I'm doing dishes, and Meghan is in my room looking through my CDs. She comes into the kitchen. Meghan: \"Hold out your hand.\" I hold out my sudsy hand and she slaps it. \"SISQO?\" Jocelyn: \"It's only a single! But forgive me, father, for I have sinned!\"|
my wild colonials cds came from cdnow. i think they might be my favourite band. i love their version of "brokedown palace".|
my dad is a superhero. in the past three days he has made multiple drug-store trips for over the counter medications, rented four movies, and defeated manny, who phoned (at 11.30!) to tell me my credit card application had been approved.
i watched four movies in the past two days: the virgin suicides (which has the most beautiful, beautiful original score by air, which i found on CDNOW for $40 US and in Harddrive for $20 canadian-- go figure), the opposite of sex, buffy the vampire slayer, and 1941. to be fair, i shouldn't count this one since i fell asleep partway through it.
i know i'm not being very interesting right now, i don't feel very well at all, so too bad.
i've made two trips to the emergency room in 24 hours, and it feels fan-fucking-tastic.|
Tuesday, March 13, 2001 @ 07:41 p.m.
Remember this: we went to Remedy fairly early one night, and prowled Whyte Ave. looking for meat, because that was what Meghan said she wanted. When we examined the Remedy "menu", we asked the bartender, "does this have meat?" and Meghan explained, "I need some meat," and he said, "well, just step into the backroom..."|
I want to get a bunch of pictures of my friends doing fun, silly activities and holding cardboard signs that say "prolix.pitas.com". I think I might make this my summer project.
there are some days that just suck so much there's not much point in trying to interface with them. i don't have as many of these as i used to, but they still hit me from time to time. so, here's what you would do if you were me: put on thick ski socks, an old raggedy sweatshirt, and curl up in bed under three quilts with tori amos and an old copy of THE HOBBIT. (ps: tori amos doesn't actually have to be in the bed with you. if it's cheaper/easier, just play one of her CDs.)|
Someone im-ed me to tell me the storekeeper on The Simpsons is Abu. Thank you anonymous person: you rock my world.
oh yeah, something else? the weather outside is all grey and brown and i'm tired of being alone. oh, yeah, something else?
- i dropped off a credit card application at my bank over three weeks ago. so far they have failed to get one for me, although they have phoned me a billion times without leaving messages, left two messages giving a number that was out of service, and then given me a number that was hooked up permanently to someone's voicemail. when i finally got in touch with "manny," who reminds me of the storeowner on The Simpsons (I forget his name), he told me they need a photocopy of my admittance letter. In spite of the fact that I actually went over to the branch the other day and left them with a photocopy of my student ID card, which the woman at the desk assured me would be fine. Given that we live in a capitalist economy here, Scotiabank is NOT trying very hard to keep my business. Hmmm... surprising.
- Ralph Klein won the election and renamed Alberta "Ralphworld." What, are we a theme park now?
- I came home very hungry, only to find that we have zero food in my house. In my deepfreeze are four containers of wild rice (frozen solid), some mashed-up fruit, bread crumbs, and a lot of turkey soup. In the fridge: milk, half a lemon, and a disgusting amount of mozarella cheese. I mean, you're creative people, what can you make with that? Some kind of turkey-soup-cheese casserole, I guess. Anyway, I ate rice for lunch. Rice! Rice isn't a meal!
- I don't know why, but in spite of good budgeting and relatively responsible spending, I'm totally broke again. And additionally I'm getting guilt from my mother, who says it's not fair that I have no financial responsibilities and a lot of disposable income. I think it's not fair that all the jerks at my bank get paid more than me, that everyone gets paid more than me, while i do a job i hate; and meanwhile i get grief from my parents about how irresponsible i am. and conversely i'm tired of not having any money.
- i have a little ulcer in my mouth, and it hurts like the dickens and oozes blood every time i accidentally bite it, which i do every ten minutes. i know this seems like something outrageous i would make up to elicit sympathy from you, but the fact is that i never get any sympathy from you (remember?) and besides, it's true.
i love the song "follow me" by uncle cracker, because i am a huge loser.|
this afternoon: bored, i turned to the classifieds, and settled on a 3-bedroom downtown for $550 a month, and for a moment my mind wandered. does it have hardwood floors? (at $550 a month, probably not.) one bus-ride from the university. and... piles of dirty dishes... and no money... but moving out!
in linguistics, we were talking about affixes-- suffixes, which come after a base word, and prefixes, which come before. and infixes, which are inserted into a word, and of which there aren't any in english really. but then my prof suggested "fan-fucking-tastic," and pleaded with us: "you are native speakers! is this standard usage?" I think it is. Sometimes I say "fan-fucking-tastic," when i am feeling particularily acerbic. most of the class was laughing so hard at "phen-bloody-omenal" that we couldn't really decide.
I went to vote. It wasn't very exciting. I'm disappointed in democracy now and am officially an anarchist.
one year ago: "Beside the highway, an oil plant; its towers and pyramids of wire, hung with white christmas lights, its tall stacks spewing white smoke against a night sky. my father explains that the factory changes heavy oil into light oil, so it can be refined into gasoline; i half-listen; the rest of my neurons are gasping. it's so beautiful. a single flame licks the sky from the top of the tallest tower, and it reminds me of a statue; but it's not art, it's industry."
