Jam's Blog

West Coast Chat Nut, Take Two

2009-03-29T07:23:00.002-02:30

I know I don't blog anymore. Yadda yadda. Here, have some nuts:

Bryce--: Hi
Me: Howdy.
Bryce--: You remember me?
Me: I do.
Bryce--: heh
Bryce--: I thought you're profile said you were moving here last time
Me: It didn't. I had said I was applying to do my MA at UBC for Fall 2010.
Bryce--: Oh
Bryce--: That didn't pan out
Bryce--: ?
Me: It's seventeen months away. I haven't applied yet.
Bryce--: Oh
Bryce--: I don't know how much advanced planning these things take really
Me: Ah okay. Well me coming in here isn't advanced planning per se. Just wandering.
Me: And I'll be applying in the fall semester.
Bryce--: I didn't mean that.
Bryce--: I meant I didn't know how much advanced planning was required to get into UBC
Me: Ah. I'll be applying in the fall.
Bryce--: lol
Bryce--: Hm.
Bryce--: I thought I'd take a shot at recovery here, but I'm sensing it's not really happening.
Bryce--: Oh well
Me: No need to recover. I'm working on an article for the paper so I'm preoccupied. I actually just came on gay.com to look at fonts.
Bryce--: Ok then
Me: You were also very rude to me last we spoke, so I don't really have much of a desire to recover.
Bryce--: LOL. Yup, never let it just close without that last cutting statement.
Bryce--: Nice turnaround. It's a classic really.
Me: I'm justifying myself. You said "oh well" as though I should jump to my feet and feel bad that I'm not making a recovery with a complete stranger.
Bryce--: You're really reading too much into it.
Me: Oh well.
Bryce--: Maybe the actual fact is that you taking the time to email me after our chat kind of impressed me.
Bryce--: I didn't feel like you did it just to get one last dig in. I mean, I'm not so sure now, but at the time it didn't.
Bryce--: It seemed like your motives might have been more benevolent and that was kind of impressive.
Me: I'm not trying to dig anything. I just feel like you're so angry and I have no idea why.
Bryce--: But then I'm always impressed by the wrong things.
Bryce--: I'm actually not.
Bryce--: You just caught me on an off night.
Bryce--: Or I caught you I guess
Me: Well you very much come across as grumpy and angry and I was nothing but talkative. You basically said I was going to be a bitchy drug addict and it's ridiculous to say the least.
Bryce--: Hm.
Bryce--: Well I was trying to kinda start anew here.
Bryce--: You're not really making it so easy
Bryce--: And I'm not really inclined to bend over backwards for it. I'm sure you've had an off night at some time in your life too.
Bryce--: So take it for what it is.
Me: I'm very sorry but I'm not interested in "reconciling" with someone I don't know who is still doing the same thing, on an apparent not-off-night. Have a good night.

And then I blocked him. I'm always up for a good fight with an idiot, but he's so ridiculous, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Anyway, blog is still here but I'm not coming back any time soon. School is over in three weeks and then I'm back to Toronto for four months. I got a job as the features editor with the school paper for the fall, so writing the blog is falling short on my list of priorities, sadly. Luckily, thanks to the magic of copious amounts of social networking online, I talk to most of you all the time. So, hooray for you!

--Jam

West Coast Chat Nut

2009-02-19T04:37:00.002-03:30

Bryce--: Hey how goes?
Bryce--: That's a pretty stellar profile you got there.
Bryce--: lol
Me: Hah, well thanks
Bryce--: Yah well we like a few of the same things.
Bryce--: Lost, eh?
Bryce--: Did you watch tonite?
Me: No, I'm a little behind. I have to catch up on this season.
Bryce--: OMG. It's so crazy, but I won't give it away
Bryce--: So what brings you to the Vancouver room?
Me: Haha yeah, please don't.
Bryce--: :O
Me: Just wandering, avoiding schoolwork.
Bryce--: Meh, this city ain't worth it.
Me: lol and why's that?
Bryce--: I almost wanna go chat in the St. John's room.
Me: It's awful.
Bryce--: Well if I tell you, I'm gonna sound bitter.
Me: And it's 4am here.
Bryce--: But Vancouver is probably the shallowest, coldest city ever.
Me: Haha well I might be living in Vancouver in a year. Why is it so shallow?
Bryce--: Dunno.
Bryce--: Just is.
Bryce--: I moved here 12 years ago from Calgary.
Bryce--: I think of going back a lot.
Bryce--: Or somewhere.
Me: Ah. I've never been out West.
Bryce--: Well
Bryce--: We have nice weather
Bryce--: Beaches
Bryce--: blah blah
Me: Haha
Bryce--: Ug I'm sorry to be such a downer, but just got burned again by another fraud.
Bryce--: Let's change the subject
Bryce--: I see you are a cat person
Bryce--: I have 2
Me: Another fraud
Bryce--: Oh what does that mean
Me: Well, yeah, I'm curious what you mean.
Bryce--: What?
Me: By another fraud.
Bryce--: Oh that was a question?
Me: Haha yes.
Bryce--: Oh no, just some guy that I met online and was (seemingly) getting on with splendidly.
Bryce--: We were supposed to have a date on the weekend.
Bryce--: I made the mistake of mentioning another guy I met on the same site.
Bryce--: Now I'm on ignore and he's chasing that guy
Bryce--: But he was supposedly so different, so not like every gay guy.
Me: Ah..
Bryce--: He almost had me convinced.
Bryce--: But then he was.
Bryce--: No bit surprise really
Bryce--: They say what they need to in order to get what's appealing at that moment.
Me: I suppose. It seems kind of odd.
Bryce--: It's just exhausting really
Bryce--: You keep thinking "woo, found someone different"
Bryce--: But then nope.
Bryce--: lol
Bryce--: That's Vancouver.
Bryce--: Ug, I'm sorry, I don't want to disillusion you.
Bryce--: Seriously how about a new topic.
Me: Uh, lol.
Me: Haha well anyway, the guy sounds like a loser anyway, so I wouldn't stress over it.
Bryce--: Well I'm not.
Bryce--: But it's just it happens so often here, it kinda gets discouraging
Bryce--: But whatever.
Bryce--: You have cats then?
Me: Yeah, a white maine coon named Sheba.
Bryce--: Cats are so underrated.
Bryce--: I mean I like dogs, but please.
Bryce--: lol
Me: Yeah--I love them. I don't really get dog people, lol.
Bryce--: I got two boys...Velcro and Eddie
Bryce--: Dogs are nice, but so much work...and not nearly as smart no matter what anyone says
Bryce--: I had a great dog for a while till he passed.
Me: No, dogs are smart, but cats are smart and choose not to do things, I think.
Bryce--: But when he got stuck in my room, his solution was to chew his way out. The cats just turn the fucking knob.
Bryce--: Seriously.
Bryce--: Well it's a handle knob, so they can
Bryce--: But the dog couldn't figure that out.
Bryce--: Cats reason. Dogs obey.
Me: Yeah exactly.
Me: Anyway bud, I have to get some sleep. Good luck with the city.
Bryce--: LOL
Bryce--: Wait a sec?
Bryce--: You are coming here?
Bryce--: For real?
Me: I might be if I do my MFA at UBC.
Bryce--: What's your name, bub?
Me: James.
Bryce--: My name's Rain.
Bryce--: Nice to meet you.
Me: Your name isn't Bryce?
Bryce--: No, I dunno why I picked that.
Bryce--: lol
Me: Yeah. ...
Bryce--: You got MSN, james?
Me: Yeah but I reserve that for people I know fairly well. Sorry.
Bryce--: OMG.
Bryce--: Yah you'll fit in well here.
Bryce--: You've got the bs down already.
Bryce--: I'm done. Just too tired to bother.
Bryce--: See ya.
Me: Haha, sorry. I just know that in a week we'll be down to awkward conversation, and I'm not moving to Vancouver until summer 2010.
Me: You need to calm down a little I think.
Bryce--: Well that's pessimistic and not surprising.
Bryce--: I suppose you realize if we are down to "awkward conversation" we can always delete each other then.
Bryce--: But if you are more comfortable with never even trying, then honestly I can't blame you.
Me: And I mean, you're mad at the city and all these guys, but your profile just makes you sound bitter. What guy wants to date a bitter, angry guy? I just don't really get it.
Bryce--: My level of effort is nearing zero as well.
Bryce--: Ah yes, don't miss an opportunity to insult me.
Bryce--: lol
Me: I'm not insulting you. You have put that into your profile.
Bryce--: I think it makes me sound realisitc and honest.
Me: Okay.
Bryce--: You are coming into it with rose colour glasses.
Me: I do have those glasses, yes.
Bryce--: I had them once.
Bryce--: I think I left them in Calgary.
Bryce--: But hey man, I don't want to spoil your very temporary party.
Bryce--: Enjoy.
Me: Well maybe you should go get them, lol.
Me: My temporary party? You're my temporary party?
Bryce--: Aw, if only it were that easy.
Bryce--: No
Bryce--: I'm not.
Bryce--: Vancouver is.
Me: Ah.
Bryce--: Haha.
Bryce--: One of two things will happen next.
Bryce--: Either you will see what I mean in 5 years or so. Or you'll adapt to this and beocome one of them.
Bryce--: Most people go for option 2.
Me: You are ridiculous.
Bryce--: I don't care for option 2.
Bryce--: Yah yah.
Bryce--: Ok
Me: Night night. Cheer up.
Bryce--: I'm wrong. I don't know what I'm talking about. lol
Me: Yes, everyone your age is either jaded or a bitch.
Bryce--: I can already see you are an option 2 guy.
Bryce--: G'nite.
Me: Night!
Bryce--: And thanks for another insult.
Me: You're welcome.
Bryce--: Warming up already
Me: Bye.

Liz, you're right. I should find a new hobby.

--Jam

Fish Nut

2009-02-18T07:32:00.002-03:30

Due to some probing by a friend, I've joined the ranks of Plenty of Fish, an interestingly low-budget dating site with copious amounts of idiots. There are a few gems mixed in, but not many around here, sad to say.

Anyway, it has this ridiculous chat feature that sends a window, accompanied by the sound of an accordion being sat on, that allows the other person to know you got the message and are there. Thus, you feel compelled to answer even if you don't want to.

A lovely man, 30, smoker, wants his first date to be at "Timmys" and wants to be "diskreet", messaged me today, and here is our conversation:

(I'm thatjam, if you couldn't figure that out.)

richard102: hi
richard102: hello
richard102: im newfie also
thatjam: I'm from Ontario originally so I'm actually not a newfie. I'm working on some stuff and am not interested. Have a good day!
richard102: whatever dude
richard102: LOSER
thatjam: lol wow.
richard102: yup
thatjam: So would you have rather I had not answered? I'm not interested in a smoker or someone who wants to be "diskreet" or someone who wants to start off at "Timmys". I wasn't impolite. What would you have liked me to have said, exactly?
richard102: thats ur choice what u do
richard102: im in toornto and ur in newfie so whats diff would it make!
thatjam: It doesn't. It's your choice to call someone a loser for being polite and honest. I just don't understand why you wouldn't say bye or close the window or something. I don't get why you'd be rude for no reason.
richard102: who cares
richard102: this is me
thatjam: Boy, well then I sure am sorry I passed you up. Good luck with dating.
richard102: u know newfies no holding back
richard102: u didnt interest me anyways
richard102: just was goin to chat before i go to work
thatjam: Newfies are polite and considerate. I don't know what you're talking about "no holding back". That's bull. Most of them that I've met are extremely nice.
richard102: i am in a 4 yr relationship
richard102: so am i when i want to b
thatjam: Oh good, so I'm glad your profile says dating.
richard102: exactly
richard102: alittle fun on the side
richard102: mm
thatjam: Right. Anyway have fun with that.
richard102: my bf is in bed sleep
richard102: i always do
thatjam: Thank goodness! Kay I'm leaving now. I just wanted to know why you were an ass and I got my answer. Ciao.
richard102: ciao 2 u 2
richard102: by the way my bf is spanish
thatjam: ...what does that have to do with anything?
richard102: nothing
richard102: u said ciao
richard102: anyways u have urself a wonderful day!
thatjam: Bye bye.
richard102: i better head off for work before im late
richard102: nnice talking to u
richard102: later

Seriously.

--Jam

Pass the Nuts

2009-02-03T07:06:00.003-03:30

Just a nut to fill your day. I'm totally developing an allergy to these ones. Enjoy!

boyseattle1269: hi
Me: Hey, how's it going?
boyseattle1269: good u
Me: Not bad thanks.
boyseattle1269: u single
Me: I believe my profile says I am, yep.
boyseattle1269: u want a ltr
Me: Hahaha uh, I do, in theory, but I don't know you.
(Then he stopped talking. SO weird. Oh, and an "ltr" is long-term relationship. Yes, I always just ask random people if they would like a long-term relationship. Totally normal.)

Also, I bitched out this guy in the "love and relationships" room (the things I do when I have insomnia just to see the whackjobs) because he was being a tard. I said "Who died and made you overlord of this realm?" to which he responded "Maybe you should." I then said "Oh, so I'm overlord now? Good. Then you're banished." and he left! Then all the people were happy and we had a running joke for a good hour about me being overlord and them being my vassals. I had to step down though because it was really boring in there. What a boring kingdom.

--Jam

PS: I'm still alive. Life is ridiculously busy, so I'm just trying to get through everything with all of my brain still intact. Blog will come. Give 'er time.

Craigslove

2009-01-18T18:25:00.001-03:30

Hey peeps.

Just a little snippet of what I do when I'm procrastinating. Click here.

Don't judge me! Ha!

--Jam

Your Call Has Been Dropped

2009-01-17T14:09:00.002-03:30

Hey. Quick update so you know I didn't die. Life has become insane lately. Six courses, possible job with Oxfam, and beginning to write articles for the school paper. Therefore, the new blog is on hold while I regroup. If I get this job with Oxfam, I'll most likely be designing their new website, therefore my site will be on hold for at least two months.

Don't forget me!

--Jam

Change of Pace

2009-01-04T15:40:00.002-03:30

Yesterday, a random posted on my anti-smoking rant that I posted years and years ago, saying that I wasn't worth time/life, or something ridiculous like that. Although the person is obviously a moron, he/she has a point.

I had been reading my older stuff recently and even though I'm fine with the content (with which this person seems to have a problem), the writing is just garbage. I spelled a word incorrectly, twice, two different ways. Needless to say, I'm not too happy with putting that stuff out there with my name attached, so Jam's Blog will be changing soon. I'm going to switch to another URL and start fresh.

Stay tuned, kiddies.

--Jam

Welcome Back, Self

2009-01-02T12:23:00.002-03:30

Well lookie there! It's me! Well, actually, if you can see me, then that's creepy, and I should shut my blinds. Quit stalking me, bloggers. Jeez.

Anyway, happy everything! Happy Christmas, Happy New Year, happy happy happy! My computer is finally back from the shop, monitor working and all, and although it can't hold a charge so I can never unplug it, I'm satisfied for now. I can see the world in binary wonder once again and oh, the 1s and 0s look fabulous this morning!

Although I have many long tangents that I'm sure I'll blog about in the near future (as my vacation was full of rants that I was unable to blog and torture you with), I'm going to talk about soberness for a moment. This New Year, though I drank more than I normally do, I didn't get drunk. I didn't even feel it. I know, I know--that sounds like some eighteen-year-old: "I've drank this much and I don't even feel it!" However, as a seasoned binge drinker, I know what to drink and how much. Two nights ago, I drank that much and more and simply didn't get drunk. (If someone could give me an explanation, that would be fantastic.)

Due to this, I went dancing sober. Now, I don't know about you, but I hate clubbing sober. People run into you, you dance like a stiff idiot, and everyone suddenly becomes more annoying. All of these things are happening while you're drunk, of course, but you don't notice them. Drinking puts lovely fuzzy windows over your eyes so when you see all these awful things, you just laugh and burp a little. Great fun, no? Well, needless to say, it was a strange experience to say the least, and I will not be soberly jumping into a sea of drunk people in a long time.

--Jam

To come: Boy tales, awful man, airportcapades.

PS: Jeez is a word. Wha? I leave the internet for a month and it goes to shiz.
PPS: Shiz is not a word. Thank Jebus.

Two Weeks Denied

2008-12-15T20:40:00.002-03:30

Short note:

So, I'm in the library, using one of these lovely computers in the computer commons, because my lappy broke down about two weeks ago.

I feel like a lost puppy. And oh-ho-boy, I could do a million rants on the crazies that hang out in the computer commons, but I'll save that for a time when they're not right beside me, screaming about the statue they want at their own funeral.

Pray for me.

Anyway, I'm going home Wednesday, so the blog will have December off.

Happy Hollydays!

--Jam

My Ulcer Says Hello

2008-12-03T10:31:00.002-03:30

Game Rules:

-----
1. Put your entire music player on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write down the song title no matter how silly it seems.
-----

If someone says "Is this okay?", what do you say?
Work.

What would best describe your personality?
The Fierce Battle. (Don't mess with me!)

What do you like in a guy?
Paper Bag.

How do you feel today?
Goodbye.

What is your motto?
Boyfriend. (Seems like it lately.)

What do your friends think of you?
A Really Good Cloak.

What do you think about often?
Last Christmas. (I do?)

What is two plus two?
With Every Heartbeat.

What do you think of your best friend?
Music.

What do you think of the person you like?
Ice Castle. (Hahaha. Too appropriate for words.)

What is your life story?
Move in my Direction.

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Let's Hear It for the Boy!

What does through your head when you see the person you like?
Mama's Room. (Uh.)

What do your parents think of you?
Fanfare.

What will they play at your funeral?
Me & You.

What is your biggest secret?
Toxic. (Yep. I'm poisonous.)

What do you think of your friends?
Euphoria. (Aw.)

What's the worst thing that could happen?
Powerless.

How will you die?
In the Flower Garden. (A bee! I used to pretend I was allergic to bees.)

What is the one thing you regret?
Love's Divine.

What makes you laugh?
El Salvador. (Such a funny country.)

What makes you cry?
Walk Away.

Will you ever get married?
Rock DJ. (Totally my wedding.)

Does anyone like you?
We Will Still Need a Song. (Is that a yes?)

If you could go back in time, what would you change?
Rain. (Yep, I'd bring an umbrella.)

What hurts right now?
Days Go By.

--Jam

The Towel

2008-11-30T11:49:00.002-03:30

Caution! The following blog may be emo and/or angry, depending on what my fingers dictate. Read at your own risk.

So, I think I've endured a pretty crappy autumn when it comes to men. I liked a guy for a long while only to be given the "friend" card. Now I'm perfectly happy with this card (probably more so than any other card) but at the time, it seemed anything-but-perfect. Following him was mister rotten fruit whom I liked but was given a similar card, basically due to the fact that he's mental and doesn't really know what he wants (or so I've come to conclude to make myself feel better about the situation).

All-in-all, it has been a lot of stress with no result. No romance whatsoever for three months has led to a boring existence, to say the least.

