"Hints, Allegations and Things Left Unsaid"

I finally get that that title is completely redundant! When this album first came out in 1994, (Collective Soul's first? I think?) I was only 10 and I didn't understand what an "allegation" was.

Funny, though, my brother's friend had the CD so I borrowed it, taped it (yes! An audio-cassette! Wow!) and listened to it non-stop. Slightly illegal, but I was in Grade 4 and had no money (besides, I bought three of their later albums when they came out...and they weren't as good. Meh). I even memorized the song order and lyrics because I listened to it so much. Mostly car trips and such. I remember skipping over "Scream" because it was too angry-sounding. (This from the one who now cranks up "angry music" when she's pissed and needs someone to sympathise with).

Listening to it again made me actually read the title and realize that I didn't even understand the frigging title of this album that I used to listen to so much. Oops. Yeah, so a moment of nostalgia from yours truly. Back to my 223 assignment.

Mmm... Poncy...

Nothing like post-modern, contemporary Canadian literature for a big dose of ponciness, both reading and writing about it. Re-reading In the Skin of a Lion for my essay. I'm happy to report that I have finished the section on Noise (see previous post) and am happily writing about exile as a catharsis after the loss of a loved one (also known as wallowing). My favourite lines:

- I fell in love with a guy named Stump Jones when I was sixteen.
- Stump!
- There was a problem with the name.
- I'll say.

Apologies to all the Stump Joneses out there and all those who like poncy post-modern, contemporary Canadian literature. Contact Mr. Ondaatje with any complaints because I don't give a crap. Have a nice day, guv'na!

HipsterJames, his libido and Toronto!TheGreat

"We have met the enemy, and he is Russ"

I really, really don't like his book. Sorry Mr. Smith, but Toronto is not New York. Suburban life is not a backwater hellhole full of duplexes and backyards and morons (morons thrive wherever they go, suburban and urban areas alike). There's a whole other side of the suburbs that can't be understood if you're convinced that the city is the only place to experience culture, to eat, to meet fascinating people, to furthur your career, or to enjoy life. Argh.

And with the exception of his mother and his landlady, every female character in the book gets the main character all hot and bothered. Geez. If I can't even stand the main character how can I write an essay about the book. Argh again.

And since my last class of the day was cancelled, and I really need to get started on this essay, I skipped my second last class to work at home. But here I am, typing away, completely not working. Argh once, argh twice, argh thrice.

On the plus side, it's the first day since the beginning of "spring" that actually feels like Spring. I can breath again.

My Little Pony, Thundercats, Popples and The Snorks

"Yes! I said the right thing! FINALLY!! ADMIT IT!!!"

Ha ha. Sometimes I think I resemble Angie too much. Any child of the eighties needs to read some As If!. For poops and giggles and nostalgic purposes. Archives aren't completely up yet, so the strips start about halfway through the story. Still full of eighties goodness though.

Ah, the days of scrunchies, GI JOE, and neon striped spandex biking shorts. (And you, you shut up, because you know you had a pair, too.)

I'm really too young to remember much from the Decade of Big Hair (by the end of the 80's I was just barely in elementary school), so my memories are mostly of toys, cartoons and kiddy trends.

Anybody remember those slap-bracelets that were a strip of metal sewn into a piece of fabric? (You know, you straighten it out and slap it onto your wrist and it curls around and forms a bracelet. Yeah, those were banned from my school in Grade 1 because they were "dangerous.") Or reading The Babysitter's Club books back when Claudia's fashion's actually sounded cool? Or sticker collecting, The Smoggies (SUNTOTS!! Eeee!), and My Pet Monster? And last but not least, The Berenstain Bears.

It all seems so cheesy and ridiculous now; I mean, the popularity of neon pink, the frizzled hair, the sheer garishness of 80's society. It'll be funny to see how people decades from now will react to the skanky-chique fashions and tv "dramas" (like the O.C.) of today. Fond amusement? Disgust? Surprise at how little has changed?

A quiz, fitting in with the 80's theme:

discover what candy you are @ quiz me

A Now, A Quotation

To quote Wnd: "My baby don' mess around because he loves me so and this I know 'fo shooooo..... HEEEEEEEEYAAAAA! HEEEYAAAAA!!"

Imagine that in an incredibly loud, shrill voice and you pretty much have life in my house for the last two days. We just serenaded Bento with that and busted her eardrums. Ah, good times. University life.

Engineering "Supa Semi" last night at the Portsmouth Harbour banquet hall. Lots of good music, lots of boozed up people. Was majorly put off from dancing because of the heaving mass of grinding couples oozing around the dance floor. We all sat at a table for most of the night and talked (pushed, poked, harassed, whatever). Stalked the Harry Potter look-alike for a while (lead singer of local band), amusedly watched Wnd be stalked by gimpy little fellow (ha ha), danced a little, was elbowed and nudged by the grinders for a while until got sick of them and sat down again, and then was tired and hungry for the rest of the night.

Yeah, hungry now. Dinnertime.

Longing for Hong Kong

Wow. Reading the latest blog at aiyah.net really reminded me of how much I want to travel:

...mongkok, i don't think there's any other place like it. it pulses with electricity yet at the same time, the overload of information from people, colors, sounds and smells is inconprehensible. you can literally stand there in the middle of the street and not move while the feeling like you've been caught in a time warp as everyone else in super speed motion - like you're fast forwarding a movie. i don't know know why but mongkok always exudes a feeling that it's very real, very much of what i think of hong kong without the pretty packaging that many tv shows show you. it's gritty, it's raw, it's intense.

