Oh My God, He's Eating Her Face off!

Jenacious D,

Just A Quick Thought, Why do people get mad if you stare at them when they are making out in the library? Shouldn't I be the angry one since they are interupting my thirst for knowledge with their lusty tongue wrangling? Im sure you are saying, "Oh linny you are just jealous u have noone to make out with in the library"...but that is not true. Im pretty sure even if did have a bf i wouldnt try to eat his face in public...or at the very least if i did, i would love it if people watched. That is All. Hope you had fun at your felix-concert. Did they hand out free penicillin at the end?

-Linny-

Mwahahaha!

J to tha R-O-C,

It is late, and I should prob be going to bed rather than getting myself started on a blog. But it furthers my recent commitment to accomplishing nothing so i might as well continue haha :

Lately i have read some interesting things from a couple different "sources" in my life that seem to be intersecting on a key issue that has been swirling around my head. That issue is, I am a deliciously bad person.

Now before i get ahead of myself, this isn't about me feeling sorry for myself or guilty for something and I want people to tell me that i am not a bad person. As a matter of fact, i dont feel all that bad about it, cause lots people are bad persons. (people?) I vaguely recall a psych class in my second year that talked about how the main goal of our psyche is to convince ourselves that we are good people despite any contradicting evidence. I remember the idea really resonating within me, i wish i could remember the particular theorist or even class but unfortunately all i can remember is i had it with Brettro and we were still secretly lusting after each other.

But it makes sense; when OTHER people cheat on their partners they are bad people. When you ["you" being completely rhetorical of course] or a friend does it, it is because they were going through a really rough time or had an uncontrollable connection with the other person. The people you love "experiment" with drugs, they people you gossip about are drug addicts. When you are rude to your server/partner/telephone repair guy you are having a bad day, when someone else does it they are disrespectful and miserable. We make these kind of rationalizations everyday, explaining why the reason YOU did something distasteful was due to a variety of extenuating circumstances beyond your control and why when someone else does that same thing it is because are just a plain old bad person....by the way that entire paragraph by "you" i mean me.

One of the "sources" that got me on this train of thought was a random newspaper article i happened to read while having my morning cereal. it was by a law prof talking about a student in his class (ironically it was an ethics class) failing to report he recieved a higher grade than he had earned. The underlying message of the article was that, "an ethical person knows it's wrong to cheat, a moral person doesn't cheat." Therefore there are some very ethical people out there that are just plain bad people. I imagined most people that morning read the article over their morning coffee and were appalled with the student's behavior and agreed about the problems that society now faces incorporating ethics and morals into our corporate culture. My only thoughts were, "damn, that student could've been me," and "yep, i'm immoral."

One of the other "sources" was Newman's blog (yes nooman i faithfully read your blog, and sometimes it even makes me think) It was about "grey areas" and pledging to yourself "I shouldn't" or "Will try Not to," vs. "I won't." Something I have recently admitted to myself is: I want to do the things that I do and that's why I do them. I have stopped going into potentially tempting situations locked in a mental struggle with myself whether or not i will be able to refrain. I just jump the gun and tell myself I'll probably do it, I'll probably enjoy it, and I probably won't feel all that guilty about it afterwards...and i guess that makes me a kinda bad person.

In a way, I think that this has been the most mature and honest self-growth that i have experienced in a long time. (except perhaps the legendary a to b cup semester haha) It's so relieving when you stop pretending to be that person you think you should be and you find people who accept you for it. It's also alot easier not to disapoint yourself if you stop holding yourself to those standards. So perhaps my revelation was heroic, or perhaps it was cowardice. But i like that i am no longer (at least i don't think i am) the morally superior, judgemental person i once was. Sociology theory outlines how we need deviants in society in order to reassure ourselves that we are good contributing members of society. [The, "they are worse than me, therefore i must be good" train of thought] I dont know why i am weirdly the opposite and am a generally well behaved member of society that wishes so hard she was more deviant....I guess i make up for it by making-out with deviants instead haha.

Sometimes I tell myself that because I THINK about being a bad person it means i am probably NOT a bad person because the real bad people are so bad they don't even know what bad is anymore. But, i think that's a cop out. i think i am just your average, selfish person. And most of the time it doesn't keep me up at night. But i do have a weird memory of being a young girl and hysterically crying while my mom tried to tuck me in at night because I thought i was going to hell. That is most likely because my best friend at the time was a pretty H-core Christian and used to point out all the things i did that was a "sin." [like reading my horoscope and trick-or-treating and all those other bad-ass things i was so inclined to do. haha] But maybe, just maybe i had already figured out what it has taken me 15 odd years to get back to...me=bad person.

