Pacific Coast Platitudes

Spinach Kills

2006-09-22T19:47:00.000-07:00

Lots has been going on and I don't really have time for a good update.

However, I will say this: spinach kills.

All those times your mom forced you to eat spinach were in vain. We now know the truth.
Continue eating ice cream and chips. They may be fattening, but you'll wake up tomorrow
ALIVE.

Hats off,
Chantal

Mini Bujedet 2006 quiz

2006-05-04T19:24:00.000-07:00

Mini budget quiz 06'

1. To be a good finance minister one should fund
a) ideologies
b) dogmas
c) doctrines
d) none of the above

This is me drunk again. The thing is, since this year, I can only really blog durn,.kk This difference is because I am no longer in school so the leisure time I have to blog is occupied by libation.

Rara Avis

2006-03-12T15:11:00.000-08:00

Last week, it was my housemate's birthday. We went out for dinner and upon returning home she remarked the following:

"Wow, I'm fuller than I thought I was because my burps are like pukes."

Then, if this wasn't momentous enough, I later noticed her in the kitchen drinking a bowl of salad dressing--yes, that is correct. And her comments on this taste experience were something along the lines of "it left a sour jolt in my mouth.

I invite any conjectures.

Madwomen

2005-10-26T08:52:00.000-07:00

Word of the Day for Wednesday October 26, 2005 virago \vuh-RAH-go; vuh-RAY-go\, noun:
1. A woman of extraordinary stature, strength, and courage.
2. A woman regarded as loud, scolding, ill-tempered, quarrelsome, or overbearing.

This word was sent to me via "word of the day email," and I find it fascinating. Basically, it testifies to the fact that a woman who is strong and intrepid is, in "reality," a monster. I wish I had known about this word during the writing of my thesis!

I haven't written in a while because of general apathy and overall tension. I will ease my way back into the blogging scene. Gadzooks!

Retro Love Songs

2005-08-10T13:25:00.000-07:00

Tired of attending weddings with generic, mediocre love songs? So am I. It upsets me that time and time again couples choose Blue Rodeo's "Lost Together" as their wedding song and expect their guests to have an original, knock-your-socks-off experience. It's time weddings, and their couples, started doing something a little different. And by different, what I really mean is 1983. The following songs will help ease your choices and create a convivial, rockin' matrimony. You can thank me with either a chocolate or an chocolate appended to a wedding invitation.

Retro Love Songs...

1. Love Song--The Cure

2. We Belong--Pat Benetar

3. You Make Lovin' Fun--Fleetwood Mac

4. Head Over Heels--Tears for Fears (not to be confused with Blue Rodeo's 'Head Over Heels.')

5. The Search is Over--Survivor (same guys who did Eye of the Tiger!!)

6. True Colours--Cyndi Lauper <--saccharine index= >100%

7. Straight Up--Paula Abdul

8. Take On Me--Aha

9. Against All Odds--Phil Collins

10. The Way You Make Me Feel--M. J.

11. Bonus Track for the Disgruntled: Send Me an Angel--White Lion

More 80's paraphernalia to come!!!!

Globe and Mail Caption Contest

2005-07-15T20:20:00.000-07:00

I finally won The Globe and Mail's caption contest! I am the clandestine "C.M., Nova Scotia." I only wish they had instead chosen my original submission on the monkey picture which was:

"Pleased with her new identity, Homolka decided to brave the public golf scene."

Yet, I understand why they opted for my "safer" second alternative.

Dr. Ch(Anne)tal Landers

2005-06-21T05:31:00.000-07:00

Out of sheer apathy, I’ve decided to start an advice column for men. Today’s topic is…

Tips for Online Dating Profiles

The other day I browsed through online personal ads out of curiosity. A few of my friends have met wonderful partners online so I thought that I’d investigate. But rather than revelling in this experience, I was somewhat taken aback: it seemed to me that most (but not all) guys did not know how to write thoughtful personal ads. As a result, and out of heartrending sympathy for the male species, I’ve decided to offer a few tips:

1. Do not say that you’re looking for a girl who is “smart, sexy and fun.” This is a redundant statement as most guys seem to seek girls with these qualities. It would be like asking to date someone with two eyes, two ears and a chin.

2. Do not ask for a girl who has her life “together” and who “knows what she wants.” The truth is that no one really knows what “having one’s life together” means. And most people only have a tentative idea of what they want out of life. The majority of girls maintain a general level of “togetherness,” and it makes girls intimidated to think that guys expect them to be monolithic and always on par. It’s OK to go to pieces every once and a while; doing so does not mean that you’re as dissembled as a galaxy of stars.

3. Only mention height if you’re a hobbit or are extraneously tall and therefore require someone of an anomalous height to complement yours.

4. Do not say that you’re looking for a blonde girl who is less than 120 pounds, 5’5, has green-eyes, plays varsity sports, has a large chest and is left-handed.

5. You can probably think of a better caption than “my soul bleeds for you” or “two hearts fuse into one.”

6. It is OK to talk about what you have learned in previous relationships, but be terse.

7. Be honest.

8. Try to be funny.

9. Do not say that you are looking for a girl who drinks beer like she has a Y chromosome, hugs trees, lifts weights like a fiend, does not require make-up, never sleeps and eats tonnes of sausage. Most girls are located on a gradient of femininity, and although it is OK to ask for someone who is low maintenance, don’t expect a bearded princess with a six pack stomach and a voice lower than Toni Braxton’s.

