it means everything that has been erased

A black figure in a velvet mask and hood and cloak disappeared behind a tree. "The cold Duke's spy-in-chief," the traveler said, "a man named Whisper. Tomorrow he will die. He'll die because, to name your sins, he'll have to mention mittens. I leave at once for other hands, since I have mentioned mittens. You'll never live to wed his neice. You'll only die to feed his geese. Goodbye, good night, and sorry."
-James Thurber, The Thirteen Clocks

fun! free! nutritious!
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email: jocelynb at shaw dot ca

take a moment, take 100 years
Thursday, October 24, 2002 @ 08:11 p.m.

Hey, do you guys think I should start cutting my own hair? Haha, your opinions is as usual insignificant, because I already did! Wooo! You should call me or email me and ask me out for a drink and give me your opinion. I decided, if Paz Vega can pull it off, then dammit, so can I.

Well, OK, so Paz Vega and I have nothing in common besides our shaggy hair. She's a beautiful Spanish actress; I'm a roving pirate queen. Who knows how to say "actress" in Spanish. And has a bracelet that says "roving pirate queen."

Yes, I think we all know who is winning.

Remy Shand is playing in Edmonton, and someone I like (I forget who) is opening for him, but it's at Red's. So much for that. That place gives me the shivers.

Deletia: quarterly financial report
Tuesday, October 22, 2002 @ 07:17 p.m.

I apologize for occupying so much space today, but you see, I'm inspired. I was thinking about Uber's request for money (see previous entry), and how $1 is so little-- even US$1. Well, it got me thinking. Check it out:

weekly visitors

bazillions of dollars

You see, if every unique deletia visitor over the last three months had made the paltry donation of $1,000, by now I would have 4 million dollars, more than enough to retire on. You miserly jerks.

hello, beautiful deletia peopleTM
Tuesday, October 22, 2002 @ 06:19 p.m.

If you're like me, the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning is check Michael Moore's Office of Homeland Security Alert Status. Today it's only vermillion, thank God. I know I'm not American, but let's face it-- if they're in danger, we're in danger. Because that's where we get all our TV. Not to mention all our wars!

And in other news, those nice people at with an umlaut are trying to raise some money for server costs, etc. I gave them $1 because those logical statements always work on me, for example, "if everyone would just donate $1 then we'd have $30,000 by the end of the week." Really what it should say is, "if all the people who actually do send in $1 when it's requested of them, send in $1, then by the end of the week, we'll have $1 from Jocelyn."


My other main activity of the day was signing up at, where you can get involved with mail art projects, some of them relatively normal and some of them downright out-there. Anyway, we all know I have Issues, and some of them are Mail Art Issues... This officially makes me a Nervous Person, which I am, anyway.

Oh, and I wrote a PoliSci paper and studied for my midterm and watched St. Elmo's Fire. My favourite line from that movie is when Demi Moore tells Rob Lowe: "I was afraid you would find out I wasn't fabulous," and he replies, "I was afraid you'd find out I'm irresponsible." Because, you see, ha ha... well, you'd just have to watch it. I mean, I'm not going to explain it to you, you loser.

Tomorrow on deletia: More Of The SameTM! Don't adjust your set!

i'm asking you to get it on with me (bah bah bah)
Tuesday, October 22, 2002 @ 10:32 a.m.


So. I rode the bus to school yesterday (much like the previous 435 days) and the entire bus was plastered, front to back, outside and in, with KFC advertising. Giant posters depicting hearty deep-fried starch value meals, big boxes of fries, and watery Coke. It made me feel kind of ill, and I tried to look out the window. I can't really handle fast-food advertising so early in the morning.

I'm looking for a job now, officially. I sing! I dance! I write my own HTML! I know about deus ex machina and Althusserian conceptions of ideology! I also speak bad Spanish! HIRE ME HIRE ME HIRE ME!

