Phatic Communion Phatic is the most pretentious word I've heard in a long time. I learned it today in my ESL class, and basically it means "small talk", like, conversing about precipitation, slippery sidewalks, the temperature, and of course, the relationships that people have with their pets. So, if you ever want to condescend to one, or a large amount of boring old white guys, commence with the, "could we please conclude this boorishly phatic communion?"

And ESL, what a boorishly bad class that is. I like the premise of it, I really do, but the more I get into this "education" degree, the more it turns out that I'm really just being taught how to be patronizing. Because that's what my ESL prof is, fucking patronizing. He started talking about this research project he did on "Bingo people", (there's a great deal of lingual things that just get tossed out the window at all the bingo games he's been to apparently, and he got funded for it). And his "cute anecdote" goes something like, "the first time I went, some guy handed me a card and said something absolutely unintelligable, and it freaked me out so I ran away." He apparently came back a week later with friends so he wouldn't have to be alone, because "it's like a whole other planet in there." I have a feeling I'm going to spend a lot of time scowling in that class. It's a good thing I'm in the front row, like a care bear of negativity beaming out my "we dissapprove" energy. I mean, I'm sure it's a valid study somehow, or else he wouldn't have gotten funded, but when you deal with anything, human or animal, there is some respect involved, and he doesn't give me the impression .... Additionally, and a little bit ironically, his lectures are not "like-free" zones. My name is blankity blank, and I like, teach english.

I tell you whut boy, you c'mon over to my town and say be-jiggered stuff like dat, and someone's gonna knawk yer block off doggonit.

The person that lives next to the pervert across the back laneway had a fire in their house today. Apparently the inside was a total writeoff, and the street was blocked off for the day by emergency crews. No one knows what caused the fire. In other news, I think the perv's woman dun gone left him, as there are ridiculous amounts of pizza boxes cascading into the laneway from his driveway. Realistically, it's probably a whole bevy of other things, but, I just don't like the man. I don't dislike many, as a rule, but I really don't like him.

Mum and I went with the grandfolks to get some dinner at Doane's tonight. God I love Doane's. The number 25 with extra chicken, or number 105 with squid, scallops and prawns- wow, cook me an orgasm. That said, I feel like I'm going to explode, and I didn't even finish it. We walked around Bonnie Doone afterwards (mom is big on walking in malls for exercise after a restaurant meal) and I got a new toque (to replace my one four year old Arrogant Worms toque that you can't see the autographs on anymore) and mitts that match, since I lost my gloves. Incidently, these mitts have strings on them, as well as this beautiful robin's egg blue stripe on them, which was the second thing I noticed after spying the cheap price. I think I may go to hell for the amount of cheap that I am. If I don't die of botulism first ("dented cans are cheaper you fool!")

That is all. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a long day. But, an action packed one, to say the least.









  ¶ 9:40 PM