"Three or four wenches cried, 'Alas, good soul' and forgave him with all their hearts; but there's no heed to be taken in them; if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less." -Julius Caesar I.ii.271-275
let's go, let's go, let's go
Monday, January 27, 2003 @ 06:07 p.m.
Rule #1: easier does not necessarily mean better. Not when it comes to girls, and not in life in general.
Rule #2: I get to arbitrarily make up rules, which everyone has to follow; or at least, I have to follow them, and I can use them to justify inappropriate behaviour to others.
Rule #3: The customer is NOT ALWAYS RIGHT!
My father's school (where he works) has a rule against sarcasm. Seriously. It's "Unchristian." Sometimes it seems to me that other people make up rules as aribtrarily as I do, but they tell them Jesus told them to do it, so they get off scot-free.
James: "They're in collusion!"
Jocelyn: "You're just using big words to win my approbation."
Finally, a cryptic message written on the inside of the bus stop across the street from my house:
i want you first, i want you first
Monday, January 27, 2003 @ 03:46 p.m.
James gave me a walkman ("disruptive technologies!") for my birthday towards the end of last December, and since then I haven't changed the batteries. I must've gotten about 30 hours of music out of one set of AA batteries. It's great, but also bordering on bizarre.
I'm having fun making mixtapes for other nervous people. I love making mixtapes with Canadian music. It makes me feel so proud of this huge, cold country which has produced such strange people.
I'm so, so boring.
so I try to write haiku
but it doesn't help
Dude! Here we are now, entertain us!
you're my favourite flavour
Saturday, January 25, 2003 @ 04:52 p.m.
"We are in God's Lego set and we cannot see the big picture. He could have made another civilization in the living room while we are upstairs, or even at his neighbours house. Carl [Sagan] wanted us to face the questions of what we would do if we found aliens and how it would change our lives and he did a good job of it." -one of my dad's students' review of the movie CONTACT
I like the idea of being part of God's Lego set even if the second half of the explanation (about being at his neighbours house) is a mystery to me. I'm a tiny Joce minifig in the big plastic bin of the universe. Check it out, my head spins! And I have interchangeable hair!
I have gone marking the atlas of your body with crosses of fire.
My mouth went across: a spider, trying to hide.
In you, behind you, timid, driven by thirst.
-Pablo Neruda, I Have Gone Marking
Guess who knows the French word for "donut"? PHIL!
sometimes you feel there is no fun, so you turn and run
Thursday, January 23, 2003 @ 09:12 p.m.
We went to my FMS 312 lab (me, and James, because I don't like to watch movies alone) and it was fantastic. My Darling Clementine, from 1946, starring a young and very cute Henry Fonda. When I came home I put on my cowboy hat, which I haven't worn since last summer, to celebrate one of the great American cultural myths. Incidentally, my hat comes from the Gap, and I told me mom, "It's not cowboy... it's more nouveau cowboy." Shoot me.
Based on that brief account, you would conclude that I am having a very good day, and you would be partly right. However, I'm sad to say that the milk in our fridge has all gone bad, and I am eating chocolate chips with no milk, and it's a major disappointment. Could someone courier me some milk in order to make me feel loved and important?
*I rock out to Elvis Costello*
if we're going to play dirty, i'm going to win
Tuesday, January 21, 2003 @ 08:48 p.m.
"I got a question to axe you. While you out there lookin' for UFOs, who lookin' after YO' BABY?" -Mark Meer as member of Maury audience
Lately I've been randomly associating everyday acts with "letting the terrorists win," in a disrespectful-bordering-on-inappropriate set of jokes that only seem to get funnier. For example, last night at dinner: "If I don't finish my cake, I'm letting the terrorists win." Or: "If you don't answer the phone, you're letting the terrorists win." It's a very flexible and offensive joke, and I like it.
Now I have to go. If I don't walk my dog tonight, I'm letting the terrorists win.
It's -34ªC here. It's really, really not that cool or summery. Also: that's not a real degrees symbol, I was just too lazy to find a proper one. I hereby name that unit "ass-degrees," which can only be used when it is very very cold- bronchiole-crunching cold.
a strange fascination draws her closer to him!
