Consolidation

I just applied to consolidate my student loans thus locking in a super-low interest rate but forfeiting my grace period which would have let me not pay until November.

This means that I really need to find a job.

Of course, it's only a hundred and something dollars that I have to pay...over the next twenty years on the standard pay-back schedule. They of course stress that you can always send them more money if you want to.

I've always wanted to be a carni...

:CARNIVAL HELP - Now - Oct 15. traveling in, MA, ME, & NH. Must be over 18. call 877-343-7821

(note the sarcasm with which I type this)

Pictures!

I got my little Bluetooth dongle for my computer today so that I can transfer things between my phone and my laptop. I now have 'Secret Agent Man' as my ringtone. And I now have pictures to show you! This thing doesn't take bad little pictures all things considered. I took a little video, too, of the ocean, but I need to find somewhere to host it, as Flickr only does pictures as I far as I know.

Ocean!



Timmy's! (I don't know why the first one is so small)





On Sunday, I saw this guy on Commercial Street, which is the street that runs along the waterfront. He was wearing a lobster costume. It's not very well centred because it was taken from a moving vehicle.



And just for comparison sake, here is my old phone, lounging before I sent it off to be recycled by Motorola--it served me well and faithfully for four years.



And, here is my new phone, artfully self-photographed in the bathroom mirror.

Old Orchard Beach

I forgot to mention that I went to Old Orchard Beach yesterday....and so many of the signs in the shops and all the signs at the putt-putt golf place we went to where bilingual--English and FRENCH! A sign in one of the shops said 'Nous parlons français. Bienvenue atous (sic) les quebecois'

Maybe they serve poutine somewhere!

I could do this!

Category: General Help

Description:Driver /Operator DUMP TRUCK /EQUIPMENT

FULL TIME -$600/WK

CALL (207) 878-9675

Area contractor seeking Ind. to handle job site equipment operation and some transfer between sites. J#201, E1, $175, CDL, HIRING!

Now I want you all to join me in laughing.

Seriously, though, there was a job posted for a CSR position at a small but growing educational publishing company here in Portland. I COULD do that. And am going to email them my CV today. If I get that job, the Bookstore totally has to start pushing their books to the Education Faculty so that you guys can have an excuse to phone me!

*snicker*

One of the bloggers I read is going on vacation, and mentions this about his dogs in his goodbye post:

Satchmo and Beckham will be spending the week at their vet. Four years ago we boarded Satchmo with his vet and took the opportunity to have him 'fixed'. Since that time we have explained to him over and over that he was at a 'spa' and they lost his 'luggage'. He's still not buying it.

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes.

It's about frickin' time. I've been reading rumours about a 'Rent' movie in the making for ever! It's being directed by Chris Columbus which makes me wonder how good it will actually be, but it has the original Broadway cast and the trailer looks quite good.

My roommate is going to flip when I she wakes up and I show her this. The first time I saw Rent was with her in high school and we were so crazy about it!

'The' Gay Club

So, I got home not too long ago from THE gay club in Portland, Styxx. (Not the River. There's an extra X there.) It was fairly dead which, my friend promised, is not the case on Saturdays. I'll have to take her word for it now. The music was meh. There were a LOT of sandals being worn. I don't care how laid back this place is, wearing sandals to go out dancing is just dumb. I was really confused when they made last call, as it was only quarter to one. Oh, right, bars close at one here.

Apparently Boston Pride is tomorrow and Portland Pride is next week. We have the opportunity to go with new roomie's friends to Boston Pride tomorrow, but I just don't feel settled enough to leave. Plus, I don't have an ATM card yet and am low on cash. Instead, we'll stay here, take advantage of the roomie's car to go to Target and such to work on getting important things like a spice rack and a tea kettle.

It's ten to two, and I'm wide awake. One! Bars close at one here! What on earth?! Apparently there are 'after hours' places. At least, roomie suggested that there were. I can only imagine what they're like....but if it means I can dance until a respectable hour to good music, then I'm game. Imagine, I never would have thought to go to after hours in MTL because of the cost and the time of night. Here, it seems only too obvious to go.

Oh, that was the other thing: I bought a vodka tonic for myself and a beer for her, and it only cost me $7.50. That's not so bad, I guess. Still, I'd much rather be at the Bamboo Room right now--even on Babysitting Friday--than at the kitchen table writing this.

I chose this. I knew it wouldn't be like Montreal. Give it time.

This is what I keep telling myself.

Timmy Ho's!

I went out to the mall today. It was about as exciting as malls tend to be. I failed in my quest, which was to buy a USB Bluetooth adapter so that I can transfer things between my new phone and my computer. If I had not failed, I would be able to post pictures to prove that there is indeed a Tim Hortons here--I even had lunch there! AND it's a 24 hour drive through Tim Hortons (not that this does me any good, not having a car and all).

On my way home, two cute Mormons tried to pick me up. No, not THAT way, but it's more fun to think of it that way. I told them that I would ask God about Joseph Smith tonight in my prayers and dodged giving them my phone number, claiming that I didn't have one yet.

Sometimes I'm just too nice. I feel like an ass to blow people off, though.

Technology and Social Clock

My new phone whines when its battery gets low. It makes this sort of plaintive, sad sound every five minutes almost as if it's saying, 'Hey, you. Person carrying me. I'm low on energy. Could you plug me in? Please? I really don't ask much. ... Hey, remember me? Your trusty little phone? I need some juice. Can you please plug me in?'

Also, I need to readjust my social clock. Bars close here at 1. And almost nothing is open after 8 it seems, except restos and bars. Not even cafés. I went out last night around 8.30 figuring I'd find a café to haunt for a while and none of them were open!

Welcome to the...Twilight Zone

The mailwoman (mailperson?) just rang up because she had mail for me but my name wasn't on the tag downstairs. She wanted to make sure that the mail was addressed properly and offered to add my name to the tag.

Creepy friendliness.

Also, I haven't gotten nearly enough responses from those of you who I sent out my change of address to as to whether or not you want a post card!

And if I didn't send you an email but you read this and you want a post card from Portland then let me know! Don't leave your address in the comments, obviously, but email me!

Is it a bad sign...

...that I had a dream last night that a year and a half had passed and that the 2006 Congressional elections had happened and that the Republicans had actually gained larger majorities in both the House and Senate? And in this dream, it was like waking up from a dream and realising that I had somehow not paid any attention to what had been going on.

There was also a weird dream about the fridge (but not the freezer) and the stove getting sucked into a black hole on the wall behind them.

Still trying to settle in mentally, I guess. I don't expect that to happen over night.

And for something completely different, thanks to fellow Groovester, I am listening to something off this blog (NOT A WORK SAFE LINK) right now. It's, um, well. It's different. It would actually be really funny if I actually had an iPod and had some kind of really long commute to know that I was listening to this on the bus while everyone around me was reading their papers or whatever.

An ice cream truck!