Recently I've mentioned a boy in Toronto whom I was going to visit this Christmas while home for the holidays. It turns out he's from the same city I am, which is always fun to talk about how quickly we got out. We've talked on the phone, on webcam, done the whole e-date thing a dozen times. Things were looking to be interesting come the middle of this month.

Well folks, if you haven't guessed, the grass is not greener on the other side.

I hadn't heard from him in about three days and had sent him a text message after one with no response, so I texted him again. Here's our correspondence:

Me: Hey. Are you still alive or what? lol. (Yes, I text using proper grammar. So sue me.)

Him: Haha i am lol it's been an interesting few days with life

Me: Ah. You'll have to tell me about it when you get the chance.

Him: I will i don't think your gonna like it tho :( my ex wants to get back together

Me: I thought it was something like that. You do what's right for you.

Him: Thanks buddy

So, right now, since I haven't talked to him directly in four or five days, I'm going to assume that things are going swimmingly with him and his ex. Aw. How nice.

And here, ladies and gentlemen, is where I throw in the towel. The stinky, overused, underwashed, ripped-and-torn, metaphorical towel. Something in me just clicked or broke. Probably broke. I just don't feel optimistic about love anymore. That said, I don't doubt that I'll have relationships in the future and whatever, but something in me just shrugs at the thought. It's just ridiculous that I should put myself through these useless tribulations when I can just be single and not care. I've dated profusely in the last five years and that is plenty for now.

Even though this guy is back home, over a thousand miles away, I had a small hope that we would hit it off anyway. And, don't get me wrong, it's not that I want him to be unhappy. If he's happy with his ex, then great. My problem with this is just that when do I get to be happy? My longest relationship was with someone that was wrong for me from the get-go, and that still lies at six months. When do I get this chance? My friends are getting married and I'm the single crazy one.

Anyway, before I get going on the whys of life, I'll stop. I'm just saddened because I really do feel different inside. Hopefully the next guy I meet likes a jaded prick.

--Jam

The Newspaper Void

2008-11-27T11:47:00.004-03:30

Mornin', ya'll.

I'm currently in the library, yawning my brain off, sort of writing an essay, but not really accomplishing much. It was due two days ago and I'm sure won't be done today. (Hooray, productivity!)

It's such a lame topic. Find six news articles on youth (I'm assuming on the same topic) and show how they're being compared to certain sociological theories. For two-thousand words. 2000.

How is that even possible? Newspaper articles are thin pieces of "facts". How am I supposed to stretch them out to make ten pages? The real question should actually be why am I stretching it out to make ten pages. I mean, I don't mind writing essays. If I'm analyzing literature, if I'm actually conveying something. Anything. This essay is just so ridiculous. It's like one of those assignments you get when you're in high school where you have to cut out articles from the paper and then glue them to bristol board and write little blurbs about why they're important.

Except using 1800 more words.

Anyway, this is a bitter rant because I don't feel like doing my assignment. I'm gonna whip some crap together, throw in as much jargon as I can, and pray for a B.

Oh, university. You're teaching me so much about nothing.

And now, a bite-size roommate rant: Yesterday morning, my roommate had a 26-minute shower, and was in the bathroom for a total of one hour, fifteen minutes. WHY? He had a shower and then was in the bathroom for an extra fifty minutes. This disproves the masturbation theory, unless he showers and then does it, which would be insane.

Today, he rushes into the bathroom around nine, slams the door, locks it, and then begins... cutting his nails. He had to dash in there to cut his nails. Nail emergency, you see.

ALSO, why do people insist on coming into the library and sitting in the cubicles where there is no noise and then rip apart eighty clementines and eat them, or turn their music up to MAX in their own ears so I can hear "Womanizer, womanizer, oh" ever-so-clearly while the person whisper-sings along to it. "Uh, hello, Britney fan? I can still hear you shutthefuckupohmygod." And now, in the cubicle in front of me, a girl is shaking a box of cookies. Or at least it sounds like a box of cookies. WHATAREYOUDOINGAAAAAH.

UGH.

--Disgruntled Jam

Gurgle Ouch

2008-11-25T12:04:00.001-03:30

That's the feeling I'm getting from my tummy and I have no idea why.

I got nothin' today, but my blog looked bare, so I thought I'd fill it with this text going absolutely nowhere.

The End!

--Jam

PS: I still didn't find out who wrote that. *shakes fist wildly in the air*

Specs

2008-11-21T03:40:00.003-03:30

So today I signed into my Facebook, as I do about twenty times a day (self-admitted addict), around 11:30pm. One notification: You have a new Honesty Box message.

Ooh.

For those of you who don't know, Honesty Box is an application on Facebook that allows a person to message another without leaving an identity--being honest, yet anonymous. Normally, these messages are from boys who are too shy to say anything in person, or a friend telling you how much they love you while leaving mini-hints about their identity. (I do that all the time.) This time, however, I received this:

"I really wish you'd stop living in an altruistic dream world and step into the harsh light of reality."

Pardon? Well, first of all, I had to look up altruistic as I hadn't heard it in years. It means to put others above oneself to the point of being detrimental to the generous individual. Now, I think I'm generous and giving and definitely put others ahead of myself, but I really don't think I'm that far south. I do enjoy myself and have an ego in there too, but I digress.

Facebook tells me it's a guy, so that narrows it down somewhat. I had thought of some female friends immediately, but this obviously removes them from the list of suspects. I called/messaged some friends to try to get some opinions on who it could be with little avail.

Shortly after, I talked to a friend of mine back home, an ex, that was very frank in telling me that anyone who knows me well could have said this; that I wear rose-coloured glasses. Hm. Well, if altruistic was meant to be used in that context, which doesn't make much sense but I can see a small connection, then what would compel someone to randomly send me a message telling me to be more realistic? Why wouldn't that person just talk to me to my face? It angers me, actually, because whoever this person is obviously sees life in a jaded fashion if they think it's shown in a "harsh light of reality." Because I see life in an optimistic way, I should change that simply because other people are grouchy and pessimistic?

Fuck. That.

Is my life perfect? Hell no. Am I going to get every last thing I want out of life? Hell yes. If I choose to be ambitious with unattainable aspirations, that is my prerogative, but at least I have goals and a mind of my own. If I didn't listen to my heart, I would be miserable in a business school somewhere, or miserable counting money for people who don't appreciate it. This is my life and I choose to live it the way I please. I am damn happy with the way I turned out and if my surreal attitudes are bothering you, please let me know, because I'd hate for you to have to send me another "anonymous" message.

--Jam

Poemtree

2008-11-20T06:00:00.000-03:30

Normally if I have a poem to share, I'll post it over on Jam's Novel Idea, however this poem was not written by me, so I will be sharing it on here. It is definitely one of my favourite pieces, if not the favourite, that I have ever read. Enjoy!

---

"That Time of Year"
by Anne Compton

The day was night and lasted half a week.

Dawn was in the details: each branch a charcoal stroke
against the grey.

Cloud cover pulled so low, its flange was pinned to hills,
the distant dulse-coloured hills.

Leaves thickening up the overcast: a second sky
beneath the scudless murk.

Two waking days and then the mass: hymns at heaven's gate
if you're hopeful.

Outside the funeral parlour, a patchy fog suspended
among the trees

hanging out with the smokers -- watchers on a break
whose talk is weather
and what the lack of light portends. The calm of it.

We're near enough the end to know
perfection of the mood's a paradox.

Among the smokers though
there's one for whom the day's a canvas.

He said the purple of the hills was mile-off rain with shining
in it, and how lovely that was when it happened.

In every score or so, God sends a watcher
whose eyes are not as others are.

They are the ones the light shines through.

---

That's from the collection processional if you like it. The rest of the works are great as well, but I thought this one was especially moving. Anyway, enjoy your day, and make sure the light shines through!

--Jam

This Sucksubus

2008-11-19T23:54:00.002-03:30

It occurred to me earlier today who the guy driving the SUV was, in the dream from yesterday's post. It sort of popped into my head as I was getting my hair cut. (It looks totally cute, just so you know.)

I hadn't thought about him in a long time, maybe even a year. I had just accepted he was gone, I guess. He's with another guy, we're not together and haven't seen one another in about four years. I can't believe it still hurts to think about him. I guess that means it'll never really go away. I'm actually kind of dreading the day I actually do see him again. We're from the same town, so I suppose anything is possible. However, if I were to bump into him at Christmas, I'd probably throw up nog and yuletide joy all over the place.

I really like his boyfriend as a person, so I feel bad keeping feelings for this guy tucked away in me somewhere, but I guess I feel like I can't let them go. Maybe some feelings stay forever, tucked away for dreams of a life I can never have.

Hopefully someday I'll get my knight in shining SUV.

--Jam

Angelic Incubus

2008-11-18T03:11:00.004-03:30

Mornin'. (It's past 3am. I'm allowed to say that.)

I'm up essaying. I don't know why I always leave some essays to the last minute. It must be a right of passage in university. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

I fell asleep earlier this afternoon and had a very vivid dream. Here's the gist of it:

The curtain parts and blinding lights flash, illuminating my entire body. As my eyes adjust, I see a stage, followed by thousands of people. My ears follow and the cheers are overwhelming. My eyes start to water, my smile widens, and I step further into the light. The band starts and I begin to sing, much better than I would have ever imagined, and the crowd is going crazy. The song finishes, I bow, extraordinarily happy, beaming actually. Now, skip ahead to after the show where my fans are waiting to get me to sign a copy of my first book. (If only I could have remembered the title, we'd be one step closer to this wonderful dream.) I sign quickly, smiling and thanking them, and eventually exit the building to enter a large sport utility vehicle, for whatever reason. I enter into the passenger seat as my adoring and gorgeous husband has come to pick me up. We exchange a kiss and he says "good show" to which I respond "thanks. The Sprout for dinner?" (The Sprout is a restaurant here in St. John's. Why on Earth we're still in St. John's is beyond me.) I smile again as we drive off, followed by something like a moose chasing us. It's a dream, what more do you want?

Anyway, I think the dream is using my overactive ambition and imagination to create this ideal scenario that I will never live up to. I have to focus on the now; keep my goals in mind, of course, but I'm having a problem lately with really looking at the whole picture as of today. Therefore, back to my essay.

(Damn, I wish I got that guy's number. If only he was driving an Aveo.)

--Jam

PS: Essaying is a word. Weird.
PPS: Wall-E comes out today! Oh. My. Jebus.
PPPS: Listen to "Run" by Leona Lewis. Here.
PPPPS: I realize an incubus is supposed to haunt women and I'm supposed to get a succubus. Somehow, the gay factor seems to make me think that I'd get an incubus. Well, let's hope at least.

The Overall Lifeness of It All

2008-11-14T17:53:00.003-03:30

Wassaaaaaaap.

Boy, don't you miss those commercials? No, me neither.

Have you ever had one of those weeks, one of those horrible weeks, where everything just seems so difficult? The normal suddenly transforms into a struggle and you just need to try your hardest to stay about water.

I'm having one of those weeks.

First off, I finally deleted that grouch from MSN and Facebook. I decided I'm not going to post a full story about him, but merely the cliff notes.

1. Met online.
2. He broke up with his boyfriend. By email. (Well hello there, big red flag!)
3. Spent weekend together, both nights with one another. No sex. Perfect cuddling.
4. Talked on Monday. He said he had feelings for ex. When I questioned it, he said we should just be friends.
5. Off-and-on chatting. Not-so-nice discussions.
6. Delete.

He wrote me once he realized I had deleted him and wished me well. He's one of those people who thinks they are always in the right, so I'm sure he doesn't see this as him leading me on at all. Anyway, he's best left alone, I think.

I'm trying to go home for Christmas, but alas, funds don't do as far as they used to. I want to go home for the holiday more than anything, so I asked my lovely father if he would pay for it. I feel like I'm selling my soul to the devil, but I guess if it gets me home, then devil me up, baby!

I've also bombed at NaNoWriMo for the fourth time in a row, however I think I've got the best story idea this year thus far, so I can see myself plugging away at it over the next six months-or-so.

Yeah. Well that was horribly boring. Sorry folks. To make up for it, picture me telling a joke. That should be entertaining.

--Jam's got nothin'

Other than that, things are just trucking along. Tons upon tons of work to do this weekend. Let's see if I can get it all done.

E-Talk Daily

2008-11-12T00:27:00.002-03:30

As much as the title days daily, it's more like twice-weekly, just for the record.

Every now and again, I go on gay.com to chat with idiots. I'm not looking for idiots, mind you, but they seem to find me, like the flu or tequila. I chatted to a guy last night who was, just, wow. I forgot to copy the conversation for all of you to read (sorry) but he would talk a little, in broken dumbass English, about nothing and then about how hot I am, followed by a smiley face with its tongue sticking out. It went on and on.

*reenactment of chat nut, take one million*
Jam: So what do you do?
Guy: i work u?
Jam: I'm doing my degree at Memorial in English.
Guy: ur so hot omg.
Jam: Thanks.
Guy: :P
(Jam: ...)
Jam: So what do you do for work?
Guy: i work at convergys
(that's a call centre, for those of you who don't know)
Jam: Ah, and what do you want to do post-Convergys?
Guy: get the fuck out lol
Jam: Okay.
Guy: mm ur hot
Jam: Um, thanks.
Guy: :P
Jam: Well, I think I'm going to head to bed now.
(total lie--I just need to stop talking to him or my brain will explode.)
Guy: me 2 but i have to take care of somethin first lol
Guy: :P
(Jam: ...oh lord.)
Guy: do u have msn?

Ugh.

Anyway, to turn things around, I met a fantastic guy online yesterday as well. He's hot, he's 22 (enough of these twenty-year-olds. Eh? Eh?), he's finishing a degree in fine arts, and he's completely monogamous. He also likes Pokémon and makes dance routines with his friends before he goes to a club and then does them during the song.

He's as geeky as me! Like, holy god, marry me and have my babies.

Anyway, the problem is he's in Toronto. Yeah. Now that I've moved away from Toronto, I meet a great guy in Toronto. Super.

Life is taunting me. I'll get you Life, and your little dog too!

Er, something.

The end!

--Jam

Me and Bill

2008-11-10T02:50:00.003-03:30

Bill Maher used the word "idiocracy" on his show on Friday.

I used the word in 2005 on my blog in this post.

We're BFFs.

(Real posts coming soon, I'm sure. Life's gettin' in the way of everythin'.)

--Jam'

Discovery Channel

2008-11-06T11:48:00.002-03:30

Howdy, ya'll!

I'm having those pregnant woman cravings again. I know I posted about them before. (Maybe my new blogstalker could look that up for me? That would be super.) The other day, I would have killed a squirrel for cotton candy. Well, maybe not a squirrel. They're cute. How about... a gecko or something. Actually, why don't we not kill anything. (Wow. Tangent.) Anywho, now I want those mustard pickles. Those of you on the mainland have probably not had them. Basically, it's pickles, in a jar, with mustard. It sounds gross (and looks even worse) but omy, it's fantastic.

Well, this is turning out to be a riveting blog. What else can I write about? Hm.

I feel ridiculous about this boy situation. This guy I like now is just a dick. Plain and simple. The problem is, however, I have fallen for the guy I spent time with in person. Online, he's just cold and strange. I think I'm obsessing over him simply because I have no one else to obsess over, if that makes sense. There's just something wrong with the men in this city. I dated non-stop when I was in Toronto, and a lot of them were great, great guys. Double great. Here, it seems like the genetic cesspool is too small to get past a handful of personalities in hundreds of gay men. It's perplexing to say the least. Anyway, I haven't talked to jerk in a couple days, so I assume things have halted. Probably for the best, but still boring for the overall lifeness of it all.

Ha ha, "the overall lifeness of it all"? Wow. I think I need cotton candy to wake me up.

My roommate is getting weirder. I was in the dining room/kitchen with Lilly eating pasta yesterday and he just came in and started slowly scrubbing this pan while looking off into the distance. He's probably planning how he's going to manage to murder me in my sleep and get away with it. Don't worry, psycho roommate. I don't have too many obligations so no one should notice I'm missing too quickly. Maybe you can just use that pan that you're scrubbing a hole into the bottom of and that would just be dandy.

I'm taking two writing courses next semester. Advanced poetry and writing with pictures. What kind of pictures I'll be making, I have no idea. Maybe I'll pretend I know what I'm doing and use pastels or something. Yes. That should suffice.

How is there an advanced poetry? Shouldn't it just be called second poetry or something? Nope, this poetry is ADVANCED. *cue dramatic piano*

This blog is going nowhere far too fast. So I'm going to go. Right now.

--Jam

Song of the week: Untouched by The Veronicas. Here.

Grave-digging

2008-11-04T09:03:00.003-03:30

My roommate has a death wish.

1. 20-minute shower again this morning. I got about one minute of hot water and boy, am I getting good at washing fast. Not a skill I thought I'd have to acquire.

2. My laundry that I began late last night is on the table this morning. HOW? I put it in the dryer at midnight, and this morning, at 8.30am, it's on the table. WHY? That means he put an entire load of laundry through in his sleep? He must have gotten up very early and did an entire load of laundry, even though he did two loads this past weekend. That being said, if he was up bright and early to laundrify, why wouldn't he have a shower at 5am so that I would have hot water by 8?

3. The kitchen is a disgusting state. There are about five dirty pans and over twenty gross dishes just rotting on the counter. Tons of food is lying about, including eggs. Yes. Eggs. On the counter.

...EGGS GO BAD!

--Jam is freaking out

Out, Damn Fruit!

2008-11-04T00:25:00.002-03:30

I can't stop thinking about him.

I am going to absolutely, positively lose my mind. Poof. Gone. Mind gone.

The thing is, I don't understand why I'm obsessing like this. Really, he has been a jerk lately, and we still haven't met for coffee since he told me he still had feelings for his ex. Blah, blah, blah.

Sorry, I know the whole story has not been posted up here, so this must all sound confusing. Half of me is just saying that this is not worth posting about because the guy is a dink. The other half is saying that he's confused and there is something there.

Boys are dumb.

--Jam is grumpy

Musicgasm

2008-10-30T11:51:00.002-02:30

Okay. I know I already posted today, but something happened.

I found Duffy.

Duffy is a Welsh artist, born the same year as me, and has a fantastic voice. She's best known for Mercy, a soulful song that has been compared to Amy Winehouse. I had heard it in clubs, but never really made any sort of connection.

Then I saw Rain on Your Parade.

Go watch.

In about two hours, I have developed a huge music obsession with both this song and with her. I listened to it for a good hour on Youtube, repeating it over and over, belting it out as I made bagels and tidied my room. I then looked for the mp3 on Limewire, only to find silly radio edits. So, being as obsessed as I (already) am, I converted the Youtube video to mp3. I had never done it before, but I learned, as I wanted it that badly.

Now, my friends will tell you that I seem to have somewhat of an obsessive personality. Heather can tell you how many times I listened to Oh My Gosh by Basement Jaxx. Lilly could easily point out my obsession with Feedback by Janet.

I don't think they compare to this. My computer might overheat.

What a way to go.

--Jam

One Hour

2008-10-30T09:14:00.003-02:30

My roommate has been in the bathroom for an hour. The shower was on for twenty-two minutes, therefore I will, again, have a luke warm shower this morning.

