Sound Bytes

Random musings and conversations from the desk of Wein. Please note, some bytes may be paraphrased. Also, some may be completely fabricated or I may have only had them in my head.

Erin: I quit. And I'm not going back to Ford.
Respondent 1: You lie.
Erin: Fuck you. I was going to write my essay and only half quit but now I have to prove you wrong. So when I fail it will be all your fault.

And the blame I lay will be fierce.

Erin: My tequila line is better.
Respondent 2: But when life give you lemons you should bust out the tequila and salt.
Erin: No, when life gives you lemons you should squeeze the juice into your super soaker and squirt people in the eyes with it.
Respondent 2: Very clever.
Erin: Yes, I take my life with a grain of salt.
Respondent 2: Is that so?
Erin: And a slice of lime.
Erin: And a shot of tequila.
Respondent 2: Now that makes sense.
Erin: It is my motto. That and Fuck Hakuna Matata.
Respondent 2: Because there are always worries.
Erin: Because timon and pumbaa are degenerates who dont know anything about themselves or their true feelings.

Poor Timon and Pumbaa...You know that the world thinks you are falling apart when :

Erin: No my way is funnier.
Respondent 2.1: Of course it is because you are the funniest.

Or:

Erin: Can you fix me?
Respondent 3: Hand me a wrench.
Erin: To hit me with?
Respondent 3: No to tighten up your legs.
Erin: Did you just call me loose?

And finally,

Erin: Well, since you have no love for my butt and my bitterness will either kill me or itself so soon you will have no reason to like me.
Respondent 3: No I like you because you're the smartest person in the world and you're funny as hell.

And no night would be complete without a phone call from Jean, ahem, un/respondent 4:

Erin: So ya, I'm having a really bad day.
Un/Respondent 4: MOM the information is on the back of the package. You should take Benedryl, not Advil if you are itchy.
Erin: No one seems to be listening to me...
Un/Respondent 4: I'm telling you it's right there. You can have the advil if you like. Take two if you think they will help.
Erin: And I just feel really down.
Un/Respondent 4: I'm in NURSING I know what kind of meds you should take...
Erin: I think I'm going to flop with this presentation tomorrow.
Un/Respondent 4: Did I tell you that I got perfect on my psych paper?
Erin: Who is paying the bill for this call?
Un/Respondent 4: Haha, that's what my mom just said. I told her not to worry; you're picking up the tab for this one.


And yet, the best call of the night is to kill that evil bitch by making her drink Draino. The world is a bad influence on me. I'm going to watch the 1:30 version of the Daily Show and then I'm going to finish up my essay and practise my presentation. Because if there is one thing I am really bad at in this world, it is failing. If there are two, it is quitting. Manic March is almost over...as good a time as any to rediscover the wonders of Weinism. Convert. Cuz tonight's the night the world just won't end...again.

8 Minute Rant

The end is near...let's pray I make it there.

• Eight minutes becomes six in the blink of an eye. I have 6 minutes before I should be at the clinic.
• Rory never came. My heart broke twice. And that is why I died.
• Give a little bit of your love to me.
• I have a 3000 word paper due tomorrow and apparently Eileen is coming to MY house to work on the project. What the hell?? How did that happen?
• I hope she trips on one of the many bras that are littering my floor.
• I hope I don't trip on any of them though.
• Damn I need to do some laundry.
• I am hungry.
• And late.
• You make me complete.
• Apparently my two best features are my bitterness and my butt--don't I sound like a fascinating individual.
• Alycia is on the list. She tried to make me sing bitter days at a party when I didn't even have a drink in my hand.
• It cost me 13 dollars to get home on Friday.
• Scott and I consumed a lot of beer.
• And ice cream.
• Fuck I'm really late.
• Convert.

Tapping Hunt: The Rewrite

If you would like to see the "original" first hand account of this story visit http://randommidnightthought.blogspot.com . Thanks to Jean for making my life crazy enough to have something worth writing every day--like it or not.

Jean and I were awesome kids. When we were in grade 12, the teachers adored us (mostly because I was wonderful and Jean knew me--if I could accept her, then they must follow suit). If we had one shortcoming it was our mutual hatred for TAP. The Teacher Assistantship program was a waste of time; by grade 12, I had forgotten who my TAP teacher was (and I think it might have just been my normal first period teacher).