An ice cream truck just went by my apartment! How exciting!

And, I made a friend today at the laundramat, where I was almost all day, catching up on the back-log of laundry. Yay!

The unpacking continues. I've got the bookshelf up and the books for the summer unpacked. There are a few that I need to fish out of the other boxes of books that are going to go into storage. I changed my mind about not having them here and since I took them all with me, I may as well get them. I'll have my dad come up as soon as he can to take them back to Mass-a-two-shits so they aren't taking up too much room.

In other news, my new mobile can not only take pictures, it can also take video! I don't know why I'd need to be able to capture video with my PHONE but apparently I might need to.

There is distressingly little counter space in the kitchen here. Less than in my old apartment--and there wasn't much there, so you can only imagine. PLUS, the fridge and stove are on one side of the front door and the sink and counters and cabinets are on the other side, and up a bit because of where the bathroom is. Which means that the prep area is something like two metres from the cooking area. Dumb dumb dumb. Clearly someone who doesn't cook designed this kitchen.

There is also virtually no cabinet space. I miss the pantry of infinity that was in the old apartment. We need to find a shelving solution for the kitchen. Desperately. Also a surface area solution. Some sort of tray on wheels wouldn't be bad. Not necessarily even on wheels. Just something that can stand next to the prep area and get brought over to the stove.

Also, I need to have a very serious talk with my friend when she comes back from her little camping/training adventure on a topic that might very well determine the fate of this little roommate experiment. SHE HAS NO SPICES IN THE HOUSE! (aside from salt, pepper and chilli powder) Now, I've been criticised sometimes in the past for the lack of spices I've used in my own cooking, but that was mostly because I was still working on learning how to cook myself, trying to figure out how things tasted without spices and trying to figure out what spices would do to the flavour of things. I'm still learning, of course, but have definitely broadened my spice horizons.

In any event, I foresee a trip to Target this weekend as I need to buy a coffee grinder anyway. I suspect she's just not a big cooker. That will change, however, if I have anything to say about it....

Back to unpacking!

What have I gotten myself into?

This poster is being run on commuter trains in Maryland. No, really. I don't even know where to begin...

The Newest Adventure

As the previous post stated, I’m here, I’m alive and the move went relatively well. As the two before that attest to, the pre-move of my roommates went less than well. For a full description of that, see Caspian’s blog. The only thing that he leaves out of his post is that at about 7pm I started really freaking out and absented myself from the apartment, which I wrote about in one of my earlier posts.

By the time we got my stuff packed into the truck (which took under half of the space--and this was no giant U-Haul: it was one of those little 10' ones) and cleaned the apartment up and packed up the remaining things that were Caspian and Nadia's and got them to NDG and unloaded them, the sun was just about up. I had originally wanted to leave Montreal at 10am but we all got to bed after 4am, the move having taken about 12 hours longer than we expected.

So, Caspian and I climbed into the truck at around 1.30pm and set off South-East.

Once we were outside the city, the traffic was almost non-existant and once we crossed the border into the States, the roads were virtually empty.

Despite the truck's size, it actually handled fairly well. I did grow up driving a boat-sized Lincoln Town Car, so I had some experience with big things, but this, obviously, was a bit larger than even that. And yet, it had good breaks and good pick-up and handled easily.

The drive itself was quite nice and Caspian didn't seem to mind playing to role of annoying passenger, especially as we drove through the White Mountains National Forest in New Hampshire, along the 302.

'Ooh! Look at that! And that! And that!'

'I can't,' I would grumble. 'I'm driving along this little two-lane road through mountains. I need to make sure we don't drive off a cliff!'

Still, what I could see was quite gorgeous. We stopped at one of the scenic outlooks not too long after having left the Forest and shortly before entering North Conway. So much green. And there were big puffy clouds along with storm clouds that seemed to threaten us most of the way (although we managed to avoid any really serious rain).

We got into Portland around 9pm which was about right, considering our stop for lunch and a few stretching/potty/coffee breaks along the way as well.

And then I found out that my friend lives on the THIRD FLOOR of her building. We'd just spent the previous day going up and down two flights of stairs moving Cas and Nad out of the old apartment. Ugh. We unloaded my stuff fairly quickly and then Kristin popped open champagne, which is always a bad idea for me on an empty stomach. I drank it anyway, as it seemed appropriate. My tummy wasn't too happy, but I survived and it was more the fatigue than anything else, I think.

We went out for some dinner and a pint of local brew, which was quite nice. And then went home and passed out.

K left early next morning to head back to the island. I had wanted to sleep in, but of course couldn't. Cas and I lazed around for a bit and then went to return the truck and to explore around a bit.

The first thing I noticed about this city is all the brick! Brick everywhere! Even the sidewalks are brick! Not yellow brick, mind you, the more typical red brick. It's a welcome change, I guess, from Montreal concrete. Caspian suggested that Portland looks like a cross between Halifax, Moncton and Ottawa. I figure he's probably about right, though I've only ever been to Ottawa. It does have a very East Coast port feel to it (imagine that, eh?).

So far, I have no complaints. It's no Montreal, that's for sure--and I knew that, obviously. I still have very mixed feelings about being back in the States, but those will probably persist for quite a long time, I would imagine. While browsing in one of the bookstores that I dropped off a CV at yesterday, I came across on of Bill Bryson's books, 'I'm A Stranger Here Myself' which is about his return to the States after two decades in Britain. Granted, 5 years isn't quite the same as two decades, but for me it might as well be. I've bumped that up to 'Next' on my reading list. It was published a decade ago now, but I suspect that it will be an interesting read all the same.

I'm still trying to digest a lot of images and sounds and feelings so I think I'll leave it here for now.

Arrival!

I'm here. Alive. Went well. Details later.

It should have been over by now

I've been up since about six. Had to go to the boonies to pick up my cute little U-Haul. Have been working on moving the roomies since about 11. They were, um, kind of packed. I'm much more kind of packed than they are. I just need to take apart my Ikea furniture and finish packing my clothes. It's madness at the apartment right now and I have absented myself because I just couldn't handle it. I'll have to go back eventually as I have to drive the truck to the new apartment. I really really really hope that it's just one more trip with their stuff and then we can pack up my stuff and I can go to sleep. It won't be a very good sleep, but it will be sleep nonetheless. I think I'm going to head back to the apartment now, actually, and see where they're at. I may try to get in a cat nap--though at this point, I doubt I'd wake up again.

