|
Here at the University of Victoria, it's Pick Emmanuel Apart Week, a
festive time of year where people of all ages, races and major
genders come together to throw things at me and generally make me
feel like a sack of crap. This is, like virtually all unpleasant
things on the planet including the Irish Troubles, entirely my
fault. As such, this edition of Text-Heavy is my way of saying 'I'm
sorry' while immolating myself in my own funeral pyre. It also
includes some random thoughts about nomenclature and Santa Clause.
Read on. Here's what happened:
-Not that I was keeping it a secret, but
my friends at university found out about this newsletter. To say they
were unimpressed would be an understatement. Q: How do you feel your
treatment thus far has been, fairness-wise? A: The Salem Witch Trials
would seem like standard judicial process by comparison. I keep
expecting an angry, torch-wielding mob to show up at my door and demand
to see if I can float on water. And then I'd mention that that was
Jesus, not witches. And then someone would bring up the fact that that's
way off topic, and then they'd burn me. I've got it all planned out.
-I guess it's not important, but the
original version of the intro had 'Spanish Inquisition' in lieu of
'Irish Troubles'. However, I realized that there was no way of
mentioning the Inquisition without people thinking of Monty Python,
especially when I talk about burning witches in the very next paragraph.
And that's kind of sad. Thank goodness for the Irish, with their
never-ending fountain of comedic potential. Those wacky Brits.
-Near as I can reckon, the biggest
problem people had with this newsletter was how I propagate lies about
my friends while at the same time making them out to look like fools,
tramps, etc. I'd like it noted that this was about as far from my intent
as possible. However, I do understand their feelings, and as such I will
from here on in use pseudonyms and try to make anecdotal stories more
closely approximate the truth, humor be damned. See? You thought I was
going to have a joke here, didn't you? Aren't true stories hilarious?
-Three things I've learned from this
experience: #1) I am the world's most terrible person and I will burn in
the pits of Hell for all eternity, if I'm lucky (this, by the way, is
not news. I've been saying that for years.) #2) Somewhere along the way,
I misspelled 'pajamas'. #3) If Tiffany ever sees me, she's going to kick
me somewhere that will make it so I can never be a father. Shoot, I
meant Francine. This pseudonym stuff is hard to get used to.
-Now Playing: "Displaced" by Azure Ray. A
song to say I'm sorry by, if there ever was one. Now, I'm not, as one
reader believed, in any way suggesting that anyone reading this
participate in illegal mp3 action. Remember: Every time you download an
illegal mp3, God kills a kitten. Or an angel loses her wings. Or
something. It's bad, don't do it.
-I went over to my friend's dorm room the
other day and discovered that a large section of wall space was occupied
by an organ. Now, I always knew he was eccentric, but I never knew this
guy was crazy. I can just imagine him pushing this abortion of a musical
instrument up 3 flights of stairs, navigating tight corners and finally
squeezing it into a room that rivals, in terms of cubic footage, my
jumbo box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. The best part is he has no idea how
to play the organ. He can learn, he says. I don't know, that's what I
used to think about his ability to not be weird.
-When I think of all the people in the
world who desperately need organs to live, and how there's one just
sitting in a dorm room unused, I want to cry. (Ha ha, a pun.)
-With regular classes over for the
semester, the dorms have implemented strict 24-hour quiet hours, clearly
violating one's right to atonally play the organ. So people have been
coming over to my house so they can be as loud as they want. Apparently,
this is the college student's dream. It's not about being drunk, or
being high, or getting laid. It's about being loud. At least this
explains why everyone I know always seems to have a sore throat and
inner ear damage.
-I had my first exam this week. The night
before, I desperately called everyone else in the class, since none of
us had the foresight to take any notes. It took me until 11:00pm, but I
finally got my hands on some smart girl's class notes, so I rushed over
to my house to study, by which I mean play Playstation games until 2.
Then I made garlic bread and watched TV, to get into 'learning mode'.
