It just seems that "Russia" fits in so well with other odd cliches... I had already considered "Russia is bustin' out all over," in fact!

Sam, don't worry about not calling, babeh, I understand and I figured something like that had happened. No worries 'tall.

La-nai, HI! I will do my thang... I WILL do my thang!

Erin, I'm moving to Ottawa in September for my Master's of Journalism at Carleton... will you still be there!!??! I really hope so, 'cause I'm not looking too forward to moving there... I perceive it as isolated.

Last night I went to see the Preservation Hall Jazz Band at the jazz festival, and it was SO WICKED. We totally got up and danced really embarassingly and badly, but I had so much fun... I thought of all my lovely jazz friends, and how much they would have enjoyed it in an olde tyme way. Woot!
http://www.preservationhall.com/2.0/about_the_band.php

Hey ho, homies,

I just wanted to provide a link to where most of my worldly time is going nowadays-- the site Mike and I have set up to showcase our work while we are at, and leading up to, the G8 summit in St. Petersburg that I'm covering for the G8 Research Group at U of T.

Take a looksee at http://g8live.ca if you want to keep up to date on my news articles and blogs before, and during my time in Russia-- I'll be leaving for Moscow on the 9th of July... the countdown has begun!

Date:	2005-08-16 13:46
Subject:	The Grumblies
Security:	Public
Mood:	anxious

Truly, I have no idea why my body reacts in ways it does when I clearly ask it not to.

Brianna's Mind: Hey there, sexy body, stop sweating and all that fast heart-beating! It's not helping nobody!

Body: TWHACKITA TWHACKITA, SPURT SPURT.

I have approximately twenty minutes to kill until I march down to those elegent cement gates at the bottom of King's College Circle to write the first of two exams I have this week. Consequently, I have decided it is a great time to post on LJ as I have been ignoring it in favour of learning about penal reforms for the past week or so. Ha. Penal.

The problem, though, is that I really like the idea of reserving this space for interesting ideas that I can talk about intelligently. I really don't think any of you are too interested in the questionability of crime statistics in the Victorian era, so that's out the window. Unfortunately, that's pretty much the only thing that's been on my mind for several days, even appearing in dreams!

I have decided that the best way to tackle this problem is to randomly select a story from YahooNews and give a little riff on it. Just a little rappita-rappita, to get those authorial juices flowing (note to self: remember to find a working pen before you leave the house). So, here we go.

I was going to write about the Venezuelan plane passengers that are feared dead, but honestly there really wasn't much wiggle room on that one. I fear it too-- almost as much as I fear several musicals from Andrew Lloyd Webber. The most notable members of this category are Cats and Phantom of the Opera. In the case of Phantom, if I even THINK about the opening sequence (ie: "let us ressurect the ghost of so many years ago... a little ILLUMINATION, gentlemen!"), I basically need to be held into the wee hours of the morning. Hey, it's like 1pm on a sunny afternoon and I'm more than a little afraid right now. Anyhoo, what I think I'll give me little two cents on is something that is nearer and dearer to my heard: the Ceeb.

As you may know, I worked at the CBC for several years as a lackey in the administrative department of Business Affairs. I met many a jolly co-worker, became dependant on Ooh La La cafe's infamously weak coffee, and actually became very attached to the idea of a public media corporation. It's true that many dramatic enterprises on the Ceeb aren't worth your spit (yes that's right, not even YOUR spit). I don't remember ever rushing home to watch "This is Wonderland." However, I DO remember rushing home to watch "Shattered City: The Halifax Explosion." And, basically, the only thing that brings my father and I together intellectually is their newsmagazine show "Sunday."

It was on "Sunday" that I saw one of the most interesting and moving documentaries of my life: "Deadline: Iraq." This program, for which my dear friend Rose fought mercilessly while pregnant to acquire the rights for over the course of several months even after it had initially aired, detailed the experiences of journalists in the front lines during the war that they DIDN'T include in their broadcasts. It showed how gruelling the life of a correspondant can be, and also gave a unique perspective on the much-debated events. I would supply the link to the program, but unfortunately due to the labour dispute cbc.ca is about as useful as a humanities degree in the real world (har har).

The labour dispute that is currently preventing you from reading about that doc, and that is beaming BBC news feed into my home which only usually has access to local content (yay BBC!), is creating an interesting conflict for the Corporation.

What the Corporation wants out of this deal is basically the freedom to hire a greater percentage of casual workers (like I previously was), and get rid of soem of the bulky and long-term committments they make by virtue of the workers union. The union, Canadian Media Guild, is obviously not cool with this, because it means workers will lose benefits, and have little to no job security. See my search for a summer job for details.

However bitter I may have been at the canning of my sweet sweet booty due to this practice, and however inevitable this response from CMG is, I think I actually may support the Ceeb here.

By allowing a greater fluidity of work, the content would necessarily become more competetive and diverse. Maybe this would lead to less shoddy programming, and a higher standard on the network that is supported by your 80 cents a day (it's true!).

The argument against ye olde Corp is that it's shooting itself in the foot, forcing people to go to other stations during this labour dispute. While this may be true for the fickle viewer, I also am very aware that the CBC culture is a very intense one. People that listen to, or watch CBC generally continue to do so all their lives as a matter of principle, and out of pure enjoyment of its alternative style. I personally have continued watching the channel (Old School was on last night, and BBC news rocks it and rocks it hard), and am willing to put up with some dead links on the site if it's going to result in more hard-hitting and varied content representing the country in tele-form. While this may produce more precarious work opportunities for folks like myself, I also don't think the Corp imposing particular evil here, as I think the nature of media labour is such that it demands and flourishes on change.