Into the storm

There's a dark cloud rising from the desert floor
I packed my bags and I'm heading straight into the storm
Gonna be a twister to blow everything down
That ain't got the faith to stand its ground
Blow away the dreams that tear you apart
Blow away the dreams that break your heart
Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and broken-hearted

The dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand
If I could take one moment into my hands
Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man
And I believe in a promised land


Son, look at all the people in this restaurant
What do you think they weigh?
And out the window to the parking lot
At their SUV's taking all the space

They give no fuck
They talk as loud as they want
They give no fuck
Just as long as there's enough for them

Gonna get on the microphone down at Wal-Mart
Talk about some shit that's been on my mind
Talk of the state of this great nation of ours
People look to your left
Yeah, look to your right

They give no fuck
They buy as much as they want
They give no fuck
Just as long as there's enough for them

Son, look at the people lining up for plastic
Wouldn't you like to see them in the National Geographic?
Squatting bare assed in the dirt eating rice from a bowl
With a towel on their head, and maybe a bone in their nose

See that asshole with the peace sign on his license plate?
Giving me the finger and running me out of his lane
God made us number one because he loves us the best
Well he should go bless someone else for a while
Give us a rest

(They give no)
Yeah, and everyone can see
(They give no)
We've eaten all that we can eat


We knew all the answers
And we shouted them like anthmes
Anxious and suspicious
That God knew how much we cheated

...

There's no indication of
What we were meant to be
Sucking up to strangers
Throwing wishes to the sea


Everybody knows
It sucks to grow up
And everybody does
It's so weird to be back here
Let me tell you what
The years go on and
We're still fighting it, we're still fighting it


Peut-être qu'il faut s'enfuir loin de son passé
Toujours partir afin de mieux se retrouver

...

Good bye à mes vieux amis
En vérité je vous le dis
Je mets ma vie à l'heure

This will likely be the last entry I write from Montreal.

I have to meet my dad in an hour so he can drive me to Vaurdreuil to pick up my U-Haul. Frickin' Vaudreuil!

I'm still not finished packing. I'll come back here, pick up my roommate and drive to her parents' place on the South Shore to pick up some stuff there to drop off at their new place. Then the day begins.

I'm exhausted and over-emotional which would explain my sobbing right now. I keep telling myself that this is what I have to do, but it's so difficult to leave everything I've known and loved for the past five years. To leave the first place that I've truly felt at home and comfortable with myself. Part of me feels like I'm making the biggest mistake of my life, that I should have just said Fuck off to the US and applied for residency here in Canada.

Yet there's that other part of me that keeps saying that I have to go back. I'm not even sure why anymore. Part of me thinks I'll get so fed up within a month that I'll come running back to Montreal.

I'll leave tomorrow morning, Portland-bound.

Every time I've left this city over the past five years, I've gotten a sinking feeling in my stomach, worried that I'd never see Montreal again. I think that sinking feeling is going to be big enough to swallow me whole tomorrow.

There are new adventures on the horizon, I keep telling myself, and that if I'm meant to be here, my road will lead me back here.

But it's so difficult to listen to yourself when you're so unconvinced of what you're saying.

Yesterday

Convocation was a blur. The honorary degree recipient, Veronica Tennant, was horribly full of herself and about 90% of her speech was about how wonderful she was. One of my favourite profs got the Faculty of Arts teaching award. I almost cried six times and barely kept myself under control during 'O Canada' at the end.

Dinner last night was at Au Pied de Cochon and was, I think, food-wise, the most amazing dinner I've had in my five years here in Montréal. We shared a foie gras poutine for an entrée and then I had the Duck in a Can, where they literally put into a can and have it sealed half a breast of duck, foie gras, garlic, thyme, other stuff that I don't remember and then cook the can, which they bring to your table, open and dump onto your plate, which has mashed potatoes on it. The duck melts in your mouth, and all of the seasonings make the mashed potatoes into a sort of gooey yumminess. I couldn't finish it, but I didn't want to stop eating. Cooler than my dinner, though, was my roommate who had--get this--sting ray! Way too salty for my tastes, but she loved it. I kind of wanted to get one of their seafood platters just for the presentation alone (picture a 3-tiered sort-of plate tree overflowing with seafood, crab legs all akimbo jutting up from the top tier), but I figured that seafood is going to get really familiar really quickly in Maine so I should get something that I wouldn't normally. Hence the Duck in a Can.

As if this all wasn't enough, I then had to go to Mado to meet some friends for drinks. They're probably going to come visit me in a few weeks when they're in Boston, so it wasn't really a good bye so much as an à bientôt. Still, it's not as if I can phone them up to see if they want to go out for drinks. And I'll miss all of their wonderful parties. And I'll miss them, of course, too.

The packing continues today along with administrative things like closing my bank account and making sure that the University don't try to direct deposit my last pay cheque. As I have not had the time to rent it, I think I'm just going to buy Premier Juillet and enjoy it once I get settled in Maine. I managed never actually to move on 1st July, but it seems an appropriate memento to have of my time here all the same, along with my Denys Arcand films--I still wish I'd graduated last year so that I could have had Denys Arcand as my graduation speaker, especially now after mine sucked.

At any rate, I should go start my day or perhaps try to sleep a bit more before starting my day.

So much to do, so little time.

Free Will Astrology

Y'know, I was enjoying his horoscopes. This one, though...well, it does seem to fit, admittedly.

The state of New Hampshire's symbol used to be the Old Man of the Mountain. Carved from rock by a glacier 30,000 years ago, it was a series of granite ledges that jutted out of a mountain in the shape of an old man's face. It was a top tourist attraction, and its image appeared on numerous state souvenirs. But in May 2003, it collapsed overnight, weakened by millennia of freezing and thawing. According to my reading of the astrological omens, Cancerian, this event has resemblances to an imminent disintegration in your own life. Like the original, your experience might be sad, but mostly for nostalgic reasons. No one will get hurt, and ultimately you'll feel exhilarated as you pick a new symbol to inspire you.

The big day

There's a high of 29 tomorrow. I'll be in a suit and a polyester robe under a tent in the middle of the afternoon. I'm going to DIE!

There's a TIMMY'S!

Not that I ever go to Tim Horton's now...but that's beside the point, in a way.

It's certainly not Basha...

...but there's an Eggspectations in Portland. It's something.

The Packing Game

I win the coursepack and books round! Wee! I fit all of my coursepacks into one box! Bonus points! Though, I probably lose some points because it's kind of heavy.

Morning song

I woke up with Ça fait rire les oiseaux stuck in my head. I'm not sure what that means, if anything, but just thought I'd share.

To boldly go where no Dentyne packet has gone before

Well, probably not. But, I did just accidentally wash a packet of Dentyne with my laundry this morning. Luckily, the foil remained intact and I discovered it before transfering the clothes to the dryer. Crisis averted!

(Does the split infinitive in the title of this post--and in the Star Trek mantra--bother anyone else? I never noticed it before....)

BBC on Will Wright's new game, 'Spore'

The newest from the creator of SimCity and The Sims is a life-simulation, where you start our with an amoeba and evolve it into an inter-stellar travelling group of creatures. Sounds fun.

'You get to play every generation of the creature,' said Mr Wright. 'I want something boys can make scary things or casual gamers can make cute things.'

But, what if boys want to make something cute? Is that allowed? Why do we have to assume that boys are only going to want to make scary things. And why can't boys be casual gamers? Or why can't girls make scary things? Does this mean that girls can't be hard-core gamers?

