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[oh boy! for me?]:

Wednesday, February 14, 2001 @ 05:11 p.m.

In history today we were talking about the history of the US from independence onwards. It amazes me, how arrogantly the US acts in the world-- from their acquisitions in the atlantic to their actions in panama to vietnam, much later-- i mean, how do they continue to do these kinds of things under a thin veil of altruism and GET AWAY WITH IT? Do ignorance and patriotism really make such a wide excuse?

i think this is a big part of the antagonism between the US and Canada, or rather, the hostility most Canadians feel for Americans (since I’m not sure America pays much attention to Canada at all). Until relatively recently, Canada was a colony itself, while the US was a colonial power-- still is, maybe, depending on how you regard Puerto Rico. America is a country built on individual liberty, but I think that liberty is often enjoyed at the expense of other people. I mean, I don't know, I could be wrong. I don't have a problem with Americans, but the way their government has acted and continues to act is appalling to me. I would be really interested to hear how other people respond to this, so please email me.

On another note: Today Cam and I were talking about how English is probably going to take over the world, the internet as its vehicle. I wonder if this was inevitable.

Owya: CDNOW shipped one of my CDs! Joy!


the one where i try to sell out, then realize The Man doesn't want me
Tuesday, February 13, 2001 @ 11:10 p.m.

This day was like the fucking odessey. I come home at the end of a long day like this and what I need is... protein. A big fat bowl of protein. With a glass of milk.

Tomorrow is Valentines day, but I'm trying not to think too hard about that. Question: would you rather be unhappily attached, or miserable and alone on valentines day? Those being the two options, as I see it. Oh, haha, I'm just kidding. I believe in love. Really!


DEANNA: I think I'll go work at Riverbend. It's so new and clean and crispy.
JOCELYN: Crispy?
HETTIE: Yeah, and Lynnwood is crusty.


JOCELYN: So I think we should open a crispy store.
DAD: "The Crispy Store: we put the snap, crackle and pop back in service."
JOCELYN: That guy is really splashy.
DAD: He should work for the splashy store. "The splashy store: we're all wet."
JOCELYN: "The splashy store: we're so splashy, we can hardly stand it."

OK, well, maybe you had to be there.

My Seamonkeys are splashy, too! They splash around in a tiny brine shrimpy kind of way and make me very happy. Sabina says they are "gross". Lorene doesn't believe theiy exist. Deanna frets about someone knocking over their ocean zoo. We brainstormed warning posters:
JOCELYN: "If you knock this tank over, you will have hundreds of Sea Monkey lives on your conscience"
DEANNA: "If you knock this over, we'll make you eat them"

We tried to impress Barry with our SeaMonkeys.
JOCELYN: I wonder if Seamonkeys are afraid of the dark?
DEANNA: I don't know. Probably not.
JOCELYN: Their brains probably can't process the ideas of light and dark.
DEANNA: Their brains aren't big enough. We have to wait until they look like that (points to Seamonkeys poster, with totally UnSeaMonkey-like creatures painted on it) Hey, Barry, did you know we have sea monkeys?
JOCELYN: They're really neat.
BARRY: uhhuh.

At the pool, there was a guy in my lane who looked a lot like Moby. He did a rather cowardly butterfly and coughed up a LOT of water.

Well, anyway, that's about it. I would assume tomorrow I will wake up and some cute guy will be in my bed with me-- which will freak me out, actually, because I think it would break if there were more than two people in it. It would crack in the middle and squish Mr. PotatoHead and Captain Longjohn and my Spanish dictionary and several of my plants. So, maybe I had better NOT hope for strange men in my bed. Besides, I'm a huge bitch in the morning.


Monday, February 12, 2001 @ 02:43 p.m.

I ordered some CDs (2 Wild Colonials CDs, a Tori Amos single, and an Elliot Smith single) from CDNOW, and now i check every ten minutes to see if my "order status" has changed. I will gladly pay $66 CDN for mail. Especially parcels.

I also ordered some CDs from Columbia House (The Counting Crows/Recovering the Satellites and Moby), which in spite of being the devil's mail-order society also has cheap CDs.

And, I went to Hard-Drive in search of the O Brother Where Art THou soundtrack, and they didn't have it. Ahem.


The Backstreet Boys: Dances With Chairs
Saturday, February 10, 2001 @ 12:46 p.m.

oh boy! the buffalo pita is back!

one year ago: "This morning on my way to school, and then AGAIN on my way home from downtown, there were guys who resembled Brian Littrell of the Backstreet Boys on my busses. VERY weird."