What is he doing in there? He's a straight male with no hair. Seriously.

So weird.

--Jam

PS: Sorry I haven't had time to post a real blog lately. School is eating my life.

EDIT: Cold. The water was cold. And the floor was soaked, even though we have a bath mat that I so graciously bought for the bathroom. He left the house as I was getting out of the shower because he knew I was going to freak. People are going to drive me nuts, my dear peeps. Nuts, nuts, oh how nuts.

Snap

2008-10-28T23:59:00.001-02:30

My favourite necklace just broke. All the beads are all over my floor.

...I think I'm ready for bed now.

--Jam

A Small Vow

2008-10-28T01:47:00.003-02:30

Anyone and everyone can bring this up if I ever, from this moment forward, retract my intentions from the following statement.

I promise that I will never act as though I care for and/or love someone and then intentionally or otherwise hurt them in a way that can make them question whether that emotion actually exists.

I have been hurt too many times by family and lovers to allow myself to become the same. I don't know how to stop it from happening to me, however I vow to never grow into that type of a person who can treat others in such a horrific manner.

That's it for today folks. We seem to be on a low note today. I'll try to raise 'er up soon.

--Jam

On the Eastern Front

2008-10-26T22:02:00.002-02:30

In response to last post:

1. I don't think Rob noticed he was on the blog. We'll have to nudge him slightly with a sharp object.

2. I'm in total and complete love with my room. Still.

3. He's fantastic. Absolutely 100% fantastic. Like whoa.

4. Still.

5. Can't believe it.

I totally didn't feel like posting today, but I have to keep posting or I'll stop altogether like before, and that would just be no good. No good at all.

...is anyone out there?

--Jam

The Insomnia Fairy

2008-10-24T03:05:00.002-02:30

Yo dawgs and dawgettes.

So, I've had this insane insomnia the last week. I hardly ever get insomnia because of my sleepy-fatigue-thing, so when I get it, it lasts a day, followed by lengthy sleep the next day. This time, it's lasted from Sunday night and it just won't go away. Today I even got up earlier than I needed to, kept busy all day, and now it's 3am and I'm still awake. Why? So weird.

Anyway, some random stuff about anything:

1. This is a big hey-there-shout-out to Rob. He's been bugging me for months to put him on the blog, so there you have it. Rob has been blogged. I'm sure he won't like this, but there is a picture of the two of us at the bottom of this blog. (He'll never ask to be put into my blog again!)

2. I finished the furniture part of my room today! My friend Jason sold me his huge TV, entertainment unit, and desk, so my little bedroom-cum-apartment is looking fantastic. Now to just make a few little pictures to stick to the walls and I'm all set.

3. I have a date on Saturday. Different guy than my rantings, and this one seems great too. Met online (ugh) but I'm trying to overlook that weird factor. I actually met him in a class over a year ago (which we only recently discovered), so technically, we met in real life. Take that, plenty of fish! Anyway, he's very adorable and smart and flirty. I like flirty guys.

4. My room looks amazing. Oh wait, I already said that.

5. Flirty is not a word. The more you know.

Yeah, I got nothin'.

--Jam

Building an Empire

2008-10-22T04:03:00.003-02:30

Wouldn't it be cool if you could just use all your strengths to have one big "go" at the world? In an ideal world, I'd love to be able to be successful in so many creative outlets.

Of course, writing would be at the forefront. I'd love to have a series of adult fantasy novels, and some independent religious satires. I want to have a column in a well-known magazine, documenting travel or opinion, or both. I want to be a person that is respected but not overwhelming in the literary world.

I already compose music, so wouldn't it be great to have a reputation as an innovative ambient-electronica artist? I'd love to have a small niche market, having songs pop-up behind fun moments in film or classic runway walks. None of the glamour of mainstream music, a tiny portion of the income, but all the fun and satisfaction of contributing to the musical world.

As a person with an eye for fashion, I'd die if I could create beautiful clothes for beautiful people. My love for garments and fabrics is something that needs to be explored. If only as a hobby, I'd love to present at least one runway show in my life, and see my girls wearing something that I carefully crafted just for them.

It all seems ridiculous, but why not dream the big dream? Right now, I'll just focus on my degree and be a good, down-to-earth boy, but maybe I'll take a sewing class this summer, buy a canvas or two and fool around, and work on the score to my friend's independent film.

I can't get anywhere if I don't have goals, and I can't reach those goals if I don't try. So let's get started, shall we?

--Jam

PS: I think I want to change my last name. If I had a husband (with a good last name), I could just add "Mc" and I'd be all set. Now, where did I leave him?

The Shower Detective

2008-10-20T12:08:00.003-02:30

My faucet is missing.

I woke up this morning and the faucet to the shower is just gone. I can't turn on the water, therefore I can't shower, therefore I'm as grumpy as an itchy rhino.

Why is it not there? It's just nowhere. I looked everywhere except my roommates' rooms, so technically, it either has to be there, or someone took it out of the house for some reason.

I'm holding it in, but I'm actually screaming inside. Pray for me.

Actually, scratch that. Pray for my roommates, and then pray for me, because I'm going to be put in jail for going on a frantic killing spree with sharp objects.

*sigh* That is all.

--Jam

Twenty

2008-10-14T22:30:00.002-02:30

When I was twenty, what I was like?

It was only four years ago, but it feels like a lifetime. I was a decent dresser but my jeans weren't nearly tight enough. I definitely didn't flaunt it like I owned it, even though I did. I dated lots of different guys, some much better than others. I went through a severe blow when I dropped out of school and had to reorganize my life completely. I started my first adult job, which I quickly abandoned. Overall, I was a confused person. Though I loved life, I was really in a time of self-discovery and of learning what the world was really like.

Four years later, and now I've fallen for a guy who is, fairly newly, 20. We have become so close, it's sick really. If I envision myself with anyone, it would most likely be him. The traits he holds fit into this nice little box that I can picture, and aside from that, he's amazing. Like, yeah, amazing. So, I talked to him about my feelings, came all clean, and he said he's not ready for a serious relationship. He knows that him and I would work on a serious level, but of course, he doesn't want that yet, both because he wants to experience dating other people and doesn't want to lose what we have.

I totally get it. I completely understand. However, I am so frustrated.

What do you do when you meet a person (I never say "the" person because I don't know if I believe that to be true) who you could be with, for such a long time, and be perfectly happy, and you can't have them?

Now, we'll stay friends, go about everything the way it was, but I'll probably never completely stop feeling that for him.

I feel like Urkel.

--Jamurkel

The Broken Window to the Soul

2008-10-09T15:32:00.002-02:30

I hear dreams are the window to the soul. Or is that the eyes?

Well, for the purpose of this post, we're saying dreams. Dreams should be--they reflect emotions, events, people--everything I'm stressing about or neglecting.

As of late, I've been stressing over: boy, that awful essay, my missing peas, my procrastination, money.

The dream I had last night:

I'm sitting on a brick wall at the end of a cliff, overlooking the forest and apparently town down below. Boy is to my right, my mom is to my left. I lean over to kiss said boy, but then realize that my mom might notice (I would imagine so since we're in the middle of nowhere, sitting next to one another.) so instead, I scream out "The Great Wall of China!" My mom is like "I know you're trying to hide it with the Great Wall, but it's not going to work," and then I start to cry or something. Then my mom is suddenly my English prof and she's like "he's a young man" and I can't argue because I'm sitting next to boy and I'm like "oh, he is." I don't remember much after this, just being frustrated with myself for not realizing that boy is young (even though he's not the guy in the poem, obviously.). I woke up shortly after with a huge craving for peas.

If that's not a window, I don't know what is. Well, besides actual windows. I suppose those are windows too.

--Jam

Implosion of the Brain

2008-10-07T16:01:00.003-02:30

1. I got a 55 on an in-class essay. It's worth 10%, and I got 55. Five, five. Seriously. I'm fuming because the essay was based around choosing two poems by Atwood and comparing and contrasting them relative to different themes. The theme I chose was time. We received these topics ahead of time and time happened to fit into two poems I wanted to analyze. I prepared, I studied, the end.

The end, indeed. She said that I tried to force them together for the purpose of the assignment, that one of the poems didn't have to do with time. She said the one poem is about a young man.

Now, although you don't know the poem, I shall tell you a key element about said poem. There is no age given. He reflects on a past love, he is crippled, he yearns to be able-bodied again. To ME, that sounds like an elderly man, therefore it is completely subjective. It's not fair for me to receive a bad mark simply because she doesn't agree with me. No. NO NO NO.

2. In my rage, I can't remember what I was going to say, so I'll ramble about my frustration with boy instead. He's so confusing! I'm still terrified to tell him or come on to him or any crap, but at the same time, I am going out of my mind therefore I have to tell him. But then what if he goes home for Thanksgiving? Then I have to wait another week. Then I have to gooutofmymindandjumpoffmyfreakingroof!

3. Someone threw out my peas. Why? I wanted peas. Now they are gone.

I want my freaking peas!

Totally drinking tonight.

This has been yet another useless rant with too much italicized text.

--Jam

Procrastination Station

2008-10-06T11:34:00.002-02:30

How do I manage to keep putting things off? Every now and then, I'll do a bit of work, and then when I have to do something or fail, I crunch it out and become exhausted for a week. I think this is the student norm, but I wish I could be more studious sometimes.

My mom keeps calling and saying "get in those books, mla mla mla" and as much as I ignore it, I really should be reading a lot more than I am, or so I think. I just can't help but let my mind wander. While reading, I drift to my crush, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Sarah Palin, the crumbs on the counter, my laundry, my cake, the Green Party--and the list goes on.

Does anyone have any ideas on how to combat procrastination?

Is anyone still here? Hello? Hello? Bueler?

--Jam

Birthday Wishes

2008-10-05T19:11:00.002-02:30

I would be greedy if I were to ask for anything more than what I have right now. My party last night was a complete success. I have such amazing friends--the right people in my life right now--and it made for a hilarious evening.

Thank you to everyone and happy my birthday to you, from the bottom of my hungover heart.

--Jam

All the Pretty Horses Things

2008-10-04T16:41:00.004-02:30

Today is quite a day. Didn't you know? It's the day before my birthday!

Okay, okay, you can stop cheering now.

I can't believe it's been twenty-four years since I jumped out of my mom six weeks early. (I say jumped out because I'm feisty, obviously.) I would have never thought, as a child, in my early years, that this is where I would be, sitting at a dining room table in a small house in St. John's, Newfoundland, working on my undergraduate degree, fawning over a guy who probably won't have me, with so many good friends, I can't even count them. I wouldn't have imagined I'd have dated both a hairstylist and two Ph.D students. I wouldn't have even thought that I would be gay, I suppose. I couldn't have dreamed I'd be in this much debt, and wouldn't have thought I'd be willing to get into this much debt to accomplish so much.

It's an interesting day, today. A day of reflection, and soon to be, a day of homemade memories. A day of gifts, a day of drinking, and probably, a night of throwing up. (We'll hope not, but alas, I know myself too well.) A day of looking fabulous around friends, who of course, also look fabulous. (I only make friends like that, obviously.) Hopefully a day of new beginnings. A day of happiness and a day to enjoy everything I have; everything that I'm grateful to be able to enjoy.

I love spending my birthday with all the people that mean something to me, and although there are five girls in particular back home that I'd love to have here with me, along with hordes of friends (I'm modest), I'm humbled that I have a group of friends here who care about me and who are coming to celebrate everything I've come to embody. I love sharing my day with everyone else, so happy my birthday everyone!

Happy my birthday to you.

--Jam

You're Not a Person

2008-10-02T01:00:00.002-02:30

I don't really understand the sermon-like American news.

It seems that they enjoy preaching what Americans like or think, unconscious to the fact that they are broadcasting to, whoa, Americans!

Here is a great example. Watch the entire clip and he will eventually ramble on about what you will eventually think and how your vote will change due to a comment by Barack Obama.

I'm just happy he's not referring to me, a happy Canadian, and I can simply think for myself.

--Jam

Blind

2008-10-01T12:20:00.002-02:30

In St. John's, we have a theatre company, Empire Theatres, that is prominent throughout Canada. Not as big as Cineplex, it has theatres across the mainland and is the only company here in Newfoundland.

It sucks.

Two movies I've been looking forward to for a long while, Blindness and Religulous, two of the biggest movies this year, are not coming to Empire Theatres. Why? They'll be high-grossing movies and, oh no, they're thought-provoking! I don't know if the Newfies can't handle thought, what with their excitement to see Eagle Eye, Nights in Rodanthe, and Lakeview Terrace, however maybe instead of leaving those lovely films in theatre for ten weeks, we could switch it up and maybe promote intelligent films.

So.. *checks Empire website*

Well, look at that. They are playing this Friday. Both of them.

...why is it when I look at films, neither come up? Because they're not playing yet? How are people supposed to know they're coming then? WTF?

Fix your website! UGH.

This has been a useless rant by Jam. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Please tune in every day for another.

--Jam

September

2008-09-29T00:57:00.003-02:30

How is it possible that September is almost over? It feels like I just left Toronto, left my nightmare of banking every morning, living monotony. Yet, here I am, in St. John's, going to school full-time and loving life.

I hate to make this another boy post, but I'm going to, so deal with it, or go read the news at CNN. I promise this is more interesting, since those political debates were just riveting.

The guy and I have been spending a fair bit of time together. We went to a party together, we went for dinner, and unless it's supremely and solely in my brain, friendship is finally developing into something new and exciting, as I was hoping. I think it's almost hard for it not to. We have so much in common and can talk about anything for hours. It's terrific to meet someone like that, let alone someone you're attracted to, someone who has a plan that might fit into yours.

Whether I wind up with this guy or not, I've learned more about myself than I ever thought I could from someone else in such a short period of time. His goals and his interests and his aspirations--they've changed the way I think about dating. I know now that there is someone out there for me, whether it's him or not, who is ambitious and intelligent and fits my jigsaw piece of a self in so many ways, not just one or two (if that makes any sort of sense). I mean, not to belittle the fact that I would love it if he was that piece because that would make life that much simpler, however on a general level, it's nice to know that he, and others like him, are out there in the world. Also not to say I didn't find something in every guy I've dated up until now; actually saying they each had something, but the "light" is finally showing me that someone might have everything.

It's a nice evening, don't you think?

--Jam

Kay, on a giddy note, for my gurlz who want some specifics, we went to a party and got totally drunk and he flirted with me hardcore, or so it seemed, and we went for dinner the next day. Fingers and toes crossed. Got it?

...squeeeee!

The Wants

2008-09-20T22:46:00.002-02:30

I want to meet Uma Therman.

I want my friend Heather to understand that Uma is gorgeous, therefore when people say she looks like Uma, they're saying "you look like a gorgeous blonde Hollywood actress."

I want to meet a guy that I can be romantic with, and he appreciates it.

I want to meet a guy who wants to be romantic back.

I want a 4.0 GPA.

I want my loans to come in so I can afford to buy textbooks.

I want to meet someone who can beat me at DDR who is not Heidi.

I want a kitty named Friday.

I want to have a husband who wants a kitty named Friday.

I want to have a husband, period.

I want a pina colada. Every day.

I want a house in Barbados that overlooks the ocean. Well, any warm island country really. (Husband in this one too would be great.)

I want a washboard stomach.

I want to know how the hell that happens because Jebus I have tried.

I want my scruff to come in normally, instead of being all patchy on my cheeks. What is that about anyway?

I want to have a bestseller.

I want ten bestsellers, actually.

I want to have the urge and the time to write a bestseller.

I want my mom to say that she's proud of me for going to school and that she supports me.

She finally did.

--Jam is happy

Srsly

2008-09-18T20:14:00.002-02:30

Kay peeps. Serious news today.

Just kidding! My life's not important enough to be news. More like a newsletter that you get in the mail and really don't want about an old tree about to be cut down in a neighbourhood you don't live in, so you don't read it and it ends up in the recycle bin next to the Dominion flyer and the old phone book. Like that.

1. I'm so sick, so sick, of people who refuse to care about spelling and grammar. Do people really not care that they have no idea how to use their own language? I mean, I know I've talked about it before. Many times. Over and over. However, I just don't understand it. I mean, I dislike it when people are relatively uninformed about politics, general issues that should concern them, but a language, to me, is so much more important. It's such disgusting ignorance when a person misuses the very essence of how that person communicates to anyone. Baffling.

2. Still being friends with the guy. It's just so fantastic being around him. Different than other guys I've dated in the past. It's so easy and relaxed and fun. We flirt, ever-so-slightly, back and forth, and I can small inclinations that he's thinking the same as me, that he likes me too, though I'm actually really afraid that if (when) I tell him my feelings for him that he won't feel the same. I guess I'm setting myself up for rejection, but I feel like I can't control this one. I mean, every married person once took a risk with the person they're with, right? I want Liz's opinion on this--do you still read my blog? If so, write me and tell me what I should be thinking or something.

3. If anyone else is a Blog Buddy with Ross Mathews (aka Ross the Intern), let me know! I've become such a huge fan of his--I even comment on his blog from time to time. Once he replied. Just to me!

I think we're BFF's. Obvsly.

--Jam

Two Months, Less a Day

2008-09-15T11:53:00.002-02:30

Good morning, kids and kidettes!

As I am slowly letting go of Jam's Blog, I have also been slowly preparing the next blog, so don't worry, I'll get back into it eventually. I'm hoping to be starting into video blogs instead of doing all text so that you can see my beautiful face, because we all know that's why you read my blog. (All three of you, haha.)

So, I do have a dilemma and I'd like some advice. What happens when you meet someone (in my case, a gay male) who you become friends with, quite easily as a matter of fact, and each time you see this new friend, you become increasingly attracted to the person? I met him innocently enough and we bonded quickly, realizing that we have a lot in common. He continuously mentions in conversation that he doesn't want to date right now, not directed at me but in a general sense, and talks of "when he starts dating again" what he'll do differently.

We have so much in common, it's kind of sick. If I were to ask for certain qualities in a guy, he has near all of them, if not every one. Therefore, I have no idea what to do. I could continue to just try to stay friends, but then I might regret not asking him out, especially when he meets a guy. However, if I ask him out and it doesn't work out, I might lose a friendship with a great person.

Your turn: Advice please!

--Jam with a dilemma

The Squeaky Wagon

2008-07-16T16:43:00.003-02:30

I realize it's been nine days since I posted getoffmyback. I'm trying to get back into posting regularly, so you can clap your "ITZ ABOUT TIME!!!!" messages right now. Shp!

Anywho, I have a gross eye infection. (Aren't you glad you tuned in?) It's a bacterial infection that makes my eyes crusty and red and it's completely disgusting. I went into work and apparently I looked god-awful because they sent me to a doctor and I haven't been to work since. This was Monday. The doctor said that until my eyes stop being gunky, I am still contagious. Working in a bank is probably the worst place to work with something horribly contagious because then I would be infecting my colleagues and about one hundred customers per day. "Thank you for banking with Scotiabank! Don't forget your complimentary infectious disease!" Radical.

