del griffith on the rumour mill

i keep waiting for the axe to fall... surely M won't sit and take it, and just let this prank slide, will he?  but all i keep hearing are congratulations - from people who are impressed with the flawless execution of our brilliant prank.  case in point... i stepped into one of my classes today, and was informed by the prof (aka also academic dean) that he had been hearing about me in the hallways lately... that for all my apparent innocence, there's a more playful side to me - that no one should turn their back on me.  i think that's a compliment... isn't it?  or was it a subtle warning not to take things too far?  not quite sure.  is M scheming 'disciplinary action' with said prof?  

the axe will fall.  of that i am absolutely certain.  but when and how?  i'm too busy writing to care... a media analysis for my gender sociology class that contains one of the following: piquant, reify, or panophobia.  unless someone has a different suggestion?  bombastic found its way into my last assignment, so i checked that one off the list.

my $3.35 investment

step 5: check facebook.  the best way for a good prank to be ruined is by having M find out via facebook that the whole thing's a farce.  Del is apparently from Regina SK with 300 and some facebook friends, and likes gopher hunting, getting up in the morning, and going to bed at night.  perfect.


step 6: at an appropriate time, confess to having facebook stalked the new roommate, and disclose the above information.  express appropriate sympathy for M throughout the weekend.


step 7: go to the steinbach MCC and buy the largest, dirtiest pair of long underwear on the rack, as well as ratty old socks, a couple well-worn towels, a stinky pair of leather "redneck" mitts, and a really bad country gospel CD (forgot to mention that M isn't a huge fan of Christian music of any sort, and hates country music with a passion.  he also likes dark chocolate).  checkout total: $3.35.  buy a $4 end-table (one of the ones with doors so you can put things inside), and conceal all items inside.  this also functions as a very good excuse for going to MCC if the motive is questioned.  buy dark chocolate at superstore.


step 8: ask M for help in putting the TV (which currently resides on the floor) on the end-table as a TV stand.  smile and look innocent when he comments that all your talk of vengeance for his previous shenanigans is just blowing smoke.  remind him that he's an insightful counselling student... and i'm too nice to do anything really nasty (although i threatened the previous week to talk to the sociology dept and recommend him as the student representative on the panel for the faculty forum... which was on the topic of feminism).


step 9: be nice.  sympathetic.  supportive.  etc.


step 10: place a generous portion of water, the towels, long underwear, socks, and leather gloves inside a garbage bag and seal for the weekend... ensuring they will smell slightly musty.


step 11: while M is in class on monday afternoon, go into the suite.  place socks and long underwear in the sink and fill it with water.  place dripping towel on floor behind the bathroom door.  place another one over the edge of the tub.  stinky mitts are thrown on the floor of the common area.  country gospel album is strategically placed so the edge is sticking out from under the closed (and now locked) bedroom door.


step 12: wait.


step 13: ask M how his day has been.  he expresses frustration.  act sympathetic and a little bit incredulous when he tells his sorry tale.  assure him that if anyone can handle it... he can.  they'll just have to talk through it.  ask to see the bathroom.  he allows this, but reminds me to be quiet "because Del might still be in the bedroom... it's locked."


step 14: act appropriately disgusted by the state of the bathroom.  give M space... he needs to process this before he comes out for supper.


step 15: retrieve dark chocolate from my room.  wait.  make some supper.  load the appropriate clip from planes, trains and automobiles on youtube. hang out with A... wait for M to emerge.

step 16: when M emerges from his room, start watching the youtube clip with A... let M see it.  conceal your surprise when he does not catch on.  confirm that he has seen this movie.  ponder the name of John Candy's character with A... what was it anyways?  A looks it up online... finds a quiz.  Asks M for his help.

step 17: allow M to see the options:

What was the name of John Candy's character in the movie Planes, Trains & Automobiles?

Del Griffin Dale Griffith Del Griffith Del Griffing step 18: wait for M to get it... that time, he got it (though it took a few minutes before he understood how exactly we had pulled it off).  and we all had a laugh.  M is relieved that he does not have a new suite-mate. step 19: clean up the bathroom.  offer dark chocolate as a peace offering.