Observations on Mado

So I FINALLY got to go to Mado. Finally. And it was a blast. I think my dance itch has finally been itched.

They played Cotton Eyed Joe--how could I not get my dance itch itched with that. Oh, and there was the 10+ minute Madonna set. That helped, too.

For a last night at Mado for quite a while, I really have no complaints...except one. (You knew there had to be one, right?)

It is this:

Now, it's one thing when you see one rather attractive young gentleman out of a crowd of generally lacklustre candidates. It's another when you see two rather attractive young gentlemen out of a crowd of rather lacklustre candidates. The unfairness begins when they see each other and proceed to go at it. On the one hand, it's like having your own personal soft-core porn performance. On the other hand, it just seems oh-so-cruel.

I have to be to work in six hours, which means I have to be up in four and a half, which means I should go to bed.

Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.

Bollocks

That's all. Oh, and perhaps balls. And a good ol' Charlie Brown arrrggghhh thrown in for good measure.

Everything is fine, don't worry your little heads. It was proven to me today that some people just do not and cannot change, that's all.

Awww

I spent the afternoon at Toi, Moi et Café with my roommate. At one point, these two guys who were obviously on a first date came in and sat down not too far away from us.

And they were just adorable. Gazing into each other's eyes and talking and talking and talking. Making tentative and quick hand contact on the table and bumping knees and feet under the table.

My roommate and I couldn't help but giggling like little schoolgirls. It really brightened the otherwise dreary and grey day.

'Houdini babe takes toy initative'

I can't decide if what disturbs me the most about this story is that the Wal-mart was open at three in the morning or if the mother actually went to buy a disposable camera to take a picture of her son trapped in a toy machine.

Chelovek s kinoapparatom (1929)

Man With A Movie Camera is playing for free on Wednesday night at Concordia! Anyone? Anyone?

(I'll listen for the crickets, because I'm sure no one else is interested.... infidels.)

Name that movie!

'Bob Dole is gorgeous!'

Very obscure line reference, unless you've paid close attention.

And, anyway, it seemed good to watch something entirely different from what I watched yesterday.

Oh, and I made empanadas for the first time last night. And only two of them leaked when I baked them. They were yummy! Leeks, ginger, thyme, pear, a bit of sugar, chives and swiss cheese. I didn't use nearly enough ginger or thyme or cheese, but I'll know for next time.

Phil Ochs

I was just listening to the Phil Ochs song 'Here's to the State of Mississippi' which has a line 'Congressmen will gather in a circus of delay / While the constitution is drowning in an ocean of decay', which made me think of Tom DeLay's own circus and the circus which is Congress right now between ethics scandals and the Senate filibuster.

Where is Phil Ochs now that we need him again?

WEE!

The two guys who just saw our apartment want to take it! Which means I don't have to pay for it in June!

Of course, this also means that I'll have to move out of here 1st of June before moving to Maine on the 5th.

Just in case you forgot

1625 Americans have been killed in Iraq to date.

And at least 21,705 Iraqis have been killed.

I'm home sick and since I wanted something uplifting to do, I'm rewatching Fahrenheit 9/11. There's nothing like starting the day with a good, frustrated cry. It's very easy to avoid hearing about the deaths when I'm not in the States and when I don't watch the news.

But every time I go home, and the news happens to be on and they talk about yet another young American killed halfway around the world, I get chocked up. I realise that the whole point of this film is to anger the audience into action. But when I almost cry watching the news it's because I realise the ultimate futility of what is going on and the deception that takes place in the States on a daily basis.

We're bringing democracy and freedom to the Iraqi people. Those permanent bases that we're building, oh, those are nothing. Ignore those. And the oil? Well....

15 days and counting until I return.

'Only you can prevent forest fires.'

Has it ever bothered anyone else that Smokey the Bear never seems to have a shirt on?

Free Will Astrology

I suppose this is the follow-up horoscope from that one I posted a while back.

CANCER (June 21 - July 22): It's graduation time for you, Cancerian. Maybe you're finishing up work at an actual school, or maybe your classroom has been in the streets, but in any case you're completing lessons you've been studying for many moons. Personally, I've enjoyed watching you work. It has been a pleasure seeing you evolve from an innocent amateur into a proficient veteran without losing your purity. As you journey on to your next challenge, I hope you'll find a way to use the expertise you've developed even as you cultivate maximum curiosity about the next frontier.

Turn around bright eyes

The video for Bonnie Tyler's 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' is completely fucked up. Seriously. Completely, totally, utterly fucked up. You have to see it to believe it. And even then, you won't understand what you just saw.

The Party

So, we had a party at my apartment on Saturday night to celebrate the fact that I'm done with university as well as the fact that one of my roommates and I both came out ten years ago. She was 19. I was 12. Go figure. The theme--because there should always be a theme--was to dress as your favourite stereotype. I dressed as an Italian guy from the 70's. Polyester, gold chains and chest hair. The only thing I had to borrow was the gold. Hehe.

I haven't seen the pictures from the party yet, but from what I remember, it was quite a good time.

From what I don't remember, well.... it's probably better to assume that it was an all around good time.

We cut the coming out cake (a Devil's food cake with vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles) at around half past midnight, I think. I wasn't paying too close attention to the time. There were a lot of vodka shots after the cake cutting and that's when things get a bit fuzzy.

What I do remember after the cake:

Talking to various people coming and going.
Lots of dancing. Apparently, there was a lot of singing on my part, too, though I don't remember that per se. My roommate commented on Sunday that she was amazed at all the songs that I knew ALL the words to.
Trying to get a friend of mine to dance, despite his insistence that he does not dance.
Making plans to go to Mado on Tuesday (yesterday), to which I did NOT go because I thought I was getting sick--seems more likely now to be allergies, but I didn't want to chance it last night.
One of my friends passing out cold on the couch, where he slept until 3 the next afternoon.
Getting pantsed by my roommates.
Pantsing one of my roommates.
Realising that it was getting light out and discussing the idea of walking up the Mountain to see the sunrise.
Singing along to 'Fernando' by Abba while holding birthday candles.
Singing along to lots of other Abba and Village People songs.
After everyone else had left, singing along to 'American Pie' with my roommate, he holding a bottle of rum and me holding the last of the vodka, taking swigs at each chorus. This was at about quarter past seven in the morning.

I then stumbled to bed. (This is one of the nice things about having a party at home, you can pretty much collapse into your own bed at any point.)

I live just up the street from a Portuguese Church that hold processions at various points during the year. The first big one for Pentecost was this past Sunday. So a marching band right outside my window woke me up at about one, when I was still drunk.

I went back to sleep until about three. Then, I phoned up one of my friends for some breakfast and stumbled out into the oh-too-bright sunlight and we headed up to Dusty's. One Big D breakfast later (four eggs, potatoes, sausage, bacon, ham, toast and beans) we stumbled back home and I went back to sleep.