I've been sitting at home, catching up with my old friend Video Games, napping, talking on the phone. Yesterday, I even did laundry! Oh, the productivity astonishes me! I've also been applying for jobs and getting absolutely nowhere. There are so many jobs that need diplomas and degrees and since I'm going to be working for another year, I'm stuck applying for a greater minority of jobs that I'm not even getting call-backs for. Discouraging to say the least, but as my dislike for banking grows, so does my motivation to get the hell away from savings accounts and GICs.

I should probably clean. My kitchen is a disaster, but at least it being a disaster makes the rest of my apartment look deceivingly clean. I also should count how many times in the last four years I have mentioned in my blog that my apartment is a mess. I'm guessing about 10% of the time.

(The other ninety, I just kept it to myself.)

--Jam

And Then Comes Rejection

2008-07-07T20:12:00.002-02:30

I had such a bad day at work today. My colleagues' incompetence grew to a new high today when I was basically left to run the entire service side of the branch by myself, unsupervised. It lasted for about an hour, an excruciating hour of a never-ending line. The day ended with the hand of the manager coming down on us for doing everything wrong, and the head teller doing no work except bitching and whining, leaving me to leave the bank around 5.30.

Needless to say, I had a bad day.

My crush came in again today. He smiled at me, went out of his way to make eye contact and be friendly. Kept glancing back at me while he was being served by someone else. Giving me very pleasant signs, but still made me frustrated that I couldn't do anything about it.

The bad day ends, far too late, and I decide "screw this -- I'm asking him out". I went up the street to his work, went up the elevator (holding in both barf and red cheeks), exited the elevator and bumped right into him. He gave me a warm, welcoming smile and this is what happened:

Him: *surprise* Hey! What's up?
Me: Hey! I was looking for you. I was just wondering if you wanted to go for a drink.
Him: What?
Me: A drink. I've had a day and I'd love to go for a drink.
Him: Oh. No, I think I'm good.
Me: Oh.
Him: Thanks though.
Me: *talking far too quickly -- abort! abort!* Yeah, no, that's okay. Takecarebye.

Then I jumped in the elevator, then jumped on the phone with Sarah and vented for near an hour.

...CRAP! Ugh. Men.

I don't understand! He flirted with me for weeks, and I finally get up the courage to ask him out and I'm flat-out turned down. Super.

Half of me is upset I put myself out there to be rejected and disappointed, but the other half is actually kind of satisfied that I actually did it. I don't think I have ever asked someone out like that.

Maybe he just didn't want to drink or something. Fingers crossed he comes in tomorrow and asks me to marry him.

Hey, it could happen!

--Wishful Jam

Citrus Fruit

2008-07-06T13:56:00.002-02:30

Hey peeps.

So as you've noticed, I've caught the blogging bug again. I just feel like I need to keep writing or I'm going to lose it. I don't really know what it is, but it's something.

I have ten posts left until I reach 600 on Jam's Blog, and then I'll be closing it down. It's time to move on to something else. Jam's Blog has been an amazing sanctuary for my thoughts, my desires, my dreams, and my friends, but all good things come to end, says Ms. Furtado, and I believe her.

Ten more posts of whatever comes my way, followed by a compilation of what Jam's Blog has actually accomplished, followed by the opening of Crimson Lime.

Wait for it.
Jam

Haha! Citrus Fruit. Get it? It's me! Ahahaha. Oh boy.

Little Robots

2008-07-05T14:45:00.001-02:30

You need to see Wall-E. Like, right now.

I don't want to give it away so I'm not going to do a review. I just want to tell you how much I completely and overwhelmingly loved it.

Go now!

--Jam

Super Mega Hyper Crush

2008-07-03T23:15:00.002-02:30

My name is Jam and I have a crush.

This isn't really an ordinary crush. It's huge. A stomping on small villages, rampaging through bunny-infested forests type of crush. And I don't know how much longer I can contain it.

He comes into the bank about four days a week. It's a standard bring a deposit in, check the mail, see him on his way. There are dozens of people that come in day-in, day-out, so the tellers tend to build a small friendship with the regulars. But, he stands out. He's very shy, about my height, and has the best smile I can imagine.

It took me forever to start talking to him; partially because I knew my face was as red as magma, and partially because saying anything more than a pubertyesque "hello" made my face escalate to lava. I took a leap a few weeks back and realized that he's fantastic. Charming-but-quiet, but interesting.

We chat about his job, my job, his weekend, my weekend, his new hair, my new obsession with him. (Oh, wait, we haven't gotten there yet.) Part of me feels strange that I like a guy I hardly know, but the other part is fully embracing and obsessing. There's a sense of compassion and adventure in him that are so compelling -- it's hard to explain.

I think I'm experiencing love-at-first-sight, as cliché as it sounds. I see in him precisely what I want in a guy. Someone who presents himself just like that in an everyday public setting, and who, I think, thinks I'm cute. (That's always important!)

Now comes the hard part. (Pun intended.) I'm about 90% sure he's my kind of man. I'm afraid that if I ask him to go for lunch or something, he'll awkwardify and never talk to me again. But, I think it's worth the risk? I mean, if my calculations are correct, ninety is a damn fine number.

I'm going to ask him out. Just casually, a "would you want to go for lunch or drinks sometime?", give him my card when he politely says yes, which he will either way, and leave it up to him. (And pray to Jebus above, below, or anywhere in the middle, that he calls ASAP so I don't have eight billion heart attacks every time my phone rings.)

Wish me luck!

--Jam

PS: Bunny-infested -- you heard me!

Twenty-Three Years and I'm Going Off the Deep End

2008-07-01T21:27:00.002-02:30

I look at other people, when they smile, and wonder what makes them so happy. Are they smiling in the same way I'm smiling, with a current joy and an overwhelming discomfort at other points of their day? Or are they truly content, laughing with the others who have figured it out?

I haven't figured it out. It is too complicated and I don't feel like I'll ever get to a point where it will unveil itself to me and I will finally feel as though I've mastered it. I'm a two-time college dropout; once for academic reasons, the other for financial reasons. I thought I had finally figured that part out until I ran out of money and wound up in a small apartment in Toronto, working in the furthest field from my own as I can fathom. I'm now as stuck as ever, working with people with no ambition, under people with little compassion, for a company with no creative drive. I am becoming the person I hate, with dying aspirations and an agonal hope for something better out of life.

Alas, I know what I want, but have no means to get it. With parents who refuse to help and have ostracized me for reasons undisclosed to me, I have, in the past, found financial refuge in my grandfather. Again, I have called out to him and am waiting for an answer. I feel like a failure, not able to simply continue up the ladder of any field that pays out a dollar. I need fulfillment. I need something to latch onto so I can feel as though I'm accomplishing something in life. I feel as though there's something inside me, something that should shine, but is being blinded by the darkness all around me.

I am thankful to have some terrific people in my life. Sarah, Athena, Natalie, Lindsay, Lilly, Michelle. Nameless, they would still know who they are. Yet, I fall to the sad conclusion that the latter two are going to school where I wish I was, the prior live outside the boundaries of my city of financial drive, so I am left with no one here, save the few acquaintances I have grown to accept and/or tolerate here.

So, do I find another job for the time being? What if I get into a job I also despise and am left with a situation worse than the one I'm in. (I can't possibly imagine that, but I suppose someone could pop the air mattress-of-a-life I've been sleeping on.)

I... just don't know what to do.

Yay emo blog.

--Jam

The Rambling Chat Nut

2008-06-07T04:55:00.003-02:30

...it just kept going.

The_Bobbing_Cat: Me.
kent5757: Creepy.

kent5757: i like that
kent5757: big dick i like more
The_Bobbing_Cat: You like.. what? I didn't
talk to you.
kent5757: i do want
The_Bobbing_Cat: You do want what?
kent5757: dick to suck on
The_Bobbing_Cat: Um, I think you're
looking in the wrong place.
The_Bobbing_Cat: Whose first line is "I like
that" when I never said anything to you
in the first place?
kent5757: you like dick
The_Bobbing_Cat: What does that have to
do with anything? I'm on gay.com, so I
think that's implied.
kent5757: are you horny
kent5757: you want sex
kent5757: most do
kent5757: are you different
kent5757: enlighten me to a new
experience hon
kent5757: you grman
The_Bobbing_Cat: Um, you have me
completely lost.
kent5757: i do want you completly
The_Bobbing_Cat: And I'm partially
German.
The_Bobbing_Cat: Uh, again, looking in the
wrong place.
kent5757: sweet
kent5757: are you in the right pl
The_Bobbing_Cat: What? What place?
The_Bobbing_Cat: What are you talking
about?
kent5757: slow down you ove to fast lets
make this morning last
kent5757: you doing ok
kent5757: what are you looking for
kent5757: you can please me i can please
you
The_Bobbing_Cat: Um, no. No again.
kent5757: how often do you have sex
kent5757: don't be so hard to get
kent5757: have sex witthme
kent5757: tell me what you like doing
kent5757: or forget the sex thing fornow
kent5757: tell me about yourself
kent5757: i'll hepl you along
kent5757: where you from
kent5757: ok bobbie be stubborn
The_Bobbing_Cat: You're 43! And you're
weird!
kent5757: come get to know me fiirst befor
saying that
kent5757: you might be surprised
kent5757: ok so you don't want sex
The_Bobbing_Cat: Kay, I'm going to bed
now.
kent5757: me to
kent5757: can i come with you
The_Bobbing_Cat: Uh, no.
kent5757: meet me later today
The_Bobbing_Cat: And also no.
kent5757: i'll be a perfect gentleman
kent5757: take the chance
kent5757: let me get to know you
kent5757: we can talk
kent5757: go to beach if you like
The_Bobbing_Cat: I'll pass thanks. Have a
good night.
kent5757: so soon
kent5757: tell me what you like
kent5757: what you do where been
kent5757: futur plans
The_Bobbing_Cat: LOL kay, going to bed
now. You can keep talking to yourself
once I'm gone if you want.
kent5757: you have BF
kent5757: you married
kent5757: not that it makes any difference
The_Bobbing_Cat: Yeah, kay goodnight.
kent5757: have you been in love before
The_Bobbing_Cat: Do you just keep
chatting or something?
kent5757: yes i want to know you
kent5757: you are interesting
The_Bobbing_Cat: Riiiight. Kay, night.
kent5757: so nice
kent5757: bobbie
kent5757: now you have email
kent5757: you have nothing to lose
kent5757: you go to school
kent5757: live alone
kent5757: or on your own
kent5757: to young for that i think
kent5757: somethin about you i want

It seriously kept going. I had to just shut the window. Please not that I only talked to him so I could post on my blog. The things I do for you people.

By things I do for you, I mean once every three months or so.

--Jam

Get Your Laws Off Of Me!

2008-03-25T00:56:00.002-02:30

On the left, if you can't tell from my fantastic suspenders.

See this post for reference to the story behind the photo.

--Jam will start blogging again soon, so get off his back.

I Am...

2008-03-25T00:24:00.003-02:30

A man who likes men.

A man who wears scarves I bought in a women's store. (Come on. No one can tell.)

Anti-capitalist who works for the largest bank in Canada.

Obsessed with music no one has heard of. (See Royksopp and Kina Grannis for examples.)

The proud owner of a new apartment in Toronto.

The proud owner of no furniture.

One to dance around my wide open apartment in my PJ's. Daily.

A champion dancer (when I have arrows to follow).

A writer with no time to write.

A blogger at heart who keeps falling off the wagon. (Intervention?)

An academic with no hope of making it into academia unless I win the lottery.

O.C.D. about grammar, punctuation, and use of language in general.

O.C.D. about lots more than that.

A.D.D. too.

A guy who wa

Look, a bird!

--Jam

Cat Nut

2008-01-23T21:18:00.000-03:30

Legend
The_Bobbing_Cat: Me.
Smirnoff_ice_boi: Some guy.
DontBeStupid: Some other guy.
Woody1: Another some guy.

There's a reference to a beer bottle. My picture on gay.com is me drinking a beer. Enjoy!

---

Smirnoff_ice_boi: mmm
DontBeStupid: woah
DontBeStupid: I always did like Cats
* DontBeStupid hides the drool
Woody1: I wish i were a beer bottle
DontBeStupid: you pervert
The_Bobbing_Cat: Hahhaah wow.
Woody1: hey, i'm not the one drooling, bitch! LOL
DontBeStupid: never you mind what I'd doing !
DontBeStupid: :P
Woody1: fine :-)
* DontBeStupid pets the cat
DontBeStupid: :P
Woody1: too bad he's on the Rock right now
The_Bobbing_Cat: ...please don't, lol.

Then DontBeStupid messaged me privately and asked me if I wanted any catnip.

--Jam doesn't want any catnip.

Sometimes

2008-01-21T08:46:00.000-03:30

Sometimes I sleep with a stuffed animal, just for fun.

Sometimes I'll ride around on the bus, transferring from here to there, reading a good novel. I get a lot of reading done of the bus!

Sometimes the people on the bus drive me insane. ...okay, all the time.

Sometimes I get pregnant-woman-type-cravings. Yesterday it was honey-dew melon. This morning, I could really go for some orange pop and bacon. Not in the same dish, but probably at the same time.

Sometimes I dream about my future life somewhere fabulous with fabulous friends and fabulous parties and fabulous money with fabulous clothes. I hope I end up fabulous.

Sometimes I arrive at the school gym and turn around and go home.

Sometimes I fall for a guy who I hardly know. I imagine what he should be like and what we could be. The guy could be anyone -- it doesn't really matter. I just envision the perfect man in a random guy every two weeks-or-so.

Sometimes I regret having regrets.

Sometimes I rant to myself when there's no one around to rant to.

Sometimes I wonder if the world conditioned me to be gay. (I'll have a post about this one soon.)

Sometimes books will all simultaneously fall off my desk for no apparent reason, thus freaking the crap out of me.

Sometimes I won't leave my room if I hear my roommates around in the house, simply because I don't want to deal with talking to them. It's not that I don't like them, it's that I have days where I don't want to talk out loud.

Sometimes I'll spray more than one cologne on myself to see if it'll smell better. Then I smell disgusting and go shower.

Sometimes I steal blog ideas from Marriage-101.

--Jam

More Nuts, Please

2008-01-18T19:27:00.000-03:30

Legend
The_Bobbing_Cat: Me.
dominions: Crazy Nut.
Tiananl: Old nut trying to get into the pants of Crazy Nut.
chriscanuck_03: Random smart-ish guy.
rainbow_blue_20: Random.
Chill900: Random.

---

dominions: Why does moving back home have to be a real foot in the ass
please tell me!
tiananl: back home to newfoundland or back with parents?
rainbow_blue_20: newfoundland sux in the inter
rainbow_blue_20: lol
rainbow_blue_20: winter*
rainbow_blue_20: I can see why you wouldn't be excited to be back
tiananl: ya it does
nlprince: it does not suck all the time
tiananl: jst in the winter
nlprince: sometimes in the wonter
nlprince: winter
dominions: well guys this is it right..I came home to get away from all the
noise and the people that look so dead...I want a fresh start
and a good group of friends and see where it goes cause i am
tierd of all this oh your hot lets fuck and all that jazz
dominions: I want something i can really say is real not a hi and bye
tiananl: yup new frineds is what u need
dominions: and for those of you that don't know what that entails please
don't reply
nlprince: lol
dominions: cause there are lots of great guys out there that want
something that is real
dominions: not some fake ass living in someone elses shadow
dominions: that pisses me off for those of you that can't stand on your
own two feet
dominions: living in someone elses shadow
dominions: be a Man and own it
The_Bobbing_Cat: Who are you rambling to exactly?
tiananl: nice to see someone venting
tiananl: the ending is always the best
dominions: venting....Na ha hunny i'm offering wisdom here
dominions: something that can be learned by all
tiananl: ur 25. wisdom. u havent lived enough yet
dominions: there we go ignorance
chriscanuck_03: life experience can't be measured by a number, in my opinion
chriscanuck_03: some people have greater obstacles before them at birth than
some people will ever have in their lifetimes
dominions: thank-you
chriscanuck_03: so don't look at an age and think that the higher number the
greater the correlation with wisdom because i truly don't think
one exists
chriscanuck_03: just sayin'
The_Bobbing_Cat: I agree with Chris, but I also think it's strange that someone
comes in and rants and that's considered "wisdom".
dominions: well wisdom flows from your lips
chriscanuck_03: well, the difference is that I referred to it as life experience,
not as wisdom
The_Bobbing_Cat: Yeah, which it is.
chriscanuck_03: because when i think 'wisdom' i think old-man-in-the-rocker
dominions: that's so stereotypical
The_Bobbing_Cat: I think wisdom and I think someone with an educated
opinion, not an anger towards something, such as "those of
you who can't stand on their own two feet".
chriscanuck_03: well i guess that makes me stereotypical then
dominions: no
dominions: just realize Dai lay lama
dominions: very young
Chill900: Well we've always been told to listen to our elders. It doesn't
make you stereotypical but the imagery is self inflicted on
themselves
dominions: but i just want to have a good group of friends
dominions: and yes i am single i would love to go on a date with the right
guy
The_Bobbing_Cat: And if you want something real, as you noted earlier, then
go get it, rather than bitching about the fact that there are gay
men in the world who just want to have sex.
dominions: RIGHT GUY
tiananl: a group of various aged friends
dominions: sure
nlprince: quite the chat goin here
dominions: as long as they are not like come here hunny may i feel you
up
chriscanuck_03: Dalai lama would be proud
dominions: damn right
dominions: only add me if you want something real
t_bear98@hotmail.com
The_Bobbing_Cat: LOL! Why would you give your MSN out to the general chat
room? How do you possibly think that is going to land you "the
right guy"?
dominions: cause i have faith
tiananl: faith and advertising
dominions: well i work in marketing
tiananl: never hurts
dominions: lol
dominions: and anyways at least I can admit when i need reality and
there's nothing wrong in making the effort when it is the
thought that counts
dominions: heart's motive
The_Bobbing_Cat: LOL you can admit when you need reality?
The_Bobbing_Cat: What the hell does that even mean?
dominions: yeah
dominions: some people are not all hard inside
dominions: that they can't see what they really need
The_Bobbing_Cat: O.M.G.
The_Bobbing_Cat: What they need is what they deem they need, not what YOU
deem they need.
dominions: example...when you go to the club right....you get alot of
attitude like i'm better than you i wear
60000000000000000000 dollar clothes etc etc. I want to be the
opposite
tiananl: hi spiderman29
The_Bobbing_Cat: Then don't go to the club!
dominions: i never said anything about what someone else needs
dominions: i need
dominions: change
dominions: i am the opposite
dominions: we'll thanks for listening tune in next time at 5:00pm for the
latest from my life lol
The_Bobbing_Cat: ...oh lord.

---

Right.

--Jam

u r so gr8!!!!

2008-01-15T07:12:00.000-03:30

Hey, peeps and peepettes!

Something has been bothering me lately. It has come to my attention that there are a very small select few people on the planet who understand how to properly use language. I can't speak for the French, the Chinese - but as for the English, we, the literate, are few and far between the illiterate, instant messaging masses.

