I was at church today.

Y'all should be happy hypocrisy isn't a crime, because otherwise I'd be on the phone trying to convince one of you to bail me out right now.

I was at Church on 99th for my friend Babil's baptism, which was very important to her, and therefore to me.

[Babil, I decided not to censor my evaluation of this experience because of our friendship. You know the only reason I was there was you. You might want to stop reading now, just to be safe]

In the spirit of being honest in all my relationships, I will reiterate how creeped out I am by organized religion, and how convinced I am that this is all just an excuse for a peer group.

There was a stage, stage lighting, two huge screens that actually run commercials for the church and its events(yes, they call them commercials themselves), and a Christian Rock band in skater clothes and spiky hair. There is a ton of forced social interaction(turn around and introduce yourself to three or four people! NOW! ), and lots of singing(I don't matter, I am small, I am unimportant, I live only for god, god is great, he is my lord, he is my saviour, he is my majesty; wash, rinse, repeat) and raising hands to ceilings.

The sermon was about confidence, and the essence was that we should approach absolutely everything in life with the expectation that the outcome will be positive, and derive that expectation from trust in God. We also shouldn't be surrounding ourselves with negative people, or the people who bear bad news and talk about the unpleasant things in life. I was there once before, and I remember the sermon then was about why porn should be illegal because human beings don't have the strength to resist it when it's right there in front of their eyes.

All in all, a totally depowering and eyeclosing message.

We also watched a movie clip on those big screens- Martin Luther, which made me very angry. Martin Luther was German. Very much so. I am Lutheran by birth, not by conviction, and have gone through all the Christian initiation processes like confirmation and the likes- trust me.
Back to the movie though:

WHY THE FUCK DOES EVERYBODY IN THAT MOVIE HAVE A BRITISH ACCENT? THE MOVIE WASN'T EVEN MADE BY A BRITISH COMPANY! IN FACT, IT WAS A GERMAN COMPANY! I MEAN, WHAT THE HECK WERE YOU THINKING?

Oh wait, I know: British accents are hot, and so is Ralph Fiennes, and German accents are not, and subtitles aren't either, and that's how we're going to get people to watch a movie about some German guy who is partly famous for introducing very crude and colourful sayings into the German language and farting a lot. No, I am not kidding- Martin Luther was not a dignified hottie by today's standards.

Go figure.

As for a peer group, I'll take council over church any day. At least most of the people there don't have creepily blissful smiles on their faces and raise their arms to the ceiling while singing the UofA cheer song.

Oh, the joy that is paper writing

So, doing research on the WTO and its effects on sustainable development, I found this image as part of a card game linked from the Corporate Watch website.

A Google search for "El Catrin" revealed that it is:

• The name of a CD and of a song (you can listen to part of the song, but I'd only recommend it if you have a strong stomach; I mean, even looking at the cover is pretty fricking hilarious)
• The name of a restaurant in the Dominican Republic(*sigh*)
• The name of a piece of art inspired by Hugh Heffner(yes, it features busty women in bunny outfits)
• The name of a brand of tequila(tequila of the month, I might add)

Uhm...ok. All the other cards seem to make sense in Spanish, but I have yet to figure out why this one says my name. In the meantime, I'll just be amused.

Oh, and I also found this fun fact: The International Forum on Gobalization has a member on its board of directors(which features such prominent personalities as Maude Barlow and Vandana Shiva) called Jerry Mander. I repeat, Jerry Mander.

What was your mom thinking?

I really didn't expect to be so amused while working on a paper.

Honestly though, keep'em coming.

Catrin's Top Ten Hottest Celebrities

Inspired by Heather's post on the same subject, I made my own list of hot celebrities. It's only a Top Ten though; I suspect that is because I am both lazier and have weirder taste in men than she does.

Well, here goes.

# 10 : Orlando Bloom (especially in Lord of the Rings)

I think it's the bow and arrow.

# 9: Vincent D'Onofrio in Law&Order CI

What can I say? Being a smartass is hot.

# 8: Johnny Depp

What can I say? Humour is hot.

# 7: Jeffrey Sachs

What can I say? Idealism is hot.

