped off.

I just had dinner with the Rotary Club. It was boring.


I drove Danielle around Hope because she wanted to see how good I was at driving. Oh god, I suck.

I named my car George, after the man who failed me on my road test.

I'm naming my first-born Elaine, after the woman who passed me.

"It's a breeze to go through your day feeling beautiful" with Venus Breeze. Oh dear. Marketing ploys are so vile. I'm going to go shave my legs so I look hawt when I go to bed tonight.
I slept in until 1 today. It was nice.