I'm not saying I don't use instant messengers, write emails, or write on Facebook. I do all of these things, but I do my best to convey my thoughts without degrading my own show of intellect. I admit that I have been warped to an extent. I use "lol" and other words that have become socially acceptable (gonna, whatcha, as examples), and only in the last year have I begun to use complete punctuation in instant messaging. This reaction, however, was in response to the overwhelming ignorance that was propelled in my direction by the vast majority of people I chat to.

if we all talkd like this the world wud stop functining cause no one wud no wat were talkin bout.

If that sentence hurt your brain, then you're doing well. I'm surprised I didn't have an aneurysm writing it. Close call, but I'm a trooper.

The motivation behind writing this post comes in a friend's "short story" that he posted on Facebook. This friend is fairly new and has always been one of those people to chat using the least amount of characters possible, for fear that his fingers will fall off from the over-exertion required to type full words. Here is an excerpt:

"every day i hope for a good day but that has not happened in a while, i wonder why though. it has to me! i feel so worthless it has got to be me thats the center of the bulls eye pain. i think to myself again, "but what have i done to myself to feel this way", i try and try to find a rason.is it because i am ugly?or is it that i am so stupid to see the facts right there in front of me? . . . " do i really need to happy? do i deserve to be happy? or what have i done to deserve to be happy"? its true i deserve nothing!" . . . all i had to do is open my eyes to the real world not the world that i had dreamed of which was a perfet world with nothing but happieness and goodness all around. the dream world as i would call it,was not a world but just a meer imagination of what my high expectations wanted it to be. for thoughs who expect more out of the world im sorry for your pain, just accept the dissapointment that the world has to offer and you will be happy in your life."

Okay. Let's talk about the subject matter first. Emo. The story is about a page long and deals with what seems like emotional turmoil followed by resolve and then, somehow, advice. No, you do not need to happy. Past the subject matter, we have everything else. The spelling, the grammar (or lack thereof), the punctuation (or lack thereof), and the pain in my brain. There's plenty of the latter.

I could go on and on about the story itself, but what bothers me more were the comments. His friends, many of his friends, said the following:

"its amazing ! :) loveee <3"
"i am amazed and you should be so proud those words come from the heart that makes it even more beautiful sad but beautiful hugs great job"
"wow just wow this is amazing. i can't even begin to tell how much talent you have. ive read writings from famous scholars and they are inferior compared to your writing. this is just amazing you are insanely talented"

Okay. Deep breaths. Before I continue, I just want to say that in no way am I trying to say he should not write. I'm not saying that the words were not heartfelt or that his friends could feel his emotion in them. What I am saying is they are retarded morons for telling him he's amazing. Especially that last guy! The last one goes to university! What famous scholars has he been reading that are inferior to that? Excuse me - cereal boxes and Christmas cards do not count as famous scholars.

Anyway, I just think if someone is going to write, they should be able to use the language better than a chimp, and should have something to say. Finally, give criticism that will help the writer actually get better - don't tell them they're better than scholars because then he'll just keep doing it!

Dear Jebus.

--jam luvs u

The Singleventures

2008-01-14T08:29:00.000-03:30

Hey everyone!

So I'm trying very hard to get back into blogging. It's not as easy as it seems once you've stopped. You ask yourself silly questions like "Is anyone actually reading this?", "Even if they are, do they care about my randomness?" I keep writing posts and then not putting them up because they seem so boring and dull. I know if I was reading them, I'd be like "Uh, Jam? Be unboring please. Thanks," followed by me switching to staring at a less-boring wall.

Anywho, I've been single for about a week-or-so now and I have to say I'm really enjoying it. Sometimes things just don't work out and after trying to stretch out the inevitable breakup, it feels good to be free and able to be entirely happy once again. I'm casually dating here and there and it's just a lot of fun. I never thought I'd be so satisfied with being single, but I really, really am.

I coming to the horribly self-absorbed realization that I'm actually kind of hot and guys take notice. Go figure? I think being in a relationship makes a person more attractive somehow. It's like you know that you're good enough to be with that last person who was hot and fun, so you exude more confidence. Mayhaps? I don't really know. All I know is I feel like I'm beating guys off with a stick lately. Ha - that sounds horribly dirty and strange, like forest porn or something.

Woodchucks, starring Ruff McBoner. "Watch as Ruff beats off guys with sticks and leaves in this new and tantalizing camping sexventure!" Hahaha! Oh my. If that exists, I'm sorry for humanity. And even more sorry for someone named Ruff McBoner.

I went to the gay bar on Saturday with my gorgeous friend Michelle. It was a much needed excursion, and I managed to go out and only spend $20. How amazing is that? I feel like normally when I go clubbing, $20 is the fee for leaving the house, and $20 more for going to the bathroom, because by the end of the night, I've taken out a line of credit just to get my cab home and owe loan sharks my molars.

While at the bar, I noticed this gorgeous short boy. By short, I really mean about an inch shorter than me, so I'm basically calling myself short. I don't know what it is about short guys that gets me going. I think it's that I enjoy being taller than guys or something? Just like how a straight guy likes being taller than his girlfriend maybe? I have no clue. All I know is if I see a short hot guy, I'm much more inclined to beat him off with a stick than a tall one.

I introduced myself after realizing that I had talked to him through Facebook earlier that day. We then proceeded to get a couple drinks, talk a little bit out in the rain, and dance like I've never danced before. I would imagine it was one part alcohol, one part singleness, one part me being into him, and one part him being into me, because we were dancing practically on top of one another. Normally I'm like "ew, skanky drunks!" but because it was me, I'll let it slide.

We danced and eventually made out a little on the dancefloor. Michelle, being the absolutely amazing friend that she is, danced with his friend and kept pushing me on. I love it when the friend I bring wants me to have a good time with guys rather than getting jealous. I've dealt with both and Michelle is by far one of the best people I've ever brought with me to a gay bar! Some girls are just meant to be fag hags I guess. I hate using that term, but society created it, not me, so deal.

At one point, Michelle and I lost track of the boy and his friend. We found them out front having a smoke, so we started taking pictures of one another. Ya know - drunk stuff. I noticed that there cop cars all over; seems like there was a brawl at a nearby club. One cruiser was parked directly in front of the club with the cop sitting in the car talking to a guy in the back. The boy then proceeds to drag me in front of the car so we could make out on the main street of downtown in front of the police. I'm not even kidding. I couldn't make this stuff up. Michelle has pictures, so I will definitely post them up. I mean, come on, that's freaking hot. In front of all the straight clubs and hundreds of random people downtown on a Saturday night, two little gay boys made out inches away from a cop car. I'd be impressed if I saw that, let alone was that.

Anyway, the night was amazing, and ended off with McDonald's and one of the boy's other friends hitting on me hardcore. I don't think his friend really understood or knew that I made out with him on Water Street, but whatever. I was nearly passed out in the car, so I let him hit on me while I half-napped.

I think I'm going to enjoy being single. I think I'm seeing the boy again this week, so hopefully there is much more to come. With him and others, lol.

--Jam, loving single life

This Is Called Procrastination

2007-12-06T20:09:00.000-03:30

1. Whenever I'm at Tim Hortons, or any coffee shop with donuts, I panic and get a dutchie. I don't know why. I don't even like dutchies very much. What I want is a honey cruller, but do I ever order one? Well, sometimes, but not if I'm panicking.

2. I hate studying, hence me blogging for no reason. I have four exams, half an essay, and six poems to write in the next eight days, but I so don't want to do any of it. I'm totally burnt out. Like burnt toast. Or burnt something.

SOOOO, I forgot I was blogging. Again. I'm not sure how it happens, but this wonderful segment is already over.

Do you know why? ...because Survivor is on.

--Jam

A Day to the Wayside

2007-12-05T00:36:00.000-03:30

Since it's now 12.35am and I haven't done any essay writing or studying like I should be doing, I decided I would itinerize my day to see what I actually did.

4am: Wake up, for some reason.

4am-8am: Watch Project Runway.

8am: Fall asleep, again.

2pm: Wake up, excruciatingly late.

2.15pm: Shower while singing Like the Sun by RyanDan.

2.45pm-4.30pm: No idea. Wandered YouTube and Facebook, I suppose. Also, staring at blank word program.

4.30pm: Todd visits.

4.30pm-6pm: Talk to Todd. Make and eat boxed breaded chicken. Tasty!

6pm: Todd leaves.

6.10pm-8pm: More YouTube. More Facebook.

8pm: Fill out application for new position at Scotiabank. (Something productive! Oh my!)

8.30pm-11.30pm: Chat while checking Facebook every five minutes, and watching random YouTube videos.

11.30pm-12.30am: Freak out for having nothing done. Planned essay due yesterday.

12.30am: Blog to all my lovely fans who have stuck around.

And that's it. I'm going to now go shower and write an entire essay before I go to bed. I refuse to sleep until that essay is done.

...Oh lord. Pray for me.

--Jam the lazy ass

Only Still

2007-12-01T00:01:00.000-03:30

Hey people.

So you're still around eh? I wouldn't assume you are, except for the fact that if you're reading this, you are. If not, no one will read it, and I'm not assuming anything. Right? Right.

I've become completely and utterly bored with blogging. I've working a lot on my writing, poetry especially, as of late. School has become overwhelming, so all my time goes into reading and writing in that way too. Life in general has become a virtual tornado of things to do and people to see.

In two weeks, exams will be finished, papers and portfolios will be handed in, and I'll be heading back to Ontario for a well-deserved vacation, with basically no money to spend while on it. Hooray?

***While writing this blog, I got distracted, and forgot I was blogging. It is now considerably later than when I started it. Ta da.***

Anywho, I doubt I'll be blogging much for a while. I just feel like everything is moving quickly - too fast for me to document. ...or something.

I have a new site on Wordpress.com dedicated to my writing. I have some poetry up there now, so feel free to check it out here or in the sidebar.

Bye bye.
--Jam

Rib Zombie

2007-10-15T20:58:00.000-02:30

Christians believe that a cosmic Jewish zombie can make you live forever if you symbolically eat his flesh and telepathically tell him that you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from your soul that is present in humanity because a rib-woman was convinced by a talking snake to eat an apple of discernment from a magical tree.

I love it.

Taken from The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

--Jam

Birthday, Birthday, What a Turkey

2007-10-15T12:49:00.000-02:30

Well, guess what?

We have another birthday.

*shock*

I know you're shocked. So am I. Especially since I wrote it with asterisks, which is also shocking.

If you can take more shock, read on.

It's Athena's 21st Birthday!

Woooooooooaaaaaah! Old old old! Baaaahahaha!

Anyway, make sure you give her birthday wishes, even if it's only right now, saying aloud "you deserve a li'l green balloon". That would suffice.

Have a good one Athener! We'll celebrate like it is 2004 when I come home for Christmas. Kay? Kay.

--Jam says you deserve a balloon too

Turkey, Turkey, Birthday Turkey

2007-10-10T11:45:00.000-02:30

So, since so many of you asked me questions in my first installment of Ask Jam, this is only directed to Liz, who is the only person who loves me. Well, besides myself.

*ba dum ching*

"What did you do that was oh-so-fun on your birthday, Jam?"
Well, Liz, I had a fantabulous time!

First of all, I had about ten of my (new-ish) friends over to my lovely abode, where I received martini glasses, beautiful golden clocks, and lots o' booze. We danced around to amazing music (since it was my party and I got to choose the music, as opposed to going to other people's parties and being all shunny towards the bad music) and took dozens of model pictures (which I will upload one of when I get them). We then proceeded downtown, looking stylish (of course), and danced with about one thousand drunken sluts and mansluts.

"And then, Jam the Jammy Man, what did you do for Turkey Day?"
Well, nondescript person, I ate a whole bunch of turkey. My aunt and uncle made a feast (including a turkey that could have taken me out before his basting days) which was to die for. Well, I didn't die, but it was still good. I then got Trivial Pursuit 80's edition, proceeded to beat them (with the winning question being "Who sang I Want Your Sex?" It was fate.), and then went home, leaving my cell phone at their house.

I get it back tonight!

And that's the story of my fantastic weekend.

To conclude my fantastic weekend, I got two tests back today. An A- on one, and an A+ on the other.

I deserve something expensive.

--Jam is off to the mall

Birthday Grade

2007-10-05T12:49:00.000-02:30

And now, ladies and gentlemen. Making his eighty-second return from a blog hiatus...

Jam!

I know, I know.
"You disappeared for a month, Jam!"
"What was I supposed to do, Jam?"
"I threw myself off a building, Jam!"

I get it. Truth be told, I've had no energy to blog, and really, not much to blog about. Haven't seen any really bad movies, haven't done anything remotely interesting, and not much has happened in class or at work that requires documenting on the ol' blogeroo.

So, today, on my birthday of all days, I'm going to start an Ask Jam... thing. Comment and ask me a question, any question, about me, and I'll be happy to answer it in the following post. If you don't want to ask me in the comments, feel free to email me at amelioratio@hotmail.com.

Now, I'd say I'll do an update soon, but it's my birthday and I'm exhausted right now, so I'm planning on sleeping and drinking (and eating turkey) for the next four days. Sit tight - I should be back.

Loves ya!
--Jam

Passing Grade

2007-09-15T13:51:00.000-02:30

Well howdy!

Besides the tumbleweeds and crickets, this place seems the same as when I left it. Lots of blue, some daddy drama, this and that. Ah. Good to be back.

Actually, I have no motivation to write. In real life (as opposed to this "fake" blog life I seem to be leading), I am going crazy with stuff to do. School is, of course, top priority, taking up the majority of my time. Reading, studying, all that fun jazz. By fun I mean stressful, and by jazz I mean... stress.

I love being in school - don't get me wrong. I love learning, I love some of my classes, I love the social aspect of seeing everyone and all that. I just don't love studying when it's so easy to procrastinate. Like today, for instance. I woke up around 11.30, house quiet, Todd at work, and instead of doing anything productive, I watched Youtube and clicked Facebook for two hours. Two entire hours spent looking at pictures, listening to music. Doing nothing.

Does anyone else do that? Why does that happen? Why can't I just wake up and be productive all day? Why am I asking all these questions instead of doing anything?

Well anyway, I'm getting up and doing something because I feel like a big lazy Garfield-like catman. And no one likes those.

...whiskers and toes, oh my!

--Jam

The Dilemma of the Lion

2007-08-29T22:35:00.000-02:30

Howdy peeps and peepettes.

So, here's the scoop as of late. I have daddy-drama once again. If you want to hear my sap story about my father, you can read it here. If not, just sit, relax, and listen to me bitch. That's "listen to me bitch", not "listen to me, bitch".

Back in April-ish, I stopped my child support payments from him. My mom was getting hit (hard) by claiming the support, even though I was receiving the money (because Canada is just so efficient that way). Here is an excerpt of an email he wrote at one point, months ago, in terms of what money he would donate to me rather than the child support:

"...the ball is
therefore in your court to tell the judge that the child support is no
longer needed and that you have sufficient funding for university. That is
the reason I have never gone back to court to have the order ended. Most
orders end when the child turns 18. If you have the order ended then money
can still be available to you for tuition. I would like a receipt for the
tuition that I would pay and get a tax deduction. This would allow me to
continue to support your education without changing my budget drastically."

So I, of course, assumed that he was paying for my tuition, which would cost approximately half of what he had been paying in child support per year. I thought "yes, of course that's fair" and went along my merry way.

About a month ago, I realized I hadn't talked to him about it since I received that email in late March and thought I should give him a call to make sure he is still paying my tuition. He isn't exactly a model moral citizen, so my mom and I both could see him turning around and saying "screw you", leaving me with no money. Normally, I could fall back on a student loan co-signed with my grandpa, but since my grandpa is still very sick, I have to work through the year, and have Paul pay for my tuition.

I've called him at least ten times in the last month, trying desperately to get a hold of him and make sure he is still paying. I continuously get my step-mother, a judgmental bore of a woman, who talks to me about illness and religion and how my youngest brother is a "good boy", over and over. I leave my number numerous times, but of course, I get no call.

Today, I finally get him when he's home; not that I want to talk to him, but I have to, so here it comes. He comes on the phone and speaks in a sullen tone.

"Hello Mr. McDonald. What can I do for you?"
"Hi. You're a very hard person to get a hold of!"
"Well, I work." (Gasp! Really!?)
"Ah, yeah. I've noticed. How is that treating you?"
"Tiring. You?"
"Yeah, tiring too. I know the feeling."
*laughs* "Yeah." (The laugh and the "yeah" were more like "Yeah, right. Like you could ever know my kind of tired.) "Anyway, what did you want?"
"Well, I've been trying to get a hold of you because my tuition is due next week and I wanted to make sure you're still paying it."
"I never said I was paying your tuition." (Oh lord.)
"Oh. Well I thought (knew) you had said that in an email a while back."
"No. I had said I would put money towards your education."
"Oh." (Well what the hell do I say now?)
*sigh* "How much is this going to cost me?"
"Well.." *insert numbers.. bla bla*
"Great. More debt for me."

This continues for quite some time. Him bitching and moaning about something he clearly promised months earlier, and me staying perfectly calm, telling him facts. I felt like a lion tamer. Keeping my strength and confidence but not making sudden moves, for fear the lion would pounce and rip my tuition money to shreds, leaving me helpless to die.

In the end he sort-of agreed, and I'm emailing him a bill in a couple days when my courses are all confirmed. I called my mom after and she was furious, saying I had more patience than her. She basically wanted to go over to his house and give him a piece of her mind, but of course, she didn't.

Anyway, I guess that's resolved. If he doesn't pay it, I can't go to school, so that should be a fun chat to have at Christmas dinner. "So everyone, did you know my dad wouldn't pay half the money he had been paying in child support to go towards my tuition? Did you know I was pulling off a 3.3 GPA and was in an honours program? Did you know the most Christian of all of you is actually a neglecting, disgusting human being? You didn't? Well, my oh my! Grab some more stuffing and let's talk turkey!"

--Jam

Okay, Fine

2007-08-28T16:22:00.000-02:30

Hello people.

So I've had no real urge to blog, but I know a bunch of you are getting antsy, so here I am.

I've been uber stressed lately, enough to say "uber". I still haven't found a place to live, and I only have three more days to find somewhere. I have friends to live with, so don't write me and say "Oh Jebus no! You'll be out in the cold! Save the Jam from himself!" because I'll write back and be all "Na-uh". Just like that. And you don't want that.

I've been working at the bank like a crazy banker man. The promotions are still a possibility, but I won't know for a couple more months whether my superiors were all talk or actually had substance behind what they were foretelling. Right now, I'm trying to focus on the upcoming semester and everything associated with it. Studying, books, stress - all that fun stuff. I'm looking forward to seeing all ma peeps and all that. Yep.

Sorry. This is quite possibly the most boring blog I've ever done.

So, in order to spice it up, here is a picture of the new me:

I know it's not the best picture of me, but it shows my point.

Now, everyone, what has changed? No, I was a drunk before. No, shut up, I was that pale before. Yes, I'm now a brunette! Hurray! I've always wanted to try it, and now that I have a beautiful hairdresser boyfriend, he was able to do it AND make me look good. Look! I have eyebrows! Eyebrows! I'm amazed too.

