Skirting the Mundane

Beaten and exhausted. I discovered today that even when I am sad and angry, alone in a corridor, I cannot scream. Without screaming, what do I have? So many of the things from last year that really meant something to me are disappearing. So many of the things that promised to be good about this year are turning ugly. And now I find I cannot even "rage, rage against the dying of the light".

Yours fadingly,
Jessica

Um... my hand smells like fish. For no particular reason. This is occupying far more of my attention than is reasonable, but... fish. Why?

It seemed a propos for the current popular Alexander obsession, so I'll post it (note: am still not actually a homosexual. And tests are easier than writing proper entries or posting photos, plus give you pretty pretty things to look at).


Which Famous Homosexual Are You?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

A joyous belated birthday to Rebecca. The Ottawa Ho is thinking of you with fondness and great hopes for the festivities.

First snow was yesterday! Very exciting, although I have already done the ceremonial First Slip And Fall on the Ice (Causing Batteries to Fly From Mine Camera). This caused two unfortunate rips: my nice jeans and my knee skin. Alas. But it was worth it to celebrate the snow. Shweta must be very very excited; she's never seen proper snow before. I can hardly even imagine it. Ten or so of the Girls From the Floor ran outside and spazzed out with excitement, and we were all Canadian and therefore lacking any real excuse for tremendous jubilation. Any excuse, that is, apart from the wonder of snow. It's gone tonight, though the puddles are still frozen solid and the temperature is subzero. I love being able to see my breath.

Shot party at Jacob's: Lecons de la soiree

Vomited-up creme de menthe still smells like creme de menthe. Actually, my clothes are not having a good week. Yesterday, blood (mine) and tonight, vomit (someone else's).

Boys are patronizing when they're drunk. "Well, sure we're more drunk than you are, but we're, like, more sober too, because we've got experience drinking." STFU, it makes no difference whether you've got experience. You may know exactly how much it'll hurt when you fall down, but you'll still fall down.

Katherine rocks: have just walked about most of the day with her and blown my budget for the entire week (but, hey, now I have hummus and pita, Christmas lights, and a miniature discoball!)

When I get around to it, I'll post a photo of my newly be-lighted room. C'est gorgey!

What kind of pirate am I? You decide!
You can also view a breakdown of results or put one of these on your own page!
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

On a completely unrelated note, Colin Hay's I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You is basically the best song ever. Poignant and sweet. Not without hope, just hopeless. You know what I mean.

And a big "WTF?" to today's Rapture Ready "Rapture Index":
Moral Standards:
Gay marry (sic) supporters lose every major political vote.

and then three lines later...
Moral Standards:
The scourge of gay marriage upgrades this category.

That makes absolutely no sense... gay marriage is not scourging anybody if it is being de-pantsed.

OK, I'm beginning to think I have some kind of voyeur vibe that makes the universe think, "Jessica likes to hear and see people in intimate moments! Let's throw her into the path of lots of random copulation!" (Note to universe: I don't.)
Either that or it is mocking me for my singledom and relative chastity.

Cases in point...
1. Ho 2's neighbours on LotR night. Squick.
2. Random Couple a few weeks ago. Ech.
3. My dorm neighbour, just today. I just wanted to sit on the damn toilet and pee, but noooo, there had to be all kinds of noises filtering through the door. Shudder.

However, my mother's visit was extremely pleasant. See Capital, Capital for the exciting details, because frankly I am too lazy to post them again. Oh, the blessings of multiple blogs.

Tonight was the first time I've been bowling since this summer. Being surrounded by drunk people (except Robin, who only had one, like I did) lent the scene a kind of cartoonishness, and there were an Ian and a Laura present. This was extra weird, because last time I went bowling, there was also an Ian and a Laura.

It just made me think about how much has changed since the last time I bowled. I thought so much about it that I forgot to return my bowling shoes and left the alley in heinous white bowling shoes, only to go skittering back in fifteen seconds later to divest myself of the things.

Canadian Senators with Funny Names
Senator Ferretti Barth, QC
Senator Losier-Cool, NB (also the Government Whip)
Senator Trenholme Counsell, NB
Senator Ringuette, NB
(my personal favourite) Senator Doody, NFLD-Lab.