# 6: Dan Savage

What a huge loss for the women in this world.

#5: Westernhagen

This one goes way back. To when I was 11 or so.

# 4: Prince William

I am a bit ashamed of this one, but nonetheless, I'll admit to it.

#3 : Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones

An adventurous academic? Oh my.

# 2 : John Cusack

High Fidelity.

#1: Joaquin Phoenix

Now, I am not usually one to swoon solely based on guys' looks.

Here's the exception.

How many drunk Hacks does it take to change a lightbulb?

To describe the evening, there would have to be a word for "extremely hilarious and enjoyable while at the same time somewhat frightening".

So, I should just come up with such a word, right?

Alright. How about "frightarious"? No, that's not very creative. I am just going to make it up completely.

Here goes: Kyle's birthday was igglesome.

(All of a sudden, I am getting the feeling I have stolen this word from somewhere. Is it Balderdash? Huh. If not, I totally expect this word to catch on and be in the OED by 2008)

I moved today

I am proud to report that my new residence henceforth is right across from Hack House with one honourable and notorious Mike Hudema.

On the way to my new residence, packed tightly into a Honda Civic with a bunch of furniture and my friend Andros, what shall overtake us than a silver Buick with a very intriguing license plate?

Andros, sayeth I, did I read this correctly on that license plate yonder?
I do not know, fair maid, sayeth he, and steppeth on the gas.
Alas! exclaimeth I as the speedometer reacheth 90km/h, 'Tis true! It doth indead say QUORUM2 !

In conclusion: Awesome.

Friends and 1000 raw eggs(approximately)

Yes, this is going to be a sentimental post. But I'll try to make it amusing/sentimental, so hang on, all you cynical people.

Saturday
So, Saturday was one of the most relaxing and enjoyable days I have had in my life. I went to Chris Chan's tea party. Yes, a tea party.
I got to spend the day with 3 of my favourite people in the world(they all crack the Top20, and that includes family), and we just sat there for hours, drinking tea, eating delicious food, talking, and, inevitably, peeing. Well, no, not while sitting there, obviously, but you get the idea. Every half an hour, Chris Chan pulled out some different delicious dish(Samosas. Stuffed grape leaves. Cabbage rolls. Pasta salad. Perogies with saskatoons.Rice with mangoes, coconut milk, and avocadoes. Fried tofu sticks. Biscotti. Chocolate. Mint-orange juice. And I am sure I must be forgetting something), and every half an hour, we tried a different delicious tea(except for the "Green Gunpowder- that one was awful. I mean, uagh. Eww. *retch*).

I was just so unbelievably relaxed, and everything seemed to be going my way. I realized at this point that my life has been getting better for a while now, in almost all aspects(except for healthy eating habits. Damn those 5 pounds). I got to talk about SU things, and webboard threads, and Weakerthans concerts, and short films(One naked man...two naked men...three naked men...). I discovered that both Sam and I are gay men inside, and that Sam and I belong to a group of three people who can't tell each other apart when trying to remember who they have talked to about a specific concept, and that we both had a very embarassing liking for the TV show Roseanne as teenagers, and that we both always wanted to be like Darlene on the show, because she was boyish and sarcastic and cynical and because her boyfriend was cute and geeky and therefore, hot.

To sum up, it was like a mini vacation, and I felt like moving in.

We gave the evening a glorious finish by rewatching the ingenious Engg week movie night's uncontested winning film "A Midsummer Byte's Dream"(you should all get a copy of it on DVD- I totally kick ass in it. Literally).

Quotes of the night:

Sam Power:"What's that cake called that has cream cheese in it?"

Chris Chan: "Cheese cake?"

Sam Power: "Uhm...right."

Myself: "Is he caucasian?"

Chris Chan:"No, he's in Engineering."


Sunday

I woke up late. In a foul and broody mood. I spent most of my day moping around unproductively. In the evening, my totally insane friend Andros was supposed to come over for his birthday present, which entailed Sushi and movies. And so it came to pass that I should have my first Sushi experience.