Living life on the edge, Jean and I generally met up after first period for awesome-fun ditching. We never really got caught because I handled all inquiries: "What are you girls doing in the hallway, shouldn't you be in TAP?" reply: "We are on our way right now. We don't have first period and we're running a little late because we forgot it was Thursday." But, somewhere along the lines our wires got crossed and when an "angry" Mr. Hunt stuck his head out of his TAP class and saw Jean and I dawdling along, things got messy.

Jean and I are hyper young women. We were in search of chocolate milk, or perhaps popsicles. Jean was probably ranting about something and I was probably responding by nodding while thinking about something else. I had said to Jean, "I think I did pretty well on that Calculus test." Jean said, "I'll Calculus you."

Erin: "I want some chocolate milk."
Jean: "I'll milk you."
Erin: "You will not I'll kill you if you touch my boobs!"
Jean: "I'll boob you."

And so on...

So, dear Mr. Hunt, only doing his job was astonished to find his reprimand--"Girls, why aren't you in TAP?"--responded to as such: "I'll TAP YOU HUNT!" Followed by Jean turning beet red and heading for the hills (or some other place to hide). I stood there laughing until I could stand up again, and then just looked at Hunt and strolled off...very calm, very cool, very collected.

And that is the truth of the matter.

Jean made me stay up until 3 in the AM last night finishing a puzzle...and she wasn't even there. Some friend huh? I love you Jean (Note to self...you know the drill).

I'm Dead Again...

In case you thought my heart could take it...here's proof that just breaking a promise inadvertantly is enough to kill me--twice.




















At least Rory recognizes how much grief he's causing me...soo lonely here all alone.

I'm Dead

This is how much Rory hates me...



Enough to kill me.

There aren't enough exclamation points in the world!

FYI: While I'm writing this I'm bawling my eyes out (no, not balling, as in with a melon baller). I'm crying because Jean wants me to.

Top Ten Reasons to Cry until Your Eyes Bleed:

1. Your best friend is moving a quarter of the way to London but in the direction of Milton.
2. Your best friend has the worst math skills on the face of the planet.
3. Last summer was the last summer but this summer was supposed to be. Now the past is becoming the future and there is no way you could have known but you should have known so that you could have appreciated it better!!
4. You are growing up and will have to get a job!!
5. Someone talked you into dancing to bootylicious on a table!
6. Rory ditched you!!!
7. 6000 words in less than 48 hours!!!
8. You can't go home and have a crochet party and eat chocolate fondue and watch Hope Floats or Shrek because you have to write essays!!!!!!!
9. You went to Mary Maxim without your best friend and she still loves you but she's moving away!! and she is NOT moving closer to Listowel or closer to Paris!!
10. Jean called you so that you would have a meltdown when you had too much work to do because that is the meanest thing she could think up but she's not mean she's just sad because you were supposed to make everything okay when Dave went to basic training but now she will be too far away to console!!!

WHAT THE HELL?!?

The world is ending. It's all over now. I'm going to go cry some more.

R to the Power of T

Rob Thomas sings, "What if I could hold you till I feel you move inside of me?" And the crowd goes, "OOOOOooooooooooooooooooooh." Erin claims, "That is also sexual." Jean says, "You should listen to her. She's a whale biologist." And this is why Erin and Jean shouldn't be allowed in public places...

For Valentine's Days Shane bought me tickets to see Rob Thomas. It was supposed to be a lovely, romantic evening for the two of us. He got put on nights, so he couldn't take me. Jean loves things that I love so she said she would come and that David could drive me back to London the same night. Good plan. Almost.

It cost 4 dollars for two small pops. We figured there were refills, but didn't want to hang on to the cups, so we came up with a plan to just pick our cups out of the trash when we got thirsty again. And, love, that is just the beginning.

The opening act was Anna something. She was okay, but wore ugly clothes. Jean and I kept looking at eachother, asking, "Are those words? Is she singing in English?" And it was awesome because we had the same thoughts. As it turns out, if you know the song she's singing then it's easier to tell if she's saying real words or not.

Robert came on around 9 o'clock. He played some interesting songs. Apparently, he likes the songs he wrote when he was with MB20 but only if he gets to sing them crazy and abnormally. I barely recognized Bent and The Difference (aka the Boulevard song) was too fast.

There was this girl a couple rows up from us and I was pretty sure she was on some sort of nasty drug. She just seemed extra stupid. And the world is relatively dumb to begin with. I will show you my impression of her if you'd like. It's really good.