Anyway, that's it. Starting the new semester on the right foot hopefully. Also, hopefully I get a place in the next few days, then all will be as it should be.

--Jam

Just Have Another Beer Then

2007-08-25T15:59:00.001-02:30

Watch this while I get over my blog hiatus:

--Jam

Alive

2007-08-24T01:18:00.000-02:30

Hey peeps.

I have some stories to tell, but it's late and I've just been so busy and overwhelmed lately. Gimme a day or two and I'll finally have an update for you, as well as a shocking picture! (talk about suspenseful, eh?)

--Jam

"Tidy Freaks Me Out!"

2007-08-18T14:09:00.000-02:30

I've become accustomed to having random crap all over my apartment. Books on the floor, plastic bags in a big pile for no reason, receipts from 2001 cluttering up my desk - all became a normal occurrence. I walk funny in the middle of the night because I'm afraid of stepping on a book and breaking my neck while wearing plaid. I don't use certain furniture because it's always full of crap, so it develops into what I like to call "modern art".

There's never been a time when my room wasn't messy either. My Nana once bought me a certificate that said "World's Messiest Room". At Brock, I'm sure I had piles of random books that sat in one spot on the floor for entire semesters. (I'm not sure why I think the floor is a good spot for books, yet I still do it. "Maybe one day I'll have an urge to just lie on the floor and read!" Yeah. They should have a short bus for people who are tidy-inept.)

A couple days ago, I tripped over a book and fell onto my bed. I fell face-first in a non-painful way and just lied there for a long time, laughing into my comforter. The same day, my landlady told me there was someone coming to look at the apartment the next day. I told myself, "Jam, this is a sign," and went on a cleaning frenzy.

Now, my apartment is too clean. There is nothing on the floor, so when I woke up last night to get a glass of milk, my walking funny made me trip on all the extra air. "Who put all that air there?" I thought. "I'll have to put some clutter there in the morning." I glance around and it's all so empty, like I need to paint the carpet. Maybe if I put a lamp in the middle of that room, it won't look so empty? Maybe if...

So, I'm now trying to shut myself up and live in the clean apartment. "Be normal," I keep telling myself. "Clean people are happy people!" I'm not sure if that's really true, but hell, it's going to be true for me, or proudly laugh at the world into my bed covers I will!

--Jam

Bubble Up

2007-08-17T02:15:00.000-02:30

Hello, my Barbies and Kens. You all look gorgeous!

I can't believe it's almost half-past 2am. What is that about? I think time is speeding up while I'm not looking. Totally.

So I had a weird, rocky day. Without going into too much detail out of respect, I had a very good and not-so-good day with the boy. Of course days like that will happen, and of course I'm awfully frustrated. At first, I really didn't know what I was going to do. I was confused, for so many reasons, and really just wanted to curl up in bed with some Amaretto and some Raw Shark Texts (the new book I'm reading *wink*Liz*wink*). Then I realized that here's the deal:

1. We have our differences.
2. We'll butt heads from time to time.
3. We can make it through it.
4. It's completely worth it.

To be completely honest, I've never really had this experience before. When things go rough, I've had the tendency to give up, or have had the other person give up. At this point in time, though, I don't see that happening, or at least I sincerely hope it doesn't. He does something for me that is almost inexplainable. Actually, it is inexplainable.

I know he reads my blog *mini-yay-fest*, but whether or not he reads this is irrelevant. I've made an internal decision to work things out as they come, to look to the positives, and to persevere.

And that's all for today, kiddies. Now go to bed. Time speeds by very quickly during that. Scouts honour.

--Jam

Listen to: Bubbly by Colbie Caillat. It's gorgeous.

The Sick Face

2007-08-14T21:04:00.000-02:30

Howdy peeps.

Today I am going to ranting about sickness. I had thought "I hate being sick. Who ever posts about being sick?" until I read a very similar post with the exact same symptoms over at Marriage-101.

Last night, my throat felt sticky and funky, so I downed some NeoCitrin and a sinus pill and went to be nice and early. Screw you, cold, I thought. I'm gonna get you before you can get me with your smelly, germy hands! Boy, was I wrong. I woke up at 6.30am sweating like a pig (do pigs even sweat?) and completely delirious. I'd imagine my fever would have broken one of those cute little glass thermometers, but alas, I don't own a thermometer because I'm a poor student. Feel sorry for me.

I fell back asleep, waking up every five minutes-or-so for the next two hours before finally suffering through ridiculous sick-dreams until noon. All day I sat around, aching as though I was just on American Gladiators, and making this horrible "uck-uck-UCK" noise in the back of my throat. I'm not sure what the hell I'm sick with, but it sucks, and seemingly will only get worse.

The boy called today and was going to come over to try to make me feel better. I don't know about you, but when I'm sick, I don't want to see anyone but the characters in my video games and Oprah. Maybe Tyra, but I'd have to be fairly goofy on meds to see her.

I had also been sick Sunday morning, although that was hungover-sick, not real-sick. I felt bad for Todd because I'd imagine I was groaning and looking quite terrible in his bed. He went to the store and bought me pills though, which was sweet, and awkwardly attempted to look after me. It was cute.

Here's a picture of us on 80's night Saturday night. Neither of us were 100% 80's (me moreso than him, I think), but it was definitely a hawt evening. The sick after was worth the fun.

--Jam

The Everyday Foxtrot

2007-08-09T19:02:00.000-02:30

Hey everyone. How is the weather in *insert where you are*? I heard that *insert friend's name* is *insert verb*ing. That's *insert positive/negative word*!

My life lately has been ridiculous.

First of all, I've been spending a lot of time with Todd.

Don't I look sexy? Rawr. Not the best pic of him, but come on, we look cute as hell.

It's amazing to be getting to know someone new, having a great time, and being treated like a deserve to be treated, rather than that bullshit that Michael put me through earlier this year. For example, two nights ago I wasn't feeling good, so I just stayed in and played video games. Todd messaged me and asked what I was up to and I told him I was sick and just vegging out. I asked him to come over and spend the night, take care of me, and he kind of made excuses and all that, so I thought he was mad at me. I settled into my game and just tuned everything out until he called around 10.30pm:

Jam: Hello?
Todd: What are you up to?
Jam: Just vegging. What are you doing?
Todd: Nothing. I might go for dinner with a guy. What would you think about that?
Jam: Um, what? Who?
Todd: You.
Jam: ...are you here?
Todd: Where's your door?
Jam: I don't have a door.

Anyway, besides the crazy fact that I don't have a door, it was such a terrific surprise. He had me completely fooled, and bought me dinner, and really did make me feel better. I haven't had a guy do something seriously kind and surprising like that in a long, long while, and it was so refreshing. This one could go for a while, folks.

Other than Todd, I've been studying for my exam tomorrow. I want to write it about as much as I want to be kicked in the family jewels, but I'm sitting at a 76, so I might be able to pull out an A if I study very hard. Fingers and toes crossed, okay?

I've been working a ton lately as well, and had some interesting news thrown my way yesterday. The hours of the branch are being extended, so I'll be guaranteed hours in the fall, which is obviously terrific. Any money during school is a blessing, for sure. The amazing part is that if evening/weekend shifts are added on as well, they'll be looking for a new customer service supervisor, and I, ladies and gentlemen, am up for the position! That would mean a huge pay increase, vacation pay, the works. A real job that would fit my school schedule and would be absolutely fantastic! I can't even believe it. So, for the next month, I'm going to study all aspects of that job so that when it comes available, I'll get it. Cross all your appendages for that as well. All of them.

I'm planning out my next tribute, so stay tuned for that. The new blog isn't coming along at all because I've been so preoccupied, but hopefully I'll have a layout by the end of August.

See you later, *insert your name, duh*!

--Jam

Spatula In The Pants

2007-08-06T22:09:00.000-02:30

Last week, Todd's roommate decided to do a music video parody of Paris Hilton's "Nothing in This World". I had the pleasure of watching most of the taping and busting a gut laughing off-camera. So, for your viewing pleasure, here it is:

Oh, and by the way, the hot guy in the video is Todd, the guy I'm dating! Hah, love it.

--Jam

Tribute: Natalie

2007-08-02T13:49:00.000-02:30

Natalie C.

Hometown: Brantford, Ontario

Known since: Spring 2004

Our Songs: Me & You by Cassie, Maybe by Emma Bunton

How we met: My friend Heather and I lived in residence in our first year at Brock. We always wandered over to each other's houses to get away from our crazy roommates. One day, I came over and there was Natalie. We immediately hit it off, the two most bubbly people that ever graced the halls of Brock. Within five minutes, we had decided we were going to live together and the rest is history.

Amazing memories:
Natalie teaching me hip-hop dancing at my going away party in summer 2006. We were both drunk out of our minds and according to many different people looked like we were trying to get ants out of our pants.

Sitting in Limeridge after a wild night, eating Arby's, and discussing life.

Wading around her pool with Heather and discussing and laughing at how old we are and how far we've come.

Choosing her earrings every time she went out. I'm a professional earring picker.

Sitting on my bed, finding out that Nat was about to change her life, and I was one of the first people she told.

Making fun of her cutting out a hole in her bread and cooking an egg in it, and then making it myself every morning this past year.

***

Natalie is one of those people that I didn't need when she entered my life, and now I couldn't live without her. Even though we're living in separate provinces, living our own lives, we still manage to contact one another when we can, and whenever I come home, I know Natalie will make time for me and vice-versa. We lived together for a year, and due to her and the other roommates, it was the best year of my life. It was hard for me to do a memories section, simply because I have so many memories with her. She is the only person who is as/more adventurous, social, and caring as I am, and I respect her and look up to her more than she could ever imagine. She has changed my life for the better, for the best, and I hope she will continue to do so.

--Jam

Me and Nat, June 2005.

Just so everyone knows, I'm going to start doing Tributes on Jam's Blog every now and then, to add something to this blog and to my friends who have stayed with it for this entire time. I'm going to add a section in the sidebar as well. So hurray for Natalie for being the first Tribute!

Not Viewing

2007-08-02T03:20:00.001-02:30

The new hostess of The View has been announced, and lo-and-behold, it is Whoopi Goldberg.

Now, I have no problem with Whoopi. Frankly, I loved her in her films, I loved her as the host of the Oscars, but I am thoroughly unimpressed with this decision to put her on daily, opinionated television.

Watch this clip and honestly tell me if you think she is interesting and compelling enough to be the lead host of The View.

I miss Rosie already, even though she went nuts.

--Jam

Beep Beep Beep Beep

2007-08-01T21:28:00.000-02:30

Mornin'! If I was in person, I'd be waving a big ol' hearty wave at your face. Wouldn't that be amazing? Thrilling, more like.

Anyway hi! I'm so sorry I've neglected you folk for, like, a week. I guess it's not that long, but I'm such a giving blogger that I feel responsible for any sadness you've experienced in the last week. Forgive me, PLEASE! Spanks.

So, I'm in a very all-over-the-map mood right now. I just woke up from a riveting evening. I got home from work, turned on an old episode of Top Model (because obviously I'm watching old seasons online because it's fabulous), ate some macaroni salad and some Mini Crunch'ems, and totally fell ridiculously asleep on my little loveseat couch for four hours. Four hours is not a nap, people. It's sleep. I just slept away my whole evening. I had planned on my friend Cindy calling me to go for Starbucks, but she never called. Lovely. So now it's 9.30, I've had no social interaction besides the bank, and I'm full of macaroni, pickles, milk, and no-Bucks.

Well, I did have some interaction this morning. This was my morning.

*dreaming of being lost in an Anthropology building at MUN... now, just jump up those stairs and you'll find the prof fo-BEEP-r the th-BEEP*

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
*Jam sits up and doesn't have a clue what's going on*
"It's over there."
"AH!" Oh, it's him.
*Jam runs over to the alarm clock across the room in tiny gym shorts he borrowed.*
*Jam fumbles with the clock for at least thirty seconds of horrible morning clock-beeping.*
"I can't find the off button!"
"It's on top."
He's really sleepy. Does he know what he's talk- "Oh, here it is." *click*

I know that wasn't the most coherent dialogue segment, but I tried to get across exactly what my brain was going through. It was all so random and loud and crazy. It was nice, though, waking up in a bed with someone I am beginning to care for, even if I had to go to work in a torrential rainstorm.

Anyway, about him, he's 26, a hairdresser, and I've liked him for a long time. I've known him here for over half-a-year and we've only went out a couple times but it's felt so natural. We've been having so much fun rather than being awkward around one another. If it continues, I'll tell the story of how I came onto him because I think it's cute. Then again, it may be psycho-drunk-strange, but whatever. What's important is he does something to me that makes my heart stop and my stomach leap. I haven't really felt like that (and I think he feels it back) for a long time.

Well cowboys and cowgirls, it's time for me to go to bed. Again.

--Jam

EDIT: I forgot to mention the other thing that has to do with "beep". In Newfoundland, there is this noise that people make instead of saying "ya" or "mmhmm". It's this beep in the back of one's throat, like a short "mp". Here's an example, in dialogue format, as I know that worked so well earlier.

Jam: So I met this adorable boy. When I saw him I was like "damn", ya know?
Newfie: Mp.
Jam: So I started talking to him, like, cause he's hot...
Newfie: Mp.
Jam: ...stop beeping at me.

Like that. It's weird and irritating. I've picked it up because all my co-workers do it unknowingly and the only people I've been associating with lately is them. I'm now making a conscious effort to stop doing it, which I'm sure looks like extreme constipation during a conversation. Oh well, it's better than beeping at people, right? Mp.

Totally Manual

2007-08-01T08:01:00.000-02:30

Hey ma brothas from anotha mothas 'n' ma sistas from all those otha mistas.

Can't post much this morning either. I've been wanting to blog, but I just haven't had the opportunity. I'm seeing a new boy, which of course I will talk about very soon because it's very exciting, and I've also been stressing about the end of my course and drinking lots. Ya know, the usual end-of-semester drama-o-rama.

Anyway, off to work in a torrential downpour. Yay!

--Jam is already wet

Totally Automatic

2007-07-30T16:11:00.000-02:30

Hey people.

Not much time to post today. I thought I should just tell ya'll that I'm alive and well, just busy as a beaver, assuming that beavers are busy.

I haven't worked on the new blog yet. I'm waiting for my course to end so I can get in some breathing time. In the meantime, listen to Automatic by Ultra Nate. It reminds me of my first time at a gay club back when I was a wee li'l homo. Ah, the days.

Memorieeeees...

Come on, everyone! Sing with me!

...anyway, real post to come in a couple days.

Jam

Take A Look Overhead

2007-07-25T08:00:00.000-02:30

I feel like a zombie today.

I wanted to finish this huge essay last night, but instead, I like stared into space until 2am. So now, since it's due Thursday, I have to write it all today after work. I'm sure I'll have a nap when I come home, so tonight will probably wind up being awfully long. The essay will wind up being awfully awful. Blah.

Haha, and now I'm going to go to work while asleep with my eyes open! Hurray!

And, as a last minute tidbit of information, I just received an email from "admin@viagra.com".

Finally.

--Jam

Does Whatever a Weasel Can

2007-07-24T13:48:00.000-02:30

I'm in a teeny-tiny study room on the 4th floor of the library. I have an essay due Thursday (that I haven't really started), so I figured I should get some sort of jump on that.

A while back, I mentioned Weasel Man, a short, strange man who works at the library. He added to my stress on the day of the photocopier/printer madness by really not helping whatsoever. Today, I encountered him. Here is our conversation:

WM: HI THERE!
Jam: Uh, hi. I'd like to-
WM: How are you today?
Jam: I'm fine. How-
WM: Good.
Jam: Good. I'd-
WM: I love your pants!
Pause.
I've been going on about manpris (capris for men) for the longest time, and I finally broke down and bought them when they were on sale. They are fabulous pants, but frankly, a creepy 50-something Weasel Man should not be commenting on random men's pantaloons.
Unpause.
Jam: Well, thanks.
WM: *gigantic-and-extremely-creepy smile*
Jam: They're called manpris.
Pause.
I have no idea why at this moment I didn't just ask for the study room. I think part of me felt bad for the creepy li'l guy. The other part was eaten away by the creepy smile of doom.
Unpause.
WM: Manpris, eh? Hmm!
Jam: Ya. I'd like a study room please. *holds out student card*
WM: Okee dokee! *takes card* Alright, Jim.
Pause.
My card says "James". Did I say at any time that anyone could call me Jim? No? Didn't think so.
Unpause.
WM: That'll be room four. Oh. One, big fella.
Superpause.
WHAT? Big fella? Are you kidding me? Did I actually just here that come out of someone's mouth that isn't my great aunt Marion pinching the cheeks of some unfortunate baby? I mean, come on, that's ultra-disturbing. Was he making fun of how little I am? Well that can't be, because I'm bigger than him, so maybe he was making light of the fact that... anyway, it doesn't matter.

I'm thoroughly creeped out and have to go back down there to get my card when I'm done. Terrific. "Hey, little fella, stop gnawing on the books and give me my card."

--Jam

Short Self, Walk Tall

2007-07-23T16:37:00.000-02:30

I'm coming to the realization that I have a lot more balls than I thought. Not in the literal sense (that would be a strange realization, now wouldn't it?), but more in the sense that I am the harsh, loud person amongst the backdrop of most people.

For example, I was on the bus to work last week. 8.30am as always, same bus driver that I have every day, same route, same bushes, same everything. This time, there was construction immediately before my stop. Even though I had pulled the little ding string, even though I get off at this stop in front of the bank every day dressed as a banker, the driver forgets about the ding and the everyday stop and drives quickly past. I guess the construction was just too much change. Instead of walking up to the driver and asking politely to stop, or waiting until he realizes that he's made the mistake, my brain says "You'll have to walk all that way!" forcing my mouth to blurt out "Stop, please." The people in front of me jumped, and the bus driver apologized. I was very kind getting off, smiled, the whole nine yards, so it wouldn't have remained negative in his mind (I don't think). It was just that I looked the part of a business professional, and I commanded the stop of that bus. It might sound silly but it was a good thing, as Martha Stewart said pre-jail, and it felt good to be decisive enough to stop a bus simply with my voice. (That phrase makes me sound like a super-hero!)

Today, I was chatting with a co-worker after work and she was asking me where I'll be moving in the fall, to which I replied I was looking at a place on Livingstone. For those of you who are St. John's illiterate, Livingstone is very downtown, and is rougher that some streets, but not downtown Detroit or crackwhores or anything like that. She, in her best middle-aged, suburban mom voice says "Oh. Well I would never live on Livingstone. Why wouldn't you want to live within walking distance of the school?" Now, that's a great idea, but then I'd have to bus downtown to bars, cafes, any time I wanted to go downtown, so it's the same difference, only living downtown has a fun, young-but-hip feel to it, whereas near campus has a young-chugging-beer feel. The latter is definitely not as appealing. Long story short, she didn't understand in the least, saying "I wouldn't even walk in that area. Would you?" I replied, "Hunny," (yes I said hunny), "I'm from Ontario. Stuff downtown St. John's doesn't scare me in the least. I may be little (the same size as she is), but I walk tall." She just smiled, almost a grimace, and changed the subject. I think she was a little intimidated/doubtful, but I'm fine with that. It's not my problem if she's short and walks it. I walk tall. And I'm confident enough to say, aloud, something as lame as "I walk tall." Maybe I'm related to The Rock?