What can I say? I am a huge sucker for new experiences. I really am. I ate all kinds of fish in the shape of sushi, maki rolls, and something called Dragon Eyes, which was hands down the most beautiful food I have ever ingested. I had some of the best Japanese green tea I have ever tried, even though I was somewhat surprised by its intense nutty flavour.

Andros and I sat at the bar and watched all kinds of Sushi being prepared, and when we enquired about some beautifully spotted pocket sized eggs, we were offered a seaweed roll to try. Now, this roll consisted of about a thousand raw eggs, 999 of which were fish eggs, and one of which was a beautiful quail's egg, sitting right on top of all the fish eggs in its shiny orange glory. What can I say? I put in in my mouth. The little fish eggs were quite hard in texture, and made little popping crunchy noises while I ate them. The quail's egg gave the whole concoction a creamy texture. To my great surprise, it was most enjoyable.

...and guess what I had for dessert?

Green Tea Ice cream. It was hands down the best ice cream I have eaten in a long time, and tastes nothing like you would expect, all the while still really tasting like ...well, green tea. Fascinating....


Afterwards, we rented Collateral. Which wasn't a bad movie, but a lot worse than I expected. Predictable, and cheesy, in a been-there-seen-that-cynical-serial-killer-with-a-bad-childhood-kidnaps-a-loser-cabdriver-and-forces-the-cab-driver-to-drive-him-around-while-killing-people-all-the-while-teaching-the-cab-driver-to-be-more-confident-which-turns-out-to-be-the-killer's-downfall-when-alas!-the-woman-who-is-his-next-victim-turns-out-to-be-the-cab-driver's-love-interest-and-the-cab-driver-decides-to-use-his-newfound-confidence-to-kill-the-killer kind of way.

To sum it up: Blegh.

Although,on second thought, there *was* one good quote:

"You killed him!"
"No, I shot him. The bullet killed him."

There is something *about* smartass serial killers. And schizophrenic mathematicians. When they're played by Tom Cruise and Russel Crowe, respectively.

But anyways, what I was originally trying to get at: I had a good time. I felt comfortable. My brooding mood was minimized. I put things back into perspective.

Thanks, Andros, Chris, and Sam. You're all so beautifully weird in your own ways.

I found a dusty blue thong under the dryer in the laundry room...

...anyone?

And I'm going down, all the way down

I'm on the highway to hell

1. SLOTH

• I haven't done any readings since January 25th. I should also add that only two of my classes require readings in the first place.
• The day of my economics 281 midterm, I got out of bed 20 minutes before I had to catch the bus. I must have smelled pretty bad, but there was no time for showering. Or studying, at that.
• Instead of preparing for my midterms, I spent my time webboarding and blogging. When I tried to get some last minute studying in an hour before my POl S 357 exam, I was intercepted by the likes of Steve Smith, Gregory Harlow, Adam Cook and towards the end Justin Kehoe. So, in conclusion: I didn't. Study, that is.
• My room looks like that of a teenage boy. Yes, it's that bad. And where are these little flies coming from?

2.PRIDE

• My art teacher called my masterpiece(tentatively entitled "Rendition of the three fucking pears that I wish had been hermaphrodites") forensic. Yes, forensic: "It looks like a crime scene." Why is this under PRIDE? I am not certain. It was either that or GLUTTONY(On account of the pears, you see).
• I rule. No, seriously. I got a beautiful 90% on the Econ midterm I mentioned above. How? I honestly can't remember. All I know is that I am still in awe when I look at the 6/7 points on the question that Gordon Lee called the hardest question on the exam, and for which he didn't even calculate an average, so bad were people's performances on it. Fun fact: I honestly can't remeber how on earth I did it. Somehow, the term "sleep-deprived epiphany" comes to mind.
• I also managed to do 5 questions when only 4 were required-Gordon Lee offers to take your best 4, if you have time. IF. The one he axed on my exam: 6 points out of 7. Mua ha ha. And what are you looking at me for with this disgusted look on your face? This section *is* called PRIDE, for Christ's sake.