Jean and I like contraversy, so we really wanted to start a fight. We were all set to just start yelling at someone and then take a swing at them but miss and hit the person two rows ahead of us and then blame it on the person we were yelling at. It was a good plan, but we have short arms so there was no way we'd be able to reach that far. So Jean says, I'll just throw my shoe then.

And that is how it started. I said, "Okay. But let's wait until the concert is almost over." An hour later we re-evaluated the plan and realized that short of pretending to have a peg leg, if Jean threw her shoe she'd get caught because she would be the only person trying to leave with only one shoe on. She sat and mulled for a few minutes and then agreed that it was probably a good idea. Then she says, "Can I see your boot for a second? I just want to see what size it is."

The only thing that could possibly top that was our rendition of Smooth with air guitar. Santana wasn't there so the song didn't sound right, so we added the guitar noises ourselves. I'm actually surprised that we didn't create a riot with that...but RT fans are evidently mellow or on drugs.

The rest of the weekend was good. Rory made me laugh something wonderful. Hanging his head out the window of the freestyle he announced that he never wants to turn 19 again. And I don't blame him one bit.

Bitter Days

NB: Before you read this, remind yourself how much I love the goos. I am not in any way making fun of them. I just found their song a little too cheery for Hostile Wednesdays--so I rewrote it to suit my needs. It's supposed to be funny, not mean. Like your face.

And I’ll tell you what I want this year
And I’ll try and make it painfully clear
Just a chance that maybe you’ll have
Bitter days (like I dooooooo [a la Lisa Loeb, I saw her a goos concert so she’s in])
Because I don’t have any boxes
And I need some string
To hang myself and store my things
There’s no desire or love, only another bitter day.

So take these words
They are pretty worthless
When no body is forgiven now
Cuz tonight the night still won’t end again.

You find it sitting in your living room
When you’ve wrapped yourself in all that gloom
There’s not faith nor trust nor peace--there’s only doom.

And the one poor child that would save this world
Knows there’s ten million more who probably could
But won’t because no one believes in God any more (as if I doooo…[again a la Lisa Loeb])

So take these words
They are pretty worthless
When no body is forgiven now
Cuz tonight’s the night still won’t end again.

I wish everyone was loved tonight
But I hate them all out of spite
And it’s all because of all these bitter days

So take these words
They are pretty worthless
When no body is forgiven now
Cuz tonight’s the night still won’t end again.
And the morning may not ever come again.

Wasn't that fun? I will give you some of the real lyrics so that you understand why it's funny not mean. "And you ask me what I want this year, and I try to make this kind and clear: Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days. So take these words, and scream outloud, because everyone is forgiven now. Tonight's the night the world begins again...I wish everyone was loved tonight and somehow end this endless fight. Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days." You can hear it at www.googoodolls.com if you want to sing either version to make yourself feel better on Hostile Wednesday.

All the Things that I have Done

Andrea has me thinking in song lyrics again. Not that she usually makes me think in song lyrics, that she has this time and I am doing it again, in that I do it fairly often. Understand?

This is a picture of University College at sunset. It was the picture of the week posted by some Western expatriate (in that he transferred to U of T). I love to see pretty pictures of my school. I believe it makes the rest of the world jealous. People who visit don't understand why I go to a castle to learn about Modern Drama. There is this really pretty lecture hall in University College called Conron Hall with stained glass windows and everything. I was supposed to have a class in it first year but the prof didn't like the acoustics.

Here is a better picture of it in daylight. I guess it does look like a castle. Professor Zeitz tells me that from the steps you get a prospect view of the lower part of campus. I tell her that I don't know what that means, and she gives me a lecture on 18th-century gardens.

This is where we ended up instead. I know that the picture is pretty impressive, but Middlesex College Room 110 smells like sweaty socks.

I am showing you these pictures so that you can gain some insight into how I spend my days. You can't tell as much from the first picture, but in the second you can see the hill I walk up and down most days of the week. The first picture is important because I used it in my desktop publishing project, which (by the way) I'm almost finished. The last one is black and white. It is monochromatic. Like me. I will give you all the money in my top drawer if you can tell me what I might possibly mean by that.

For those of you that think I've been neglecting my blogging responsibilities and not bringing you the usual delights you are so used to, you should go see Andrea's blog http://ohtheblogness.blogspot.com and check out the comments. I've been busy.

