Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Hey, I'm alive
In Vancouver now, breathing the fresh air when it's not saturated with weed air. Went down to Davie street tonight, to walk around aimlessly, and bought some nice green onions for my tuna veggie wrap I haven't yet concocted. I rarely use that word, 'concocted'. Must be the Davie street excursion influencing my preference for certain sounds.
I read a funny thing by Lynne Truss in her book of proper punctuation (Eats, Shoots & Leaves). I giggled for 34 seconds off and on:
"As with other paired bracketing devices (such as parentheses, dashes and quotation marks), there is actual mental cruelty involved, incidentally, in opening up a pair of commas and then neglecting to deliver the closing one. The reader hears the first shoe drop and then strains in agony to hear the second. In dramatic terms, it's like putting a gun on the mantelpiece in Act I and then having the heroine drown herself quietly offstage in the bath during the interval. It's just not cricket. Take the example, 'The Highland Terrier is the cutest, and perhaps the best of all dog species.' Sensitive people trained to listen for the second comma (after 'best') find themselves quite stranded by that kind of thing. They feel cheated and giddy. In very bad cases, they fall over."
current mood:
touched
TV Rewires kids' brains
I read a funny thing by Lynne Truss in her book of proper punctuation (Eats, Shoots & Leaves). I giggled for 34 seconds off and on:
"As with other paired bracketing devices (such as parentheses, dashes and quotation marks), there is actual mental cruelty involved, incidentally, in opening up a pair of commas and then neglecting to deliver the closing one. The reader hears the first shoe drop and then strains in agony to hear the second. In dramatic terms, it's like putting a gun on the mantelpiece in Act I and then having the heroine drown herself quietly offstage in the bath during the interval. It's just not cricket. Take the example, 'The Highland Terrier is the cutest, and perhaps the best of all dog species.' Sensitive people trained to listen for the second comma (after 'best') find themselves quite stranded by that kind of thing. They feel cheated and giddy. In very bad cases, they fall over."
current mood:
touchedTV Rewires kids' brains
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
The Dishwasher ?
Well, I have tons of potential. I can do anything my heart desires. I can entertain thoughts without internalizing them. I know myself and my strengths. I let myself express the divinity; the core of me is free to create as I will, my will is aligned with the Good, blah blah blah. I have fun playing on this canvas. Because I wash dishes, baby!
Okay, not yet. Maybe not ever; at least not as an employee of some swanky hipster joint. But da-amn, boys -- me needs me rent money. Oh wait.. mustn't go fighting for needs that I don't really want, now... Then again: what we resist, we become.. Oh the joys of soaking baked-mango dishes. The joys of which I don't know. Do I want it? Do I want to swallow my massively huge ego and voluntarily apply for a position as dishwasher? It might be good for me, if for nothing else but to remind me that I don't want to wash dishes for a living. I mean, what would my parents think? Would anyone love me? *gasp* They would think I'm a moron; this is more material to confirm their suspicions that my aspirations are shallow and unchallenging... Ooooh the thought of it excites me.
Okay, so far this crisis has made plain that a) I am being a suckie baby OVER NOTHING b) there are things worth doing well so I might as well do them all well so as not to miss what I think is not one of those things c) grammar is for schoolchildren d) I care more about what other people think of me than I care about other people e) maybe I should slow down f) life doesn't wait for us to get things right g) so many things matter; this isn't one of them. This is a symptom of a confusion of values. What is important to me... Let's re-evaluate. All the cool kids are doing it, so why can't we? Mmm I love cranberries with taters. Don't take me seriously unless you enjoy confusion. I tried to tell ya.
I love you.
Wipe that smile off your face before putting it in the dishwasher; thanks.
current mood: Here
current music: Scissor Sisters - Take Your Momma Out Tonight
Okay, not yet. Maybe not ever; at least not as an employee of some swanky hipster joint. But da-amn, boys -- me needs me rent money. Oh wait.. mustn't go fighting for needs that I don't really want, now... Then again: what we resist, we become.. Oh the joys of soaking baked-mango dishes. The joys of which I don't know. Do I want it? Do I want to swallow my massively huge ego and voluntarily apply for a position as dishwasher? It might be good for me, if for nothing else but to remind me that I don't want to wash dishes for a living. I mean, what would my parents think? Would anyone love me? *gasp* They would think I'm a moron; this is more material to confirm their suspicions that my aspirations are shallow and unchallenging... Ooooh the thought of it excites me.
Okay, so far this crisis has made plain that a) I am being a suckie baby OVER NOTHING b) there are things worth doing well so I might as well do them all well so as not to miss what I think is not one of those things c) grammar is for schoolchildren d) I care more about what other people think of me than I care about other people e) maybe I should slow down f) life doesn't wait for us to get things right g) so many things matter; this isn't one of them. This is a symptom of a confusion of values. What is important to me... Let's re-evaluate. All the cool kids are doing it, so why can't we? Mmm I love cranberries with taters. Don't take me seriously unless you enjoy confusion. I tried to tell ya.
I love you.
Wipe that smile off your face before putting it in the dishwasher; thanks.
current mood: Here
current music: Scissor Sisters - Take Your Momma Out Tonight
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)