Well, off to go purge myself of various dates and themes.

Date:	2005-08-10 09:42
Subject:	Studies in sanity
Security:	Public
Mood:	drained

Word, Pepys.

Since I have finally wedged myself into the "long eighteenth-century" (ie; 1660-1800) poetry and prose class for next year, I think I will be using that greeting much more often.

RING

RING

RING

"Hello, you have reached Brianna Alexis Evans Goldberg. She is unavailable for much social interaction right now, as she is busy memorizing information about nineteenth-century Contagious Diseases Acts used to regulate prostitution. Did you know that these acts instituted manditory physical examinations for all suspected prostitutes within a fifteen-mile radius of port towns, which essentially boiled down to instrumental rape? It's true. And since the safe-zone extended fifteen miles, all the prostitutes who took the train in to service the sailors were also subject to this state-sanctioned sexual assault. Although she will likely not get back to you, leave a message after the beep."

BEEEEEEEEEEP

Kevin Frankish: "Uh, hello? You, uh, you haven't been returning any of my calls. Just, uh, just wanted to see how you were. *Long Pause* I LOVE YOU!"

-------------------------------

And now, and acrostic poem.

Various sources in my studies have concluded that the
Influences weighing upon the Victorian mind resulted in an obsessive desire for
Classification and cleanliness.
The perceived "criminal class," a label thrust upon all members of the lower
Orders, continued to pervade the British psyche.
Realistically, there was much crime in the elite classes,
Ignored by the higher orders
And the law.
Naturally, to protect their own righteous

Sense of self, the elites used the poor, such as the
East end Londoners as scapegoats for this
Notion of crime as inherent in certain
Social and geographic locales.
In all seriousness, there was a
Bloody lot of hanky panky going on
In areas
Like the East end, but personally
I still would have liked to have seen one of
Those staunchy upper class snots take responsibility. I can't think of anything that starts with
Y
---------------------------

Date:	2005-08-08 00:08
Subject:	La Boheme-- now with STDs!
Security:	Public
Mood:	hungry

Bonjour,

I hesitate to post this because I know a large number of my devoted readers, who pay obscene amounts of money for subscription to read my blog, are very much still in love with what I shall henceforth lambast. Please know that what Rent and I have been through together was something beautiful and meaningful, but that it is just SO OVER. A mutual parting of ways, if you will. The Platonic breakup that is never actually possible when one of the parties involved isn't a stage play. Per Jessica's post earlier, I feel I need to sort out my lingering feelings.

First of all, you have to know that my deal with Rent has been going on since like grade nine. Please know that this has been a long and somewhat torrid affair. I would loathe to think that any of you assumed this was some sort of rash reaction to the trailer I just watched.

www.sonypictures.com/movies/rent

Anyhoo. The website, surprisingly, is shoddily maintained by my standards. I mean, shizzle, if I were releasing a film in the beginning of November, I'd have my bloody film clips available for download. I want to see some non-singing content, y'know?

But seriously, folks.

I downloaded the only available video clip (the trailer), after clicking around looking for streaming of La Vie Boheme to no avail. Despite the fact that basically any footage of New York makes my loins quiver, and that Jesse Martin (of Ally McBeal fame) struts about strappingly as Tom Collins, the spot made me feel a little... well... yucky.

I first got interested in Rent in about grade nine, when it was just getting big via the Tony's and so forth. In preparation for a sleepover, to fit in with the other Rent-lovers, I memorized Mark's Mother's phone message:

"That was a very loud beep.
I don't even know if this is working.
Mark! Mark, are you there?
Are you screening your calls? It's Mom.
We just wanted to call and say we love you,
and we'll miss you tomorrow.
Sandy and the kids are here, send their love.
Oh! I hope you like the hot plate!
Just don't turn it on, dear,
when you leave the house.
Oh, and Mark, we're sorry to hear
that Maureen dumped you.I say 'c'est la vie.'
So let her be a lesbian. There are other fish in the sea.
Love, Mom."

I saw it thrice in the nosebleeds downtown, made various mix-tapes including favourite songs from the soundtrack, relentlessly copied out the lyrics to "La Vie Boheme," and even bought the score so I could strum along on me guitar.

The seeming mass popularity of Rent in my little UHS bubble may have been attributed to its nature as an arts school. There, in certain hallways, knowing how to translate Brahms into English was considered the rough equivalent of installing hydraulics on your tricked out Honda Civic for the normal teenager.

The same year as the "sleepover memorization" incident, as it became known (mostly right here and now), my choir's humungo spring medley was decided to be based on Rent. Little Brianna, in her too-big raveresque jeans purchased from Eatons, was overjoyed at the prospect of "being" a street bum on stage.

The choreographer for the curiously elaborate endeavour pushed every one of us snotty little poofs to our limits. From her I learned how to "walk with a purpose," "live like I mean it," and say fuck a lot when I want to emphasize something that really isn't all that important.

I built a character for myself to make the performance experience more "real" for the audience: Shelly, the squeegie girl from San Francisco, whose abusive parents forced her to a life on the streets in the big city. Naturally, the eight hundred tittering Hong Kong immigrants in the choir, who didn't put in so much effort, detracted from my otherwise stellar performance. Perhaps if it hadn't been for them, I would have been "discovered" at that very moment.

All the same, it was in this "medley," which was later performed for an estimated audience of twelve on the Sick Kids Telethon of that year, that sowed the seeds of performance lust in Little Brianna. Really. I remember that after those shows, for about three days I touted the metaphor that the "little peanut" of passion had been planted, and soon it would grow into an entire jar of PB.

