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Wednesday, September 19, 2001 @ 02:56 p.m.
in chronological order, without stopping: asking (myself) important questions. starting to cry. not getting enough sleep. feeling myself drift back into illness. finishing the taming of the shrew, minus a single scene. carrying my box of kleenex to class with me like an amulet of protection. scanning crowds not sure whether i'm hoping or dreading. walking, through the rain. coming home to find my mother asleep on the couch. sitting inside, watching the rain. eating two chocolate chip cookies glued together with chocolate frosting. drinking skim milk. makingdinner goingtowork.
my backyard, which i can see from my kitchen window as i assemble more cookie-sandwiches, is overgrown but somehow charming. overgrown gardens are charming in the rain, because of the gentle mental suggestion that perhaps beatrix potter will emerge from the shrubbery and tell us a little story.
question: what do you most fear?
and... just because no one wants a morbid ending to today's post: what's your
pirate name? "Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!"
November 1927 - September 2001
Chances are, if you grew up in Canada within the last forty years, he touched your life too. He will be greatly missed.
what's that? i thought i heard you scream
one year ago: "maybe logic is some kind of alternate culture-- or a complex and so far unrewarding way to meet men. i always blame men for creating these kinds of interesting, diverting, but ultimately unrewarding parallel universes."
this reminds me of minnie driver in the big night: "They do that. Men. They make you think they have secrets they will tell."
remember the days?
"...military brass readied orders for the call-up of 35,000 reservists in what Bush said was a 'crusade' to 'defend freedom at any costs'.
-the Edmonton Journal
No fucking shit.
you ain't got nothin on me
i slept from 9.30 last night to 1.00 this afternoon, and i feel a little better, although not much. as it turns out, chocolate chip cookies are the miracle cure for the common cold, but you have to eat A LOT of them to make them take effect.
being sick is lonely.
psychoanalysis WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE!
[on Freud's use of free association in psychoanalysis]: "So I would say 'orange,' and you would say the first thing that comes to your mind-"
[on Carl Rogers, the guy who invented humanism]: "Doesn't he look like a nice guy? He IS a nice guy, and this is a nice theory!"
"I don't think I introduced myself... I'm Chris."
Stuff that is worth what I paid for it yesterday:
you know, butter is kind of salty
yesterday, when i got to work:
"well, i could try to change the water bottle in the water cooler... how hard could it be?"
1st class on tuesdays and thursdays isn't until 11 oclock = ROCK. I woke up early again though, this time with a bad dream.
Happy Birthday, Jeff.
School seems OK. About 24 hours after school starts, I inevitably forget what free time feels like. However, don't take the lack of updates as sign that I'm dead or something. I'm just... busy, I guess, is the word I'm looking for? I'm taking a full course load, working about 15 hours a week, teaching sunday school, and still trying to find time to eat and sleep and stuff. It's difficult but fun.
I think seafood alfredo is the orgasm of pastas.
I also think it's time for psych reading and chocolate cake. I love you!
even if you were broke-- my love don't cost a thing
i keep waking up at 7.30 and finding myself unable to get back to sleep-- as though my body remembers what time my classes started last year and can't quite get over it. so i got up, with high hopes of breakfast with my family-- just in time to see them for ten minutes before they headed out the door. it seems everyone is better at managing their sleep schedules than i am. there's nothing worse than passing a restless night (nightmares about my sunday school class, of all things) and then getting up when it's freezing cold inside.
i guess i might as well head over to the university and try to get at least a couple of my textbooks. but since i won't be home until late tonight, that means carrying them around with me the whole day... i don't know.
i have to go, i'm being boring.
"he is the swanniest swan of all"
my neighbour is outside on the sidewalk practising his golf swing
why should i have to go to work? i mean i just woke up... and hour... and a half ago. i slept for 11 hours last night. i think i might be so tired that if i just stayed in my bed forever, i could never catch up even still.
anyway, we're out of my favourite kind of cream cheese and my hair is an awkward length, so i think today might shape up to be a bad day.
don't make me go... i don't want to go.
hey, i'm having a breakdown online, just like mariah carey!
saying, "why can't that be me?"
Angie: the reason it's not a good idea to eat aquarium fish is because a lot of the chemicals and medications that we put in fishtanks to help keep the fish healthy are very UNhealthy for humans. For example, those little anti-algae pills a lot of people use in big tanks are poisonous for human people.