Monday, January 20, 2003 @ 03:16 p.m.
What's the French word for "donut"?
You don't know, do you? Me neither.
Deletia: Asking the Important Questions since 1997.TM
I was involved in a psychological study today, which they paid me $20 be in. More than the money, though, my motivation was personal. I love participating in studies as long as they don't involve invasive medical procedures. There are two reasons for this. First, I love talking about myself but seldom find anyone who's interested; second, if there are going to be generalizations made about society, I would like to be part of the calculations. I hate being left out of averages.
Besides: this study was about spelling, and my spelling is exemplary, e-x-e-m-p-l-a-r-y. I was particularly pleased with my spelling of "irascible." (i-r-a-s-c-i-b-l-e, OK I'm stopping)
we can't rewind, we've gone too far
Sunday, January 19, 2003 @ 08:17 p.m.
My dad: "Do you ever think we've raised our kids to be too irreverent?"
My mom: "I'm as happy as a pig in shit with how we've raised our kids."
There you have it, folks.
I'm a bloodsucking fiend. Look at my outfit!
Sunday, January 19, 2003 @ 06:29 p.m.
"It was like fun, only boring."
I have the beginnings of a cold. Every time I get lots of sleep it goes into remission, but then when I miss a couple of hours here and there it comes back, much like herpes only in cold format.
The past 48 hours in brief: Julius Caesar - more improv than the human body can handle - Buffy reruns (season III! Thanks Courtney!) - houseguests - other kinds of guests - James getting his way - not enough sleep - The Secret Garden - work! - mah jongg - Scrabble - insufficient email - too many timbits ("ti many toombits" as witty Canadian variation on "ti many martoonies"-- non-Canadian readers click here) - loss - walking my dog in the fresh, snowy luminescent twilight - using the phrase "fresh snowy luminescent twilight" - wishing I could be new
here they come now, Chelsea girls
Saturday, January 18, 2003 @ 05:01 p.m.
Can you spare me a moment of complete seriousness?
I have this idea which I hold somewhat dear that I am a sort of exceptional person. Not in a creepy, "I can kill people" Raskolnikov way, but an inner sense that I might be above average. But it strikes me sometimes that the only reason I can go on thinking this is that I never really try at the things that matter the most to me, and as long as I don't risk failure I can never really succeed. Or, I can keep on thinking it as long as I don't have to prove it to anyone.
It's why I don't dare to want a particular job badly; why no one ever reads what I write; why I don't try hard at school. It's because I know I might not be as cool as I think I am.
I know it sounds like a terrible cliché, but it's absolutely true.
Top 10 Musical Crimes Perpetuated by Me
Friday, January 17, 2003 @ 03:53 p.m.
in no particular order:
7th grade: liking the song I Swear by All-4-one, and sulking at school dances because the boy I liked didn't want to dance with me when it came on.
early childhood: THE NYLONS.
recently: the theme songs from children's TV shows ("Me, and you, and Zaboomafoo!" and "Blue's Clues")
last night: rowdy rendition of the Corb Lund Band's Time To Switch to Whisky
Bon Jovi's Crossroads and These Days albums
Every Wave single every released
All the lyrics to all the songs from the Buffy musical
Claiming to be "J-Bad from the Block" ("Well, maybe not the block, but a block")
Bryan Adams: "Everything I do"
The Friends theme song
Hey, when I said total disclosure, I wasn't kidding you know!
There is no title cool enough
Thursday, January 16, 2003 @ 03:38 p.m.
"Because no one in the history of movies has been a hero with muttonchop whiskers." -my FMS prof
And I challenge you to dispute it.
I'm so, so hungry. I'm one of those university students from urban myths who try to live on Mr. Noodles and die of malnutrition with a GPA of 8.6 (only without the GPA). It's tragic, albeit not on the same scale as some other things which are tragic.
I've noticed that I tend to sound like I'm being sarcastic or ironic, or both, when really I'm being neither. this is a strictly modern problem, and there must be some pill I could take.
And Neil Diamond is our God
Thursday, January 16, 2003 @ 09:10 a.m.
