My comments are thoughtfully provided by enetation
On the bus on the way to school yesterday, there was a man walking down the sidewalk dressed like Sherlock Holmes. It was weird, I tell ya. He even had the fancy suit and one of those plaid hats... you know... those plaid hats (?) And I think he had a pipe although I may have imagined that. All around him were caffienated university students in sweatpants.
And today, walking up the stairs in the tory building after my second-last exam, there was sitting in the middle of the landing, a coffee table made out of pieces of toast. The legs were maybe 15 pieces of toast tall, and the tabletop was about 8 pieces square, or so. It was pretty big. I think the pieces were held together with peanut butter, or maybe wheat germ. It was pretty weird, anyway. My first thought was that it's sort of sad that, on a planet where people starve to death every day, the University of Alberta is using toast as a construction material. Well, actually, I think my first thought was, "hey... is that TOAST? Dude!
It's been a weird couple days.
I bet the Sherlock Holmes guy put the toast-table there. He probably uses it for making deductions.
Yesterday and today both I went to the classroom where my class usually is, and waited around for a long time, only to remember at the last minute that the exam is somewhere else entirely. This brings me to the basement of the business building, where I am now, to look up my exam schedule. The exam is over in Tory, in 12 minutes. See you cats later.
My dog's tail wags while he's sleeping. He must be dreaming of particularly stupid squirrels. Or girl dogs.
My comments are broken. Or, in my Gollum voice: my commentses. I don't know how to fix broken things. I only know how to break things.
I might not've failed that final.
If you know what she wants, you'd be giving it to her. I have nothing else to say, really. I can hardly muster the enthusiasm for puctuation
I'll only weigh you down
I need some cool, hipster internet-literati friends I can hang out with on weeknights. We'll all go to bars and drink martinis and take "wacky" (not wacky, but "wacky") pictures with out iZone cameras and then the next day we'll all write about it on our weblogs. Not to complain about the friends I have now because they all use their powers for good (that doesn't mean anything more than what you think it means). They're just not internet-literati. I don't want to replace, only supplement. I'm not very trendy, I'm afraid.
Signs I am not very trendy:
Also I want a madcap room-mate, preferably from a foreign country, with a heart of gold. We would be like the two guys from Perfect Strangers only, obviously, I am a girl, and my life is not an amusing sitcom but rather a devestatingly dull series of self-evident revelations.
I have recently come to grips with the fact that I am going to fail EAS because I am a miserable faily-girl who fails things. It's better this way because I don't get my hopes up too much. And if I do manage to squeeze out a 4 in the class it will feel like a victory rather than, say, the shittiest possible passing mark.
i'm so sick of consequences
My bathroom is now a bright orange colour. The shower has glass doors and the fixtures are silver! It is like the kind of shower cool space-people have in SPACE! That's right, SPACE!
In the next three days I have four finals. That is not kosher. I don't anticipate being very witty or interesting during that time. Next weekend I anticipate drinking margaritas, because it is spring, dammit. I can make it spring using my powerful roving pirate queen mind-force.
And if so, do you have any powers?
James and I went to see Paradise City tonight. It's a musical featuring the adapted works of Guns 'n' Roses. You should really go see it if you live in Edmonton, Internet, because it is awesome. In fact I am making it part of the axis of awesome.
The other members of the axis of awesome are:
good Chinese food and cuba libres on special, because i am thrifty although i am not a drunk.
Would you let me go?
me: "I don't know why some kinds of fruit, like strawberries, taste good, and other kinds, like apples, are so boring."
They cancelled Simpsons again. My song about the situation, to be sung to the tune of Travis' Why does it always rain on me? (which happened to be on my MP3 player at that moment)
Why do they always cancel Simpsons?
You can always be an astronaut
You know what I love? When I click on a link someone left in my guestbook and it launches 8 million porn windows. I love that. Because it's so difficult to find porn on the internet.
I got a job! Thanks Meghan! Meghan is like my agent.
I'm reading Jorge Luis Borges' Ficciones. He's pretty incredible. Last night was the first time in literally months that sat down and read something for fun.
"One of the schools in Tlon has reached the point of denying time. It reasons that the present is undefined, that the future has no other reality than as present hope, and that the past is no more than a present memory. Another school declares that the whole of time has already happened and that our life is a vague memory or dim reflection, doubtless false and fragmented, of an irrevocable process. Another school has it that the history of the universe, which contains the history of our lives and the most tenuous details of them, is the handwriting produced by a minor god in order to communicate with a demon."
It's sunny! I'm going to stand in the sun!
And on the day the words "flimsy excuse" were refined, we stood in awe and watched.
It would be the first time
Would you hire me?
I think it's the rock star hair. I don't look like I could contribute anything meaningful, to anything.
tryin' to find enlightenment, or oriental concumbines at least...