10. Please do not say that you’re looking for someone who “believes that having sex is part of falling in love.”

11. Do not say that you work out like an animal or a slave. This statement is
a turn-off because it suggests that you are not comfortable with your body.

12. And finally (my best advice) do not say that you’re looking for someone with “no baggage.”--this statment automatically cancels out all of Indonesia, Iraq, Palestine, Afghanistan, South India, West Malaysia, Bangladesh, West Thailand and most of Manhattan. I was shocked to see how many guys listed this prerequisite, and it suddenly made sense to me why these guys were still single. Let’s be honest about this: life is full of challenges and trials and people everywhere require a helping hand. Although it is not wise to burden your partner with “baggage,” a prerequisite of a good relationship is a certain level of emotional support. If you are not able or willing to provide your partner with emotional support, then perhaps you’re not cut-out for a serious relationship. Being a genuine partner is also about being a good sounding board.

* I apologize for the generalized, essentialist nature of this blog. I'm sure women (as in XX women and not the "gender" women) make equally superficial personal ads for men. If I had more patience with the female species, I would comb through their ads as well and provide an overall synopsis.

New Job

2005-06-20T06:02:00.000-07:00

I got a new serving job @ The Ivy Deck and it's tonnes of fun. I needed something to keep me from going insane while scrutinizing this thesis. My boss hired me on the spot because he also went to Queen's. He mentioned starting a Queen's Alumni group in the area because there are many of us (apparently).

He has "Ivy League Sandwiches" on his lunch menu, and I got a kick out of the Queen's sandwich:

Queen's University: Traditional Turkey Club

LOL. It's so true. I don't like to think of myself as a "traditional turkey club" seeing that I'm a vegetarian, but I admit that the stereotype is pretty head-on. I fit in more with the Simon Fraser University Sandwich: Open-Faced Grilled Veggie.

Anyway, I love this job because it's so casual and there's a patio. Plus, I worked alone after only two training shifts.. :)

That's all for now!

Ten Makeshift Arguments

2005-06-12T18:14:00.000-07:00

Preamble: this blog is meant to be a sardonic response to the arbitrary, vapid and subjective nature of most (but not all) arguments put forth in Academia.

If you are stuck on your thesis, try using one of the following generic arguments; they are based on actual literary criticisms I have encountered this year. I will use Orwell's Animal Farm as my template text, although none of these statments are based on this text. I take no responsibility for damages, failures or injuries incurred after using these theses:

1. Animal Farm unfixes the boundaries and conventions of its genre.

2. Animal Farm destabilizes meaning.
(Ashley came across this one).

3. George Orwell projects his childhood fears of abandonment onto his protagonists.

4. George Orwell's novels presuppose his suicide.

5. Animal Farm is not a romance because it does not end happily and its protagonist has green skin.

6. Animal Farm is a romance because it ends happily and its protagonist has beige skin.

7. In Animal Farm, "menstual blood threatens the relationship between the sexes within a social aggregate and, through internalization, the identity of each sex in the face of sexual difference."
(I'm actually using this critic for my thesis, and I quite like her; but I must point out her occasional capriciousness).

8. Orwell's fecundity lies in his ability to challenge monolithic discourses. (actually, this is probably true, although I made it up).

9. In Animal Farm, characters parody themselves and masquerade the colour blue as if it were an iolite gown on fire.

10. (this is my ultimate favourite, and it is the statement which inspired this blog):

"Underwear suggests layers of clothes, which suggest layers of narrative voices... the notion of hidden (underwear) shaping the surface refers us to the possibility of a subtext forming the plot as well as to the possible subversion of the surface story."

(If anyone wants the reference to this critic, I will gladly provide it).

Vacation Request

2005-06-06T16:57:00.000-07:00

If anyone would like to take me on a vacation, I will oblige.

Textified

2005-05-19T22:49:00.000-07:00

Life and Language

The inexorable stasis
Clips me to its page
As if I were a capital letter
Seminal to the text.

I cannot move, but my body
Longs to snap out of
Paragraph, to writhe
And abscond from stale
Barb letters, weary punctuation.

Each comma is a tear
Seeping from the eyes of prose--
Each dash, a wire slash.

2005-05-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

Phobos!

New Word: Phobosity

2005-05-05T13:13:00.000-07:00

I have coined a new word today based on my interpretation of an image from Astronomy Picture of the Day (yes, I subscribe).

n. Phobosity: a) inherent ugliness or perversity of form; decrepitude
b) tendency to mutate into something weird

"All that time spent in Lake Ontario was the cause of Jack's Phobosity"

tr.v. Phobosed, Phobosing

a) to doom
b) to move toward an unfortunate demise

"I was Phobosed from day one; online bingo only worsened my predicament"

"Every time I eat Aunt Edna's casserole, I feel as though I am Phobosing at an intensely fast rate"

Spread the "Word." Hahaha...

The Nanaimo Bar House and the Nanaimo Bar Man

2005-04-17T13:50:00.000-07:00

The Nanaimo Bar House and the Nanaimo Bar Man

Last week I had a hilarious encounter which may classify as the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I would have written about it earlier if all these essay deadlines weren’t compiling.

I was walking down Highland Avenue when I noticed a medium brown house with canary yellow siding (let me stress that this was a dichromatic scheme with no other colours involved). I immediately started laughing because I was reminded of a house on Alfred St. in Kingston—one that reminded me of a Nanaimo bar, and which I referred to as “The Nanaimo Bar House.” This house, I suppose, was the Wolfville rendition.