I was still hurting on Monday.

But it was worth it.

Except that I still haven't gotten rid of the dance itch. This coming Tuesday is my last chance ever to go to Mado. By hook or by crook, I will go.

PS For those of you not in Montreal: Le Monde de Mado. I always go on Tuesdays, not so much for the show--because I only ever understand about half of what they say--but for the music after the show, which is always a good mix of 80s/90s/Today pop. Stupid fun stuff to dance to.

Redecorating

A subtle change. Like?

Not that this is a surprise, but I think the picture is cute. Party post will come later. Once my head stops hurting.





Take the What High School
Stereotype Are You? quiz.

It's 13.30...

...and I think I'm still drunk.

I guess that means it was a good party.

Am going to sleep now

Am very drunk and have the hiccoughs. This is funny...to my roommates. And probably to you.

Redecorating

I'm thinking that I need to do some blog redecoration. Ideas for good template sites? I figure I'll unveil the new design to correspond with my move next month. So it'll probably have a sort of summery oceany feel to it. Or something.

I want

Both of these images can be found on t-shirts. I want them both, but I want the first one more than I want the second one. I want, I want, I want! (Wow, how's that for whiney three-year-old consumerism?)



The t-shirts are here: http://www.hingos.com/patches/index.php?pt=050511&inc=stuff#stuff and I was directed thence from one of my new favourite blogs, Preshrunk.

The Dance Itch

Poplife at Unity tonight did not cure my dance itch. I should have known better. I still haven't made it to Mado since I finished school. I will go on Tuesday...or people will die. Or something. I'm determined. I have a promise from at least one person. I'll hold her to it. Hopefully, it will scratch the itch in the right way. Finally. Not that I'm complaining. I actually can go dancing now and now worry about the fact that I should be doing work.

Final marks

I just checked and I have all of my marks now. I'll be graduating next month with a Bachelor of Arts in History (First Class Honours) with a minor in Italian Literature and Language.

It'll be the most expensive piece of paper I've ever bought. To be fair, it's more than just a piece of paper, though. I've learned a lot over the past five years here--and not just in class, obviously.

I still don't want to leave Montréal, but I know that the time has come. I keep bargaining with myself, telling myself that it doesn't make sense for me to stay here right now--and I know that's true, it doesn't make sense. I just hate uncertainty. As I keep quoting the Scissor Sisters, 'There's no indication of what we were meant to be. Sucking up to strangers, throwing wishes to the sea.'

I'll be close enough to the sea to spit at it, never mind throw wishes to it, in less than a month.

I still don't know exactly when I'm moving nor even how I'm going to physically move my stuff. I'll figure something out. I always seem to.

I haven't listened to this song in a while, but it popped into my head just now and seems appropriate.

Long Way to Run by Collective Soul

Are these times contagious
I've never been this bored before
Is this the prize I've waited for
Now with the hours passing
There’s nothing left here to insure
I long to find a messenger

Have I got a long way to run
Have I got a long way to run
Yeah, I run

Is there a cure among us
From this processed sanity
I weaken with each voice that sings
Now, in this world of purchase
I'm going to buy back memories
To awaken some old qualities

Have I got a long way to run
Have I got a long way to run
Yeah, I run
Yeah, I run

Have I got a long way
Have I got a long way
Have I got a long way to run
Have I got a long way to run

Yeah, I run (have I got a long way to run)
Yeah, I run (have I got a long way to run)
Yeah, I run (have I got a long way to run)
Yeah, I run (have I got a long way to run)

As a final thought, the opening line of the Port Huron Statement, published in 1962 by Students for a Democratic Society, also rings painfully true for me right now--and I hope for the thousands of others who are graduating this spring.

'We are people of this generation, bred in at least modest comfort, housed now in universities, looking uncomfortably to the world we inherit.'

Prince Harry begins his army training

...and dad makes sure that he's tough enough:

Prince Charles accompanied his son to Sandhurst, giving him a playful punch on the arm before leaving him to start his career.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Wee! The first trailer for the new Harry Potter movie is up on the Apple trailers page.

It's a total tease though. I hate teaser trailers for that.

Minor update

Did a bit of house-keeping. Finally updated my Daily Reads and Connecting the Blogosphere. I use the Daily Reads category for information/news-oriented blogs and the Connecting... category for personal blogs. Just in case you were wondering. Don't see yourself listed? That's because I've missed you or don't know that you have a blog. Want to be listed? Well, tell me, damnit! I'm not psychic, you know!

That is all.

Have a fabulous Sunday all!

Khrushchev quote of the day

Who doesn't love Nikita?

Krushchev 'had boasted that Soviet production and standards of living would overtakes those of the West by 1970, saying that 'When we catch you up, as we pass by, we will wave to you.'

Perhaps the most amusing smiley animation I've seen

Simple, but cute:

CITIZEN-TIMES.com: Members say church ousts Kerry supporters

Ah, Christian love and fellowship.

The pastor insists that the move was not politically motivated, though he refuses to speak to the media.

Overheards on the Tube

I rather enjoy this page. Every week, this fellow posts ten things that he has overheard on the Tube (the London metro system...London, UK, that is.... just making sure we're all on the same page :-P) over the past week.

Number seven this week is 'She just needs a good dose of cock.'

Interpret as you will. Also, make assumptions as to whether or not this may or may not also apply to me.

Ah, spring.

The time zones, they may be a-changin'

Apparently Maine is considering changing to the Atlantic Time Zone, though it's probably going to be decided in a referendum next year and then wouldn't go into effect until Spring 2007. So, I might finally leave the Eastern Time Zone...by default, assuming it goes through and I'm still in Maine when it goes into effect.

All big assumptions at this point.

Fatigue fatigue?

I think they need to do a Queer Eye for the Cuban Dictator Guy. The fatigue look is just so old.

Headline of the day

'School mistakes huge burrito for a weapon'

*gigglesnickergiggle*

Also

Upon further reflection, people who feel that the Bamboo Room at Unity is the ideal place for elaborate ballroom-esque dance moves need to be shot. After my glasses were knocked off my face I somehow miraculously caught them.

The end of the world as I know it

I had an odd walk/bus ride home from Unity tonight. It's cold and damp and a bit foggy.

As I was sitting at Berri, waiting for the night bus, I realised that whenever I go out, unless I go home with the boy I'm currently seeing or a random boy, I never leave with the friends I went out with to begin with. They either have or find their own boys or just disappear. I feel like I'm always left dancing away on my own. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, just an observation. It makes me think of the Franz Ferdinand song 'Take Me Out': 'Come on, take me out. / I know I won't be leaving here with you.'

The other odd part about coming home was the weather. As I walked on Marie-Anne past Clark, the streets were completely deserted--even St-Laurent was quiet. It was barely raining and the streets were all wet. The breeze blew a plastic bag across Marie-Anne. It had a very odd almost post-apocalyptic feeling to it. At least, that's what immediately came to mind.