Fun fact of the day!
thoughts on the end of the world
my sister and i watched tomorrow never dies last night. a couple thoughts: one, why would you put judi dench and michelle yeoh in a movie together, and then not make them the stars? they should kill james bond, steal all his gear, and become an elite crimefighting duo. i think that would be much cooler than the james bond premise, which isn't as fresh as it used to be. second, james bond is kind of a psychopath, if you think about it. i mean yeah, he's witty and charming and suave and stylish and always well-dressed. but he has no concern for human life, not even of innocent people; he tries to sleep with every woman he sees but forms no lasting relationships (except with moneypenney); and he has systematically destroyed every car Q has made for him, from the first lovely aston-martin to those newfangled BMWs. one last complaint: can anyone say "obvious product placement"? it's embarrassing!
Well, other than watching james bond movies and working, i haven't been doing a hell of a lot. my dad came back from kenya bringing two contributions to my drink collection: a tiny 200-mL can of Coke from Kenya Airways, and a can of genuine Tusker beer. (I collect condiments and drinks in neat packaging: hot sauce from Alex's trip to Honduras, glass bottles of Coke and Pepsi from Cam's trip to PEI, Arabic Sprite from my own African adventure...) And I've been mentally preparing myself for school starting, of course. I'm thrilled to be going back because it means I can work less and spend less money on entertaining my sorry self.
I'm not allowed to watch THE CIDER HOUSE RULES until I clean my bathroom, and I don't want to clean my bathroom, so I'm here instead, updating my mostly-dormant website. I go through phases where I think of brilliant things to say every ten minutes and phases where I think of brilliant things to say once a week (or else everything I think of is too personal to post); don't worry, I'm sure I'll be back.
You should go see COCKTAILS AT PAM'S and MOVING ALONG, two Fringe plays that got held over; I think they're both at the Varscona and both really, really great. Also, belinis are on special at Earl's today. So I think I should go.
i used to be a superhero/i would swoop down and save me from myself
when i was small, i was afraid of being alone. i would always go to sleep with the door partly open, so i could fall asleep to the sound of my parents' late-night discussions (which were inevitably way over my head) or my little sister's crying. today i don't think i'm afraid of being alone anymore.
Picture the world past your head
The book The Cider House Rules made me pro-choice. In his memoir MY MOVIE BUSINESS John Irving writes about the didactic novel process and what prompted him to write the book in the first place:
i'm sorry, but i can't really think of anything to say. i would much rather talk to you on the phone, or meet for coffee.
O.T.Q.: out of the question
check out this picture of me that meghan took. i'm like, "yeah, you know. you know you know."
we went to a couple fringe plays and watched half a james bond movie and ate pizza and i'm actually going to bed before midnight... which is weird.
everything was going so good, i thought something badmighthappen
all in a dream, all... in a dream
i have a 25-volume mixtape anthology i've been working on for about four years. periodically i add songs to the most recent tape. yesterday i started listening to the whole thing in chronological order-- from s club 7 to gloria gaynor to bruce cockburn to tavares in four steps-- it's brilliant, i'm telling you. a bit of a trip dow memory lane... "i used to like that candlebox song?"
actually i still like that candlebox song.
i wish i had some japanese food.
"WHAT DIGNITY?!? MY ASS!"
had i the heavens' embroidered cloths,
i've been reading girl/boy again. I shouldn't; it breaks my heart. Why is everyone so lonely? What's wrong with us that we all want the same things and never find them? (also good for unrequited love: crush.nu)
good for quirky home accents: uncommon goods
good for hours of obsessive entertainment: inpassing
good for me: sunshine, liquid night, three drinks to take the edge off, earlymorning emptyroads, giant lecture theatres, not missing the bus, talking on the phone, giving my dog a bath, catch-22, and those crazy aztecs.
i've been searching for a girl/with bobby socks and a ponytail...
It's Monday night, much too hot to sleep. As I write this, the room is completely dark except for the glow of the screen, I can see moths flutter against the monitor.
Meghan and I went to see THE OTHERS and it scared the shit out of me. Scary movies stress me out. It's not funny.
WE DO THAT
-the Hamburger Game makes us hateful and mean
give me a blue rain give me a black sky give me your green eyes/give me your white skin, give me your white skin...
Guide to Canadian culture for international students
"Social relationships between men and women are usually very informal. Women have great freedom in the way they dress but the way a woman dresses has little to do with her moral standards."
That is a rather helpful thing to know if you are an international student, I should think.
i am about to miss my bus
"i'm sure you just make mistakes like that because you're thinking about other things."
did you know: you can't send royal jelly to Botswana?
stay wild, soul child
tonight i stood outside and breathed in that deep rich spring smell of cold and earth and growth;; i turned on the back deck while toby pondered me; and i thought, right now, that moment-- clouds racing against a navy sky, dizziness-- that moment and those immediately following and those following that one-- i want every moment to be the final destination of courage and the ultimate meaning of my life.