When I was directly across the street from this house—and at the precise moment that I was internally conjecturing its salivary appeal—a middle age man emerged wearing a pure medium brown suit (pants and coat) with a medium brown briefcase and shoes. The clincher was his tie: it was canary yellow—the exact shade of the paneling on the house. In short, he was the quintessence of Nanaimo barness.

My immediate thought was how is this man not aware that he is performing an obvious social ‘faux pas’?--One cannot live and dress like a Nanaimo bar. My secondary thought was that this was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. So I burst out laughing. And, the difficult part in all this was that I had to conceal my laughter from this man—who, I might add, was stepping into a BROWN car.

I continued walking down Highland laughing. Every time that I passed people I had to pretend to be coughing as to not draw unnecessary attention to myself. Two people across the street noticed that I was laughing autonomously and started laughing themselves. Thus, I had enacted a domino effect.

When I arrived at my appointment with Kevin I was still laughing. I went into his office to discuss my Medieval Romance paper and aftershocks of the laugh attack surfaced. Rather than explaining the Nanaimo bar story to Kevin, I continued laughing. He started laughing at my laughing, although I think that he thought I was laughing at him.

This whole event caused me to retire in the evening with a stomach ache; my lower abdominal muscles hurt from over-indulging in guffaw.

Truly, this had been the apogee of my month (perhaps life).
*This story is accurate and without embellishment, except of course, the part about the BROWN car. I added this for dramatic effect. I think the car was actually grey.

Plathian Mad Libs

2005-04-01T20:07:00.000-08:00

Mad Libs: Plathian Style!

In pretending to research my American essay, I've discovered the basic Plathian formula. I thought that I'd share it with you before someone else usurps me and patents it:

In an age where creativity is mechanized and creative writing warrants a degree and the payment of tuition, I thought that I’d save you some time and money by offering my tutorial for free. Of course, for just three installments of $59.99 I’ll throw in a carrot grater and a pair of floral scented oven mitts.

The following activity may not win you a Fulbright scholarship or introduce you to the magnanimously charming Ted Hughes, but it will increase your self esteem. Either that or it will distract you from the numerous essays which await your attention.

Instructions: Use the Plathian dictionary to fill in the blanks and create poetry just like Plath’s! (the dictionary is derived from Ariel).

The Bell Can: Your Plath-like Novella

Once upon a time, I made plans to visit a ____________ with my friend George. We woke up early that morning and set out. We were so __________ about our trip. We packed our lunches—apples, milk and __________ sandwiches. Then, we also packed our soccer equipment so that we could _____________ by the field. Our trip was proving to be excellent. Our identities were never the merrier.

We spent all day in the _________ and the sun was shining ____________. When we came home we were so happy about our fun and _______________ experience. As my friend George left me, we vowed to hang out again soon. Together we were like two ______________ brothers!

Plathian Dictionary

Dolorous: adj.

1. Marked by or exhibiting sorrow, grief, or pain.

Poultice: n.

1. A soft moist mass of bread, meal, clay, or other adhesive substance, usually heated, spread on cloth, and applied to warm, moisten, or stimulate an aching or inflamed part of the body. Also called cataplasm.

Arsenic: n.

1. Symbol As A highly poisonous metallic element having three allotropic forms, yellow, black, and gray, of which the brittle, crystalline gray is the most common. Arsenic and its compounds are used in insecticides, weed killers, solid-state doping agents, and various alloys. Atomic number 33; atomic weight 74.922; valence 3, 5. Gray arsenic melts at 817°C (at 28 atm pressure), sublimes at 613°C, and has a specific gravity of 5.73. See table at element.
2. Arsenic trioxide.

Malignity: n. pl.

1.
a. Intense ill will or hatred; great malice.
b. An act or a feeling of great malice.
2. The condition or quality of being highly dangerous or injurious; deadliness

Virulent: adj.

1.
a. Extremely infectious, malignant, or poisonous. Used of a disease or toxin.
b. Capable of causing disease by breaking down protective mechanisms of the host. Used of a pathogen.
2. Bitterly hostile or antagonistic; hateful: virulent criticism. See Synonyms at poisonous.
3. Intensely irritating, obnoxious, or harsh.

Pollard: n.
1. A tree whose top branches have been cut back to the trunk so that it may produce a dense growth of new shoots.
2. An animal, such as an ox, goat, or sheep, that no longer has its horns.
(Pollared: tr.v.—to make into a pollard)

Stringent: adj.

1. Imposing rigorous standards of performance; severe: stringent safety measures.
2. Constricted; tight: operating under a stringent time limit.
3. Characterized by scarcity of money, credit restrictions, or other financial strain: stringent economic policies.

Mercuric: adj.

Relating to or containing mercury, especially with a valence of 2.

Squelch: v.

1. To crush by or as if by trampling; squash.
2. To put down or silence, as with a crushing retort: squelch a rumor.
3. To suppress or inhibit: a protein that squelches gene transcription.

Masoleum: n.

1. A large stately tomb or a building housing such a tomb or several tombs.
2. A gloomy, usually large room or building.

Contusion: n.

An injury in which the skin is not broken; a bruise.

(*I secretly really like Plath because she is brilliant)

So, your child needs a name?