3.GLUTTONY

• On Valentine's Day, I ate 6 large cinnamon buns in less than 22 hours, in addition to my regular meals.
• Today, I had 4 large peperoni sticks, three slices of rye bread and an entire container of hummus for lunch(You know how they call the bigger-sized containers of hummus "party size"? *insert mildly amused smile here*). And yes, I did dip the peperonis into the hummus, I sick bastard. I then rounded up the meal with some Lindt Valentine's chocolates I bought for myself.

4.ENVY

• I want to know who got 100% on that Econ exam. That ass. Uh, do you think s/he wants to be my friend..?

5.WRATH

• My writing teacher inquires politely as to where my assignment is. I reply politely that I haven't done it yet. He then counters, "I thought in Germany the trains are always on time." I then reply sweetly: "That is correct. But we are neither in Germany nor am I a train." Instead of replying, he takes my homemade banana bread and stuffs it in his breast pocket. Ugh. I felt rather wrathful after that.

6.GREED

• I want an i pod. Really badly. And a lap top. And so, so, so many books and CDs. I am going to consumerist hell.

7.LUST

...is an inordinate craving for the pleasures of the body.

Uhm, check.

Well...

I am tired. Ask me again tomorrow.

You didn't ask me anything, you say?

Oh. Alright then.

Funniest comic ever

Click on it for a bigger size- the devil is in the details.

Also, do yourself a favour and sing it in your head.

(That's right, now you will never listen to Frank Sinatra again without thinking about fellatio with a large mammal. Mua ha ha...)

I mean, what was I thinking...

...taking a stupid Art class in the evening?

I just spent three fucking hours drawing three fucking pears. Yes, pears. In black and white. Three goddamn hours. For all of you out there who don't have my knack for math:

That is one full hour per pear!

Nobody, I repeat, nobody, should ever care about pears that much. I can see drawing three naked men for an hour each. Or three naked women. Christ, I'd even draw three hermaphrodites.

But pears?

That's just wrong.

Watching Hotel Rwanda...

...makes me want to be a teacher. I just keep thinking and thinking and trying to blame people and figuring out who was at fault, and it all comes down to one thing: people caring.

People care only if they know.

They know only if they are taught.

Read this now

It's hilarious. And funny, because it's about someone's psychotic German girlfriend.


And, I agree with her on some points. For one, it is imperative to break a Kit Kat bar into half before you eat it.

Geez, I almost missed a meeting about a $5000 award reading this.

The New Gateway Purity Test is Out

And I humbly ask for all of your scores such that I may place myself in the greater context. I have calculated my preliminary score, but there are a few terms that I need clarified before I will post the actual number.

My sociology teacher is also pretty cool. Not as hilarious as my writing teacher, mind you, but he does make reference to the Onion every now and then. Today was one of those days where I felt like being belligerent.

We watched a film called "Advertising and the end of the world", the gist of which is advertising = evil and leads people to believe that what they need to be happy is things, when really it is meaningful personal relationships.

I mostly agreed with what the film had to say, for example, that there is so much advertising out there(3600 instances of advertising per person per day) that companies have to find way to cut through all the noise and still get to us, whether that happens through appealing toour dreams and desires, or making us fear our worst nightmares(which are all social, by the way, as opposed to materialistic. In fact, the advertising industry has started shifting away from advertising the actual characteristics of the given product as early as the 1920s, when they noticed that after a certain level of comfort, things only sell when tied to positive social experiences- like Stovetop stuffing and a happy family, or say Axe aftershave and sex in an elevator).

"So, does anyone know an example for this? Let's throw some out there. Catrin?"

"Do you know that commercial where a man and a woman are playing twister, and he has his bum in her face, and then someone asks him how his diarrhoea was?"

(and by the way, that is how diarrhoea is spelt- not "diarrhea", which is the US American spelling. And we don't want that, now do we?)

"Uhm, no. But yes, I guess that is a good example for how the nightmare scheme works. What did you think about that segment about De Beers?"

"That was quite scary how their own promotional video stated that they have the plan to make the diamond anniversary ring a cultural obligation, just like the diamond engagement ring has become just that in the short time span of 40 years of advertising. "

Another student:

"Yeah, but If you want to propose to your girlfriend, she will want one. What are you going to do?"