So you can see that I'm not just patronizing Rent. It played an exceedingly important part in my life, and in particular, in my artistic interests.

However, after seeing the trailer tonight, I was totally struck by two things:

One, that this play won a Tony and a Pulitzer, toured endlessly, and now has been made into a high profile feature film, while it is obviously an abhorrent knockoff of La Boheme. Honestly, peeps, I'm all for adaptations. But taking Pucini and turning it into something that "Team America: World Police" RIGHTLY mocked with their lyrics "Everyone has aids! Aids, aids, aids, aids, aids..." Well, you know the rest.

When I saw Team America in theatres, I laughed for so long and so inappropriately loudly at the satire, because it was so abominably accurate. In trying to explain the storyline to a friend the other day, I was basically able to boil it down to "they're poor, they're being evicted, and they all have HIV." And do you know what? I couldn't even remember if they left their apartment in the end. What I do remember, however, is that we're supposed to measure our life in love. Which brings me to my next point.

The second thing that struck me was that this entity that clobbered the Pulitzer has such banal lyrical content. Seasons of love. Measure life in love. That's the sort of ambiguous touchy-feely mumbo-jumbo I'd expect from, say, Deepak Chopra. But why has this musical been so lauded when it's message is basically "luv-n-hugs!"?

There are so many mind-bending and controversial things that can and are drawn out of the AIDS in North America issue. I mean, what a complex ocean of degredation and accusation and acceptance-- watch "Angels in America" for details. One of my professors even wrote his thesis on the representation of HIV in literature. Bet his argument wasn't "love will keep us together." Although, it might be, I haven't read it.

Anyways, I try not to question the musical theatre medium since so many of my loved ones are implicated in its torrents. But in this case, I have to say that I feel in retrospect my romance with Rent was great but now it's over, and that I'm glad to be a single girl again. See you there on opening night.

Date:	2005-08-05 09:26
Subject:	On the case
Security:	Public
Mood:	contemplative

Greetings, civilians.

As you may or may not know, depending on my level of solipsism the last time we spoke, for exactly one more week my source of income is derived from closed captioning for the hearing impaired. I really like to always include the entire title "closed captioning for the hearing impaired," because generally people don't anticipate that many words to come out of your mouth when they ask you what you do for a living. Consequently, what results is most usually "Huh?" which is funny, because that's what a hearing impaired person would say. Those deaf people and their antics! Hooh!

In all actuality, I'm pretty sure that the majority of people who make use of the captions I create are not so much poor deaf Timmy from down the block, but rather drunken hooligans watching football matches at one of those horrid "___ & Firkin" chains. Regardless, I try to make my captions as expressive as possible, and to suppress my constant desire to embed profanities.

The group with which I create these captions are eight other students or recent graduates. We type away in the open concept office which provides us with tepid instant coffee and occasional muffins on "treat Wednesdays" (although THOSE have become few and far between, let me tell YOU!). As of late, a large group of subtitlers have decended on the office. You may not be aware, but there is in fact a LARGE discrepancy between subtitling and closed captioning. Captioning is intended for those who can't hear things like offscreen sirens or gunshots, and so although I do include dialogue in my files, a key component of them is also the audio cues. ANYHOO.

This throng of subtitlers outnumbers us by the dozens. For some reason I feel territorial about my office. I was there before they were, and I like to be snotty about closed captioning because nobody really knows what it is. Due to the nature of our shift work, generally I work with the same three captioners in our afternoons at the office. Also due to the nature of our shift work, we get assigned large chunks of television shows that have to be captioned NOW NOW NOW. So, for example, we will get 45 episodes of Seinfeld that need to be completed by three days from now. Thus, all the captioners get inundated with Seinfeld-y goodness, and all is well in the world. I think this creates a real sense of closeness with my fellow CC'ers, to the point where the core four of us have created a secret society about the little-known WB series Veronica Mars.

http://www.upn.com/shows/veronica_mars/

Sometimes we get a bone thrown our way, and get to complete files for a few reels of a feature film. I've had the pleasure of captioning two reels of an erotic movie, a made for tv film about Solomon, and a few others. On Wednesday, I was assigned one of these such projects.

My assignment was a straight-to-dvd release: a film adaptation of the runaway hit Christian novel series "Left Behind."

http://www.leftbehind.com/

This series, if you're too lazy to go to the link, is an extrapolation of world happenings in light of the rapture. All the believers go to heaven, and the sinners are left in a veritable hell on earth.

Apparently, as I have learned from the trusty IMDB, there have been two previous film adaptations of these works starring... wait for it... KIRK CAMERON!!!!

http://www.angelfire.com/md/moopig/

As I began the file, I couldn't control my laughter. It starts out with crashes of thunder and a background of flickering hellflames. But after my day spent with the first reel (keep in mind, I have no idea what happens after the first 40 minutes, but I do suspect that what happens to Kirk Cameron is that he remains boyishly goodlooking) I found two things about this project that have been in my mind since then.

Number one, the movie as I have experienced it thus far, is a scare tactic, right? It's trying to show weak believers what will happen to them if they don't fully commit themselves to the way of Christ. To make maximum heart-string-pullage, the movie exploits contentious contemporary issues such as terrorism, and biological warfare. What struck me about it was that it employs immediate social and political references to create an aura of reality for the audience, and then out of left field comes some medieval concept like the anti-Christ-- WHAMMO!