2005-03-28T19:36:00.000-08:00

In third year I came across a brilliant website. I had just bought my first fighting fish--well, it was the first of many that died--and I needed a good name for it! When I found this link, I was laughing so hard that my housemate Pat thought I was crazy. Of course, I showed him the site and he thought it was pretty funny, too. Although I'm not sure if he was laughing at me or with me.

Anyway, let's consider the ramifications of this link in great detail. You need a name for your child and both you and (presumably) your partner are a bit daft and can't come up with anything. Your dialouge goes as follows:

You (Jane): Hey Jack, what should we name our child?

Jack: Um, I don't know. I'm not good at this.

You: How about something pretty?

Jack: Um, ok. Lace? Sunset?

You: I was thinking about Bobette

Jack: That's stupid. How about Roboto?

You: Why don't we just yield to postmodernity and call our child "Ontological Insecurity?"

Jack: Nah. It's going to die anyway, lets call it "Eschatological Jim."

You: That has a nice ring to it; besides, it rhymes with the name of our first child--"Tautological Tim."

Jack: Ok. Heads: Eschat....

----------------------STOP------------------------------------------------

This is where I intercede. I'm not sure if these people should be having children. They are not only abusing postmodern theory; they also have the creative powers of a small, green shrub. What can we do about these two? Well, it's simple: this is where the baby name generator comes in. The name inventor generates random names--for girls, boys, or androgynes--and takes the toil out of child-naming so your time is free to price out sterilization procedures

Let's consult the name inventor to arrive at better names for Jack and Jane's child.

Possible Boys Names

1. Gau
2. Ililileyl
3. Rertcha
4. Lcac
5. Ffld

Wow, baby namer--what great names! Thanks. Clearly, now you can see how useful this generator is to anyone wanting to name their children. As these are all great names--and so original--we are going to have a tough time choosing. My pick is "Ililileyl," but a close second would be "Gau." My whole life I've wanted to be called Gau. It's too bad I only realized this now, upon consulting the name inventor. "Ffld" is adequate, but it's too close to Nfld. Rertcha is pretty; it kind of reminds me of a cross between retching and a bad polka dance.

Possible Girls Names

1. Dam
2. Marpeelo
3. Ititophee
4. Miner
5. Henda

I like how this website prides itself on generating "unique" names. Euphemistically, I suppose this is the case. It also claims that you may find the "perfect" name for your child, if you just keep generating. As the above results show, this claim is no lie. Henda is the perfect name for any child. I've always wanted my first born daughter to be a Henda. Although, now I hope that I have at least three daughters so that I can call the other two "Miner" and "Ititophee." Of course, I feel like I've heard the term "Miner" before, but I could be wrong. "Dam" is also pretty cool. That way, if your child does anything wrong you could be like "Hot Dam," and they would know that you were mad.

Now, I'll bet your curious as to what happened with Jack and Jane? Let's see how the name generator assisted.

__________________9 months later_______________________

Jane: Hi Jack. I had an androgyne and now I'm sad because the name generator only invents names for girls and boys.

Jack: No Jane! That's not the case. The name generator--being inclusive and non-essentialist--also has a category for intersexed children. We can still generate!

Jane: Awesome! Let's see what we should call our kid.

Jack: Here we go...

Possible Names
1.Anntiscy
2. Vitadr
3. Ffffe

Of course, it was no contest for Jack and Jane. Being so fond of the letter "F" they chose the name "Ffffe" for their child. Ffffe grew up to be audaciously vernacular and skilled in most things. This story has a salubrious ending--and all because of the name generator!

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

Cherry Garcia Ice Cream

2005-03-25T10:56:00.000-08:00

Today, I tried Ben and Jerry's "Cherry Garcia Ice Cream" for the first time. My whole life I have heard it recieve such laudatory praise, but have veered away from it due to my intense dislike of cherries (well, at least, articifial red cherries). I've termed my dislike/fear: artificocherrophobia, and I think it stems from my mother's severe caveats when I was growing up: "Chantal, if you eat too fake red cherries you too will turn red" or something along those lines.

Anyway, the ice cream was good. I was a bit worried that it would be neon red or something, but it was a slightly rose-tinted white. I'm going to check the mirror in about an hour and see if I'm red. If not, I will assume that I can continue eating this flavour of ice cream in the future.

Sinbad and Hobad: A True Story.

2005-03-11T19:23:00.000-08:00

Library Pub

Scene: all of us--Me, Ashley, Andrea and Heidi--are sitting around a table at the Library Pub. We are trying to polish off the rest of Heidi's nachoes when suddenly two guys approach--let me add, they look rather seedy and are extremely intoxicated. I'll refer to them as Hobad and Sinbad.

Hobad: Hey, I heard you guyz seys that yous were English majors.

Heidi and I: (stare vacantly at his protruding afro and rolling, intoxicated eyes).

Sinbad: Go for it man. Talk to them.

Hobad: So, yers guys says you were in English. I think that there's cool.

Heidi, Andrea, Ashley and I: (stare blankly--we are amused--but Ashley in particular is starting to look abhorred).

Me: Yes, we are.

Ashley or Heidi or Andrea (can't remember): We're doing our Master's.

Hobad: Sees, I think that there's cool. (drool is seeping from the corner of his mouth at this point; it may actually be foam).

Sinbad: (either chuckles or burps)

Hobad: Well, see, I could yu's your help with some stuffs. See, I need to do some work on Michael Ondaatje. As English Majors you them girls must know Ondaatje. As English majors, you, As English you must er, I, er...

Sinbad: C'mon Hobad--you're making a fool of yourself.