It's exactly how I felt the last time I was in HK. It's not the shopping (which is fantastically cheap), or the food (which is fantastically good) or seeing relatives (who are...a little quirky). Watch Lost In Translation and you'll sort of understand. Well, minus Bill Murray and the fancy hotel. The scenes where Scarlett Johansson is wandering around Tokyo by herself.

Slight chance that I'll be going back next winter with my family for my cousin's wedding. Here's hoping that all the scheduling works out!

Blog-o-rific

Wow, all of a sudden, lots of friends (both old and new) have popped up on the web and started journals at Livejournal or Blogger. To control this tidal wave of new-found blogs, please to direct attention (sic) to the Pals list of links. More for my own convenience than anything, but wibble. There it is.

In other news, Hell Week is truly living up to its name. Dammit. I was hoping it was a sham and/or dead. Instead, it turns out to be very very real and very much so alive. In the immortal words of Mr. Gibbs: "Curse you for breathing you slack-jawed idiot!"

Success!

I got sick of the garish orange template provided by Blogger so I changed it. I wrote this template a while ago, but changed it to the black and white one (which may someday be revived as well) and then to the tea-themed one. Whee! A headache with all the tables and colours (not to mention finding a host for the image file) but it turned out nice.

Correction: I just remembered the reason why I stopped using this design was because some guy copied my code and tried to pass it off as his own. Unfortunately for him, he tried to change the title image and facked up the table sizes. He also neglected to remove MY web counter from MY code and all the visits to "his" page from the first couple of days were reffered to my Sitemeter account. Grr...

Bork! Bork! Bork!

So I had this great little post about how I love Mozilla Firefox because it's fast, slick, allows tabbed browsing, blocks unwanted ads and has a really cute logo, but then Blogger killed it. Oh well. The previous run-on sentence can take it's place. Otherwise, not much has happened lately, but next week is Hell Week(TM) Part 2. You know, university would be lot more fun if it weren't for all this homework. It would be a lot easier too if only they didn't insist on this 'midterm' nonsense. So as a break from my studying, I did a whole bunch of tests and other blog-type things. Enjoy.

The Completely Pointless Personality Quiz

My goddamn rock solid ghetto shiznit name is
Tempestuous Teapot, Yo. What's yours?
Powered by Rum and Monkey.


Take the 100 Acre Personality Quiz!

Twenty Random Songs from My Playlist:
   1. Coldplay - Yellow
   2. Ashley MacIsaac - Sleepy Maggie
   3. Chantal Kreviazuk - Surrounded
   4. Jamiroquai - Little L
   5. The Tragically Hip - The KillerWhaleTank song
   6. Haibane Renmei - Ethereal Remains
   7. Garbage - Stupid Girl
   8. Better Than Ezra - Good
   9. Foo Fighters - All My Life
   10. Bon Jovi - Wanted Dead or Alive
   11. House of Pain - Jump Around
   12. Foo Fighters - Everlong
   13. Ayumi Hamasaki - Endless Sorrow
   14. Tarzan Soundtrack - Son of Man
   15. Matchbox 20 - Long Day
   16. The Oystars - Nanka Shiwase
   17. Sky - Some Kinda Wonderful
   18. Diana Krall - Sunny Side of the Street
   19. Live - All Over You
   20. Tanya Chua - Blue Moon

Tomato is what I taste like. I taste like nothing, except a tomato. I'm sometimes sweet and sometimes tart; sometimes juicy, sometimes crisp. The roles of a tomato are many and varied. I am an exception to all the rules. What Flavour Are You?

find your inner PIE @ stvlive.com
...ha ha. I'm a little tart.

"A ridiculous quantity of notes."

That's just a phrase by Don Ross quoted in an article in the Queen's Journal that I think is really funny, and very accurate. When he plays, he leaves you with a ridiculous quantity of notes.

Anyhoo.

Continuing in the sluggish existance that I've found myself in for most of the winter term so far. However, the weather is getting warmer, the snow is almost all melted, and I've gradually become less lethargic. Wow, this term has been really...depressing; loads of work and cold besides. Thus the lack of updates.

But now that I'm thawing out and experiencing a brief respite from my computing courses, I'm ready to update this thing. Here we go.

Home stuff: Engagement dinner went along fine; tons of people, tons of coats. People very impressed by the devotion of the siblings pressed into service by their oldest brother/sister (respectively). No, really it was neat. Basement all dark and 'cool' (Ho-Ming's "Ten-Forward" theme... Such a geek), way too much food left over.

Pals: Finally got together with the G/Jens and Tiff: dinner at Chopstix downtown (sort of like Zyng, but cheaper and better and yuppier) and then dessert at Milestone's near the Chum building (saw Rick Campanelli inside Much and also Mark Daly leaving in one of those CityTV Jeeps. You know, the Dilbertish-guy with the really deep voice that does the news. And the CityTV movie commercial voiceovers. See, I knew you'd recognize him.

Queensing: Blah blah blah homework blah blah donate money blah blah student centre blah.

"Hoosing": As you should know by know, it is mine and Wnd's ambition (grammar?) to degrade our speech to the point where we can no longer be understood by anyone outside of our immediate household. (Lydia should consider herself lucky that we actually stop in the middle of a conversation to explain new terms to her.) "Hoosing" is one such term. So are "HOOJ", "chudoin", "frickitive" and "muhar". I'll leave it to you to figure them out. This will not help. Sorry.

"Housing": Is what "hoosing" means. We (Lydia, Wnd, and I) have found a new apartment, a nice roomy three-person on Princess, downtown Kingston. We'll be even closer to a Shopper's next year. Muhar. Ten foot ceilings, a HOOJ kitchen, and another Scary Alleyway of Doom(TM).