--Jam

Decision Time

2007-07-17T14:26:00.000-02:30

I've taken two domain names, and I need your help in deciding which one to keep as my new blog.

For those of you who are slacking and didn't know about this previously, here's some information:

1. Jam's Blog will remain as my personal blog.
2. The new blog will be more rants, social commentaries, listings, ratings, etc.
3. There is no 3.

One more thing - don't go to those links because I have done absolutely nothing with the sites, except take them so that no one else does. Therefore, don't comment on here saying "there's nothing there! You're a phony!" and come after me with torches. None of that.

The two ideas are:

Fire and Ice Water
fireandicewater.blogspot.com, www.fireandicewater.com

As I will be having rants, as well as other, more positive posts, I could divide them into hot and cold posts, with hot and cold links, and a very bold design pattern, with dark reds, lighter blues. The logo would be fire and a glass of water with ice it, and I would have rotating phrases every week-or-so, saying things like "Stay Cool." or something more interesting.

Crimson Lime
crimsonlime.blogspot.com, www.crimsonlime.com

This site may allow for a better layout, with citrus colours, and many options for the logo, with the obvious being some sort of red lime. I can have sweet and sour links with some alterations of the logo (sweet, for example, having a pile of sugar on it). I would also have rotating phrases, like "Juicy." or something less lame.

This blog is going to be a big undertaking and I really want your opinion on this. It may end up that my readers here are my only readers over there, thus I want all the input from this crowd as I can get.

Comment now!

--Jam

McBastard

2007-07-17T13:26:00.000-02:30

I went to McDonald's the other day. I don't go very often, because of the whole gut rot factor, but I was being lazy and did not feel like cooking whatsoever. I walk in to find about thirty people standing in a large mob in front of the counter.

Now, first of all, do these people think that is how this process works? Lines, people, lines. I think to myself, It's a nice day. I'm sure there's some sort of lines in this mob, and stand at the back of a large, smelly man. Eventually two lines become apparent, and I find myself in the middle of one of them, which makes me quite content. Maybe I'll get my grease-trap faster than I thought!, thought a-couple-days-ago Jam.

When I'm near the front of the line, an elderly man to my right drops a drink off his tray. It splashes everywhere (luckily not on me) and kind of just stands there, quite disappointed with the cup or the tray or himself or Stephen Harper. I bend down, pick up the cup, and walk over to a garbage to throw it out. I figured since I was right there I should do something. I get back to line and the girl behind me, a blonde-dye-job-gone-wrong teenage girl had moved up into my spot. I was helping the old man, I thought, and you saw me, you crazy bitch. I come up next to her, somewhat in front of her, and stand there. Why should she be able to take my spot? Because I was helping an old man who dropped his drink? Right, I scoffed...in my head.

Now, something to note is that although there are two lines, there are four registers, so each line is in the middle-ground of two registers. Just so you can picture my McWorld.

When it's finally my turn, the girl says, to the entire world, "Can I help who's next?" The girl bolts around me and orders before she has stopped walking. Her gigantic-cap-wearing buddy follows along, and I am simply flabbergasted. I decide to just keep my ground, I'm next, I think, and I stay at the start of the line rather than tripping that blonde tramp to the ground with a Louisville slugger, Carrie Underwood style.

Before I know it, this guy who is VERY far back in the line decides that the blonde tramp has created a new line, and also decides that he is next in this line. He walks up and just stands there, and when she's done, he gets to order, because the girl behind the counter is about five and says "Can I help who's next" while looking up or down or through us all.

Meanwhile, while this is happening and I'm so ecstatic that it is, the other register is being held up by two women with knotted hair who have ordered eight full cows, and two of the biggest Diet Cokes I have ever seen. Apparently the girl keeps missing things in the order, but because they keep paying every minute-or-so to add something on like fries or extra grease, I'd assume it was not the server's fault. She seemed to be at least seven - kids grow up so fast these days.

Finally, the rude back-of-the-line man finishes and breezy (as the breeze is blowing right through her skull) says "Can I help who's next?" Without thinking, I decide that I'm not going to get there, that some horrible McPerson is going to jump up and claw out my face to get their McFood. Instead, I look back and the gorgeous, 20-something polo-wearing man behind me says "go ahead" and smiles. "Thanks" and holy GOD have my babies!

I order my meal and get out of McDonald's in about twenty-five minutes. I'm not sure what attracts the world's most horrible citizens there during dinnertime, but all I know is I will not be going back. Unless I wear a polo...

--Jam

Up A Cat's Nose

2007-07-12T10:12:00.000-02:30

Howdy troops.

My apartment is a disgusting mess. I know I've said this many times before, but this time, it is at its worst. I have clean and dirty laundry all over the place, dishes scattered about as though they are settling in for the long haul, and all of my stuff is just not where it's supposed to be. Why is my English textbook from last term sitting on my dining room table? Why haven't I moved it back? Why, oh Jebus, why?

The problem is I am never home. I'm always doing something, going somewhere, and don't have any time to just sit and clean and be. Right now, I'm technically working all three jobs, the bank one, the old dish one, and the new host one, as well as attempting to do well in that course. Just thinking about all that I have to do is making me tired. I think my brain has reached its capacity limit. You know how elevators say "no more than 1200lbs" (which seems like a hell of a lot for an elevator)? I think my brain has a capacity of "no more than three major dedications".

I'm back into house-hunting, scouring the city for possible magnificent houses. I'm going to see a couple today with my aunt, and if we like one and can get it for Sept. 1st, we're hopefully going to take it. The only problem is that my lovely new roommates are being so distant, it feels like they're living on Saturn. The one is being vague and the other I don't really know, but I sent out emails and everything, saying "do you have the down-payment?" or "down-payment would be pretty." That kind of thing. Haven't heard much back, so I'm hoping all is a go. If one of the two I see today is perfect and available, I'm going to call them and be like "yo, dawgs, time to snap to it," or something less strange. Or more. Probably more.

I'm waiting for the realtor to call me back. What is it about realtors and people like realtors not calling back right away? They probably all sit around for twenty minutes before the call you, just to get you anxious for your call. "I'll show that realtor! I'll get so in his face that I'll buy whatever he throws at me. That'll show him."

Realtor isn't a word if it's not capitalized? "Doctor" isn't capitalized, "lawyer" isn't capitalized. Why do realtors get a capital R? Are they pirates? Arrr. Hah, oh lord I'm funny. But seriously, what the hell.

Oh, the title. I found this amazing site, mandolux.com, that has amazing desktop wallpapers. I got a bunch, including a gorgeous up-close Starbucks cup *drool*, and a kitty's face all zoomed in. So, yeah, up a cat's nose.

--Jam

PS: There is no number five, you goobers. It was supposed to be, like, "And.. Jam." Sheesh. Get with it.

Felicitations

2007-07-07T18:31:00.000-02:30

A bunch of job stories/facts/thingies:

1. Congratulations to Julia and getting to quit Wal-Mart to work at Chapters! (And congrats to me for getting FIFTY PERCENT OFF at Starbucks when I'm with her! Good gravy.)

2. Congratulations to me, who got a new job at a bigger, more expensive restaurant; not as a dishwasher, either! I am now a busser/host. Workin' my way up the ~~corporate~~ restaurant ladder.

3. ALSO, that means I get to stop being a dishwasher! Hooray!

4. Congratulations to the other dishwasher at my current restaurant. Standing outside the restaurant (as I noticed because I had just walked by him), he calls inside to say he is not coming in tonight. I stop back in, as I missed my bus, and they tell me he quit, and ask me to work. Obviously I say no; I had just finished a four hour shift, and a six hour shift the night before. Unfortunately, it's not my problem, as much as I enjoy the people I work with.

5. And...

--Jam

Blah!

2007-07-05T19:21:00.000-02:30

Either I am getting more irritable in my old age, or people are just overly rude and I'm just now starting to realize it, because today I wanted to strangle two separate individuals.

The first was a teenage girl on the bus. On my way to and from Starbucks, I always read, as the bus ride is an "efficient" thirty minutes. I enjoy reading to tune out all the crazies on the bus, especially since I don't have an MP3 player (yes, yes, I'm the only person alive, I'm aware.). Teenagers are difficult to tune out but normally whatever novel I'm reading can do the trick. This girl, however, I could not.

She was with two of her male counterparts, being loud and boisterous as obnoxious teens can be. The problem was that this girl was not only loud, but she was one of those people who over-exaggerates and lies through her teeth just to be overly interesting and falsely knowledgeable. For example:

Boy #1: Man, I wish I could get a job.
Girl: I've already had like five jobs.
Boy #2: No you haven't! You need a fucking bank account to have a job!
Girl: I've been using a bank account since I was, like, two.
Boy #1: Well then I'll get a bank account and get a fucking job.
* * *
Girl: I wish I could get my money out of my bank account. I can't though because you need to have three dollars in order to make a withdrawal.
Boy #1: Fuck that shit! It's your money!
Girl: I know. I'll just get my uncle to get it for me. He's a branch owner in *anonymous Newfoundland town*.

I seriously twitched while recounting this girl. She just kept lying! Banks don't have owners, and they certainly do not have three-dollar-rules. Also, if she is as young as I know she is and has had five jobs, she should have more than less-than-three dollars in her bank account.

The second person was this young-ish (probably 18 years old) girl who was waiting for the bus as I got off to walk home. She was smoking and standing right next to the bus door, which I thought was so rude, obviously, because all the people who have to get on the bus have to breathe in her smelly smoke-air. She was pacing around, so as I approached her, I had to walk around her. She then exhaled a big cloud of gross, like, at me. It wasn't on purpose, but she knew it was going to happen because the wind was blowing in my face, and she was upwind. So, involuntarily, I went "BLAH!" really loudly and made this absolutely disgusted face in her direction. She looked shocked that I had a reaction at all, as she probably does this to the crazies and they breathe it in because they're always asking those waiting for the bus for "a smoke" about five times a minute. But me, not me. I will blah at you again, you silly jerkgirl. Don't make me.

--Jam

PS: On a side note, I didn't forget Gen, or anyone else for that matter, in my song-attachment thing in my last blog. I don't have songs for everyone, because if I did, that would just be crazy. I'm not that crazy.

No Show, All Tell

2007-07-04T23:48:00.001-02:30

Hello, you beautiful audiencios, you!

Yes, I did just make up the word audiencio, made it plural, and you get to be one of them!

Today, I'm going to share a bunch of random facts about myself. I'm doing this to make sure that all of you know who I am, if you don't already, which you should since I know all of you... and also, because I have nothing whatsoever to write about because my life is boring. Hurray!

My middle name is Michael. I am the 4th generation to have that middle name on my father's side. Neat, huh?

I love cats and despise dogs. The dog upstairs, for example, will not stop barking at trees and bugs and cars and people and clouds and air and anything else that happens to move or crinkle or walk or not walk or stay perfectly still at any point in time. Therefore, at 3am or 6pm or anywhere in between, I hear "BROOO!" because it's one of those spaniels with the weird oo-barks. I especially (now) hate Oo-barks.

I hate crocs. The rubber shoes with the holes, not the big, scary, prehistoric lizards. They're kinda neat, in an I'm-going-to-eat-you way.

I think if I had pursued it earlier, I could have had a career in music. Not singing, but producing, mixing, and performing instrumentally.

I am extremely overconfident, and think I can do almost anything.

I could eat only feta cheese, black pepper Triscuits, cinnamon-raisin bagels with margarine, and drink milk and ginger-ale and white wine (all separately of course) for the rest of my life and be completely satisfied.

One of the most comforting experiences, if it counts as an experience and not a "thing", to me is a man's warm breath on the back of my neck at night.

I have a fascination with Rihanna. I think she is strange looking, but there is something inside me that loves her music, and wants her to be loved, and wants her to succeed even more.

I think Shakespeare was forgetful. His works are renowned for being able to be interpreted many different ways because of the parts he left open, but I don't believe he did it on purpose. I think he forgot, or was not smart enough to fill in the blanks.

I don't normally care if people agree with me. The opinions that matter most are those that stand out.

I find it fascinating that people fade in and out of my, and everyone's, life. As sad as it can be, I think it is necessary, and to an extent, I enjoy it.

Based on the above statement, I loathe Facebook. I think there are certain people I, and you, are supposed to lose touch with. Facebook is unnatural.

I unwillingly associate songs with people. Here are some examples:
Liz: Dancing 'Til the Stars Go Blue - Tim McGraw
Lindsay: If You're Not The One - Daniel Bedingfield
Athena: Under Pressure - Bowie & Mercury
Heidi: Psychobabble - Frou Frou
Julia: Faster Kill Pussycat - Paul Oakenfold ft. Brittany Murphy
Michael: Umbrella - Rihanna
MPhil: Desert Rose - Sting
Natalie: Me & You - Cassie
Jo & Chantelle: Sex & Money - Paul Oakenfold
Steph: Wherever You Are - Laava

I love talking about my friends. They make me who I am, they help me through anything and everything. Friends are the family I got to choose.

I have far more female friends than male friends.

I find my toaster to be sexy. It's dark blue and is sleek, stylish, and totally hot.

On that note, I'll finish.

--Jam, the sexy toaster man

The Hurting Unit

2007-07-02T12:45:00.000-02:30

Mornin' peeps!

I'm sitting in my friend Jason's room after a very fun night of boozing and belching and everything else that starts with B. Well, except barfing. None of that, thank Jebus.

Yesterday was Canada Day, as I am sure you all know, and to celebrate, Rex Goudie was going to play on George Street. Rex Goudie. If you have been paying attention at all, you will know I have the largest crush imaginable on Rex. I voted for him every week on Canadian Idol, I dream about him (when I'm not making up other men, apparently), and I fantacize about him. When I heard he was playing, I got retardedly excited. Think a squirrel who just found a huge acorn who is having a seizure. Ya.

Instead of booking the night off work like a normal person, I risked it and had to work all day until close. Bummer extravaganza. All day and night, I talked to my co-workers about Rex, how much I love Rex, what I would do to Rex if I had him alone, what pieces of clothing I plan to throw to Rex. My straight male chef didn't understand why I loved him so much. We had this conversation:

Jam: What woman do you find most attractive in the entire world?
Chef: Pamela Anderson.
Jam: Werd. Pamela Anderson is to Chef as Rex Goudie is to me.
Chef: Werd.

So he got it. I don't think we actually said werd, but it made it so much more fun using it in that description, didn't it?

I closed as quickly as I possibly could and got to leave fifteen minutes early. I ran down to George Street and could hear him singing. My heart basically stopped and started eighty times as I walked down. Then, I heard him say this:

"Thank you very much! Happy Canada Day!"

And the music stopped altogether. I missed it. I didn't see him. I didn't touch him inappropriately. I didn't drool all over the people around me. I didn't.

My friends met up with me. A very disgruntled me drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol, danced around at about three clubs, and got felt up by a friend's boyfriend. Classy times all around.

I'll catch Rex next time he's in town. We'll do lunch. And dinner. And breakfast. Hah - I'll have good dreams tonight!

--Jam

The Guy I Made Up

2007-07-01T10:33:00.000-02:30

I'm in a group of people, lots of my friends, and I meet the eye of this cute little Spanish-looking guy that hangs around with the same friends. I've had a thing for him for months, but I can tell he's not interested. I drink some more, socialize, and continue to spot him out of the corner of my eye. I swear he's looking at me, staring me down, so I turn my head to see yes, he is.

I step outside to get some air and he follows, sits beside me on the cold step of the mysterious party-house. He sits very close, close enough that my leg is touching him. I say something clever like "nice night," and he replies, equally as cleverly, "yeah." I look over at him, as coyly as my demeanor will allow, to be shocked as he kisses me. We stay locked for what seems like an hour. We part, I smile, not knowing what to say. Finally, I blurt out "I've been waiting for that for a while." He smirks and says "so have I."

We spend the coming weeks and months together. Going places, having fun, being there for one another. A feeling inside me, a warmth, grows like a tense blossom. I'm thrilled that this has happened and I never want it to stop.

Then I woke up.

I try to get back to sleep to find him in my sleepy daze, but all I can catch is his visage, smiling, in my mind. I've never seen the face in real life, except the reality of my dreams.

--Jam

Bustle & Blow

2007-06-28T21:23:00.000-02:30

These are the things that have bothered me lately:

1. This woman on the bus kept popping her gum. You know how some women do that. They snap it in their mouths for whatever reason, making this loud "pop" every ten seconds. I felt like turning around and asking her why she was doing it, if it made her feel cool and/or special, and then shatter her dreams and tell her that no, it doesn't make you anything but a gum snapper.

2. I got a 70 on a paper on which I worked very hard. I'm so frustrated that I can't get amazing marks on papers. It'll happen soon, hopefully.

3. The entire lower half of my face hurts due to a ginormous pimple on my lip. Why does this happen to me? Is my face rebelling? I know you're covered in freckles, face, but deal with it!

4. I have to trek somewhere to do laundry tomorrow after work. I hate having no laundry in the apartment. Why did I think I could survive just going to a laundromat? Why? Who duped me into thinking that? Who? Some mysterious jerk, that's who.

5. No one is around this summer. I have never spent so much time alone in my entire life. I'm not that interesting when I'm alone. How do people entertain themselves?

6. The dog upstairs will not stop barking. It's this old spaniel thing and it barks and craps (which is, I guess, all dogs really do) and I'm so tired of it. I guess my landlady is gone for the weekend, because when she is home, I hardly hear it. If she hadn't withheld the information that she owned a dog, I wouldn't have moved in here in the first place. Ugh. Dogs.

Well, I guess it's only six things. That's not that bad.

Oh, wait.

7. No one, except Athena, is helping me decide anything on my new blog. I need help or I'm going to make a stupid decision! Geez.

Okay, I'm done now.

--Jam

Citrus Fruit

2007-06-26T14:22:00.000-02:30

I'm having a lazy day today. I've been lounging around, watching reruns of Manhunt, which is the prettiest show ever made, and eating bagels as though they were popcorn. It's classy, I'm aware.

Now I'm just working on the new site a bit, and I need a catchy name. I've come up with these names (and others that did not have the available domain names):

The Crimson Lime
The Burnt Lemon
Indigo Gab

I'm trying to think in terms of what my logo and layout would be like, and both .blogspot.com and .com have to be available, the latter just in case I decide to expand later.

Anyway, let me know what you think. If you have any ideas, let me know!

Off to slack off some more.

--Jam

Life Is Grand

2007-06-25T12:04:00.000-02:30

Reasons why:

1. Rihanna's Umbrella is at the top of the Billboard Music Charts, for the second week in a row.

2. It is 19 degrees outside. Nineteen. No rain. Nineteen. Love.

3. New Songs:
September - Cry For You Weirdest video ever. Well, maybe just weirdest outfits ever.
Erasure - I Could Fall In Love With You The song is fun, dancey, but this homemade kissing video is rather nauseating. Don't say I didn't warn you. Just minimize it and listen instead.