Andrea and I are making a list of songs that don't make us cry (it is surprisingly long) and we're going to burn it onto a cd so we can sit around and listen to it while we drink daiquiris. If any of you have a burner you'd be willing to let us use for this purpose, please let me know.

The wounds inflicted by my rejection from English 298E are finally starting to heal. Actually, I barely know they're there because I have so much reading and writing to do that I don't have much time to think about it.

Ford apps came out today. I'm going to try to have mine in by Friday. My father is making sure I understand the importance of getting it in early. Jeff is still off school though, and I'm pretty sure he's not getting that lecture. Isn't it fun to be the least favourite?

Dennis was asking about the cost of leasing a Fusion this summer. He can't afford it but we worked out a plan. He can share mine with me and Jeff and Meaghan. I just think it would be truly wonderful to tell Meg that she can't use it because Dennis needs it in Barrie. And then I can be evil. Everything that ends with me being evil is worthwhile.

Check out the title of this American Lit paper I want to write: "Huckleberry Finn--Cross- Dresser: How Deceit Reveals the Truth about Gender Performance and Construction". I bet you can't wait. I know I can't.

That's all the news for now ladies and gents. Have a good evening and don't forget it's hostile Wednesday tomorrow. Bus drivers beware. Convert tonight.

257 Weeks

You could be waiting for a day that won't come. And you could be so much more than you've become. But I have found my feet 257 weeks, and you could be waiting for a day that won't come. And it's SO sad, you're so good and I'm so bad--but you won't see me wasting the best thing I've ever had. And it's such a shame that I can't tell you anything...

Some days, I love Nine Days. For those of you who are mathematically challenged, 257 weeks is just short of 5 years. So, let us make a list of things that you or I or the whole world may have been waiting close to 257 weeks to happen:

1. George W. Bush to say something remotely intelligent. Sorry, it's out of the way now. We can move on.
2. School to be out forever.
3. The snow to melt.
4. Your heart to melt that it might know the warmth I exude.
5. The end of the world.
6. The list of readings to get smaller.
7. The essays to at least stop piling up.

If you're waiting for these things, you could be waiting for a day that won't come. Maybe not. Sometimes it feels that way though. I am keen on short sentences. Today.

Well, you could be so much more than you've become. What could you be?

• Intuitive. That is Kennedy's contribution for the day. He says, "A tractor trailer tries to go under a bridge that is too low [IDIOT! says I]. It gets stuck. So all these engineers and other truck drivers and business people stuck in traffic stand around and try to figure out how to get the truck out from under the bridge. Finally, a little boy suggests they let the air out of the tires so that the truck will be low enough to move from under the bridge." Intuition...the fourth out of five aspects of creativity.
• Asleep. Being asleep always seems better than being awake. There is a pillow where you sleep...and dreams are more interesting than real life.
• Working on something important--like one of those many essays. But nooo, you're stuck in DTP trying to find something long enough to hang yourself with.
• Finishing my Gwynne Dyer book so that I can have it back. But only if you're Brendan.
• Rich. But then you wouldn't be very happy. Money can't buy happiness. I used to play a song like that on the piano. I hated it.

So, with all that...I suppose it's time for a life update.

I didn't get into the creative writing class next year. Nor did I make it onto the waiting list. They had a record of 110 submissionsm and only 24 made it. I was not in that 24 and never will be. That's okay though. Katrina has my reasoning for not even wanting to be in that stupid class all worked out. Western is too conservative, I believe, is the angle she takes.

I read 500 pages on the weekend. I am behind by 250 still. 67%. Ouch.

A male ponytail is actually called ponis. I kid you not. Kennedy told me. He never lies.

Shane is back on nights. Ew nights. That means that if I see him, he will be sleeping. And if I don't see him, he probably won't notice.

I'm supposed to go see Rob Thomas at Hamilton Place on Saturday. Shane is supposed to work. Nothing is fun alone. I plan on stealing Jean for my purposes.

And the most exciting news of the day...(this is a drum roll)...I found the sheet music for Better Days. Buy it for me. I will owe you my life.

...You won't hear me, still you endear me now.

Little Miss Fancy [No-] Pants

My favourite part of the weekend is that I don't have to go anywhere--and that means that pants are no longer mandatory.