Heidi and I: Um...well

Me: We do know Ondaatje.

Ashley: It's not our job to tell you what to think about Ondaatje!

Andrea: (stratigically feigns muteness and/or idiocy).

Me: Why do you need to know about Ondaatje?

Hobad: Welz, me, I could use you. I mean, I could use your advize. I see, you see. that Iu um...baso! Hubba! It's all sexual right?

All: (suddenly realize that Hobad's hair strikingly resembles a loofah sponge)

Me: I've only read two things by Ondaatje: "The Cinnamon Peeler" and "In the Skin of a Lion."

Hobad: fraz1t ! The skin, yes, the skin of you all. I mean, of the Lion. I like that boooook.
Yes! What can I say. I need some help--what can yous say about the Lion?

Heidi: (tries to veer Hobad away with telepathy, but it doesn't work).

Me: No, "In the Skin of a Lion" is about history.

Hobad: Oh history oh. um, Wells, is it about SEX? I think um, yeah. it's all sexual and stuff. right? That's what yous english masters think right?

Us: (vehemently silent)

Janice: (arrives at the Library Pub--late, as always, although this time she has some bureaucratic excuse).

Me: Hey, Hobad why don't you ask Janice?

Hobad: Heyz Janiiiicee. I like Ondaatje. It's about sex, right?

Sinbad: (sneers, Lucifer-like).

Janice: Um, er, yes. Guys I'm starving! I can't even think!

Sinbad: Hey Hobad...c'mon lets leave.

Hobad: Sorry u's goils. I'm a carpenter. Im drrrrrunk. Sorry--Ondaatje. Sex. Ondaatje. Sex.

All of us: (watch eagerly as Hobad and Sinbad leave. Relief settles in; our appetites return; Janice thinks about ordering dinner; Andrea orders an awesome cheesecake; order is restored and much to our surprise, no one is abducted, raped or slain!!!)

*Sinbad and Hobad is a true story

Sexton Part 2.

2005-03-07T17:38:00.000-08:00

I'm kind of liking this, that is, pretending to be Sexton.

Hope has evaporated; it has sublimated into cloud
I stare at it from my green-lawn imagination.

Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others

2005-02-28T06:46:00.000-08:00

I am currently listening to The Smiths' song "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others," and don't know what to think.

Well, either two things:

1. The Smiths deserve the nobel prize in genetics for discovering that, yes, in fact, some girls are bigger than others, and that size is in part inherited from mothers. (unless, by chance, some other genius thought of this first).

2. Someone needs to write a song called "Some Boys Are Bigger Than Others."

:) It's kind of a catchy tune, although I somehow feel like feminists are running at the Smiths with swords and/or sharp objects. The lyrics, as you can tell, are a bit disdainful.

Update

2005-02-18T13:36:00.000-08:00

Coincidentally, I came across this article in today's Globe and Mail. Not that I take everything I read literally, but given my previous analysis of Dr. Huxtable and his gynaecological tendencies...well, you'll see what I mean.

LOL

The Smiths

2005-01-07T19:57:00.000-08:00

I forgot to mention that I love the Smiths!!!! They are an amazingly stellar band.

This is all.

p.s. I really feel as though I belong in the 80's. I'm seriously displaced in the 21st century. Really, what am I doing here?? I'm hoping that one day, if I go to heaven, it will be an 80's heaven where everyone wears leg warmers and drinks blue curacau (sp?).

:)

Byers Miggs Alterna-Test

2004-12-22T11:35:00.000-08:00

Today I woke up sad because Myers Briggs was reducing my personality to four letters. Also, I read an alternative description of INFJ's on Heidi's blog, which defined INFJ's as "pro-weed" and "wounded at the core." No online test can affirm that I am pro-weed or wounded at the core. As a result, I am creating the "Byers Miggs Alterna-Test" for those of you who are not happy with your "Myers Briggs" test results.

In the questions below, decide which option best suits you.

1. When at a party I am most likely to:

a) stand against a wall and shy away from people while hiding my face with a napkin
b) stand on top of a table and yell at everyone through a bullhorn
c) I like to check out cartoons

(If you answered "A" you are Introverted (I); if you answered "B" you are extraverted (E)
If you answered "C" you are Perverted (P)).

2. When in school you like to focus on

a) minute details; specific hands on examples and/or precise facts
b) abstract theories; general examples rather than specific examples

(If you answered "A" your are Sensing (S); in you answered "B" you are an iNtuitive (N))

3. When you make decisions your primary concern is:

a) Logistics--pros and cons
b) Your Feelings
c) that you get to drink your own urine

(If you answered "A" you are Thinking (T); if you answerd "B" you are Feeling (F); if you answered "C," you are a gross (G)).

4. Your room most likely resembles

a) the organized atmosphere of the National Library of Congress; Jail
b) An unattended petting zoo

(If you answered "A" you are Judging (J); if you answered "B" you are Perceptive (P))

Now, time for the fun part: I will provide a synopsis of your type of person. Add together your letters from the above questions to form your type--i.e. INTP. Consult the description of your type below, for an accurate reflection of you!

ESTJ--You like to run marathons in your pajamas; in fact, this is what you are known best for. Some days you also smoke weed. But mostly, you enjoy to watch soap operas. Often you take time off work--if you even work--to watch soaps. Sometimes you eat your babies.