4. In my search for new music, I found this hilarious dance video. I watched the whole thing simply because it is so hilarious. I especially love her cleavage shirt and her blue/pink auras. Classic.

5. My room is a gigantic mess. I don't care one bit.

6. There is a new mocha at Starbucks. Raspberry Mocha. Guess where I'll be tomorrow. Yep. Mochatown.

7. I got ridiculously drunk this weekend. My friends (a couple) had a huge fight, so I left, went to different friends', and had an amazing time with about twenty lesbians. One of them said, "we all love you! You can be one of our token gay boys." Love it.

8. Sex and Money by Paul Oakenfold is still as good as ever. Here, for old time's sake.

9. I met someone at the party, one of the many lesbians, who thought the name "James" is the best name ever, AND she had twice as many freckles as me, making me not the freckliest person there.

10. Freckliest is a word! Seriously! That's insane!

11. I'm going to play tennis today! The "cdntennispro", as this lovely old blog suggests, hasn't played in probably two years. Time to put these guns to good use.

12. My arms are tiny, but I still call them guns. Booyah!

13. It just is!

--Jam is not the freckliest

The Dish

2007-06-24T16:33:00.000-02:30

I'm starting to have dish dreams. Dreams about dirty pans and millions of dishes piled up all over the place. Water spraying in every direction. Total dish chaos.

Oh, wait, that's my job. Right. Not a dream. Awesome.

Dishwashing is by far the most bizarre job I've ever had. I've been a piano teacher, a receptionist - many different, lovely positions - but none have the strangeness that washing hundreds upon hundreds of dishes does. It is completely mindless, quite possibly the "easiest" job in terms of my brain, and it very straight-forward, no skill involved.

Rinse dishes. Put dishes in tray. Put tray in dishwasher. Take tray out of dishwasher. Repeat.

Every now and then I'll get a pot or a giant plastic bucket (do not ask me what those are for) to switch things up a little. Excitement galore! Ooh, I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it!

The problem with the job, as you're all probably wondering because everyone thinks dishwashing is the perfect career choice, is that there is no order regarding the rest of the employees! The waiters dump dishes everywhere, drop things on the floor and walk off, the chefs put pans on the floor and don't tell me they're there or that they're eight-billion degrees - it's all just ridiculous. I'm going to suggest some sort of reorganization because holy god. Ho. Ly. God.

Sorry to ruin the fantasy of the perfect job. You'll just have to move on to dog-walker and/or luggage handler.

--Jamwasher

Work is the Word

2007-06-23T09:58:00.000-02:30

Yesterday, I had the longest work day of my life.

It started off with the usual bus trip into Mount Pearl, the very-neighbouring city to St. John's. I get to work thirty minutes early, as usual, because the bus runs every hour. Efficiency is the word.

I get into the bank, read Wicked 'til my shift starts. This overbearing woman does a skill-build on these call things, with which I have nothing to do. The shift goes by fairly quickly, each customer saying "Well, I haven't seen you before!" I always reply "Yep, I'm the new guy." Over and over. And over. Yep, I'm the new guy. Yep, I'm the new guy. Yep, your face is stupid. Yep, shut up or I'm going to close your account.

The shift ends, and I immediately go home, change, and go to the first night of my new job. The dish bitch at a cute little restaurant downtown. I'm trained by a seventeen year-old who dropped out of high-school and works as a dishwasher full-time. It was a weird experience to say the least. I got the hang of it after about fifteen minutes. Apparently the last guy, the one before me, lasted two hours. He asked where the bathroom was, got his coat, and walked out. Class is the word.

The work isn't difficult, just tiring and repetitive. I kept working steadily, and my baby-trainer kept telling me to take a breather, so it's really only fast-paced if it's ridiculously busy, which it isn't most of the time. The job requires me to continuously spray things, so my hands feel very funny today. They're confused with all the moisture and cleaning products. It's okay, hands. You can hold a liquor bottle later.

Today, I go back in for a dish shift. I would like to work up to waiter, but I don't know if that's a realistic goal. Then again, I don't know how long I want to be a human dishwasher. Money, or energy?

Conflicted is the word.

--Jam is actually the word.

Listen to: The Way I Are by Timbaland, even though the title is a grammatical headache.

The Grandma and Grandpa Factor

2007-06-21T21:26:00.000-02:30

My grandparents were put into my life for different reasons than most others'.

I didn't have the usual relationships with my grandmas and grandpa. Most visit their grandchildren now and then, send them money, see them on holidays. Not to say that they don't love their grandchildren, but the relationships are normally separate, even distant.

With my parents in disarray with their divorce and erratic work shifts, I was a lone three-year old. No cat to snuggle with when they fought, no friends to fall to (who really does at three?). Luckily, I had Nana and Grandma there to guide me.

Grandma, or May, was my knowledge. I stayed at her house every other week, and I could draw an exact map of the way it stayed for the entire time I was there. The gold and green couches, the mirror next to the bathroom that showed my growth every time I left my room, the stars on my ceiling that she brought back from Newfoundland, the orange wood stove in the rec room and the red leather chair that took its place, the piano-painted-red that I spent hours upon hours practicing on, Grandma sitting next to me. She taught me so much, from my appreciation for literature to my piano skills. She always made me drink my milk and eat my "little trees". Sometimes we would walk down to Dairy Queen, take the cones back to the park and just sit on the swings or on a bench and watch the sun set. She taught me morality, sensibility, integrity, and every day, told me that she was proud of me.

Nana, or Winifred, was my spirit. She would stay with Mom and I every other week, and we went through so much together. We raced in the park, laughed for hours at an old video game, struggled together to get through exam review. She would do art homework beside me, so we both had something to show for it afterwards, and I was always jealous that she had so much talent. I loved going to her apartment - I used to stay on weekends, just to see that my Nana was so cool; she had her own apartment with a balcony, and it smelled like my Nana: comforting and protecting. She introduced Sheba when I was 12, and I can still picture the little white kitten looking up at me for the first time, knowing that we would have a great friendship, the little deaf kitty and I. Nana showed me generosity, strength, pride, and what it meant to be full of life.

Nana soon grew old and had to stop driving, eventually moving in with my Uncle. I grew up, our visits stopped, and I saw her monthly, if that. My disappointment in aging grew. I hated that this had to happen, and just wanted to run through the park once more, to see who would win the race.

Grandma passed away two days after I returned from France in 2000. I have never cried so much in my entire life. I was angry at myself for not being there: how could I go to France when she was sick? I was angry at her for leaving: what would I do without her? How would I survive? Who would knit me musical Christmas stockings and help me practice piano? Who?

Grandma's death fell hard on Grandpa, Gordon, with whom I had hardly any relationship. He had softened from the harsh man I knew growing up. Once I could have adult conversations with him, I realized he was there all along, helping me with homework, "toughening" me in his own way. When my mom and Paul, my father, refused to help me with school in 2004, Grandpa stepped in and co-signed a loan and told me "You have it in you to succeed. Don't screw it up."

Currently, he is in the cardiac ward of a hospital over one thousand miles from where I am, possibly getting surgery on his aging heart. I've called, but haven't managed to talk to him yet. I can only hope and pray for the best.

* * *

At my grade eight graduation, I won three awards and was nominated valedictorian, or class president. During my speech, I glanced over to my family. My mom and Paul were as far apart as possible in the line of community-centre-seating; they both were clearly content, but on their faces seemed accustomed to my success. My Uncle sat next to my mom, smiling ear to ear at me, cheering me on in his head. Between my Uncle and Paul sat Nana, Grandma, and Grandpa: all crying. Nana, faced stuffed in tissues. Grandma with her warm smile. Grandpa with tears down his cheeks, trying to hold it in, like a true McDonald.

I paused in my speech, if only for a split-second, and smiled.

* * *

I realize now that I am not, and have never been, alone.

Nana calls me from time-to-time to check up on me. She is always so happy to hear that I am succeeding, and I attribute my fun spirit to her. She has striven through so much and I am proud to be a descendant of her strength.

Grandpa not only signed the loan, but he always wants to know how I'm doing in school. He is genuinely proud of me in all my accomplishments, and I am genuinely proud to be even half the man he has been.

I keep Grandma's picture next to my bed wherever I go. She is smiling down on me from wherever she is with her warm and loving soul in her smile. I drink milk like crazy, and could not survive a week without broccoli. I treasure each day because of the things I have learned from her, in her life and in her death.

* * *

My grandparents mean the world to me, and I hope my mom will be as important a presence in my children's lives as my grandparents were in mine. I can only dream that I will be as close to anyone as I have been with them.

Please pray for my Grandpa.

--Jam

"There's a Jam in My Soup!"

2007-06-18T21:12:00.000-02:30

After much deliberation, I have come to realize a couple of things:

1. Jam's Blog gets whiny. Oops!
2. No one wants an emo blog.
3. Emo bangs look ridiculous on men and women! Go figure.

Therefore, I have decided to do something rash. Something shocking and daring. Something that will blow. Your. Mind. Gasp.

Well, not that shocking. I wouldn't want to thrust you into a state of panic or anything!

I've decided to split Jam's Blog. *hears rumbling in the audience* Now, now, listen to me before you jump off a bridge.

Jam's Blog will remain as a personal blog for all my friends. It will basically stay the same as it is now, with less "five days in a row of posting" jazz. That kind of jazz is called "not having a life in the summer". The new blog will be topic-based, with articles on different issues, ranging from outrageous fashion trends (Crocs, anyone?) to social observations. It will remain light, but it will be more focused than Jam's Blog has been. The new blog will be more like my rants, all the time!

The reason for all of this is that I want my blog to be more public, gain publicity, but in order to do so, I need to make it less personal and less emo. I do still need a place to rant about the Pauls and Michaels of my life, and I want to keep in touch with the few people who read it, so it will stay.

So, the new blog will be launched at the end of the summer-ish. I need your help. What do you envision a successful opinion blog that is mostly humorous (and is mine) to look like? Colours, shapes, themes, etc. And what should I call it? I thought about just "Jam", but jam.blogspot.com is taken by some retard named Jim who has posted once in 2001, saying "This is pretty cool!" There is nothing cool about what you're doing to me Jim. Nothing at all.

Think of a name that is so catchy. It doesn't need to have "Jam" in it. "Love is Blonde" is a terrific example. It's easy to remember, but it's original, and it says something about the content available, that it will be light and related to love and blondeness. Now, who doesn't L-O-V-E that?

Alright. I need your help. Give me your thoughts on names and layout ideas, and I'll keep ya'll posted on what's to come.

--Jam, split in two

The Potential Break-Up Song

2007-06-18T00:13:00.000-02:30

Well, fancy seeing you here!

I start my new job in nine hours. I suppose I should go to bed soon, but my mind is going eighty miles a minute.

First off (so we can get it out of the way, once and for all), Michael is finally just toast. By toast, I mean gone, not bread. And by gone, I mean out of the picture, not physically gone; that happens on Wednesday. We went for lunch/coffee something the other day, and he needed to work on his thesis again, which is completely okay. I respect that he's dedicated and I understand he needs to get work done. I suggested he stay at my place that night, and he said he had to work and wouldn't be able to, as if it was such an outrageous request for me to suggest at all. At that moment, something in me snapped into place, something that should have snapped a while back when he was treating me like dirt. I just got my stuff, said "Good luck with it" (which could apply to anything - I'm so clever), and left. I deleted him from my phone, my email, from any way that I could possibly get in touch with him or remember him fondly in any way. Now, to find another summer fling. ...anyone?

Last night, I experienced my first beer-drunk, and let me tell you, it was not pleasant. Why do people get drunk off of beer if it feels like that? I was dizzy and slurry and ridiculous. I'll stick to liquor, thank you very much. Today, while I was sleepy and shaking off my beerness, I vegged out all day. Read some of Wicked, downloaded a new game, watched some TV; it was quite relaxing. On a side note, CBC gave me the worst and best of TV today. An animated horse movie called "Spirit" came on first. If anyone has seen that movie and survived, I'd imagine they would agree with me in saying "What the fark was that?" It was like a big-budget-but-artsy animated flick. The horses just neighed a lot and ran around, the native guy jumped up and down and shrieked, the bad white people yelled and shot their guns: classic. Oh, and horses can smile now, by the way. Even though they can't talk, they can have facial expressions and many human qualities. Good ol' accurate animated films. DreamWorks, you're making us all proud. Neigh. After the horsies came a David Suzuki special on green living. It was retardedly interesting! There was a house made of hay, another made of dirt. There were even houses that had contraptions that produced their own energy! Solar panels, thermal-something heat, wind power. Groovy, baby! All-in-all, Al Gore would be proud of my television selections today.

As I said earlier, I start my job tomorrow. I have mixed emotions. I really don't want to spend the next two months working in a bank again, but at the same time, it will be nice to be on some sort of schedule and making money. The bank is way in the middle of nowhere, which is the huge downside, but hopefully I can transfer to the downtown branch next summer. I also got a call from a restaurant, so I have to call them back tomorrow. Cross all your fingers! ALL of them.

Today was Father's Day, and not only did Paul not receive anything from me, but my grandpa also had a heart attack. Um, what the hell? It was only a minor one. He's stable, actually quite bored, in the hospital, so everything's okay there. It's just odd, to say the least. I think anything to do with paternity in my family is just messed up. Paul hates my grandpa, I hate Paul, life goes on. "It's the way God intended!"

One more thing: update your blogs! With no MSN and no Facebook and no anything, I check blogs all the time. Like, three times a day. Maybe five. Liz, Julia, and Heidi are keeping up, but the rest of you need to hop on the bandwagon. All the cool kids are doing it. Don't you wanna be cool? Peer pressure! Peerpressurepeerpressure! Mwa ha. That's right.

"Wanna" didn't come up in my auto-spellcheck as incorrect, but "okay" did. Right.

--Jam is a real word.

Listen to: The Potential Break-Up Song by Aly & AJ

Saturnday

2007-06-16T11:20:00.000-02:30

Ola mi amigos!

(I have no idea if that is correct/actual Spanish. It sounds like it could be?)

Yesterday, I had the interesting pleasure of being taken to a movie by my aunt. My cousin, 12, wanted to see The Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. Since he is spoiled rotten (literally), and gets everything he wants, he gets to see it on opening day. I said I'd go, as I had nothing pertinent to take up my time. I mean, the movie can't be that bad, can it?

Yes. It can and it was and it is two hours of my life I will never get back. Ever.

The script was ridiculous. The special effects were interesting, but not spot-on by any means. The plot was outrageously predictable, as well as impossible. (For example, Mr. Fantastic has a side project that he keeps hidden for the majority of the film - ooh, I have goosebumps! - which turns out to be a gigantic jet, without a roof by the way, because ya know how people can survive flying without roofs, that can divide into four separate mini-jets! Yes, one man, a scientist no less, can not only design this jet, but build it, too. Of course! Who can't build a jet that divides into four parts? I think they teach that right after the letter F and right before 2+4.)

The acting was terrible - some of the worst I've ever seen. Jessica Alba, a completely beautiful girl, could not act if her life depended on it; good thing the straight men won't notice. Mr. Fantastic, played by Ioan Gruffudd (yeah, I hadn't heard of him either), was plain silly. I looked him up, however, and apparently he was in Titanic as a minor officer character. Go figure? The Human Torch, played by Chris Evans, was gorgeous, but also really can't act. He plays Alba's brother in the film - coincidence they both can't act? I think not. The rock guy isn't worth mentioning or looking up. He was as much an actor in this film as Michael J. Fox is in Stuart Little.

When all seemed lost (and my Glossette supply had run dry), Dr. Von Doom walked onto the screen, and my heart sighed. Not at the character, or the character's name (what were comic creators thinking in the 60's, I will never know), but the actor. Julian McMahon, one of my gigantic (and newfound since I saw him in Premonition) celebrity crushes. If you don't know who he is, go watch something with him in it, and you'll love me for it. He's strangely handsome, possibly "dashing", although calling someone dashing kind of hurts my soul.

In the end, the Silver Surfer destroys the evil thing he was originally working for in order to save Earth, which makes total sense. After that happens, there is no talk of the great sacrifice the Surfer did for them, the terrifying evil Galactus that was going to swallow the planet, the location of Doctor Doom, the fact that none of the Four are actually Fantastic, nothing. They just walk down a burning street in South-East China (because throughout the movie, they had to show not only Big Ben and the Pyramids, but also the Great Wall, of which they take out a huge chunk. No biggie - you're the Fantastic Four!) and discuss the future of the Four, being all connected-this and team-that. Lovely.

All-in-all, do not see this movie. I know some of you crazy cats were thinking of it, but, just, no. I forbid it.

Oh, I forgot to mention that while Galactus is traveling to Earth, he destroys Saturn's rings. Yea. They don't exist anymore. Silly death-cloud-monster. Good thing the Surfer just flew inside and blew you up. Makes total sense.

--Jam

PS: Holy cow. Sorry for all the parenthesis. I promise less next time (unless I forget).

Daemonistic

2007-06-14T22:04:00.000-02:30

A new movie, The Golden Compass, is opening in theatres in December, and holy crap, it looks amazing. Check out the site to see the trailer and all the neat effects and jazz.

It also has a section, which each of you should complete, that tells a person his/her daemon, the outer soul that accompanies the person in the world of this film.

Mine, in the beginning, is (was) a raccoon. As a "child", or a newborn soul, I have twelve days to mold my soul into its final form. After twelve days have passed, the soul is final and cannot change further.

Please roll over the box below and answer the five questions about me and my deamon Haythia. After you are finished, you will have further changed my daemon into something more appropriate for me. In the end, thanks to everyone's honest and knowing opinions of me, I should have an accurate daemon for my personality.

Please only answer the questions once, no matter what animal comes out at the end. After you're done, do it on your blogs so I can come and make you a pretty animal.

--Jam and Haythia

June 14, 10.50pm: OMG! I'm a tiger! Wooooot. GRR!
June 14, 11.30pm: Um, who turned me into a ferret? Can someone fix that please, lol.
June 15, 12.40pm: Well, at least I'm back to a raccoon. It's been changed eight times. I sent it to more than eight people. Slackers.
June 15, 8.52pm: Who made me a chimpanzee? You're banished.
June 16, 12.30am: Back to raccoon again. Thank god. That monkey was giving me daymares.
June 16, 1.27am: OH MY JESUS. I'm a LION! Uhhh.. STAY! Sit! Lie down! Never move!
June 16, 10.48am: He's still there! Omigosh, if I stay a lion, I'll be a perfectly happy camper in my random fantasy land.
June 17, 4.45pm: Rawr. Still a lion! It says I still have 11 days to go. Weird.
June 21, 10.22pm: I had been a lion for five days, and now I'm a freaking monkey. Who did this to me? *needs revenge*
June 23, 10.55am: And now, I'm a tiger again. Wonderful. You people are playing with my soul. Kinda literally.