I take new medicine, and it makes me sick in a whole NEW way. I feel like I'm going to fall over, or throw up, or just fall asleep, but it's better than before. I feel like there are little bugs running around in the insides of my bones, screaming. Perhaps this is not a good thing.
Becky and I are inventing a cult. We're going to do genetic experiments, adopt new cult names for ourselves (I'm Sunshine Pancakes), use the book of Revelation as our jumping-off point, and keep track of which Kool-Aid is which. (What's the point of being the head of a cult if you don't get to know where the poison is?) Also I think there will be a compound, with an electric fence. I love the word "compound." It sounds like chemistry.
You drive me crazy, but it feels alright.
the sun sets on the war
Wednesday, January 15, 2003 @ 02:08 p.m.
I affixed little pieces of Velcro to the backs of Scrabble letters, and now I can spell things on my shirt (which has a velcro panel on it). Today I wore "BOYS LIE" (12 points). Tomorrow it will be something new, or maybe just a different shirt.
inventions humanity can be proud of
Tuesday, January 14, 2003 @ 08:15 p.m.
The chocolate "pocket" in the bottom of a Drumstick that keeps the ice cream from melting out the bottom of the waffle cone.
Drive-through bank machines. (For that matter, bank machines, although the drive-through ones impress me more.)
Q-tips (good for applying vaseline to hard-to-reach-places-- it must be winter in Canada)
Gel-pens; crossword puzzles
pizza with broccoli (well, technically God invented broccoli, but humans were the ones who put it all together)
I love: all the internet people who interact with me, my new classes except for EAS, the university of alberta's multiple online services, nervousness mail, and James. Also, pink and orange, but mostly pink and orange together.
gone to soldiers, everyone
Monday, January 13, 2003 @ 05:58 p.m.
Say, did the guy who used to host Family Feud die? I watched it today for 5.6 seconds and there was a new guy, who looked more or less the same only younger. Perhaps it was just a really old re-run.
I am taking a science class this semester on Violent Weather (earth and atmospheric sciences 202), and it's bringing those good ole insecurities to the surface. I'm not a stupid person, but I can make myself feel like one at the mention of words like "isobar," "stratosphere," or for that matter "m2". I sit in this huge lecture theatre and feel like I am alone in the universe, alienated from the rest of humanity, because I hate science classes and I am bad at it and 95% of the time, I don't care.
It's not a happy feeling, no, not at all.
On the other hand, maybe he is Cuban.
Thursday, January 9, 2003 @ 11:55 p.m.
I've just finished reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Of Love And Other Demons, and like every Marquez book it makes me wish I belonged to some decaying aristocratic family living in a delapidated mansion in a mosquito-infested port in post-colonial South America. This is a silly thing for a modern girl like me to wish for, but then, practicality is not in my contract.
It should also be noted that I am very susceptible to suggestions made by films and literature. Catch Me If You Can made me want to be a con-man (or a flight attendant); every Stephen Leacock book makes me wish I lived in a charming small town; a number of Hollywood movies have made me think I should become a stripper or a prostitute or an escort. The only exception to this tendency is the book INTO THIN AIR, which did not make me want to climb Everest; in fact, I was then and still am of the opinion that climbing dangerous mountains for no particular reason is a stupid task that would only be undertaken by men, who lack reason and replace it instead with longing and logic.
In my Shakespeare class we are reading Troilus and Cressida. I can't say I really understand it. I'm going to assure myself that it's one of the "Problem Plays," with two capital 'p's. The university campus feels like a very lonely place these days, and I'm not sure why, but it has something to do with the wind outside, which blows smaller people over.
Valentines day is coming up, and I find the prospect discouraging, although I may actually have a happy one this year, for the first time since elementary school (when, like everone else, I got a brown paper bag full of indiscriminate valentines, some with my name spelled wrong by imaginative parents; Jocelyn is a weirder name than you might think). Valentines day is a depressing holiday, and I'm sticking to that story. I might go to a movie by myself just to make it hurt, because it feels like it should hurt.
I can not have told you the truth, even by accident.
I accidentally posted this and then archived immediately. Silly me. Also, I'm inconsistent in how I mark the titles of things. Have you noticed? I just do it to be tricksy.