Procrastinating & Pranking

Procrastinate
not a word i feel the need to define (or use in a paper... profs are equally familiar with this word).
my life defines it.
very effectively.
FH is doing homework with me.... it's supposed to keep me on track.  so this will be short.
actually, i got a lot done this afternoon.  it was a good afternoon.  and now half the library's books about the social dimensions of sex huddle together in my bag (they're much too modest to lie around bare naked all over my bedroom floor), waiting for me to pull them out and write a paper about pimps.

but before i return to my work... the prank (by J &A).

step 1: half of pulling a good prank is knowing your victim and the things they are most sensitive about.  so... things you should know about M... a diligent student.  tidy and clean.  kind and genuinely nice to everyone. very social, but also likes time alone.  design prank scheme...

step 2: contact the housing coordinator and ask for her assistance.  she will send an email to the victim (M) on thursday afternoon, explaining that someone named Del Griffith (aka: John Candy's character from Planes, Trains and Automobiles) will be moving into the empty room next to M's sometime on sunday or monday.  they'll share the bathroom and the common area in the space.


(advantages: M is in class all day that week... he does not have time to check into the validity of the facts until the weekend... when all the offices are closed).


step 3: the housing coordinator places a sign on the door saying "welcome, Del Griffith" (like the signs on all the other doors), and places the room keys inside the unlocked, empty room.

step 4: sit and watch the chaos unfold.

clean, tidy M does not look forward to sharing a bathroom with someone.  his bathroom is always clean. always.  M does not know who this guy is, or why he's moving in halfway through the term.  K (another housemate) believes it's all a big joke that M is making up (he's usually the one making trouble).  this plays to our advantage.  M believes it to be legitimate and spends considerable time convincing the skeptics in the house that he is not making this up, and Del Griffith is really REAL.  he starts mentally preparing himself for a new roommate.


more later...

Promulgate

check check.
complete.

i haven't played the word game with this prof before, and i'm interested to see if he catches it.  pretty seamless integration, so i'm thinking not.

other people have also not caught on.  amanda and i have been plotting/scheming/pranking for the last few days.  the poor victim still feels as though all my threats are empty... mwa ha ha.  i learned well from c-bear many moons ago when i still bore the tongue-in-cheek title 'program slave'.  when retaliating... do so from a sufficient distance that the victim cannot immediately strike back.

The Perfect Protest

"Don't try to win over the haters.  You're not the jackass whisperer" (Scott Stratten).  Best (insert stifled chuckle).  Quote (insert gasping attempts to restrain the inevitable).  Ever (insert explosive, unladylike snort-laugh).  So much truth in twelve good words.  In the moments when I obediently pander to my people-pleasing self, I submit to the temporary insanity of a drab existence wherein the joy of authentically being myself is lost.

I suspect that for most of us, our most vicious 'haters' are the dismal, disembodied ghosts of our own ruminations.  "My greatest creative barriers are the groups of squatters that take up space in my head.  They lay around all day, shouting their bad advice and accusations, they don't work, they don't pay rent, they just talk, talk, talk" (Myriam Joseph).  It's little wonder that each of us is our own toughest critic.  Our culture assures us that nobody's perfect, and then advises us that practice makes perfect, and admires that which is picture perfect.  "Perfectionism is a twenty-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it’s the thing that’s really preventing us from taking flight" (Brene Brown).

The zealous biblical scholars among us might point out that Jesus himself directed, "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:48)  But the writer of Hebrews reminds us that no one achieves perfection through adherence to moral standards (law) - that is, through self-improvement, self-help, or self-justification (7:19).  Perfectionism is just poorly disguised pride that pouts like a pathetic three year-old's "I can do it myself!"  Quite the opposite is true: "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me" (2 Corinthians 12:9).

I am beloved.  I am complete.  I am not perfect.  And when I live in pursuit of perfection, what I reap is a mind full of chaos - an emotional perfect storm.  "You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you" (Isaiah 26:3).  Perfectionism knows no rest.  The essence of trust is rest.  So cease and desist your jackass whispering, evict your squatters (or at least demand retroactive rent payments), and get on with living.  I am too alive to be perfect.