I have a suggestion:

"Find a better girlfriend."

I get some laughs there, but my teacher retorts, sarcstically:

"So I am supposed to give her a ring from a cracker jack box?"

I am unclear how he could be so clueless.

"Of course! Have you never seen Breakfast at Tiffany's? That would be the best proposal ever."

He mumbles something like "O....kay.....I guess for some really weird people that might work.. "

Then, he recovers:

"Yeah, so, there are some social obligations that don't really leave the consumers with a choice. For example, there was this headline in the Onion the other day: "Coke- refreshing *and* mandatory. " That plays satirically on the fact that there are some consumer goods that you just can't not take part in."

I am full of constructive suggestions:

"Like pants?"

He gives me this look, and says:

"Uhm, I guess."

I shut up for the rest of the class. I didn't want to overdo it.

I am *so* mad at myself...

...why do I second guess myself? Why do I change the answer on my Econ assignment after a lengthy discussion, when I still think I am right, just because three other people oppose me?

F**K!!!

There go seven points. SEVEN.

This is the worst mark I ever got at university- 65%.
And why? Because I thought, well, if Ross, and according to Ross Mustafa, and two other guys who happened to be in the classroom when we discussed it, all think it goes this way, then it must.

Well, guess what? Bulls**t.

It wasn't even that they were wrong, it was about interpreting the question. I realize that with their interpretation of the question, their answer would have been correct. But when it comes to interpreting written things, I am usually right, where usally stands for always.

AAARGH!

(Note: I am not mad at anyone but myself for changing an answer for no other reason than peer pressure. That is just so not me. Well, then again, I *did* shake my fist across the class room at Ross when I realized that I would have been right. Uhm, sorry, I guess.)

Thank you, Dr Lahey.

He extended the deadline for the essay. Boy, am I ever lucky. I have an essay due tomorrow that I have started writing an hour ago(yes, I am taking time off to blog. I have my priorities), and a midterm on Wednesday, plus this stupid writing essay would have been due on Wednesday too. If you've read my blog faithfully, you know that I am stuck with this four page draft that I refused to let anyone read- now, I have the time to write something new. Phew.


Highlights of today's writing class:

He came on time!

Indeed, he walked in, looking at my breakfast, looking closer, bending over, giving me a funny look.

What is it, Lahey, never seen anyone eat deep fried plantains for breakfast before?

Eurocentrist.


Then, he starts the class with this:

"I got something in the mail from Rahim Jaffer, that guy from the Canadian Alliance."

(Huge uproar. Some Chuckling. Then, clarification.)

"Anyways, his pamphlet had a huge amount of grammatical mistakes. I also got this thing from these consultants who call themselves 'Dress For Success', and I counted 18 grammatical mistakes. So I gave them a call to let them know. They tried to say it was the editor's fault- after all, they weren't 'specialists' in that kind of thing."


A student comes in late.

He looks shocked and says: "Shhhh! Shhhh, here she comes."

(Student looks confused. He chuckles for the rest of the class.)


Then, a sentence:

I decided to buy my sister a car in Paris.
I decided in Paris to buy my sister a car.
In Paris, I decided to buy my sister a car.

"In which sentences does he only decide in Paris, and in which does he actually buy it in Paris? Catrin?"

"I think the third one clearly stated that he made the decision in Paris, but whether or not he bought it there is unclear. When the comma separates an introductory phrase, doesn't that mean that it modifies the whole sentence that follows?"

Another student:

"Why don't we just write 'I decided to buy a car for my sister in Paris.'?"

"Great, now the sister could be in Paris too. Yeah, why don't we do *triple* ambiguity! While we're at ambiguity, let's *crank* it up! Let's do a *buffet* of ambiguity! A *smorgasbord* of ambiguity!"


Later, he talks about the movie "Black Hawk Down".

"There is no such thing as just combat. It's not checkers."

Then, up until the end of class, he proceeds to imitate the battlefield atmosphere, by forming a little beat box with his hands, and imitating radio transmission of commands, including much interference.

