My Life has Reached its Pinnacle

You know you're a pop culture nerd when your greatest achievement* of the year is figuring out how to incorporate Texts from Last Night into a critical theory paper. And then you expect other people to be as excited about it as you are, instead of giving you that look that says, "Ah, yes, so you've discovered a way to write a paper entirely comprised of BS. Well done."

On the contrary, I take my work very seriously. But who wouldn't get excited when you switch from quoting Lacan and Derrida to putting things like this in your research essay:

“Bob the builder, bob the uilder bob the builder bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbjbbbbbiotch!pp!!!! (sic)”


No seriously, it's a study of the fragmented nature of the postmodern lifestyle as exemplified through the user-generated content of North American 20-somethings.

Butanyway, that's why I haven't been following regular blogging schedules. Only 2 classes left in my undergrad degree. Whew.


*Aside from speaking at a Pop Culture Conference...and being a presenter at a lunch time speaker series on Comic Books, I mean.

And then My Cousin became a Knife-Weilding Gangster

It would appear my Updated Every Tuesday and Thursday mandate has become a Secretly Only Update On Wednesdays sneak attack. Hey, regular programming lasted for what, three weeks? I call that a win.
 
For my latest run-in with my other self, someone accused me of being a marking assistant at a school in another city and tried to enlist my help to create The Student Assistant Crime-Fighting Heroes Guild or something like that, and it took me several days and some rather convoluted conversations to piece this all together and once again point them in the direction of the Other Me.

Ugly Cat goes to a better place

One of the more popular blog posts I've written was about Capu, the ugly, snotty, half-bald, flea-ridden, wheezing, sneezing, skin-flake-coated 12-year-old cat who spends most of his time rubbing his nose against the furniture and bare legs of anyone who happens to be in the house. In the past year or so, I've mentioned this cat more than my boyfriend (as evidenced here, here and here), mostly because my boyfriend is less likely to wipe his nose on the back of my hand (a character trait that I really appreciate, but which isn't all that blogworthy...I think...).

However, for all that I complain about Capu a lot and insult him on a daily basis, it is with great sadness that I must announce he passed away this weekend.

The Constant Disappointments of Bus Culture

You know those hilarious short stories, creative non-fiction, and stand-up comedy routines that all centre around the bizarre assortment of people who ride the bus?* There are two types of hilarious bus stories: there's the kind that actually involve bizarre situations (the "...and then this crack addict dressed as a dinosaur climbed on the bus and started handing out pretzels to everyone who would sing the star spangled banner with him"), and the kind that were written by people who clearly haven't spent enough time interacting with the world around them and think having sit next to a stranger is An Event (you know, "oh man the bus was so crazy today! this guy sat down next to me and he was just so...fat...and then, he like, tried to talk to me. it was so weird, he asked me for the time. and stuff. what the hell?").

Just so's we're clear, I'm talking about the first type of story. I'm not really interested in the "I don't know what real people are like and was never informed that I would actually have to interact with one of them" type. I thought I should clarify, since I'm about to start complaining in earnest.