And then sometimes, good people come into your life that actually kind of melt you a bit because they make u want to be better. Or they remind you of times when you did similar good things. Or at the very least, you feel better cause they did the good deed of the day for the both of you. And in my case, this is usually the point when i start to self-sabotage the relationship. But that is a whole different issue, and maybe this time around i can rewrite that chapter and not eff it up!? We will see, with your pep talks i've already got an edge haha.

In an effort to not leave this on a completely dark note, i do recognize there are certain people i love so much i am a good person to them. i know there are "good" things that i do, and that i am not consciously cruel to people. but, i just felt like saying what was on my mind. :)

good-night, -Linny

Lamb Wrasslin'

Sidlicious,
Rawwrr! I am sleepy. It is 10:04 and i have committed to myself that I will go for a run at 10:30. That way I am in the shower by 11:30, so i have a good 45 mins to wrassle with my new ridanqulous hair cut. Then it will be off to school for the one lecture i plan on hittin' up before the oilers game. I do have a night class but unfortunately, it conflicts with flames vs. oilers and name that tune at Ratt. Wow, school life is hard.

Lately I wish that I could bypass Monday-Thursday and just live the rest of my life in a perpetual weekend loop. Weekends are just where its at! Take last weekend por exemplaire....

Friday: Wayners Bday!
I roused myself from an afternoon nap and fired up Snoop da' Coup and headed West in search of the Outback. I got a neat little look into Waynes life beyond the 13-13th penthouse... stories of the infamous "Ranch" and other past hijinx. I also got to meet BJ....a man who makes Nooman at 7:30 on a Friday night look like a lamb.

After a lovely dinner we said goodbye to Wayne's adorable mom and headed to the peelers. I was a first timer and it far exceeded my expectations yet also fell below them. The lesson i learned is: Strippers are only fun to look at if their hot. It also pretty much ruined any fantasies i might have previously held about becoming a stripper. But c'est la vie, there comes a time in every girl's life where she has to let go of those childhood dreams and embrace reality...Rye and I decided i could still become an escort if i wanted.

Then it was off to Rum, my first visit back since my glory days of being 18. I'm not sure what has changed more, Rum or Me. But i could hardly believe this was the same place where i first hookt up with Matt to the sweet sounds of Billy Jean. But it was a great night and I will never be able to remove the image of Rye stuffing a bill down Wayne's pants as he danced on the hooker platform....believe me I've tried. Once home, Wayne got Octagonal and I pulled a party foul and swiped....me so tired!

Saturday was working the Oilers game for Molson @ Hudsons, and Sunday was a perfect wholesome, weekend wind down starting off with breakfast on Whyte and perusing some shops. Like I said, school life is hard...on another note, judging by the flipflops in my stomach on Sunday, i think i might be getting my feelings back! Either that or it's indicative of Stomach Cancer.

Alas, it is 10:30 and responsibility calls...time for a Run and then it's off to SignLanguage 101. HaHa. I can't wait till u come back for christmas...been missin u like chicken-fried misses rice.

Love. Linny.

A Lesson From West Beverly

Lin-chuk

Well, at least it sounds better than stats! But I've been in classess before where texts try to categorize the youth of today - and every time it reeks of bullshit. I think it's adult intellects trying to make sense of someting they don't understand. It's like watching a teen tv drama written by adults - do you ever actually see yourself or your friends in those shows? 90210, Saved By the Bell, Degrassi? I only wish we had an AC Slater. But no, these are like caricatures of made-up characters in the minds of people who can no longer relate...or that simply can't remember. Youth simply doesn't buy into categories, even if, as your text suggest, it would simplify things. I have no idea what group I would be a part of - I thought I was a St. Albert girl until I met you and you assured me I was neither self-conscious or self-absorbed enough as a high schooler to fit that mould - plus I still don't know how to make a messy bun. Heh heh.

But while we're on the topic of teen dramas, I also have to agree with the Newmation. Maybe you're prof is playing a little devil's advocate to get you passionate about something...passionate enough to spend all that time blogging about it. It reminds me of....well....yesterday, when I was watching Steve Sanders and Brandon Walsh in high school history class. They're prof was a nazi (Brenda's words) and graded the class on a curve...so even if you were only getting like 3 questions wrong you were still receiving a C grade because of those ricockulous* cheaters like Steve Sanders who had stolen the quiz ahead of time and were acing the class, bringing up the curve for everyone else. This is beside the point - what I'm getting at, was that everyone was criticizing the teacher for being too harsh - no matter how much studying they did they still were getting Cs. But like the teacher said in the end, they may hate me forever but they will never forget what they learned in my class. Aint that the truth. Or....maybe your prof really is just a whackjob.

That's all I have to say about that. Remember Linny - money doesn't buy you happiness. That's why the poorest times of your life (i.e. university and living in a trailer) are the best times of your life.

Hope to hear all about your wacky adventures with Wayne Danger and Ry to the Guy.