Quotes from Brene Brown's blog.  For more like this... see www.ordinarycourage.com.

iNormal

I still want an adventure.  But in the absence of adventure, I am learning the joy of being ordinary and doing ordinary-people things.  Like letting the neighbour dog tag along when I go for walks, and going for sushi with friends, and discussing the merits of different varieties of green tea with other tea connoisseurs, and working out at the gym occasionally, and watching movies with my housemates on our new TV on weekends.

PS - Why did no one tell me that Little Miss Sunshine is a MUST WATCH movie?  I'm well aware of my shortcomings in the realm of anything to do with popular culture, music, movies, etc. but I thought you all had my back.  It was your job to sit me down for 'a talk' and break the news to me - very gently - that my entire life is way off track.  I don't understand why you were all holding out on me (insert guilt trip here).  But now I have discovered for myself how much joy can be derived from escaping into the awkwardly dysfunctional misadventures of Olive's family for ninety minutes... *sigh*.  Ninety very satisfying minutes reminding me that normal is just a setting on your dryer.

On another note, I successfully incorporated ebullient into my last paper (thank you KP!) - a discussion of the social origins of borderline personality disorder.  I'm anticipating a "??? what are you THINKING?" beside that sentence.  My fellow students know the word game that I play (A has suggested bombastic... an excellent word), but my professors have not yet been informed.  Half the joy of the game is seeing how long it is before they begin to suspect that my word usage is contrived.  I have another three papers coming up in the next two weeks, so I need you... to find at least three new words for my writing entertainment.  Piquant has found its way onto my list... definitions attached in the comments.

I am now the proud owner of not one, two, or three... but FOUR bags4darfur.

At least until Christmas...

When I give some away...

*sigh*

Joyce (www.bags4darfur.blogspot.com) came out to Prov for the evening this week - as did Alicia Sawatzky and her friend Miriam - to share their hearts with a small group of college students.  And I got to buy bags.  I danced... almost... but I am too over-inhibited to enact my delight so overtly, but I danced inside all the same.  The remainder of the evening was spent chatting with Miriam and Alicia at Sawatzky's place - enjoying a cup of tea and a much-needed night away, a restful sleep, and an early sunrise drive back to Prov for class.  Love sunrises... it made me think fondly (?!!?!) of the quiet hour between five and six in the morning when I worked summertime night shifts and the sun faithfully peeked its face above the horizon to greet me and sweep the cobwebs out of my sleep-deprived mind.


In other news... for those of you who know my penchant for words... I successfully incorporated the word bowdlerized into a paper last week.
def:
bowdlerize |ˈbōdləˌrīz; ˈboud-|verb [ trans. ]remove material that is considered improper or offensive from (a text or account), esp. with the result that it becomes weaker or less effective : [as adj. ] ( bowdlerized) a bowdlerized version of the story.DERIVATIVESbowdlerism |-ˌrizəm| nounbowdlerization |ˌbōdləriˈzā sh ən; ˌboud-| nounORIGIN mid 19th cent.: from the name of Dr. Thomas Bowdler (1754–1825), who published an expurgated edition of Shakespeare in 1818, + -ize .
ie: "Disseminating emotion and truth through masterful use of language, Stumbling Toward Faith liberates those whose confused and angry prayers have been bowdlerized by cliche Christian optimism; it is a referee's whistle to those who dare provide simplistic answers to complex questions; it is an invitation to intimacy with an unfathomable God."


But today is a new day.  Another research paper is calling to me from the chaos of library books scattered across my bedroom floor, whining petulantly because I have neglected him for the past month.  He pours on a guilt-trip... the drivel of an insecure bloodsucker who resents the attention I lavish on riceandpeanutbutter.blogspot.  The chatter of an auctioneer at a fundraiser nearby is blending into the white noise that will help me focus for the next four hours.  Green tea in hand, relaxed after last night spent lounging in the hot tub.  I'm taking word suggestions - this paper is begging for a new word - something that will provide a moment's entertainment for Dennis, who has the dubious privilege of reading it 48 hours from now.
Ideas?