"There may not be marriage. There may not be sex. But by God, there'll be dancing!" -Rupert Everett in My Best Friend's Wedding
During the summer I become this scary, uncool version of myself who watches TV all the time. I'm so placid. Normally I take my responsibilities as an entertainment consumer pretty seriously, but not anymore. I need a job, badly.
nobody hates sushi plates
I went to the pool today, and swam 1km. There are dirty old men there and I bet if you get close enough to them they smell like mildew and soggy cotton boxer shorts and custard.
I smell like chlorine-- like little children's birthday parties. It's such a clean smell.
I want someone to take me out and get me drunk. But that doesn't seem like it's going to happen, so instead I am going to devote the next three days to making as much money as I possibly can. This is the motivating power of capitalism that everyone is always telling me about. I will rise from the ranks of the lazy, who have few possessions. I will become a newer, better version of myself.
Simpsons is continually being cancelled for the war in Iraq, or playoff hockey, and it makes me terribly depressed.
Another thing that makes me terribly depressed: apparently John Cusack and Meg Ryan are dating now. I would like to know why Meg Ryan gets to date every single single guy I like, pretty much, just on the basis of being so fucking adorable with her adorable little hair. Well, fuck off, Meg Ryan and people who cancel Simpsons and dirty old men from the pool. I don't need any of you losers.
Because I'm the pushy queen of SlutTown
James brought my attention to the website nationstates.net, which lets you design your own country and make policy decisions that affect its operations. My country is named UglyTexas (after a line from an Elvis Costello song) and it is a Scandanavian Liberal Paradise, which should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me.
The sad part is that my country's economy sucks Donald Trump for bus money and then walks home. I've been attempting to make more right-wing policy decisions to resurrect it. Besides being the pushy queen of SlutTown, I am also like Lenin. UglyTexas has its own New Economic Policy now!
All I have left in the semester is to study for finals, and then write finals. I want to do things with people. Email me!
I have an unholy love for Missy Elliot.
and you say I never update
The U of A English department message from the chair. Is it a joke, or is it just lame? It's difficult to say. The difference between humour and lame is a fine line, I've noticed.
you were the catch that I was after
If I ever decide to open a bookstore specializing in erotica, I am going to call it "between the covers."
I'm a cowgirl! ask me how!
I was thinking today how weird it is, what we're expected to eat. I get so tired of being asked if I want to supersize everything, but I also want to slap these little 90-pound girls picking at their salads like birds with allergies. Torn between overconsumption and underconsumption.
They don't have cowboys in Europe. It's weird. Think about it.
Lots of things are weird today. That's all I have to say, really. Oh: Spring!
Or party like it's 1999!
I'm finished all my term papers. I WIN!
I think Mr. Liver needs a drink.
I've had a headache for, like, 3 days. But now I am prepared to be kind and friendly again, because, as I may have mentioned, I'm finished all my term papers.
And I win.
Sorry I'm so boring. Look at that picture of me, though. I'm so cute and sleepy! I was always told that if I was cute I wouldn't have to be interesting. I demand my money back.
Oz: "You'll date any girl who can walk and talk."
What's so amazing about really deep thoughts?
roving pirate queen, emphasis on the roving
Does it ever occur to you that everyone we meet, whether we are close to them or not, is a stranger? We can never really know anything about anyone else's inner life. All we know about them are the things they tell us, combined with the way they act. That doesn't mean shit. The things I tell people are insignificant and trivial. If they were important then obviously I wouldn't go telling other people, would I?
We all assume that everyone else is more or less like us but really they aren't.
So you see, there's no answer but to feel lonely.
I'm having a shitty, shitty day. I had designer iced tea and jelly beans for breakfast. I have a hangover. And I am never going home.
Married to the sea, (and by sea I mean bus),
party, like it's your birthday
Two friends of deletiaTM have birthdays today: the morbid-yet-lovely Courtney, and the Best Boyfriend in the World, James. Happy birthday to you both. If you could see me, I am doing the happy dance right now.
The happy dance. the happy dance. we love to do the happy dance.
you know what a fool i am, with my short attention span
Lately I have this really strong sense that my life is becoming very cinematic, only, like, not in a good way. I continually imagine the opening sequence for the movie that is my life. It's a montage of shots of me. In every one I'm in unflattering light, on public transportation, listening to my walkman. I look bored, even anti-social. There's melancholic Counting Crows music playing overtop. And the audience watching the movie of my life is already fidgeting, like, is the whole movie going to be like this?
How the hell should I know?
i really have no idea.
I have written three papers now and have only one left. Only one of them was really bad. I rock. Yes I do. Soon the semester will be over and then I will be unemployed still, but at least I will be able to sleep in.
My film professor explained to us today the process of tracing the themes of modernism, neo-classicism and post-modernism through the Rocky movies. "You may require sedation or large quanities of alcohol to accompany you on that journey..."
exit pursued by a bear
When in Rome, do as the Romans do
Term paper. Yes.