ENTJ--You like to daydream about mothers and are ridden with Freudian undertones. Sometimes you fuse yourself to nature and hide in the woods for long periods. Once when this happened, a search party came looking for you. When they found you, they made you go to jail. This didn't affect your criminal record though, because you had friends in high places.

ESFJ--You are especially good a mundane tasks such as alphabetizing soup cans or cross-stitching. You usually hide from reality by frequenting tanning salons. The last time I saw you, your skin was as brown as a coconut. You should wear more sunscreen.

ENFJ--Sometimes you are afraid of moving vehicles and/or street signs. As a result, you proceed with caution in the outside world. You drive a scooter and/or a golf cart only. The best movie that you ever saw was "Teen Wolf," and your favorite show is "Three's Company." All the best in 2005.

ESTP--The reason that you switched your major from Chemistry to Botany was because you had a crush on someone in the Botany department.

ENTP--Unlike the other types, you enjoy rolling your own cigarettes. You also gamble and engage in questionable immoral deeds. Under the Young Persons Act of 1933, you would be coded as a "delinquent child." Under the Young Persons Act of 1989, this label is revised and stated as "relevant child." As a relevant child you will have a "relevant" family and such...

ESFP--Your type is exteremly rare. Oh wait, no, I was wrong; your type is very common. In fact there is nothing special about you at all. Among others who have shared your type are: George Bush, Macaulay Caulkin, and Big Bird.

ENFP--You enjoy nature walking and long walks on the beach. But you don't like to exercise so find your self ridden with nuance. Sometimes you assume a catatonic state of paralysis. Other times you simply enjoy ice cream and/or gelatto.

ISTJ--I had a friend like you back in grade school. We could have been even better friends if she hadn't had all that ear hair.

INTJ--Apart from what others say, you should know that you are unique. You are an artist. Most days you spend in an attic with clay and/or pastels. Your work is usually very popular among the elite, and you could easily earn your living selling your art. Unfortunately that addiction to rubber cement does not bring out your fine points.

INFJ--You are "wounded at the core." You are also "pro-weed."

ISFJ--People with your type excel in math, sciences and/or actuary work. Unfotunately you are not one of these people--lthough, you may be good a curling and should give it a whirl!

ISFP--The ISFP is an inspirer and strives for unity and balance in everything that they do. Usually they have poor posture though, and often struggle with their committments to level 5 veganism whereby they cannot eat anything that casts a shadow.

INFP--Your favorite band is "Orleans" or "ManO'War." In your spare time you collect Shoppers Optimum points or fingernails.

ISTP--aka the "Carolyn Parrish" type, you enjoy stepping on plastic figurines that resemble egomaniacal presidents.

INTP--I was once an INTP, but I made myself change because really, who could live this way???

Myers Briggs Update

2004-12-21T08:08:00.000-08:00

I consulted an INFJ type description on the internet. It uncannily fit me, and I am now obsessed with Myers Briggs.

Myers Briggs Results

2004-12-20T11:34:00.000-08:00

Thanks to the peeps in my program...

I just finished writing the Jungian Myers Briggs Test. So interesting, and, in my opinion, very accurate. The last time I wrote the test was in grade 11. I thought I would have changed a lot since then, but apparently not. In grade eleven I was a INTJ, but now I am an INFJ. I guess something happened to make me more of a "feeling" person. Maybe it was all that 80's music. Anyway, I was quite balanced for most of them, except for "N." It says that i'm 70% "N." N stands for intution, and refers to people who like abstract theories, imagination, creativity, ect. I guess that's good, although I've always tried really hard to be an "S" person. I think my life would be a lot easier if I were "S."

What does make me happy about being an INFJ is that we are only 1.5% of the population. The description of the INFJ is also fitting for me...it is "author." This person is someone who has a "complex personality." Maybe what they really meant was "personality complex."

It said that I strongly prefer ESTJ types. I would agree. I don't know what it is either. Interestingly, (and rather insanely), the ESTJ is described as "administrator"--a strong leader and/or responsible business person. Apparently ESTJ's make up 8.7% of the population. What I can't understand is how an introverted "author" type is supposed to form a congenial relationship with an extroverted "administrator." Well, I guess anything is possible. After all, they make blue ketchup now.

Anyway, take the test too and see what you are!!

:)

I thought about killing.

2004-12-19T13:55:00.000-08:00

Hi. The idea for this title came from my friend Heidi's MSN name. She is in my program also, and, like me, was feeling entrenched in essay anti-heaven.

We have to hand in 20 pages of thesis by tommorow (monday). I had finished almost all of it, then somthing happened and my computer crashed; I lost my file! This had never happened to me before--I had an extra backup copy on the computer too, which was also lost. I took my computer into USC and they didn't know either...Janice (who is really computer saavy) thinks it was because I put an extra "dot" in the title of my document. Let this be a lesson to you all:

example

save your work as--> fredisthecoolest.doc

do not save your work as--> fredisthecoolest..doc

Note the extra dot. I may cause you to kill someone when your 20 page document is deleted two days before it is due. Luckily I didn't kill anyone. Instead I went to the store and bought vegetables. Then I listened to 80's music. Luckily as well, I managed to re-write the 20 pages in time for tommorow.

I have to say, what I really think happened to my document is this:

THE UNHEIMLICH

let's be realistic here; I don't think it was a coincidence that my "GOTHIC" thesis mysteriously disappeared. In 5 years of university I've never lost a document. Only when I start talking about "the uncanny" theme in the gothic (aka THE UNHEIMLICH) does my document get lost.

