Pressure

If you would prefer to listen to this short story as read by me, click here. 2024-07 edit: No longer available; I might have the .mp3 somewhere; I might re-record.

They sat side by side on the bed, discussing the everyday happenings of the world. She was pretty with her long auburn hair and glistening brown eyes and he could feel the connection intensifying. He was trying to remember her name. He remembered loving her name the first time he had heard it, but it had since completely slipped his mind.
As they talked, he felt liberated. He hadn't opened up to anyone about his real past in a long time, and there was something about trusting a complete stranger with his own darkest secrets that appealed to his thirst for discovery. But soon enough, she had started talking about her boyfriend and his heart sank. She didn't overdo it, but it was clear where the line lay. He was disappointed, but not frustrated or angry. In fact, he was almost expecting it and it was a bit of a relief to know instead of having to guess.

Still, his teal eyes had lost some of their sheen and he retreated into his shell once more. Perhaps this was a cue to the outside world, for as he was about to launch into the more private details of his life with her, a man with a mohawk approached. He was considerably older than the man sitting on the bed with the girl. He wandered over and sat to the left of the young man, who was now sandwiched between the girl and the mohawk man.

And the mohawk man wasted no time at all. As swift as an eel darting through a pond, he worked his words on her and started recounting to her his travel tales of South America. It worked like a charm. She was immediately drawn into his fantastical world of adventure and ancient Mayan mysteries. And while the young man was interested in the tales, having had dreams of traveling down south himself, he couldn't help but notice the jealousy growing within him.

He managed to suppress every ounce of envy that smouldered at his heart and he expertly put on a silent front as he pretended to be absorbed in the mohawk man's tales. Soon enough, mohawk man started showing the girl his vast collection of travel pictures, and as he explained in perfect detail where the pictures were taken, the younger man further retreated into his own world.
Seeing this pattern in himself, he decided he would do something about it and he slowly edged his index finger to the touch phone screen, which the auburn-haired girl was already touching. And as their fingers brushed against each other, he felt the heat of their touch electrifying his entire body.

But that connection lasted only a second as the mohawk man took back his phone and started talking about his business and money-making schemes. Truthfully, the younger man was quite bored, but he didn't dare leave the bed for fear of losing the girl.

But eventually, he had had enough of this misery and as he slipped off the bed, it was as if no one noticed he was ever there. And as the girl and the mohawk man continued to exchange tales, he wandered into the kitchen to fix himself a much-needed drink.

As the whisky cascaded slowly down his throat, the burning sensation shaking him from his envious torment, a light went on in his head. Her name was Katarina, and he had lost her forever.

Plasma

Stimulate your senses

The Big Medley begins; you hear the sound and it makes you feel alive.
Watch your fingers glide across the screen and feel that space cadet glow.
You're confused but you keep going; there's nothing to stop you except for your hyperactive mind.

Listen to the sound and let the waves penetrate you.
Smell the ecstasy; taste the reality.
Feel your way through your bubble.
And when it bursts, find yourself in a whole new world filled with nervous expectations.

You are no longer idle. You are free from the chains that have kept you hidden below for so long.
The world is no longer your oyster; it is your ocean. And as the waves crash all around you, realize your potential.
You are finally alive.

Kazoo Anticipation Lipsync Enigma Dormant Overture United Graphite Hare Synchronicity Crank Opal Partridge Everlast

Le mur glacial

Quand les gens se mettent à en empiler un peu trop sur mes épaules, il est venu temps d'ériger le mur glacial. N'importe quel mur ferait, mais le froid absorbe toute négativité et redirige cette energie vers la terre, pour enfin aboutir dans le néant. Malheureusement, l'énérgie positive se fait rediriger aussi et donc la possibilité de me faire réconforter diminue drastiquement.

Qu'importe. Le mur m'apporte une certaine serenité, ce qui m'aide à faire face à mes problèmes en toute tranquilité; sans l'énérvement continuel des autres, mon potentiel s'agrandit. Je me fous de ce que les autres pensent pendant que mon mur me protège. Il est là pour me garder sain et sauf, et rien ne peut le percer.
Sauf une arme. Mais pour l'instant, cette arme est dormante, cachée avec une amie qui ne sait pas encore l'utiliser convenablement.