Later Skater,

Jen-couver

*ricockulous - like ridiculous but with cock instead of a dick

Identity 101?

Jen-couver,
I am seriously avoiding doing school work these days. To the point where I think I am putting my entire academic career in peril. I just don’t know where my willpower has gone. I think a big part of it is a certain course with a certain text book that I just want to punch in the mouth. It is sociology of youth, and basically the entire text is centered around a critical perspective that emerging adults are being denied a full and meaningful existence because we are A) denied our right to fully be in the workforce and therefore have economic power, and B) socialized to shape our identity through the consumption of products.

It goes on to outline how we are force fed these “identity packages” that we [literally] buy into. (i.e. a “punk” a “prep” a “university student” and whatever it is girls from St. Albert usually turn out as) It argues that we choose who we are and what we do from a small selection of already prepared personas. (like a multiple choice question, yay!) This way, it SEEMS as if we have the freedom to choose who we are, what we do, and that we participate in a democratic and just society. But really, we are just free to consume and act in ways that don’t challenge the economic elite, [those bastards eh?] It goes on to talk about how through carefully manipulated ideologies, the “youth” [youth meaning 15 to late twenties] of today are taught not only to accept their subordination but actually to be unable to recognize it. (i.e. we feel so “free” to find ourselves in our twenties and not have responsibilities when actually we are limiting our potential and self-actualization by politically disengaging ourselves and partying it up. Whoop! Whoop!) Kind of like, the best way to keep a slave’s servitude is have them love their servitude. So needless to say they are pretty down with Marx and Orwell’s 1984 and all that optimistic shtuff. It says that we are being distracted by meaningless short term goals such as appearance, cultural capital, and the quest for “cool.” Which makes sense in a way since I can regurgitate facts about Britney Spears off hand but can’t remember what I studied an hour ago and I often think I could probably have a 4.0 and cure cancer simultaneously if I spent less time thinking about superficial appearance stuff.

I guess the reason I don’t like reading it, is half the time I really recognize myself in the pages of that book and that is scary. The people in my class are also just such superior intellectual snobs the way they talk about how “youth are obsessed with clothes and consumerism” meanwhile they are rocking seven jeans and Gucci purses. The book also throws some ridonqulous stat at us about how in the last 50 years we have switched our priorities from having meaningful and happy lives to succeeding economically. Now that shocked the hell out of me because I never considered that those two things weren't one in the same.

The other reason I don’t like it is because it talks about how we are “throwing our young lives away” with all the fun we are having. [Seriously, it says that.] A very smart and handsome person once proposed a theory to me that retirement should be saved for the young. I am really starting to agree. Am I seriously paying some oppressive [and bureaucratic and consumeristic] institution $500 for this course to tell me that I am having too much fun and missing out on my life opportunities?

I think some of my best moments last summer were just chillin’ in the fishbowl and having meaningless fun and making stupid jokes or lying in bed and creeping Jes out. I am starting to realize that my favorite memories are just those little “laugh-out-loud moments” you have with the people in your life. Like, walking to school and laughing about a funny story or drinking wine and telling secrets in my bathroom with a girlfriend while we get ready for the bar. SOoooo it’s like the getting-ready part is more sincere than the actual bar part. Kind of like how the road trip is more fun than actually getting there… Wowzers, I think that I just had an epiphany ha-ha. I think maybe, youth is like a road trip to getting to who u are. This is an unfortunate analogy for me because I am almost positive that I’m on a highway to hell. But regardless, they are our own road trips and we can do whatever the eff we want with them. And my road trip is going to be sweet..and sexy...and in a hot-boxed hippy van. HaHa.

It also doesn’t really help matters that I slunk into class late and hungover this morning in the middle of a lecture about how women are ‘tricked’ into thinking they can empower themselves through sex but they are really allowing themselves to fall into the “trap of femininity.” The slide on the power point when I walked in was honest to god about the rising rates of promiscuous women and how 75% of women no longer define oral sex as actual sex....of course my whackjob prof somehow managed to summarize the downfall of modern women in western culture based on how we give head.

Well, those are my deep and philosophical thoughts for the week to measure up against yours. Your newmanesque musings were less selfish and much more clearly articulated than mine. Haha, I guess some things never change hey? I’m so glad you’re the level headed half of our friendship…TEAMWORK YA!
- Lin-chuck

Newmanesque Musings

When I was around ten years old, I was just about the most patriotic kid I knew. I would single-handedly argue the merits of Canadian football over American to all the boys in my class, I did school reports on Lorne Michaels and the legacy of Canadians in American comedy shows...I even sent Jason Priestley a Canadian flag autographed by all my friends so the man behind Brandon Walsh wouldn't forget his roots (yeah, cause that's what he wanted, autographs by a bunch of fifth grade girls). I was less emotional then than I am now (which says a lot), but the times I really remember getting teary eyed as a kid were when I would hear the national anthem played when a Canadian would bring home the gold in the Olympic games.