I solemnly swear that I shit you not. No pun intended.

Man. I spent about half an hour on this damn quiz, but it's fun. I expect Ho 2 to do particularly well...



And now I've got Living on a Prayer stuck in my head. Oh, oh, we're halfway there...

Three days free of coffee. I rule. I have overcome my cravings and am no longer getting caffeine withdrawal headaches. Here's hoping the cycle has been broken by my tremendous willpower!

Well, not having gotten up before noon or so probably helped too.

In the words of Katherine, "has the world gone completely crackers?" It's looking more and more likely by the day. Arafat's dead, I'm not failing any of my classes, Bush is president and Powell's on his way out, Erin has gone through two boyfriends in the past month (and I, one). Steph and Luke and Amanda are dead. The world has gone crackers. There are no standards, there is no decency. What is going on?

I am on the phone with my father right now. The Fambly is watching Shrek 2. Much envy.

Essay handed in; econ assignment handed in. I am spent. Now for a weekend of tedium and relaxation.

New t-shirt design!

"Metacognition: I know - I know."

It took such a damn long time to get the punctuation right for that. Because the colon is too definite, and the semi-colon is visually uneven. The period just looked all schoolmarmy and sympathetic, while the comma was peevish. The dash (it really should be an m-dash, not an n-dash, but Blogger doesn't do those things without prompts I do not possess) is good, I think. It separates effectively, yet does not emote or alienate. It is just a pause, a pause that lets the repetition speak for itself. So to speak.

I did not "memorize" Eats, Shoots, and Leaves, per se I just... read it very, very closely.

So Amy says to me, "You know what's funny about Professor Mayer? When he comes into class he always looks like he's just had a quickie. Think about it: Hair kinda messy, glasses slightly askew, top shirt buttons undone. Jacket falling down."
It was quite difficult to stop laughing at the beginning of the lecture today, because the good professor's scarf was almost falling off, in addition to the usual shenanigans. So Kate and Lyn and I sat there for five minutes, peeing ourselves, and then got back to taking notes about Stalin's rise to power.

I love my history class. Also, Amy rules.

Good gosh. I have had two good days in a row. This week, Monday sucked, Tuesday was okay, Wednesday was a bitch, Thursday was okay, and Friday was okay too. So I have broken the cycle, I hope. Anyway, yesterday was nothing remarkable. I found out my poli-sci midterm mark (see Capital, Capital for gloatosity) and broke up with Jacob, because we basically weren't going out anyway. It's not awkward or anything; we ran together later that day. In the torrential rain. And the dark. Stepping in five-inch-deep puddles and sliding down hills. And also walking because the caf food is giving me stomach cramps -- hooray! We spent the entire run telling each other how extremely hardcore we are.

Today I wisely got off-campus to eat, after a decently productive afternoon spent on my essay. Katherine and I went out for fabulous bagels and then to the Mayfair Theatre (coolest movie theatre ever!) for their six-dollar double bill: Napoleon Dynamite and Garden State. I liked the first one and adored the second. Zach Braff is my new celebrity boyfriend. I mean, he's just so... Braffy? Come on, people. The boy does a brilliant job on Scrubs and now he has directed and starred in his own brilliant movie, which is a delight. It's just a dream of a movie. It's about home and family, and how life sucks but we can make the best of what we've got. It's not cuddly stuff, but it isn't the kind of sheer pathos that turns me off, either. It's just a guy, trying to survive in a very strange world that takes things from you without warning, and gives you other things without giving you time to say thanks. I have no good words, just go see it.

Luke gave me a scare today. I saw a photo of a grinning Prince Harry out the corner of my eye and thought, for a moment, "Cor, Lu's gone and dyed his hair blond and got his teeth all veneered!" Though I don't actually know that he hasn't, of course.

Anyway. Life goes on. And I guess I should say thanks.

Two months today since the loss. It does not feel much better, but at least it's made us conscious of how much we love.

Dear Reality,

Fuck you.

Love,
America

Dear America,

Fuck you.

Love,
The World