It is kind of post-apocalyptic for me right now. University is over. It still hasn't sunken in and it probably won't fully until September. It is truly the end of my world as I know it. And I feel okay, I guess. I'm nervous about moving away from Montreal and really hoping that Portland is the right choice. And that I'll be able to find a job. And that I won't be totally broke all the time. And that I'll be able to pay back my student loans. And that I'll be able to afford even to move myself down to Portland. Etc, etc, etc.

'Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.'

(name the source of that quotation and win a prize: my undying appreciation of your poetic knowledge)

I'm sure this rambling is just some sort of odd anti-endorphin kick or something. Shouldn't dancing have gotten me all happy and excited rather than ponderous? I'm not depressed, just thinking about a lot of stuff.

No use thinking about it now at ten past four in the morning. My bed calls. Besides, tomorrow is the first Sunday in a long time that I can sleep in and not have to worry about getting up to study or write papers or read. Hell, I could go buy the Sunday NY Times and sit in bed with it all day if I wanted to. Alternately, I could read the whole thing online, which would mean not even having to get out of my pj's or leave the house. I like that idea better. I think it's supposed to be shitty weather again tomorrow. Alas, Mother Nature seems to be on a shitty weather kick.

This does not bode well for the future...

...for me or anyone else I know.

Mother Nature's Grad Gift

Um, thanks?

To do.

1. Shower.
2. Hand in last paper ever.
3. Go to the bank to deposit a cheque so that I have money.
4. Do laundry.
5. Nap.
6. Go to my roommate's show tonight.
7. Drink.
8. Repeat important steps as necessary.

Seriously, wtf?

So, I happened to check my transcript online just now because I couldn't remember a class I had taken a few years ago and I was talking about something with my roommate. I figured I'd look to see if, off chance, I had any marks for this semester yet.

And I had one. For the class that I just handed the paper in today at four.

I can only assume it's a mistake--either that or my prof is assuming that I was going to write some amazingly good paper and just gave me a mark without seeing the final product. Which somehow seems wrong.

Not that I'm complaining, because it's a good mark.

Completely, totally and utterly burnt out.

That's what I am right now. But I still have my honours thesis to finish today and a take-home to write for tomorrow. My honours thesis is, well, there are 32 pages of words. But it's complete and utter crapola. No, really it is. I barely have a continuous argument right now. But I have to hand it in by five.

If I can get through this, the take-home should be fairly straight forward to get finished for tomorrow. Right now, though, I really just want to sleep. I, of course, did not sleep well last night. Lots and tossing and turning, worrying about what I'd say about Cotton Mather in my thesis.

I'm still not entirely sure. But I have to come up with something. Ugh. I kind of don't care at this point. I won't fail, that's for sure, but I know I won't be happy with whatever I end up handing in this afternoon.

Maybe by some stroke of wonderful genius, I'll be on my way to hand in my take-home in 24 hours' time. And then I'll sleep for 24 hours. Ahh, sleep. That would be wonderful right about now.....

OKCupid! The Ancient Civiliazation for you Test

I know at least a few of you will get excited by this test...

Incas You scored 83% for Education, 43% for Religion, 45% for Military Might, and 25% for Decentralization!

Mysteriously, this vanished people were enlightened and educated to a magnificent level. Scientific, artistic, with a vast understanding of the stars and astrology, the Incas of Peru were the first great science society in the Americas. We speculate a society of great thinkers and curious scienctist. To value knowledge, art, and culture above all things would make for the best Incan society had to offer. You belong here because you think these things make for immortality, and you might just be right.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 76% on Education You scored higher than 43% on Religion You scored higher than 76% on Military Might You scored higher than 16% on Decentralizatio

Link: The Ancient Civiliazation for you Test written by Rowdyandy on Ok Cupid

I broke the fridge

So, we started chipping away at the ice caked on our ice box. The ice having rendered it essentially unusable. We were using screwdrivers and hammers. My roommate started it. And then I punctured the side of the ice box. And it started spraying freon. And that was bad. So we no longer have a big fridge. Because I broke it. It was dying anyway. But, that's kind of not the point.

Freon leaks are not good things. People can die from freon. But, I figure that people live in California and there's a lot of freon there. So I'll probably be okay. We've got all the windows open and such. And none of us have any symptoms of freon poisoning. The main symptoms being confusion and sleepiness. Of course, this entire apartment is a zone of confusion and sleepiness so it might be difficult to discern the difference...

NPR : Finding New Love, Late in Life

This is adorable and funny and you should take ten minutes to listen to it, because it will make you smile and possible laugh. And if it doesn't, then you're not human.

Four years ago, at the age of 76, Joannee Marks moved into the Hebrew Home for the Aged in New York.
There, she found a new life and something unexpected: a new love. Marks met Charlie Nucciarone in a class at the home. He calls her Cookie Jar. She says he's the best friend she's ever had. Independent producer David Miller interviewed Joannee last year and offers this story about rediscovering herself during the last years of her life.

Crazy Puritan boy names

Because 'Increase' and 'Cotton' aren't bad enough, I just came across a Puritan intellectual named 'Experience Mayhew'. Experience! Who would name their kid Experience?! Or Increase?! Or Cotton!?

The evilosity of M$ increases

This is the conclusion to a long post over at AmericaBlog. Basically, Washington State was set to pass a gay rights bill, and it was to be quite close but it should have made it through. Among other support, it had Microsoft's. Microsoft being such a big employer in Washington, obviously this meant something. One single radical right anti-gay activist complained to Microsoft, according to reports, and Microsoft backed off from supporting the bill. One.

Now, what's most distressing about this is the fact that Microsoft has previously been very supportive of gay rights. So supportive that they've won awards, supported a non-discrimination bill at the federal level, and bragged about how pro-gay they are on their own website.

I've never been a Microsoft fan to begin with--but that's not really the point here. John suggests that it's beginning to be safe to be gay, or even liberal, in America. In an earlier post he had suggested this and said that he'd felt the same way right after the election. He probably knows better than I would, actually being in the States and all.

But I'll be there soon enough. In a little over a month, I'll be returning to the U.S. of A. If I wanted to stay in Canada, I'm sure I could fairly easily. But, as I've said before, I feel like I have to go back because if all of the good people abandon the States, then there's really no hope for anyone. And as Harvey Milk once said, 'You cannot live on hope alone, but without hope, life is not worth living.'

I still have hope. It's easy to have hope from a distance. I've been on the sidelines for the past five years and have often wondered how I might be different if I'd stay in the States for university. Hard to say, of course. I'd like to think that the only real difference is that I'd be far more politically active. I've followed Canadian politics since I've been here, but they're not my politics, I don't have a say in them, so I've never been heavily interested in things that are going on.