Then I promptly fell asleep and got to the exam a half-hour late. I
think I did alright, though. I mean, not everyone in the class had notes
as complete as these from which to study.
-Some professors you just want to run up
to and hug. My Christmas reading list included "Lolita" by Vladimir
Nabokov. I figured I'd save lots of time if I just rented the movie
instead, but then I accidentally went to the entirely wrong kind of
video store. I never knew that learning could be so much fun. Hooray for
gynecological detail.
-Boolean operators confound me. Why is
there no word for 'and/or'? You'd think Merriam-Webster would be all
over this. I mean, we use the term all the time, and it sounds so stupid
with that forwardslash in there. I was thinking sbout some
easy-to-remember world like 'rand' to replace it. Everyone would know
what it meant, and just think of all those precious seconds of typing
you'd save. That's it, I'm writing an angry letter. "Dear Sir rand
Madam..."
-I know a guy who wanted to, as a
Christmas present, mail some magical mushrooms to his friend overseas.
Thing is, I'd never seen someone so paranoid about things like metal
detectors, mail traces, drug dogs and the evil man at customs who wants
us all dead. If I didn't know him so well, I would have sworn that it
was my FRIEND who was shrooming. Then again, that would explain the
organ in his room.
-It's Christmas shopping time again. A
popular gift item this holiday season is the University of Victoria
sweatshirt. This handsome piece would make a delightful gift for any
friend or family who lacks even the smallest shred of taste. I mean,
come on, purple on grey? Ewww... Also, ringing in at nearly sixty
dollars after taxes, this may well be the biggest ripoff in the history
of time (and I include the invasion of Normandy in that statement).
Seriously, folks. The potential recipient of this gift would probably be
happier with a bag of sand.
-I'm a terrible Jew. I forgot it was
Hannukah. One of my Jewish friends reminded me about 2 days in. See,
she's a good Jew: She had the candles and everything. Of course, you're
not allowed to light candles in dormitory rooms, so you can either have
the world's saddest Hannukah by staring at a bunch of unlit candles for
an hour, or you can light them up in secret and try to blow smoke out
the window so it doesn't set off the fire alarm. Let's look on the
bright side: If the RAs get mad we can accuse them of hate crimes, and
that's always a lot of fun.
-I remember when I was a little boy, I
would stay up all night on Hannukah waiting for the great Hannuklause to
come down from the chimney and leave presents under the menorah. He
never did, though, that cheap bastard. Also, I'm pretty sure he peed in
the tsimmis.
-Well, this week hasn't been entirely
about me apologizing for my sins. I also got the phone call of my dreams
when I was offered a room in residence for next semester. I told my
roommates I was moving out, expecting a heartfelt goodbye. Instead I got
this week's Sentimental Quote of the Moment: "Can we keep your bed?"
Sure. While you're at it why don't you take my soul, too?
-Here's the best part, as I see it, of
moving into residence in January: Everyone else is already friends. I
get to spend the next four months as an even bigger pariah than I
already am. Maybe, if I'm really lucky, I'll get to eat at the cafeteria
all by myself. Now that's what I call a good time. I don't see any point
in doing something if you're not gonna do it kicking and screaming.
-I'm going to be living with a roommate.
I don't know who he is, but he must be a real lunatic if his former
roommate had to move out halfway through the year. That's why I've
already begun preparing witty, off-the-cuff retorts to anything my
future roommate might say or do to piss me off. Here's what I've got so
far: "No, YOU shut up." "Oh, yeah? Well you're hogging all the STUPID."
And, my personal favorite: "I'll cut you, bitch." Residence, here I
come.
-And, finally, if I could be any
superhero in the world right now, I wouldn't choose Superman or Batman
or Spiderman or anything. I'd choose to be the one who's really sorry
for angering and offending his friends by way of this newsletter, and
who has the power to make them forgive him. Or Aquaman, because he's
really cool.
|
Share this article
|