"Kzchczhczczhzzzkkkrkrk...Black Hawk Down.....Kscchhhzzhzrrrrrzzzz.....do you copy? I SAY, DO YOU COPY? Secure the peri....krrrrrrrkkkkkkkkxxxxxxxxchchchczzzzzz......"



When I go to talk to him about my essay topic, he extends his hand out to me, then says:

"Catrin, good to see you sober."

Ass.

WHY CYCLISTS SHOULD WEAR BLACK SHORTS.

Enjoy.

. 

Uhm...yeah. They really should. 

My writing teacher was only four minutes late today.

As he walks in, he distributes copies of Sting's lyrics to "Lazarus Heart".

"Do you know how many copies I have to make a week? In fact, I am in the process of preparing a law suit against the university for hair loss on account of radiation leaks."

(It's funny, because he is balding prematurely)

"Do you ever move the paper around while copying, just for the heck of it?"

Uhm... no. Not really. Not at all, in fact.

"Just to see what will happen? Little swirls, and the letters are all drawn out...it looks very artful."

I'll take your word for it.



Next, an unwelcome question:

"Catrin, did you bring your essay draft today?"

(It was due a week ago.)

"Uhm, I thought I'd email it to Molly...my roommate was still sleeping when I wanted to print it out, and the printer is in her room."

Oh, shit. That was the worst excuse ever. It is the truth though, except for that "wanting to print it out" part. But do you know what the funniest thing is? I actually have a four page draft, but it is so personal that I would rather die then let random people in this class read it, and smear some hippie-ass comments on it. It's bad enough *he* will get to see it next week.

"Well, you were supposed to bring three drafts."

"Uhm, if anybody else wants to give me their email address, I'd be happy to send it to them too."

Silence(Has anybody else ever noticed how deafeningly loud those clocks in Humanities tick?).

I smile at my two neighbours, and try to talk without opening my mouth too wide: "Come on, give me your email. It's not like I am going to send you anything- we all know that."

They reluctantly do so, since they believe me(on account of my by now legendary laziness, which, I won't lie to you, also played a large role), and with that, the danger passes.



Then:

"I am cleaning out my office right now, and I have a bunch of old short stories lying around, from when I made a copy or two too many- so, for your next essay, I'll give each of you a random story and make you incorporate some aspect of it. I'd like to also point out how extremely proud I am of how I managed to balance the crass utility of getting all that stuff out of my office with the breathtaking creativity of this exercise."



After that, we talk about the lyrics:
(here's a short excerpt)

Though the sword was his protection
The wound itself would give him power
The power to remake himself at the time of his darkest hour
She said the wound would give him courage and pain
The kind of pain that you can't hide
From the wound a lovely flower grew
From somewhere deep inside

"I mean, she didn't stab him and say: that'll make you tough, sonnie. It's imagery. So, if there wasn't a picture of Sting on this sheet of paper, could this pass for poetry? Catrin?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You can tell these are lyrics by the repetition of certain lines. In poetry, repeated lines are extremely significant, and therefore rare."

Another student cuts in:

"Yes, unless it's a fixed form, but it's not- I mean, the iambic pentameter is all wrong. Oh, shit, I actually have no idea what that is."

He looks at her, and says:

"Great, that is just what we need in this class: polysyllabic bullshit."




And, for a great and glorious finale, this comment:

"There is a scholarship out there for people who are considering a master's in library studies. Who wants to do a master's in library studies, you ask? Well, none of us here, that's for sure. But you just have to be considering it. I mean, I am considering training for a marathon as we speak. So, unless they shoot you up with truth serum and you tell them that you don't even like books, but that in fact, you want to burn them, you'll be fine. Just don't get caught urinating on books in Cameron or something."



On April 20th or so, I will go to his office, and hand him the URL to this site. I can't wait. Please, somebody take his class in Spring/Summer(M T W R F, 09:30 - 11:50), because I am dead certain he will make reference to this blog then constantly. I mean, What would an egomaniac do?

Exactly.

Somebody found this blog...

...by googling "German Scheisse Porn".

Awesome.