I was really interested in these enduring concepts of fear-- the anti-Christ, the whore of Babylon. This is not surprising, as I have such a secular crush on the Bible. However, what IS surprising that with a little research I did on the subject of the anti-Christ, people have argued that he is in fact living and functioning at THIS VERY MINUTE as the EUROPEAN UNION. That's right, the entire Union. Now, anti-Christ fingerpointing (as I have learned) has been around pretty much since Christ took the big Amtrak back to Daddy in the sky. People have even suggested the apostle Paul was the anti-Christ, claiming he deliberately misinterpreted Jesus' teachings. However, the current candidate is none other than United Nations Secretary General Kofi Annan.

Interesting thing number two is this film's marketing mandate. In October, Left Behind: World at War will be released straight to DVD indeed. But, rather than the endless string of sequels to Land Before Time, will not peter out into obscurity by doing so. Rather, the distributor is selling the DVDs and licences exclusively to churches in the United States. The plan is to open the film in over 200,000 (!!!) churches across America on the same date-- this would effectively increase viewership on opening night by 40 fold: if it had been released in theatres, it would have opened on a mere 5,000 screens. The churches are encouraged to charge admission, just as if they were movie theatres, but with the vast new audience numbers, they will make the accumulation of theatre's ten dollar tickets at five thousand theatres laughable.

Now, I know that the money is supposed to go to charitable causes, but regardless, doesn't something here smack of Hollywoodism?

I'm not sure what to think about this, but I know it is an innovative (if slightly questionable) project.

Thoughts? Concerns? Help me make sense?

Date:	2005-08-03 11:20
Subject:	In the news
Security:	Public
Mood:	hungry

To the tune of "Pretty Woman":

Ohhhh ohhhhhh ohhhhhhh

Kevin Frankish,
You supply the news,
Kevin Frankish,
In the morning when I drink my juice
Kevin Frankish...

You're so lonely,
As I can see,
You need a new best friend
Like meeeeeeeee.

It's true, folks. For over five years now I have had a non-sexual crush on everyone's favourite Breakfast Television host, Kevin Frankish. His kind eyes, his ample wearing of suspenders, his provision of traffic details-- all of these details add up, in my mind, to the perfect man.

The true tragedy of the matter is that his hulking form is broadcast mere steps from my workplace, but I neither encounter him on my way to work (since I have chosen the sissy afternoon shifts) nor ever more than rarely in the mornings-- I just can't get my arse out of bed early enough to commune with the blinking projection of his rolled-shirtsleeved-goodness... not after a night of cavorting! Well, to tell the truth, in light of my recent narcolepsy, even after a night of nigh-cavorting. Or even non-cavorting.

Consequently, I often wish I could talk to Kevy. I think he'd have a lot to say on the general direction of my life and its recurring symbols. Thus, today we will have an "imaginario" (a new term I have coined, melding both "imagine" and "scenario"... I think it will really catch on) in which the Frankish and I finally do meet.

Motivation: achieving general enlightenment, complementing his ability to deliver news briefs articulatly and effectively. And... go.

------------

KF: Well, goodmorning, folks. Here we are in the special mid-morning/nearly-noon edition of Breakfast Television. Which, I suppose, in light of the time of day, may now be known as "Brunch" or "Leakfast" Television. It's a beautiful day out there--

BG: Hello, lover.

KF: Excuse me? Who let this girl in here? Security! Security--

*Security rushes the soundstage, hustles Brianna towards the Queen Street exit*

KF: But wait... those eyes. Why, those are the most soulful eyes I've ever seen. In fact, they are the eye-soulfulness equivalent of the voice-soulfulness of Morgan Freeman in "March of the Penguins." And that, my friends, is soulful.

BG: Why do you scorn me, Kevy McSuspenderman? Don't you know I'm your biggest fan?

KF: Oh dear, I'm so sorry... I didn't realize at first. But then, once I had recognized the eye-soulfulness of which I spoke a moment ago, it has all become clear to me now.

*KF's laptop email application dings with incoming emails from disgruntled Breafast Television watchers actually wanting news*

BG: Oh, Kevin Frankish, I'm so glad we finally have a chance to meet each other. There's something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time.

*KF's inbox dings incessantly*

KF: Yes, mysterious soulful stranger, anything at all.

BG: Did you ever realize that your initials almost spell the acronym for Kentucky Fried Chicken?

KF: No, no I didn't. Most of the time I spend most of my mental energy on considering how tightly to fasten my suspenders. I have a debilitating fear of having my pants fall down, and that after my pants fall down, street urchins will crowd around me to jeer.

BG: Oh. That's weird. I thought you just liked suspenders.

KF: Nope. Debilitating fear.

*Brianna walks out of the studio in a rage of glory*

------------------

Well, there you have it. My imaginario fulfilling my life's greatest wish. Well. That was anticlimactic.

Date:	2005-08-02 09:15
Subject:	A Fortunate Series of Events
Security:	Public
Mood:	amused

To quote the prophetic 80's pop fiasco: "A-ha"!

('For those about to rock', but who are not quite sure who A-ha is, and need confirmation before they may properly be 'saluted', voici le site
http://launch.yahoo.com/ar-265722---AHa )

Yes, it's true, my friends. While I do enjoy my powerful position as editor of all things opinionated, I also miss the creativity and freedom provided by the now-folded Ryerson NightViews arena. Where will the latent philosopher now expound her great treatises... treatisee... treatisi?

Well, as good olde Michel Foucault always said, "Brianna Alexis Evans Goldberg, that, my dear, is what Livejournal is for." A-ha.

Also, after reading Jessica's post about Rockapella, the blog medium has been redeemed in my eyes. Also: the sequel, in re-reading my old entries I realize that I find myself totally hillarious and would be doing 35 year-old me a disservice if she went to go read embarrassing old entries and found that the last one was before I even closed captioned independent film handjobs for a living. Mm-hm.