Once I perfect it, I am going to sing this song in interviews. I think it's sure to get me a job.

give 'em blood and they will love your forehead
Sunday, October 20, 2002 @ 01:30 p.m.

...and other misheard Matt Good lyrics

Man has to live how he can: overlooked and dwarfed he makes himself his own theatre. Is the drama inside heroic or pathological? Outward acts often have an inside magnitude. The short story, with its shorter span than the novel's, with its freedom from forced complexity, its possible lucidness, is able, like the poetic drama, to measure man by his aspirations and dreams and place him alone on that stage which, inwardly, every man is conscious of occupying alone.
-Elizabeth Bowen, Collected Stories

I think I have a lingering fear from junior high of being deemed uncool because I have a desire to participate in activities above and beyond what is necessary. I hereby vow to try to engage myself in events in the world at large, as part of a larger attempt to become a more interesting person. Perhaps I will volunteer my energies for projects. I may get involved in the lives of others although not, obviously, strange people I meet on the bus.

I may also play another game of solitaire and think about this some more.

Three good names for bands, and one animated classic
Thursday, October 17, 2002 @ 02:49 p.m.

  • Beauty and the Beat-- this, I should imagine, would be some kind of corny wedding-miriachi type affair
  • The Harm Principle (named, of course, after John Stuart Mill)-- death metal would probably be best
  • What I Did On My Summer Vacation-- SURF ROCK!

sexy beast

We watched Beauty and the Beast (yes, the Disney cartoon) today in my English 287 class. I couldn't help thinking that the Beast was actually kind of sexy, for a beast. I mean, he had nice eyes. And he wore fancy clothes. I wish he hadn't turned into a prince at the end. Although the look on Belle's face when she sees him is like, "Score! CHA-WING!"

The beast was better. Perhaps some of my prof's sweeping generalizations are actually true-- immature women ARE attracted to bad boys.

Also: that movie contains one of my favourite jokes, when they're touring the castle and the clock is giving Belle architectural details and he's like, "Like I always say: If it ain't Baroque, don't fix it!" That never gets old. I was laughing uproariously before I realized I was laughing alone. University students are so jaded.

We went to see SECRETARY yesterday, and I found it kind of uninteresting, if something uninteresting can make you feel vaguely uncomfortable. It wasn't terrible, but then, it wasn't great. This means that I like movies with three-way sex (That Spanish movie, Y Tu Mamá También) much better than ones with sadomasochistic sex (Secretary). I can feel good about that.

I would really like to read George Sand's book about her affair with Chopin (or some composer), but the LIBRARY DOESN'T HAVE IT. What kind of a city is this? I mean, am I living in Irkutsk, what? (I'm practising my obscure territory names for Wine & Risk tomorrow night.)

I'm listening to the Nirvana/Sonic Youth version of TWIST AND SHOUT, and I'm thinking about that scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off when he sings in the weird German parade and all of Chicago begins to dance. Someday there will be a moment like that in my life.

Found Poem: About Rossini
Wednesday, October 16, 2002 @ 08:46 a.m.

with their sparkling melodies
and farcical, racy situations.
He wrote quickly composing
as many as five major works in any given year
He wrote Barber of Seville
in thirteen days. In one
instance, when composing
while sitting up in bed he dropped
a page on the floor. Rather than
take the trouble to retrieve it from
under the bed he composed a new score.

Rossini moved to Paris in 1829
where he spent considerable time
eluding female friends who had
pursued him from Italy.
He was an acknowledged gourmet,
wrote & published a number of cookbooks,
put on considerable weight
and gave his name to that famous dish...
Tournedos Rossini.

-Century of Change

When I saw it I knew it was a poem... it just didn't know.

I just woke up from a dream in which I was in the US reviewing a circus for a magazine and I wandered into a Walmart looking for sequined underwear but instead found a hotel room with my father in it. So I visited with him and he happened to have The Edmonton Journal comics with him so I read them.