I know you guys don't care, but I'm happy because I bought new underwear today.


poetry is for dum-dum-heads
Friday, February 9, 2001 @ 10:21 p.m.

"They sailed to the Western sea, they did--
To a land all covered with trees;
And they bought and owl, and a useful cart,
And a pound of rice, and a cranberry tart,
And a hive of silvery bees;
And they bought a pig, and some green jackdaws,
And a lovely monkey with lollipop paws,
And seventeen bags of edelweiss tea,
And forty bottles of ring-bo-ree,
And no end of Stilton cheese."

-Edward Lear, The Jumblies


"Then did I check the tears of useless passion,
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish
Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?"

-Emily Brontë, Remembrance


no way. I ain't touchin' yo animal farm discussion, boy.

I wonder if this guy loves his girlfriend?


Wednesday, February 7, 2001 @ 10:31 p.m.

It's not cool for me to have spare time. It makes me lethargic and overfocused.

Know something interesting? I have a Linguistics midterm on Friday.

I have developed a new webcrush on this guy from Calgary who posted a most do-able girlboy list and runs a Canadian indie rock (sorta?) website. It's important to find a new man every week, mope over and then get over him, without ever NOTIFYING him. That's just the way i operate, baby.

One of my daily highlights: discussing the thrill of new SeaMonkeys with my manager Deanna, and how they never, ever change the ads in Archie comics: "if you ever wrote to one of those companies, the address would probably be a mall or a freeway or something." And then, Deanna promising to wait until 5 (when I get to work) tomorrow to add the Instant Life TM eggs. My work productivity will probably zero off altogether as I try to "train" the SeaMonkeys to do 'amazing tricks," sich as fixing the photocopier and cashing out these monstrous old tills.

ARP Loser moment: Exclaiming to a customer: "Before you only had one bill [a 20] and now you have three [5s]. Don't you feel richer?" Him staring blankly back at me.

note from the journal of wayward mobility: Creepy disembodied ELMO heads are not cool.


Wednesday, February 7, 2001 @ 01:28 p.m.

I just finished watching Simon Birch. I am inevitably disappointed in movie adaptations of John Irving books-- some of them are very good (like The Cider House Rules), but none capture the scope of the novel.

  1. The Oliver Platt character in that movie is such a hero.
  2. Is it just me, or was Jim Carrey a really odd choice for the adult narrator? I kept expecting him to start trying to be funny.
  3. The kid that played Simon Birch was pretty good as an actor, but he didn't look the least bit like what I would have expected. I guess the imagination is always a better casting director than reality-- after all, it would be pretty much impossible to find someone who actually looked like the Owen Meany of my imagination.

Well, anyway, I know I've thoroughly bored you now, but, well... NAZI U.F.O. NIGHTMARE! That's all I have to say really.


the one where i make a life-altering discovery
Tuesday, February 6, 2001 @ 09:31 p.m.

gentle deletia readers:
I have some very bad news. For some time now I have been posting to this website : writing haikus, bitching about my lovelife or lack thereof, posting the occasional deceptive picture, and just generally acting very girly. But in recent days it has become clear that I am not actually a girl at all: I'm something else, most likely a "man". I base this on the spark's gender test, which was fairly decisive, and a Weekly World News article about botched sex-change operations. The article included a helpful Top-10 list: "Ten signs you may be the wrong gender". Several of these were suggestive, but one was conclusive: "If you bathe the opposite way. Men generally prefer showers. Women prefer to pamper themselves with hot baths. Those that do the reverse may be due for a change." I know this is very upsetting for you, and I can assure you, it hasn't been an easy adjustment for me either. My only consolation is that now my hatred of high-heels is explained. I am really trying to base my new life around that, you know, focus on the positive.

Well, anyway, you heard it here first. I'm going to go fantasize about hot chicks now.


The concept of going into a room full of people who are sweating and inhaling their sweat while I'm painfully driving myself to exhaustion? I will not participate in that mass hysteria. -Salma Hayek, on excercise

I heard Marissa Tomei made her own dress. Oh. My. God. -Becky, imitating the Oscar fashion critics

That's not cool! -Me, after a weird customer shoved a National Enquirer photo of THE NEW ANTICHRIST in my face, demanding, "look at this!"