So, anyhoo, I was all like: "Yeah, yeah, blog is good and creative outlet. Maybe since I'm allegedly using it as philosophical soapbox, I should put it in the form of dialogues, like the my good friend So-crates."

And then I was like, "Okay, but with whom would I be having the dialogues? Who would push me to my mental limits?"

And then it came to me, my old standby, the man to whom I have devoted a good part of my childhood non-sexual crushes and some of my adult journalistic energy: Count Von Count.

Although, I think, sometimes to switch it up, Kevin Frankish may make a guest appearance. Because even though he is ageing and married, and this morning Breakfast Television put up new 7-day forecast weather sidebars that are ugly as bum, I still love and respect him.

http://www.citytv.com/toronto/tvshows_breakfasttelevision.aspx

Count Von Count: So, my little ordinator, how many bowls of Cheerios did you have this morning-- one, wa-ha-ha? Two, wa-ha-ha? Three, wa-ha-ha????

Brianna Goldberg: What... what do you mean? What is the underlying subtext of this seemingly benign question that would in fact belie my indescretions and assumptions? What are you trying to expose, you twisted bastard?

CVC: The answer lies in you, and only you. You can't ask my cute little puppet bats for help this time. Only when you need stencils for Halloween decorations may they truly come to your aid. Wa-ha-ha.

BG: Okay, okay, must calm down. Hmmmmmm... hmmmm.... achieving inner peace... hmmmm.... and.... we're good. Okay. So, you ask me how many bowls of Cheerios I ate today, despite the fact that you know I only EVER eat one. Are you encouraging me to re-evaluate my nutrition regime? Am I looking a little soft around the waistline???

CVC: *Mucking about wildly with abacus*

BG: Alright, I you are ignoring that hypothesis. Perhaps, instead, the true hard-hitting question was couched within the greater query. "Ordinator," you said. Hmmm...

CVC: One, batty-batty-bat... Two, batty-batty-bat...

BG: A-ha! (Taaaaake onnnnn meeeeeee....) The true aim of your question was to force me to realize that I am sadly measuring out my life with coffee spoons! You're right, CVC, I must live every day to its fullest, as if it were the last. Just like they tell me to in the Rent soundtrack. Except I don't have AIDS.

CVC: Wa-ha-ha, my little ordinator, you have cracked my code of subtlety. Now I must return to my lair to fix the hemline on my new cape.

BG: I love you, Count Von Count.

CVC: I love you, too, Jonathan Taylor Thomas.

Brianna's thought for the day: Have you ever, like, noticed how close the English word "ordinance," meaning organization and order, is to the French word "ordure," meaning garbage? I have.

P.S. In retrospect, the Count is a shitty tutor. Stay tuned for other, more probing philosopher kings including Marmaduke, Regis Philbin, and my teddy bear with the nylon face that got all ripped off in the laundry.

Date:	2005-04-14 10:47
Subject:	Brechtfast... the sequel.
Security:	Public
Mood:	indifferent

Yes yes, I thought I was so clever when I went to the Ryerson Student Theatre production of "Good Woman of Setzuan" and called it my "brecht-fast" (hee hee). Thus, I flog the dead horse.

*pshh pshhh*

*neigh!*

I have been a little play-reading machine the past few days and I plan to continue said progress. Brecht's "Mother Courage" however, has definitely been the lightest of the bunch. It's just a shame that I'm essentially speed reading through these masterpieces of modern drama (not giving them full attention), and also that they all end up with someone dying or finding out they're the product of incest or another equally as depressing denuement (making me sad). I think I experienced a similar weepiness at the library last year while reading "To The Lighthouse" (MRS RAMSAY!!! I LOVE YOU!!!), but this is more trying because there are just soooo many of them. At least with Woolf there was a little lighthearted Eliot to throw into the mix. Anyhoo.

I'm loving "Mother Courage" even though I'm having great difficulty making sense of a play set in the seventeenth century that is using essentially mid-century American colloquialisms. Also, were guns invented during the crusades? I can't tell if he's being anachronistic or whether I'm just a big idiot.

Also.

I loooooove my breakfast. Every morning, I'm so happy to wake up so I can have my coffee and cereal. The cereal, for the two years I've lived on my own, and most of the year I was in residence, has been cheerios. I love how they're not too overwhelming for my morning taste buds! However, recently, I bought a box of Mini-Wheats as a "novelty cereal"... intended for before-bed snacks and the like. But of course, who in their sleepy morning state can refuse icing-covered squares? Not me, I tell you. Not me. So for about two weeks I've been eating these Mini-Wheats instead. And I can't for the love of God figure out why-- they're ALWAYS a huge letdown! Even by the time I take the bowl of them down the hall from the kitchen they're already soggy. I don't particularly like the icing. They don't compliment my coffee (my one and ONLY coffee a day now!!!) as well as ye olde cheerios. Why do I continue this monotonous torture? I will finish the box, but if you hear anything more about Mini-Wheats, please slap me in the face. Hard.

We're all still getting together over the summer, or it'll be "up your ziggy with a wah wah brush" for those who crap out. You heard me. So look out.

Date:	2005-04-12 10:42
Subject:	The Varsity: A rag, or not a rag? That is the qvestion...
Security:	Public
Mood:	calm

Ahoy.