As I grew older, I became less so. Or at least less vocal about it. I came to the realization that the depth of our patriotism could be summed up in a collection of beer commercials. All of a sudden, everyone was loud and proud and my name is Joe and I AM Canadian. Even as I traveled overseas I was coming across scads of loud-mouthed, arrogant Canadians - whereas the few Americans I met seemed subtle and laid back. Everything I had always told myself it meant to be Canadian was tainted. Probably one of the few times over the past five years that I have spoken passionately about my country were in half drunken arguments with Mike Cahill at Fredas. For those of you who have never had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Cahill, he is a loud-mouthed, Irish-Catholic, hard-nosed republican from Massachusetts. One of his favourite discussion topics, to get a rise out of us Canucks, was the war effort - or more accurately - the Canadians lack thereof. Of course he was shocked to learn that, throughout the 20th century, Canadians have lost over 117 000 men in various war efforts (actually I think Cahill was just shocked to learn that the rest of the world was involved in a war BEFORE Pearl Harbour was bombed). He would also rag on us for not joining the U.S. in Iraq, at which point we would point out all of the men and women we have in Afghanistan trying to clean up the destruction that the U.S. left behind when they learned about the WMD in Iraq.

Which (longwindedly) brings me to my point. In my opinion, today is the most patriotic of all days, even more than July 1st, because today we celebrate everyday citizens becoming national heroes. I've always been big on Remembrance Day, and I'm not sure if it's because I had two Grandfathers would fought in the Air Force, or because on our family trip to England when I was eleven we went to every War Museum in Britain and listened exclusively to "Vera Lynn - Songs That Got Us Through The War" as we drove through the English countryside (I still remember all the words - it's a popular request at parties). But I'll admit, in the last few years my passion for this day seems to have dwindled alongside said patriotism. I'm proud of our present soldiers, but I'm having a hard time saluting them without really understanding what they're doing there. The tangibility of past wars is gone, and instead of hearing gut-wrenching stories about soldiers dying in great battles overseas to hold enemy lines, I'm reading press releases about accidental friendly fire incidents. Case in point, I was up partying all night last night in Downtown Vancouver and, on virtually no sleep and in the clothes I was wearing yesterday, I stumbled to the Skytrain this morning, passing herds of people wearing poppies as they made their way to ceremonies. I should have felt ashamed. Instead I felt nothing. But upon returning home, I turned on the TV and took in the various ceremonies going on across the country. It was at that point that I started thinking about everything I used to argue about with Cahill. It was then I realized the selfishness of my thinking. Here I am telling Mike about what WE're doing over in Afghanistan, how WE are over there trying to restore the economy, the infrastructure, the hope. And then it hit me. There I was, lying hungover on my couch, replenishing my electrolytes. Meanwhile these soldiers have left they're loved ones and everything that they know, to go into unknown territory to try to save people they have never even met, not knowing for sure if they are coming back. All in the name of Canada - so, as a Canadian, I can set the Michael Cahill's of the world straight about what WE are doing to make the world a better place.

So as I sit here now writing this blog and watching the Journey of the Unknown Soldier, I must admit, I'm getting a little misty. Maybe I'm just depressed at the fact that I am sitting here by myself eating Chinese take out and watching public television on a Saturday night. But I think there may be something more.

Lest We Forget

Hottata

P.S. Linny, your drunk texts are creeping on the whack side of whack ridonquless. I think we need to address this issue.

Current Events

I generally don't like to comment on political situations or world events on this blog. This isn't because I don't find it interesting or I am fearful of offending someone with my views. It is mostly because I find talking about myself much more appealing. But something hit the news stands today that I feel was just too monumental not to mention. It gets to a point where you have to step back and wonder, “What is this world coming to?”

Yes, it’s true y’all. ; K-Fed and Brit are no more. I don’t know if you guys are thinking along the same lines as me but, how the hell did she let a gem like him slip through her fingers? If there’s no hope for them, we are all deep trouble. I mean, they got matching tattoos together, and that shit means something. Their love was supposed to last as long as the little Vegas dice on their wrists.

Something must have gone horribly wrong. Maybe it was because Brit got knocked up twice in a year and kinda’ got fat. Maybe it was because Kev’s aspirations to have a rap career went from adorably cute like a little kid saying he wants to be an Astronaut when he grows up to extremely embarrassing like when your boyfriend is that weird dude at parties who always tries to do card tricks. Either way, if two disgustingly rich white-trash millionaires can’t make it in this crazy world…where does that leave the rest of us? Sometimes I just don’t know…

A Haiku About Wine

Studying While Bored
It Sips Sweetly From My Cup
Squashed Grapes Fermented