The most interesting and enjoyable treat in the film was the sweet and satisfying crunch of a Johnny Depp bar, packed with pleasure in every bite, with hints of a wonderful raspberry nougat center. -the brunching shuttlecocks' review of chocolat


oh yes, one other thing. i know that deletia readers, as a whole, are above-average. i mean, i'm above-average, you're above average, it's all just good form. and among you are probably a few above-average-in-terms-of-attractiveness, mixtape-making guys (preferably without tight pants or stupid hair). i mean, do i sound too picky? try to get at my above-average genes and be my valentine, bitch! (don't be turned off by the fact that i'm actually a man.) i should make some kind of application form... preferably one with a lot of multiple-choice questions and no essays, because i don't want to eliminate those with short attention spans.


do i care? i don't think i do
Tuesday, February 6, 2001 @ 03:48 p.m.

you are in my blood like holy wine
so bitter and so sweet
i could drink a case of you
and still be on my feet

three words/phrases i think we should all use a lot more:

  1. blissed. It's an adjective. If someone is blissed, they're really happy, obviously.
  2. ice. it's a verb.
  3. mad props. like "kudos," which is another good one, by the way. mad props to meghan, who made me the best mixtape ever.


Monday, February 5, 2001 @ 02:44 p.m.

[Jocelyn and Angie, imitating the sound (?) glow-in-the-dark condoms make: "whee-ee, whee-ee, whee-ee"
Jocelyn: "I don't know what that sound is."
Angie: "I don't know either. Why did we both make it?"

the spark's gender test told me I was a guy! This sucks!


Sunday, February 4, 2001 @ 06:01 p.m.

my parents are gone out to a party and they left me two bacon-stuffed mushrooms and microwave cookng instructions. i can't help feeling a little, well... pathetic.

okay, microserf. but what's the connection? Again we have proven that I will click on any Douglas Coupland reference, no matter how seemingly random. I like it, anyway. It has swing.


Sunday, February 4, 2001 @ 05:49 p.m.

I've had a very productive afternoon. I swam 2K @ Coronation, came home, talked to Meghan on the phone, and then cleaned out my top left dresser drawer of all the expired medications and expired condoms. (I didn't throw out the medications, because, as any good drugstore employee will tell you, you're not supposed to. I would assume because once in landfills, animals could take them and die, or grow extra breasts, or not get malaria.) Instead, I dumped them all into one pillbottle, on which I applied the friendly label "Taking Expired Medications Is NOT COOL." I begin to think of it as a sort of suicide cocktail-- two months' worth of oral contraceptives, old Benadryl (an anti-allergen), Zoloft (a selective seratonin reuptake inhibitor, like Prozac), Lariam (a brand of mefloquine, an anti-malarial), Tylenol, Adavan (perscription sleeping pills), and a few others I don't recognize offhand. So-- don't put too much pressure on me! I might down the whole bottle and-- well-- I probably wouldn't actually die, but bad hormonal-type things would happen.

I realize this isn't exactly everyone's definition of "productive," but I see Sundays' main goal as being to make me emotionally ready for the week.


Laugh Now! Cry Later! [deletia]
Saturday, February 3, 2001 @ 11:10 p.m.

"I have created a utopia, a world in which everything is written on index cards and no one is ever sad."

On the bus on the way home from work, the 4 was surprisingly packed. I got a seat by getting on near Meadowlark and riding it all the way around, to west ed., and then back to my house. The couple standing two molecules' width from my knees started kissing as we roared down 87th avenue, and i wasn't really sure what to do. i mean, they're REALLY close to me. i wasn't so much angry or jealous as much as really uncomfortable.

Kristan (my coworker) today shared with me her next sighted conquest: the mailman. Which seems strange because I have often observed how yummy our mailman is, but because of my (apparently) oddly-wired brain, I would never consider him as a dateable entity. You know? I mean, all considerations of appropriateness and attraction aside, how many DEs (dateable entities) did I come into contact with today? Dozens. And yet, I am single.

In the world of Guerilla Dating, everyone is a potential dateable unit. But I, in case you haven't guessed, am not prepared for life in the world of Guerilla Dating. I am not... a relationship unit, a free radical waiting for my next bonding experience. You know? I mean, everytime is the first time.

Mission Creep: A UN term introduced into basic Badley usage by my father. It means: being distracted from one's original goal by other activities, related or no. Like going to Safeway for ice cream and returning home with a full tank of gas, 2 movies from Blobkbuster, a signed Pritney Spears poster, a plaid raincoat, and a brochure for a returement residence. For example.

We now dread mission creep, my father especially. It designates the inefficient, the unnecessary, and the-- well-- the creepiness. It means wasting time, but not just that: wasting time by accident Quel horreur!

I am going to sleep now. I fear the concepts of Potential Dateable Units and mission creep will combine into a nightmare of-- what?-- a date with a stranger that just doesn't ever end, I suppose.


l < subversive > ?
boys [suck]

i've been
fucking imood
since march 1st, 2000!