So, I have some [un]exciting news. Jack, the head of the career counselling program at the SDC, asked me to fill a[n imaginary] position as the third [and therefore least important] career assistant coordinator next year. Alycia assures me [though I have no faith in her information] that this position is more lucrative than the one that I've been filling for the last two years. Fancy. I bet I'll have to wear pants and work harder.

The only thing that is preventing me from enthusiastically agreeing to take the position [other than my complete lack of ability to seem enthusiastic about anything] is that next year I will always be enrolled in at least four English courses, and one of them might be a thesis. So will I have time? Of course--I'm Little Miss Fancy [No-] Pants [who is evidently in some kind of love with square brackets].

Already the CA program has eaten away at much of my life. This week, I dedicated 7 of my hard-earned hours to teaching basic resume writing skills, interviewing potential candidates for next year and calming the fears of a bunch of first year MIT students. Stand in front of any group of people and try tell them a general arts degree has credibility in the real world with a straight face and then you and I can share the title of Little Miss Fancy [No-] Pants.

And it's official. I'm not allowed to express myself publicly after midnight for the rest of my life. But, in the coming weeks, you can look forward to a new type of weekly entry called "Jean and Wein: Random Midnight Thoughts." Also, I've lined up a featurette by Jean about Disgruntled Tuesdays. At this rate, there will be no days left worth getting out of bed for; and I'm certain you wouldn't have it any other way...

MARCH

Time to quit life or buckle down something fierce. Flip a coin to decide. Otherwise you're wasting precious time.

I'm going to have to dig deep for new material for this one. I am still laughing because I dug up last year's "manic March" post and I wrote it on exactly the same date. That means one thing: I'm in a rut. But it's March, and if I wasn't in a rut, I'd be abnormal. So, let's take a moment or two and applaud me for my normalcy. Thanks. That was really...great.

I thought my March was going to be alright, actually. I got back from reading week and thought, "Well, that was the worst break of my life. Things can only get better from here." I was very wrong. Really, very, quite, wrong. I must have forgotten that it is March.

But, I'm going to change things up a bit, just to keep you all on your toes. Today, (NB: it is Hostile Wednesday) I'm going to make you a list of all the things in the world that are wonderful. So you and I can have something to laugh about. Hopefully you can find something on my list that at least provides an opportunity for you to smile smugly at the shambles that my life is in.

Why I Love the World

1. It hates me. But at least it is consistent. So far, you may have noticed, there hasn't been a good month or even a really good day. At least not one worthy of note. So there, I love consistency.
2. The "I didn't start smoking party"--that I'm going to crash. Muahahaha.
3. Evil laughs.
4. There were people playing frisbee on the concrete beach yesterday afternoon. In shorts.
5. Derek told me that I should join them because I'm a dolt.
6. The word dolt.
7. November. Man, I'm hilarious. I still can't decide whether I hate November more than March. And I refuse to agree they're equally horrible.
8. College strike. The other half of the world is taking a break, from WHAT? At least I don't have to proof any papers on line sizing while this is going on.
9. Thin tipped pens. Half the fun is finding them.
10. My modern drama teacher is insane. Let us just make this point, I love insanity.
11. My lists. I have fifteen lists of things I'm supposed to remember every day.
12. My biggest obstacle: remembering where I left all my lists.
13. Irony and how my very existence hinges on finding it in new ways each and every day.
14. Redundancy. There is nothing better than repetitive repetition.
15. Last year's March blog. It was way better. But I'm trying not to be repetitive and redundant.
16. Not having to use London transit. This week Shane is here, and hopefully, it will just keep getting warmer so that soon I can walk to school again.
17. Sleep. Mostly because I always feel deprived of it. And don't it only seem to go...
18. Rory nicknamed Jean Slacks. Jean found out and wrote a song about it. They've never met but they have a song and I have nothing.
19. Mango flavoured rum.
20. Mudslide.
21. The fact that both are in my fridge.
22. Spring book sale. $3.99 for every book ever written I swear. Oh I could die happy now.
23. Goo Goo Dolls, of course. They are going to make my April better too by selling their CD finally.
24. Procrastination. It's so bad, but it feels so good.
25. Random visitors. March is my busiest month ever, but more people have said they'll come visit now than ever before.

See? Wasn't that positive and life-affirming? Isn't it good to be alive? You can say no. I would. But I bet you weren't expecting that. You know, if I could change anything I would change everything. But these bitter days shall remain. Happy Hostile Wednesday. Keep your chin up, the weekend of reading is closer than you think. Doesn't that sound like fun?