Well I'm not too sure about the ins and outs of the whole Varistay thing (I will refer to is as such for as long as I can remember to, because I find it funnier), but this is what I do know. Tabassum, the Arts Editor, didn't even go to U of T, and she has held that coveted position for years. So, I don't think writers have to be U of T students... and even if they do, I'm sure nobody is checking. I mean, I write for the Ryerson Continuing Ed paper (TALK ABOUT A RAG!! HAHAHA!!!!), and nobody knows I don't go to Ryerson.

Except when I write articles that betray my obvious extensive knowledge of English Literature they do not offer in courses at Ry High... but for that, I blame myself.

Anyhoo, I will look into this, because not only would I like to have a Phil or Jenn rant, I would also like to find out if I can keep writing for the Ryerson paper or whether that is a no-no. I hope not. How many papers let me write about the virtues of Count von Count as a Muppet "other"? Not many. Not many at all.

Wow, I got a really really good sleep last night for the first time in WEEKS. I think I can finally relax now. My goals for this week are to learn how to smoke pot without throwing up or coughing up a lung (will need a coach for this... Alan???), study to the 1/2 way point of my modern drama class, and continue to nap and hike and eat healthy. Since the weather has been nice, I have been compelled to eschew my normal schedule of grilled cheese and pad thai, and instead have wanted nice healthy fresh salads and so on. And I actually feel, like, a lot better because of it. It's just such a shame I couldn't maintain the healthiness over the winter. I tried! I bought the same groceries I do now, it was just that I didn't want them so they would go bad.... well... anyways, here comes the summer healthy.

Tina, I'm in that Philosophy of Sexuality course. Take it with me!!!

Also, my cuticles hurt.

Date:	2005-04-11 20:23
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	blah

Oh Tina... I can't do anything but send you a massive massive hug. *HUG* There is nothing I can say that will make you feel better... it's been six months for me now (after a 4 year relationship), and I still have nightmares about that aweful aweful time.

I was watching an episode of Carnivale last night and this one character was about to commit suicide, and some really lame 1930s cop reached his hand out and was like "Hey buddy, no matter how bad you think it is, there ain't nobody that it hasn't happened to before you." And (disregarding the poor presentation of '30s southern California dialect) that was/is what I find so consistently surprising about the whole dating thing-- it really rips your life apart, but that is the nature of being on the prowl for somebody. It doesn't matter what people want out of the hunt-- someone to cuddle with, to play pictionary with, or to fuck (or some combination of the preceding)-- it is inevitably emotionally torrential and I hate it.

I think the problem for me is that I have this obsessive desire to be disinterested and unattached, but I'm just not cut out to be that way... Hooray airing of emotional baggage. Anyways.

Seriously not looking forward to this summer in any way. No. Not even a little.

Don't want to take courses, don't want to start new job no matter how much I try to convince myself, don't want to negotiate long distance relationship (REALLY REALLY REALLY DON'T... blehhhhh...). I don't even think I want bbq all that much... and that's rather telling. It may just be post-school freakout, but I am both dreading the non-schedule-ness of pre-exam time, and also the insane schedule my summer will take once classes and job start. Somebody hold me. Jenn, I'll be waiting for you to do so at the end of next week.

Pfffffffffffft.

I think likely it's post-school-freakout.

Ohhh... and, I got the Varsity editor position. So you will all write for me. Or die.

*draws gun menacingly*

Date:	2005-04-06 17:33
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	drained

Word.

Okay, first off, to Jessica and Catherine and Tina-- I am SO SORRY I confused coffee time, I feel like such a loser. But also, thank you SO. MUCH. for coming to the ESU elections. I realize it was such a silly whim of mine... I just decided I didn't have anything to do today, so I would run for this? Clearly I'm wacked out and overtired. Anyways. Communications Co-Ordinator of the English Student Union. Has a real ring to it, non? I think I mainly will advertise events by standing on tall buildings with a bullhorn. Wait a damn minute... that's just so crazy, it might work. I do think I'd like to go on a guerilla marketing campaign for the ESU... I think we need to present it with a bit more of an edge. People think we're sissies who like Shakespeare. But who's to say we don't like both Shakespeare AND hard drugs?? And cable porn. Not that hard core stuff.

But really, I appreciate you guys coming, and especially Jess who stuck it out to the bitter end. *Hug*

Also, to Jess: Look at my profile... one of my interests listed IS BUNS! For real, and I didn't just change it now, either... it's always been that way, I just forgot. I think that "buns" is a timeless word of both comedy and repose.

I'm getting the real willies about the Varsity elections tomorrow, though... I think we have some real competition-- both news associates with rather more clout than me and JP. We have a nice little speech prepared, and we do capitalize on some strengths I really believe in... but I just think that the people with shlep will prevail. Anyways, keep your fingers crossed for me at 7:30 tomorrow night.

Also, I haven't slept in so long, I really don't know what the problem is. Other than slight anxiety about this Varsity thing, I can't imagine what the problem is. I keep having anxiety attacks and hideous nightmares. Which one of you is going to come and hold me in my sleep? WHICH ONE??? You may have a rotating schedule, if that is more convenient.

I had something non self-serving to say when I signed on... but now it is gone... hmm...

Date:	2005-04-04 08:57
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	hungry

Wow, I have SO many plays to ready before my exam on the 21st. And while I enjoy reading plays (!), seeing the stack of them next to my bed, that is taller than my midget manservant named Heffenfeffer, instills great fear. Great, great fear. It's just that... so many of them are depressing! This is not what I need right now!

*reaches for "chocolate flavoured confection" eggs bought for being stood up last week... so chocolate-esque, yet so imbued with scorn*

Since I only have one exam this period, I was kind of thinking this might be a good time to prepare for, and take, my GRE's. Is this insane? I went a little crazy this weekend, not having anything to do after being in scurry mode for two months essentially... so I thought maybe filling my day with more than one leisurely study activity might kill two birds with one stone (and prevent me from freaking out in taking them at the last minute in October or what have you). Thoughts? Comments? Is this retarded?

