Thursday, April 21, 2005

So apparently CFAM radio back in good old southern Manitoba broadcast the rapidly proliferating Menno blog interview live to air. Mom was approached by several congregation members... "do you know what a block spot is?"... "what is Jared doing on the internet?" Needless to say, Mom didn't know what a block spot was either.

I'm not sure how much explaining I have to do. So I won't do much. Photon is the name of my new plant, a gift from my friend Ali. It's a speckled croton, which is some sort of tropical. It's very space-age, with yellow dots all over it. She says she tried to pick the weirdest one. I'm not sure how to describe it really; it looks like it either has some sort of plant leprosy, met up with some acid rain in a dark alley, or is just too cool for metaphor. I'm really digging it.

I'll put a photo up once I get my life back. I figure if cat friday is worth a block spot, I may as well block spot some plants too ;)

Seriously though, it's a cool plant. Unfortunately, its big brother the passion plant (some sort of amazing vine thing that exploded into Dr. Zeuss flowers when you watered it right... always made me feel loved when it did that) had to be taken down from its window. And when I say "its window," I mean it, that thing was *voracious*. Anyone who's seen its papa at Brighton Yards will know what I'm talking about. I seriously thought it was going to eat Chris. Then who'd keep pushing that crack he called chess on me? It wasn't going to survive the combination of a move and a Daphne cleaning inspection, so I laid it down in solemn rest. I'm getting another though, ASAP. Who'd have thought plants could love you back? I feel as though all my cat jokes are turning back on me in some kind of twist of cosmic karma. Which maybe isn't a very Mennonite thing to block sp- you get the idea.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

The end of term seems both very near and very far from here. Off to the library.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Ah yes. 5am from the wrong side. Good to be back. At least I have Photon the Speckled Croton to keep me company.

*****

It suddenly strikes me that despite my recent standing up for menno-blogger-hood* (parse that last hyphenated concoction as you like) and an earlier manifesto, the unexplained in-jokes and personal entries have taken a sudden rise.

Oblique platitudes and obscure nonquotidian references to follow.

Oh, and someone break me out of school already.


*See "Menno bloggers" under Arts&Culture: Canadian Mennonite, Volume 9, No. 08, April 18, 2005

Friday, April 08, 2005

So apparently I've grown opinionated and crusty in my old age. I also appear bent on shuffling off this academic coil with venting flames of angst and rage. As the term winds to a close, my essay topics are contrarian, my comments in class against the grain, and my willingness to pander to fluff conversations close to nil. In fact, this past week found me declaring in my class on Orwell that he "didn't know what the hell he was talking about" and in my theory class that "post-structuralism doesn't matter." For those not currently attending classes with me, these are subjects of holy untouchability, sacred truths crossed only at risk of slashed grades and shocked peers.

Yes, it's been a blasphemous week, and it's not getting any better. My Orwell paper sets out to prove why his early work sucked, my theory paper reveals Foucault as a poseur, and my Johnson paper succeeds only in pumping hot air into random imagery and floating off in its own pomposity.

And yet, this is in complete contrast with my mood of almost sheer and utter contentment. I don't think I've ever felt this relaxed and in control at this point of the term before. A combination of the wonderful weather, God-filled appreciation of friendships, and the delicious uncertainty of the future seem to render current school woes almost insignificant. And considering the amount of work blah blah blah... that's a significant thing.

There's no great insight coming here. The best I've got is that I need to work on my patience, getting worked up in class can relieve a lot of pressure, and wow is saying a famous author sucks a lame way of rebelling. That being said, the sun can make even the simplest of days glorious. Now if only those papers would write themselves.