I feel tired now. Waking up from dreams always makes me tired, because I suddenly become conscious of how much I've been doing while asleep.

Did you have a good Canadian Turkey Day Weekend?

Someone found my site by searching on AOL for "front seat blow job." From the results page:

Phhht. I know where you can get the best deal, and it's not on the internet. (Hmm, OK, well, that was sufficiently cryptic)

are you having a wack attack?
Saturday, October 12, 2002 @ 10:31 a.m.

Meghan's anthropology prof's doctoral dissertation: "Monkeys... and the cute things they do"

Written on the board in my PoliSci class, advertising a free lecture: "Coming to know: orgasm and the epistemology of knowledge"

Xander, on basketball: "Tall hoops, but then, tall guys... what's the point?"

Excerpt from the new Constitution I've just written:

1a. Life, liberty, and good government
1b. Jocelyn, roving pirate queen, married to the seas, reserves the right to feel fine under whatever circumstances she deems appropriate
1c. Arrr!

Yesterday I met a very old man on the bus, who learned Italian in Italy during the War. In the evening I took Toby for a walk in the snow, and there was this incredible crisp smoky smell of new snow.

weblog schmeblog
Wednesday, October 9, 2002 @ 10:13 p.m.

Buenos dias!

We went shopping today at thrift stores, and I bought a fabulous shoppers drug mart smock and a red chair (cool everclear song: "thrift store chair." This chair is mind-blowingly cool. It is a rocking chair and it is covered with some kind of red veloury chair-covering.) On some level, this makes me adult, or at least adult-like, because I have begun Furniture Acquisition. Of course, this is not the ultimate indicator of adulthood, because I do better in other areas: Electronics Acquisition (fairly good: 1 bookshelf stereo, 1 old CD player, 3 broken walkmans or possibly walkmen), Adult Relationships, and of course that old standby Accumulation of Books You've Actually Read. So, as usual, this means I win.

Of course, my Job Acquisition skill set is still underdeveloped, which is why I attended a CaPS seminar on work search letters, this was not toally un-helpful. Perhaps in the near future I will attempt to Search for Work, and then I will really be able to put these skills to work. I'm just saying, stranger things have happened.

Another category I am excelling at these days: Personal Injury, with special points in the Scratching Hands on Furniture While Trying To Unload It From Hatchbacks, Stepping On Sharp Pieces of Glass and Bumping Head on Things subsets. Go Jocelyn! It's your birthday!

Someone I didn't even know came up to me in HUB and complimented me on my hairy yeti bag. Then I skipped two more classes and sat in HC in a daze, writing in my journal. "Nothing is ever enough."


PS. I could really use a floor lamp. My birthday is coming up (in less than 3 months@)
PS2. I added an eatonweb ratings thing to the top navigation thing (how do you like that clear, concise language?) You should rate me and rate me good. It's not going to stay forever, but at least for awhile, because I need to raise my eatonweb "cred." Until only moments ago my country was listed as the US. Which is weird, because I would never claim to be an American just to get people to read my website. Heh.

we'll see if we can get ourselves killed
Monday, October 7, 2002 @ 09:41 a.m.

I have just finished my English 206 paper, which has occupied much of my time and energy over the past three days. It's about Virginia Woolf. It has 1,929 words arranged tastefully in 13 paragraphs. I think it's gonna take the English 206 world by storm. Or, alternately, not. It's not the best paper I've written, but it's definitely not the worst.

Did you know that Virginia Woolf killed herself? She did. She drowned herself. She was also married. And she was a modernist writer, part of the "Bloomsbury Group" (whatever the hell that is) and my paper is not about this at all.


We went to Chimprov and they did improvised performance art and it was beautiful. "If 5+2 is 7 then how come I don't understand it..."

I'm tired. I'm so tired, in fact, that I think I might not go to school. I might just stay home downloading MP3s.

the internet is
i am always