God, these egg confections are GOOOOOOD.

Date:	2005-04-03 18:53
Subject:	Fuck with semantics. FUCK WITH THEM!
Security:	Public
Mood:	apathetic

I

TOTALLY LOVE IT when I drink something that ISN'T coffee in the mug that says "coffee". And I generally chant my subject line as I do so. It's very empowering.

So I went for a jaunt to see the new workplace the other day. And while I am slightly disturbed by the neighbourhood I'll be working in and its proximity to St. Stephen's house, I am pleased that I will be walking through Kensington to get there. I think that will significantly change my daily outlook, for some reason. Second hand stores. Produce. Flowers. Perhaps, perhaps not.

All the same, I think I may actually be looking forward to this position now. Although I was tres tres sad about leaving the Ceeb the other day (*hysterical crying*), I know it sounds cheesy, but I think this will present new challenges and opportunities that I should take advantage of. I really hope it isn't a shithole. Whew. I will find out Thursday when I go to meet the jokers, and then rush off to Varsity elections.

I was having second thoughts about the Varsity shenanigan, since JP seems way way wayyyyyy more qualified for this shite than I am. I was sort of feeling like maybe being the weaker part of a partnership was not exactly what I needed weighing on my conscience all year. I think I'm still going to go ahead with it, though. That may have just been a moment of self-doubt, or it may have been a moment of realistic thinking. Either way, I think if I go into this with strong goals and values I will come out in one piece. If I feel inadequate, I'll just have to have some sort of mantra to counteract it. Suggestions are welcome.

By the way, I hate my grandfather's new girlfriend. She can go shove it. Up her ziggy with a wah-wah brush. That's what I always say. (No, really, it IS what I always say).

Mrrrrrrr...

Date:	2005-03-30 23:39
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	aggravated

Hold up, nelly-- the emotions have run wild!

Dude. I am so energetically fried.

Tomorrow is my last day of work at the CBC. I really didn't want to go-- I just get so sad thinking about it. For like the past two months (since I found out I got canned) every time I go all I can really think about is how I'll have to leave. It's like a mild torture-- just enough to melodramaticize for my comfort. Apparently I'm going to be taken out for Indian buffet. I don't know how I feel about this, having never really eaten legitimate (non-residence cafeteria) Indian food. Also, I think I might weep into my butter chicken. We shall soon find out.

One more presentation, one more paper, then third year can blow me. Keep your fingers crossed I don't spontaneously combust first!

Date:	2005-03-28 14:03
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	calm

Whoahhhhh

Holy week-o-happenin's! You know, for the past two weeks or so I've been so hyper about everything being up in the air-- the living arrangement, the no jobness, the exams and papers... it was just like, every single thing was uncertain.

Last Sunday night I was informed by a friend over MSN that my major paper for Modern Drama (the one I'm really trying to kick ass in, for a nice reference letter down the road), was due a week earlier than I thought. The next morning, in fact. Now, the irony of this situation is that a) I had been so stressed out over work that I had been bawling my eyes out all day. b) I had tried to find the latest draft of said essay earlier in the day so I could work on it and send it to my ta for comments. c) I had in fact left the essay at my friend's house by accident, and she lives way the hell down at Ryerson. SO. If I hadn't have left it at Eve's house, I would have had the essay done, and when I found out from Amy about the due date I could have gone "SHIT!" and then proceeded to print the essay. Instead, I went "SHIT!" and proceeded to cry even more. I hear this is good for my pores. ANYWAYS. I freaked out all the next morning getting my arse down to Ryerson so I could hand in the paper at least on that day before 5pm-- then I find out after all the rush, that my TA doesn't even take off late marks. She just GIVES bonus marks. BLAH! I finished it anyways. That was a bit of a load off.

Then last Tuesday, despite my slight reluctance to live in a large building again, Sarah and I submitted our applications for summer residence in Innis. The bad news is, it would be with two strangers. The good news is, Sarah, a bathroom not shared with 15 co-eds, and a kitchen. It's almost like an apartment, but not quite. ANYWAYS. As soon as I handed in the app, I felt like a ton better... even though I didn't really want to do it... I KNOW. Weird. I think just having one thing figured out was enough to chill me out. Which is a good thing, because the next day required chilling.

On Wednesday I spent the bulk of the day creating my own version of Trivial Pursuit to play with my friend at work-- questions exclusively concerned with the Renaissance (!!!), while Eve worked on her essay and I periodically edited it for her. I checked my email while printing off her paper, and found out I got a job! Mmmhm! I'm going to be an 'offline closed captioning editor' at some media company that gets sent films by like Paramount and Universal. I think I get to watch movies all summer. I'm not sure. Anyways, I was in the library and saw a friend outside. I wanted to tell him about the job, so I asked my friend I was sitting with to watch my stuff, and I left for like ten minutes. When I came back, my laptop, complete with half finished take-home exam on it, was stolen. Oh, and my favourite CD was in it. Bastards.

That night I went to report it to the UofT police. No good, as there was no officer there (??? 8pm on a Wednesday???). There was, however, a vat of refridgerated human eyes sitting on the counter. I shit you not. So weird.