During the first Bush administration, I only half paid attention to things south of the border. It seemed far enough away not really to matter. I paid enough attention to be a bit worried about the agenda he laid out and the path he seemed to be pursuing, but I always assumed that Americans would have more sense than to elect him again.

I closely followed the election and on election night I silently gave into what I had worried might happen all along. I spent the next few weeks listening to a lot of Bruce Springsteen, for what that's worth.

In a little more than a month, I'll be heading back to a country that seems every closer to the eye of the storm. Politically, it seems more and more of the country is beginning to distrust the Republicans. But, culturally, I'm not entirely sure how many of them trust those evil liberals. There is no third way, of course. 2006 is going to be a big year in American political life. Hell, it's going to be a big year in American life in general. The Congressional elections are going to be hugely important to bringing some semblance of balance and sanity back into American political life. And I don't intend to be on the sidelines this time.

Gang, this is a big deal. There is no other way to cut it than Microsoft has decided to back off of its previously staunch defense of gay rights. NO other way to cut it.

Sure, they've been great on gay stuff in the past, and they're now signaling that those days are over. They're more concerned now with focusing on their business. Well what we're they doing before? Supporting gays just for the hell of it?

And the bigger impact, which remains to be seen, is whether Microsoft now chucks us overboard at the national level and if other companies start to follow suit, following the corporate leader, as it were.

Microsoft should be ashamed of itself. And we should consider this a warning. It is no longer safe in America to be gay - or liberal for that matter. We've taken our rights for granted. And now they're being taken away, and our friends are being taken away by an ever-growing climate of hostility fed by an extremist administration and their Sieg Heil friends in America's Taliban.

It's time we started fighting back, and fighting back hard. It's time we took the gloves off and stopped playing nice. You're either with us or you're against us, as our enemies like to say.

Microsoft has chosen its side.

Have you?

Guardian: 'The end of oil is closer than you think'

'Oil production could peak next year, reports John Vidal. Just kiss your lifestyle goodbye.'

Wee!

Join me as I return to grade 5 and giggle over...

THE SOLAR DEATH RAY!

Nifty little waste of time

Your Linguistic Profile:

50% General American English

35% Yankee

10% Dixie

5% Midwestern

0% Upper Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Much too over-wrought at the moment

I realised today just how stressed I am right now.

My inside feels like a giant spring, coiled and ready to spring at any moment--but no realise in sight.

This is not good. At all.

I can't remember the last time that I was this stressed. And I'm not even sure why I'm this stressed.

Honestly. I have an exam tomorrow that is going to be a joke. A take-home due Thursday which I have 1/3 written and won't be a problem to finish tomorrow night/Thursday morning. Then it's fifteen pages to write for my honours thesis for Monday and another take-home for Tuesday which will also be a breeze to write. And then I'm done.

Yes, I'm worried about the future and post-grad life--but not I'm not this worried. And I'm certainly not one to lie to myself about my feelings.

So why all the tension?

After I finish next week, I plan to go out dancing Tuesday night--and then dancing again on Saturday. Because it has been far too long. That will be stress-relieving. Heavy drinking will probably be involved at some point too.

But I need some heavy-duty decompression. A meditation retreat or something. Serious, hardcore decompression.

Pope Benedict XVI

He kind of looks like a gremlin. And more conservative than John Paul II. And instrumental in crushing Liberation Theology in Latin America as well as a proponent in centralising power at the Vatican rather than spreading it amongst the bishops around the world. Vatican II was a mistake, apparently. All that sixties idealism. Alas.

So much for moving into the 21st century for the Church.

Update: apparently he was a member of the Hitler Youth.

Update 2: he's 78 this year so it probably--hopefully--won't be a long pontificate.

Update 3, from the BBC:

Wolfgang Cooper, a commentator on religious affairs in Germany, fears that the cardinal could become a divisive figure in the papacy.

'I think if Cardinal Ratzinger was pope, a large distance could grow between the leadership of the Church and the faith,' he predicted before the result was known.

The cardinal is a 'scientist' who 'prefers intellectual discussions', says Mr Cooper, whereas many Catholics want priests and bishops 'who will touch the hearts'.

BBC: Motorist's nose broken by sausage

The story ends with the line: 'Police said they were investigating.'

Excuse me while I go laugh myself to sleep.

Do I HAVE to go back?

With an assault weapon in each hand, rocker and gun rights advocate Ted Nugent urged National Rifle Association members to be 'hardcore, radical extremists demanding the right to self defense.'

'Let's next year sit here and say, "Holy smokes, the NRA has 40 million members now," he said. 'No one is allowed at our barbecues unless they are an NRA member. Do that in your life.'

[...]

He drew the most cheers when he told gun owners they should never give up their right to bear arms and should use their guns to protect themselves if needed.

'Remember the Alamo! Shoot 'em!' he screamed to applause. 'To show you how radical I am, I want carjackers dead. I want rapists dead. I want burglars dead. I want child molesters dead. I want the bad guys dead. No court case. No parole. No early release. I want 'em dead. Get a gun and when they attack you, shoot 'em.'

It's okay. I don't think I'd want to go to his barbecues anyway.

Someone correct me if I'm wrong, but the police in London STILL don't carry guns. London, the largest city in Europe. No guns. I think they might have tazers or something. But not guns. No bullets. If they really wanted to, I'm sure they could kill someone with a tazer, but that takes a lot more will than with a gun. 'Ooops. I was aiming for his leg, not his heart. Oh well. Justice has been served.'

The Second Amendment reads thus: 'A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.'

Now, I'm now constitutional law scholar, but to me that says that the right 'to keep and bear arms' is intrinsically tied to the maintenance of a 'well regulated militia'. In 1791, most of the population needed a gun. They used it to hunt in order to survive. They used it to protect their homesteads from those pesky Native Americans who seemed to think that this was their land too. And they constituted the militia that was to be a first-response in defending the new nation.

In 2005, however, the vast majority of the population does not need a gun. They don't hunt for survival. They don't need to defend their homesteads. And they're not involved in a militia.

These are the same people (and I realise that I'm making a somewhat broad generalisation) who are against abortion yet for the death penalty. I guess it's just one more contradiction in their thinking about 'the culture of life'. There should be a little star next to 'culture of life'* every time it's printed. Then, down at the bottom of the page: '*Certain restrictions apply. Not valid where prohibited by law. Check your local listings for details. Does not apply to bad people, like homosexuals, Arabs, certain Europeans…'

You get the idea.

But I still don't get why these people seem to think that they need guns.

(the link for the news story came from AmericaBlog)

Oh, the memories...

...and that damn hill.

Since we're doing the sharing thing...

...I think I've developed an allergy to my after shave. Either that, or my skin is trying tot ell me to stop shaving all together.

Holy shit!

The Japanese have done it again!

How to fold a shirt

(Linked from CosmoBlog)

Where's that memory hole...?

"The State Department decided to stop publishing an annual report on international terrorism after the government's top terrorism center concluded that there were more terrorist attacks in 2004 than in any year since 1985, the first year the publication covered.