Well, I am going to relax now. And by "relax," what I really mean is "i'm going to make rumballs"

:) chants

ps. i don't think killing is good. except for spiders--they are evil and ugly too.

Bell Jarified

2004-12-14T14:22:00.000-08:00

I have been reading too much Plath, and as a result, the world is clad in eternal gray.

For example:

1) Today I noticed that the doors leading into the English department were like a thick belt around the pants of an obese monster. Upon entering through these doors, I felt as though I was penetrating the stomach of this beast, and entering some strange bowel world. Students and faculty alike became ghosts and floated by me, their heads round moons. Every second person had a set of X's for eyes.
2) I went to Shopper's Drug Mart and almost burst into tears at the contrived festival of holiday decor. The red and greeness formed a sickly aura around my head and the customers danced in circles around me with plastic smiles and tin foil hair. Cashiers seemed to scream "buy buy buy" from all corners of the store, and I suddently melted into a puddle on the floor. They mopped me up and sold me as lipstick. Some guy got 5000 optimum points for buying me for his girlfriend, and he went home with a pack of free Trident sugarless gum.
3) I opened my closet only to find that my clothes were covered in a flour/chalk like substance. Upon touching them, they crumbled to ash and bled into the floor, emitting a large "poof" of conglomerate particles. I had to ask for an oxygen mask from the local hospital. Skeletons were everywhere in sight.
4) I turned on the radio and "Monster Mash" played endlessly, only to be intermittently interrupted by Shania Twain and Jewel. Green slime oozed from the corners of my radio on to the carpet. The ooze emitted radon and boron and my cat turned into a small frog with seven legs. I thought about hanging the radio from a noose, but couldn't find a ceiling beam in my apartment. The landlord was on fire when I called to inquire.
5) The "raw foods" diet that I once heard about on TV seemed to take an extreme effect in my mind. Apart from eating raw vegetables and/or fruit, I began to eat raw...everything. Starting with eggs, I moved onto uncooked meats, pasta (hence the broken tooth) and fish. The fish especially tasted weird, but I washed it down with toothpaste.
6) I went to the gym and, upon unlocking my locker, I noticed that my mirror had been cracked in two places. I reached to remove the mirror and fell into the locker. The door slammed shut and I unpeeled my societal mask to reveal my true, "monstrous" core. I did a little emancipation jig and smiled at my clever subversion of patriarchal codes. I did all this while listening to Bran Van 3000. Upon exiting the locker I zipped up my fake woman suit and counterfeited an expression of ambivalence and/or jubilance. I whistled my way into the community pool.
7) When I came home Ted Hughes was expecting play. Instead of giving him play, I forced him to watch me paint for upwards of six hours, promising play afterwards. However, I never gave him any play; I never cut him any slack. Instead, I peeled onions and fed rat poison to the fish. Then I pressed an "release" chute button (marked "garage door") and Ted flew through the floor into an omnious abyss.

*The above events, as you may (or may not) realize, are fictitious--with the exception of the part about the "release chute button" and Ted Hughes. My sole point in writing this is to convince you of the dangers of reading too much Plath. Before reading Plath, my mind was filled with pleasant thoughts of pansies, lollipops, and guerilla warfare.

Goodnight :)

ps. before you say i'm weird, please read "The Bell Jar" at least twice. don't get me wrong, Plath is an amazing author. But the sensitive reader should balance Plath with other readings such as "The Vicar of Wakefield" or "Babes in Toyland".

Update

2004-12-07T13:33:00.000-08:00

Hi,

A couple hours later, and I am still not able to work on my essay outline.

So, to procrastinate further, I am going to make a list of my ten favorite books--in order:

1. Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia: Samuel Johnson

2. Paradise Lost: John Milton

3. River of the Brokenhearted: David Adams Richards

4. Peter Pan: J.M. Barrie

5. Utopia: Sir Thomas More

6. Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man: James Joyce

7. Trumpet: Jackie Kay

8. The Chrysalids: John Wyndham

9. Wuthering Heights: Emily Bronte

10. Tao Te Ching: Lao Tzu

--The first book, "Rasselas," is my all-time favorite. I have yet to find anything as amazing as this book. I wrote an essay on love and friendship in Rasselas in third year. It is from the Restoration period, and they used to use it as a tonic for people who suffered from depression and/or anxiety; it has helped a lot of people and may in fact serve as a cornerstone for one's faith.
--"Paradise Lost" is an expansion of the short biblical passage "genesis."Milton's imagination really emerges through this text--how else could someone take a short biblical excerpt and expand it into an entire epic poem? If you are not familiar with the story of Adam and Eve, I suggest reading "Paradise Lost" before, or at the same time as, you read the bible. "Paradise Lost" goes into the story of creation in great detail and may be more accessible to a reader than genesis. Of course, it cannot be a substitute for the bible, but it is interesting to compare the two.
--"River of the Brokenhearted" is by the Atlantic writer, David Adams Richards. It is a fairly recent book. Richards's ability as an author stems from his astute perception into human greed and/or morality. This book is both a fascinating portrait of two conflicted families, and the human condition. It is not a sensous romance novel--don't be deceived by the title.
--JM Barrie is a wonderful author. I have read a lot on his personal biography, which enhanced my understanding of "Peter Pan" and my respect for him as a writer. Not to rely on biographical criticism too heavily, but I believe that many of his personal circumstances influenced his creation of Peter. Peter represents Barrie's brother, who died in an ice skating accident--read his biography for more details, and then re-read "Peter Pan." It is amazing what people create out of their personal struggles or hardships. Academia is going to come after me now for indulging in biographical essentialism.
--ahh! "Utopia." So visionary, yet so flawed. Read it, you'll see what I mean. I've considered writing my thesis on utopic fiction because it seems as if a lot of writers have some kind of ideal vision that they strive towards for humanity. I often wished that I could live in More's Utopia, but at the same time I realize that it has its shares of problems. Even in More's Utopia, people are coerced and their remains a strict hierarchy of power...
--"Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man" is a book to which many people may relate. It captures the process of self-discovery that many people go through. Stephen, the protagonist, takes a quarter of his life to realize that he is meant to be a an author. Stephen's journey can be read as a reflection of Joyce's own journey. This book is autobiographical in many respects. It is also scattered with political and religious undertones revolving around Irish nationalism and Catholicism.
--It's been a long time since I've read "Trumpet," so, to be honest, I cannot provide a very good synopsis. However, I do remember it being one of the best books that I've ever read. I wish I could explain why.
--"The Chrysalids", well, it's been a long time since I've re-read this one too. Grade 10 was the last time. All I can remember is that it comments upon genetic engineering and anxiety about postmodern scientific experimentation. I think you could label this as a science fiction novel--it is also a sort of horror story very remnisceint of "Village of the Damned" or "The Midwitch Cuckoos."
--"Wuthering Heights"--if you haven't read it, I highly recommend it! It is a fascinating and moving story. Bronte is a wonderful author. There has been so much written on this novel with respect to Victorian confinement of women and/or the gothic theme. When I read it, I like to take a Marxist perspective and concentrate on dynamics of social class. This book is in many ways an attack on class hierarchy. All in all, there is much to be said about "Wuthering Heights." It has a creepy aura to it, and will stay in your thoughts for days after reading...
--The last book, "Tao Te Ching" is not really a book; it is a collection of proverbs from around 500 BC. It is very insightful into the human condition and, although simplistic in its diction, quite revealing about the nature and laws of the universe.

I am a big geek, aren't I?? It's ok, I know.

K, back to my essay!

War of the Cerebral Hemispheres

2004-12-07T10:41:00.000-08:00

I am experiencing a WAR of my cerebral hemispheres, and it is preventing me from finishing my papers in a timely fashion:

Right Hemisphere: Writing an outline! Bah! Who needs an outline?? You have your basic ideas floating around your brain in a nebulous chaotic waltz. There is no need to assimilate them! Divulge! Make a mess. It doesn't matter what kind of order you adhere to in your Atlantic essay. Random thoughts are key; they will get you far in life.

Left Hemisphere: Reconcile your turmoil. You are not proceeding in an organized fashion. You will fail, I assure you. And what I really mean by fail is 86. 86 is not a good mark anymore. You should be more precise. Precision is what matters. Align your arguments in a nice, structured way. Practice what you are going to say out loud. Recite your essay in front of a mirror. Always consult a dictionary. Iron your socks.

Right Hemisphere: Iron your socks?? Ludicrous! What kind of megalomaniacal martinet irons their socks?? Be crazy!! Drink beer and smoke weed! Then you will succeed! See, I made a rhyme. You should go around turning everything in your house upside-down, then you will be a smashing success. Don't write an outline for your essay. Start on page 5 and work backwards. Also, think outside of the box. Regionalist sentiments?? How about you think about the moon; it is a region. And yes, I think you could work the "Triplets of Belleville" into your essay somehow. After all, Madam Souza does cross the Atlantic ocean on her way to save her grandson. On a ship too! If ships aren't Atlantic I don't know what are! Ships--now that's a good theme. A key motif really. Why don't you work with that. And while you're at it, discuss Michael Jackson and Chickpeas.

Left Hemisphere: "The Triplets of Belleville"?? You are hopeless! I don't know what to do with you. Goodbye, brain.

Right Hemisphere: You lose Left. You are not even creative. You are boring and I'll bet you eat plain shredded wheat every morning for breakfast. You probably can't even kiss well.

Left Hemisphere: I do eat plain shredded wheat for breakfast! I do kiss bad! My life is over! You've destroyed me--you've exposed the critical weaknesses of my being!

Right Hemisphere: Ahh! I was right! Well, you go iron your socks and proceed with your life in a meticulous, orderly fashion. I will be over here smoking grass and blowing soap bubble when you need me.

Left Hemisphere: I will never need you; you are a ogre.

Chantal: C'mon guys. I need you to get along. I need to write a good paper here. I need you both! Right, I need your sense of creativity to help me form good connections. Left, I think you are boring, but I still need your logic and *sadly* your order. After that though, I agree with Right and will have to throw you from a balcony.

Left Hemisphere: So, you want to use me and then abuse me??

Chantal: Yes. Precisely.

Left Hemisphere: Bah!

Right Hemisphere: Come on left--you really have no other options do you? It is either help Chantal or return to your monotonous life as an automaton eating shredded wheat. Your choice.

Left Hemisphere: You're right. no one likes me except for you guys. I guess I will have to acquiesce.

Chantal: Thanks guys. Now I can start my paper!

(Left--Right): *SQUISH* (come on right...) *SQUISH* *BAM!* there we go!

YAY!

Chantal: Thanks to Dr. Baron for his wonderful lecture on the left and right sides of the brain!! *Applause*.

-Curtain Close.

Music and Fade into Blackness: The Turtles--Happy Together.