I have a lot of troubles. For one thing, I am trying to finangle a credit card out of my Extremely UnCooperative Bank TM, but unfortunately they are only open between 8.34 and 8.39 every morning. So every morning they phone me at 8.37-- approximately twenty minutes after I run, late, to the bus stop, spilling coffee on my pants and cursing--, and they never leave a message on my handy answering machine. They think, "Hmm... well, she wasn't home at 8.37 yesterday, and she wasn't home at 8.37 today... I'll just try again at 8.37 tomorrow." Because of this, I have no shirts I like to wear at all, and so I have to go to school in my underwear, and I keep getting arrested.|
Another one of my troubles is that I spent last night at the Jubilee auditorium listening to my sister's violin concert and not doing homework, and so now I am behind and I will never catch up.
Some other miscellaneous troubles:
Question: what was the point of the second tiebreaker vote on Survivor? Given that everyone voted for EITHER Colby or Jeff in the first round of voting, and that neither of them voted for themselves, why have a second vote? I mean, I'm no math/logic/linear thinking genius, but... ARE YOU BASTARDS EVEN STUPIDER THAN ME?!?
- I am getting my hair cut next week and I'm afraid everyone will stop loving me. Do you think I'm pretty? Am I going to be less pretty with short hair? Do you even know what I look like? No, I didn't think so. Thanks anyway.
- My shoes are broken and I don't have any other shoes and I'm poor.
- Jerri didn't get voted off on Survivor. I tried, I really did. During the Tribal Council, I shouted, "Vote for Jerri, spawn of Satan!" and they obtusely ignored me. So, this whole Jeff being voted off thing is not my fault. I did my best.
Robert Munsch is cool. From an interview in today's Journal:|
Do you consider yourself a big kid?
No. I just take kids seriously.
I biult a SimCity of 8,000,000 people, they got bored of it and exited without saving. It was called "La Culpa," which is Spanish for, "The Guilt". The thing is that if you say it out loud, it sounds so pretty. La Culpa, the city by the sea. It had a posh suburb called El Barrio Rico, The Rich neighbourhood (although my dad tells me that in S. America the word "barrio" is usually used more in reference to a slum. Is this true in Spain too?)|
If I had a house I would name it, "La Casa de Culpa," the house of guilt. Then I would try to make my children become doctors.
I woke up this morning completely of my own accord, and when I looked at my alarm clock, it was about to go off-- literally seconds later. I turned it off, sighed a sigh of sweet relief, and said, "perhaps i have caught up on my sleep at last."
Alex gave me some beauty advice: "Is there any way you could make your hair any less... big?"|
I think I really will cut my hair short, though. And maybe go blonde-- a summery shade.
ALEX: "You got some good comments."
JOCELYN: "Good comments?"
ALEX: "Yeah, good comments."
JOCELYN: "What kind of good comments? Good comments from who?"
ALEX: "I can't tell you! Guys."
I didn't realize this was some kind of pageant, or I would have worn my tiara and my slinky pink dress and my banner that says "Miss Rhode Island"!
Every springtime, I start to miss her. The spring came violently to Toronto, leaving the whole city covered with a layer of grime and grey slush; i remember that much. It couldn't get warm enough fast enough for us. We never wore enough clothes in the springtime.
one year ago: "long after love is gone you miss the small things, until eventually that's all you remember. was it raining? was it cold? the days swam around us and we, oblivious, thought: we will live forever... i don't remember you as hard as i used to. there's less necessity; i am under less pressure. you know i'm someone else, living somewhere else; but sometimes, when i catch sight of the sun coming up over a hill and think of mt. pleasant; when i catch the smell of mandarin oranges and deisel; with the rocking of a subway car; i remember, and i miss you. the small things. the big things. i don't need you anymore, but that doesn't stop me from wanting."
Meghan came to my history class with me, and she and Becky and I sat together, and I watched her write random phrases from the lecture on World War I on her paper: "industrial machine," "tank technology," and "imperial agendas are the prettiest agendas of all". I wrote, "isn't that guy cute?" (referring to the guy I'm in love with who sits in front of me) and she wrote back "yes. he looks smart" and that made me feel better. I like it when Meghan validates my crushes.
That's what happened to me today. what happened to you? You can WIN EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME!
I go canoeing. I eat pickles and buffalo meat. I don't form destructive relationships.|
I think we should all go on a road trip to Hunter's, this weird designer-clothing store in Battleford, SK., where everything is dirt-cheap. It has been going out of business for the past four years. We should eat at roadside fast-food restaurants and listen to music loud and once we get there, we should spend not very much money on a lot of stylish snowboarding clothes.
If no one heeds my advice I am going away again.
Friday, March 2, 2001 @ 02:43 p.m.
"i don't know if i'm the only one, but sometimes i get the feeling i'm crazy-- not cute-crazy, but genuinely crazy-- and every day of my life is an exercise in staying onboard the sane planet. but some days, & weeks, i'm close enough to the edge to get the nauseous buzz. it's exhilirating to stare over the edge. what scares me is that i totally get off on that feeling-- i always have. it's like being completely in love with my flawlessly hard-wired brain while wishing more than anything that i would be someone else."|
deletia: april 1998 - march 2001