It can't be a good sign that I giggled when I first read this.

Shudder

I inadvertently thought about Prince Charles and Camilla having sex this morning.

EWWWWWWWWW! MAKE IT STOP!

Remebering Juan Pablo II

Seriously the best picture of John Paul...ever.

(from La Repubblica's audio slide show of 'papabili' - the Italian word for possible popes, a combination of the words for 'pope' and 'probable'.)

Casco Bay Books - Portland, Maine 04101

I want to work here. This summer. I have decided. But the question is do they want me to work for them?

A moon base?

I'd really hoped that this had just quietly died. Before you go on to read the article, here is the Boondocks' take on the idea, from a year ago when Bush first suggested it:

Um, yay?

My horoscope from Free Will Astrology this week:

A reviewer in the San Francisco Chronicle said this about Judy Budnitz's book Nice Big American Baby: 'Reading Budnitz's stories is like experiencing the exhilaration of flight with the queasiness of vertigo. She can take you to new heights, but don't expect a comfortable ride.' While this may be a good assessment of the book, it's also an apt description of your immediate future, Cancerian. According to my analysis of the astrological omens, you will be veering back and forth between feelings akin to a rapturous flying dream and a dizzying free fall. Don't worry: There'll be a mostly happy ending, even if you feel a bit airsick as you arrive in the winner's circle.

Wow

My last class was today.

I feel very...empty in a way.

But I still have plenty of work to get done in the next two weeks. It's not time to party yet.

On the menu:

Post-Colonial Latin American History, post-midterm. Which really means post-Mexican Revolution Latin American History.

History and Sexuality take-home final: writing about general theory stuff on sexuality as well as either courtly love or Margery Kempe.

The rest of my honours paper on Cotton Mather and science.

Italian Renaissance gender and sexuality take-home final: writing about the construction of masculinity in the Italian Renaissance and the general regulation of sexuality during the same period.

That's done the 26th. Then I'm done. That night, I plan to go out to Cabaret Mado and drink a lot--but not too much because I'm then working for the following four days straight, after which I will never have to have another drop of my soul sucked by that bookstore.

And then I will sleep.

And it will be blissful.

The Decembrists - 16 Military Wives

Something tells me we won't be seeing this video on MTV anytime soon, but, wow, what a video and what a song. American foreign policy as it truly is: a high school bully.

(via Atrios)

Two weeks

Two weeks from now, I'll be done with my BA. What a fucking scary thought.

But then I will sleep.

And sleep is good.

Fuck You And Your H2

With 185 pages of people giving the finger to Hummers!

Saturday's Random Fact

No British MP can die in the Houses of Parliament. There is a rule that the death certificate of any MP who has died at Westminster Palace must have the place of death as St Thomas' Hospital (across the River Thames).

Those crazy Brits.

Yttrium..wtf?

It's an actual element, oddly enough...See Wikipedia

Y...Yttrium You scored 47 Mass, 26 Electronegativity, 71 Metal, and 0 Radioactivity!

Yttrium? Yttrium??? You're messing with me, right? That's not a real element. Really? If you say so. Okay... how about: You are really a solitary creature, and you're somewhat set in your ways. You work, consciously or subconsciously, towards the betterment of society, but I guess you do this by befriending it's strangest elements. You're kind of a spaceman/woman, but in the end you're allright. You should try to be with the benign weirdos of the world because, by goodness, no one else will. Oh, it says here that you are abundant on the moon. Interpret as you will.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender : You scored higher than 90% on Mass You scored higher than 36% on Electroneg You scored higher than 86% on Metal You scored higher than 0% on Radioactivity

Link: The Which Chemical Element Am I Test written by effataigus on Ok Cupid

Your Inner European is French!

Your Inner European is French!

Smart and sophisticated. You have the best of everything - at least, *you* think so.

Who's Your Inner European?

Schweet

http://www.royalweddingcam.com

Absolutely, horrifically disgusting

From Think Progress.

I'm glad that the American Chemistry Council can pay the Environmental Protection Agency to perform experiments for them on low-income, minority kids. I guess they're essentially like lab rats anyway. The punch line (as if there needs to be something more) is that the programme was called the Children's Environmental Exposure Research Study or CHEERS.

It’s good to know that some senators are doing their research on President Bush’s nominees. Senator Boxer was the star of yesterday’s confirmation hearing for Stephen Johnson, Bush’s nominee to lead the EPA. She dug up information on a little-known program being sponsored by the EPA and the American Chemistry Council in Duval County, Florida.

The program targets low-income African-American families and asks parents to videotape their children crawling around a pesticide-infested environment (their homes). Scientists watch the tapes and regularly test the babies for pesticide exposure. In return, the families can keep the video camera and are paid $970 over two years.

Today's random fact from Wikipedia

A passage from Augustine's de Doctrina Christiana has been seen as a fore-runner of the free software movement, as it expressed the philosophy that knowledge, unlike physical possessions, must be freely shared: 'For if a thing is not diminished by being shared with others, it is not rightly owned if it is only owned and not shared.'

A softer world.

The guy who writes this and the associated comic is a friend of a friend (of a friend? I forget how many friends). I've never met him, but he is a genius. Incidentally, I'm posting this because it kind of fits how I'm feeling right now. Still rather 'blah'.

The concept of this is that he writes cover letters to companies, pretending to be applying for jobs. I don't know if he actually sends these things off or if he just writes them and posts them here. In any event, I'll let this one speak for itself (and for me, for that matter):

To: Nintendo
Re: Game Design

Dear Nintendo,

I am writing to apply for the position of game designer with your company. We have a chance here to help children experience games that are more true to life than any game before them. Computer graphics have improved and improved and improved, and some day soon we're going to have to ask ourselves where we can go next in our search for realism.

We need virtual pet games where you clean and feed and love your furry little friend and that car still comes out of nowhere so smoothly, a god of aerodynamics and passenger safety. Where you hear your father's quiet joke that night, when he thinks you are asleep.

We need a new Mario game, where you rescue the princess in the first ten minutes, and for the rest of the game you try and push down that sick feeling in your stomach that she's "damaged goods", a concept detailed again and again in the profoundly sex negative instruction booklet, and when Luigi makes a crack about her and Bowser, you break his nose and immediately regret it. When Peach asks you, in the quiet of her mushroom castle bedroom "do you still love me?" you pretend to be asleep. You press the A button rhythmically, to control your breath, keep it even.

We need an airport simulator, where the planes carry your whole family from A to B, job to job, and dad still drinks in the shower and your older sister still has casual sex that she confides might bring back a feeling she's certain she didn't imagine. Where the plane touches down and you all lean forward in your seats because of inertia, and again and again someone says "I hate to fly".

Yours,

Joey Comeau

For your enjoyment

Random silliness. Click the link.

Odd

FoxTrot and Get Fuzzy used the same exact joke today. Lame.