The rest of the week was spent re-doing the exam (pffft), organizing classes for over the summer (Ondaatje seminar! Philosophy of sexuality! Crime in England!!!), watching the incredibles, and and AND

GOING TO MY FIRST BURLESQUE SHOW. That's right, kids, I went to an Easter Pageant put on by a Burlesque group, retelling Bible stories through erotic dance/theatre/song. It was. So. Much. Fun. Oh my god, that was totally an awesome night, even though the burrito place was closed afterwards. I did, however, discover that I am deathly afraid of Queen st. West of Spadina. For some reason I feel terribly uncomfortable there, and I calmed down significantly as soon as we were East of Spadina.

Anyways. I have finally completed the take-home. I get another one today, and have an in-class to write tonight. I am strangely calm.

I think it is because of my relatively low-key weekend. I bought some kick ass new outfits from H&M that make me feel pretty, but spring better stay or I'm going to be cold in cute little skirts. Also, watched one of the weirdest movies ever-- BELPHEGOR? Phil, I think you might have seen this for some reason. It's a French film about a phantom haunting the louvre. It just looked so weird I was forced to rent it-- with my really adorable friend from bookclub. Who, while being the most mild-mannered person i've ever encountered, has nearly landed herself a job as an assistant editor at HARLEQUIN. How funny is that. Anyways.

I also watched Robin Hood (the Disney version). Wow. I love the feeling I get from hand-drawn animations. It just has such a different emotional effect from the computer-done stuff. I love how at the beginning they have it as if it's in a storybook. Hot damn, what a great movie. And what a trip, after seeing the Incredibles. It was odd, however, I noticed that although it is set in Medieval England, the characters have variant voicings... some are distinctively Southern US twang, some upper-crust British, some just mid-western. So odd how we use accents to characterize people, and even import it into what could arguably be called historical fiction. Well. Maybe not.

Speaking of which, I have proposed to my favourite professor to write a historical fiction on 18th c. England for a credit next year... she is reluctant to mark a creative project, but I'm going to try to wear her down. I really really want to do this!

Anyways, I'm off to coffee myself before my new take-home and later in-class test. Yes, more stimulation is exactly what I need.

Hmmm...

Date:	2005-03-21 21:57
Subject:	justify my love
Security:	Public
Mood:	bouncy

sup,

okay i just feel like i owe the almighty LJ a bit of an explanation-- while i did in fact promise that in efforts of procrastination i would post more often, i have refrained. but it's for your own good! things have been going so terribly in every area of my life that i just didn't want to post complaint after complaint... you know how it is! i was waiting for something to pull through-- a job, an apartment, a presentation... something-- but it just kept getting worse and worse.

today's wonderful spring energy (which was totally noticable even in the smell of the air when i woke up... and my window wasn't even open... i'm not joking, the air felt different) has pumped me up a bit. but i really think i should channel this energy into a productive place, since things are still so dire... so i'm going to work on my take home exam. ok?

don't hate me.

Date:	2005-03-16 09:46
Subject:	i can't get started...
Security:	Public
Mood:	apathetic

sitting here in towel. can't bring self to put on clothes.

talking in broken sentences, like cookie monster.

what does it all mean...

Date:	2005-03-14 22:05
Subject:	Subjects SUCK
Security:	Public
Mood:	stressed

It's true, I always feel such pressure to be punny in subject headings of emails... and I totally HATE it when you get the ubiquitous "hey" or "hello", so I make it even harder for myself. Consequently, today I am thwarting my desire to prove my wit in titular form (haha, tit), and have resorted to merely replying to emails with "re:...", and proclaiming the suckingness of subjects as attested above.

Today has been odd and jelly-like. I woke up with a doozy of a head cold, but strangely it is located only in my ears (and to a small extent my nose)... but this resulted in my shakey-wooziness throughout my morning get-ready-routine, modern drama, hopelessly searching for chris in the physics building, and loafing mournfully in diabolos. When I don't feel like having a Madonna dance party while I dry my hair in the morning, you KNOW something is up.

Begrudgingly I tromped home and nooped a bit... I feel no better. Damn you mucous. Damn you to hell.

However, I did manage to have a very interesting interview with Mr. Michael Betchford, author of this online mystery novel called "The Daughters of Freya". I'm writing an article on it for the Varsity... my last one of the year, and my last one before I become staff writer (more on this later). I actually think some of you might be interested in this shennanigan-- not only is it about a SEX CULT (WOOOT!!!), but the format is also mildly intriguing: About one hundred emails between the novel's characters (that the reader is "cc'd" on) are sent to the reader's inbox over a three week period of 'real time' in which the mystery supposedly takes place. Norse mythology. Sex cults. Random titilating (haha tits again)emails in the inbox throughout the day. Kind of original.

ANYWAYS. In my background research I realized that this dude had seemed to feed the exact same information to all the different sources who featured him-- I mean, virtually the same quotes in The Globe, The Vancouver Sun, etc... it was really a little bit weird. Now that I have it in my head that I am a creative person, I of course wanted to present him with a line of questioning that would throw him off his clearly contrived agenda as seen in the earlier features. I came up with a list of rather probing questions that I actually anticipated would incite him to the point of irritation... but somehow this guy managed to weasel every response back to one of the form answers I had seen in previous interviews. This is definitely going to be the angle I go at it from.

In other news, I have been tentatively offered the position of associate Opinions editor with my friend JP for the Varsity next year. This would be a kick ass experience, obviously... but since I know nothing about editing, I'm a little daunted... especially if it's my last year of school and I want to keep my grades up for Grad stuff. So I don't know. Could be a lot of fun and a good experience, and it pays relatively well... but it's also scary and would require many late nights. And would I still have time to write arts stuff? I mean, I do that for the free tickets! Where would be my free tickets!?!?!

Thoughts, comments, concerns. All welcome.

Later, taters.