In Which I Rant (and everyone is shocked).

Couldn’t stop LOLing and nodding (and loving her!) while reading this ‘rant’ by a really great friend of mine, Sonia Stanger. We met in Kindergarten, and have been talking loudly to each other ever since. She was in fact just here in Montreal last weekend for an NDP youth conference and we had hell of an adventure hang night (although I’m a bit worried she still might be pissed at me for breaking one too many beer bottles on the dance floor, ha woops!) But seriously, this sentence! “Women, as a collective, are like the sublime and unfathomable and unknowable goddamn raging ocean.” …

Stanger Than Fiction

Oh why hello there! Fancy meeting you here. What’s that you say? Shouldn’t I be studying for a certain stats final just now? I think you and I both know that that’s why I’m even here, so I wouldn’t complain if I were you.

Just a little procrastination soapbox time for your Tuesday eve’. I should probably write a post about my weekend and Montreal and how much I adore the city and how Canadians need to battle against mounting cynicism, but that sounds altogether too timely and logical, and rather unlike me. Just go back and read my post about Amsterdam, and insert “Montreal” where it says “Amsterdam”, and you’ll be set. TO THE SOAPBOX!

Today, I read a comment online that I wish I could say was shockingly uncommon. Instead, it left me groaning and face-palming by its sheer, disheartening echoiness through the ages:

“I just like…

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burn burn burn

before I was a star girl I was a child wearing plaid, floral, stripes and polka dotes at once. one day vogue said skinny girls with wide eyes and milky skin are in. suddenly I was a lolita, awkwardly trying to make my long limbs move in time with the rest of my body. being stared at and asked for sex by men twice my age before I even knew what blow jobs were. I was thrown into the galaxy, held only by a string tied around my wrists with a label that said, will likely die.

More Lolita. My Love , My Lo.

“I was not really prepared for her fits of disorganized boredom, intense and vehement griping, her sprawling, droopy, dopey eyed style, and what is called ‘goofing off’ – a kind of diffused clowning which she thought was tough in a boyish hoodlum way.” – ‘Lolita’ p.150

Just, just so brilliant! I’m tempted to write down every one of my favorite sentences, but by then I’d be quoting almost the entire book.