Donc, mon monde m'appartient. Rien ne peut le déchirer. Il faudra du temps pour que l'écume des vagues finissent par m'attraper.

Republic of Heaven

THE GOLDEN COMPASS/HIS DARK MATERIALS SPOILER ALERT.

I want to write it all. I want it to keep going forever - there can't be an ending. If there were, there would be no point to existence. I want them to see that what they've done so far is the very beginning and there really is no reason they can't meet again. Secretly, they know this.
The laws of the universe are unchanging they say, but bending them is not a sacrilege, especially if you're talking about love.

But where do I start? The task is monumental. I'm sure others have tried. Some with more experience, some with less. And the fact that the end of The Amber Spyglass leaves me in shambles and tears for a few minutes gives me reason to believe it's all real. No one has ever been able to define any reality, let alone mine. I can do it. I can't do it alone. But I can do it.

I'm not out for the money. I've never, ever been out for the money. Taking it isn't the same as wanting it though, and if it allows me to flourish by assuring my basic needs, then it will be welcome.

The spectres will return. If not the ghastly horrors depicted in The Subtle Knife, then a variant of them. For the darkness is always around, even if the light is stronger.
It will not be a children's book. It must be adapted, of course, but it wouldn't be right to expose the harshness to the youngins.

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An excerpt from my studies

So here I am, reading and studying through my Sociology textbook for my exam tomorrow.
I read pretty fast, and the language is usually not too complicated for me to understand.

But then I get to section III of my Reading Sociology book and I get stuck with this doozy: "Estimation of multilevel logistic regressions model parameters relied on iterative generalized least squares using a predictive quasi-likelihood method with second order Taylor expansion (PQL-2) (Snidjers and Bosker 1999)."

What. the. eff.

SKIP.

---

I'm done my first full year at UofT tomorrow. Yay! This summer will be amazing; finally, a radical change from all the other shitty summers I've had.

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A new kind of sadness

I know what you mean. You think you're safe - you act like no one can ever get you down. You feel like you deserve more than what you've got.

Your sense of entitlement pushes you to step out of your boundaries - something you need to do.

And yet no matter how you try, you can't seem to get at what you want. You can be who you want to be, but if you're not really that person, then who are you really?

And so I remind myself that there's only only so much you can do before it all comes crashing down in front of you. The truth is glaring at you, and you can't see it because you're blinded by your own selfish desires.

So, try again. Keep telling yourself that you're right. It's okay. We're all right in our own way.

Here. I wrote this for you. Do you remember?

Safe in the light and dark that surrounds me

Free from misery, torture, and pain

The learnings and things that haunt me
Are links to the past and the future

Hope for the future is sometimes lost in the present

But never too far away is love.

What -is- love?

When you love someone or something from your heart and soul instead of just as an electrical brain impulse, you create something that is unbound from the chains of physicality; the grasps that force you to act or behave a certain way.

A flower does not flourish without proper nourishment. When the flower flowers, its radiance shines through and heals the worst of pains - an aura of love.

Logic; or the art of trolling

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=febcuzbEO0Q

:)
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At the edge of reason

Sometimes I can hear you. Sometimes I can feel you. Sometimes I can understand you.
You confuse my dreams. You keep the nightmares away. You make me feel alive.

Why can't I see you?

Hush, whispered Lyra. They're coming on to you. But they'll never be able to break us apart ever again, I promise you.

Wha... what do you mean?

I'm so sorry, Gabriel. I'm so, so, so, sorry. I didn't mean to leave you. But you understand, I had no choice.

You confuse my dreams and now my reality, Lyra. You always have. But I still don't understand.

Well, had I stayed by your side all through your torture and misery, you would have emerged just as helpless as when you began your descent into the abyss.
Do you seek revenge, Gabriel?

No. I don't want revenge. Not even to the shrinks who thought they knew better than I did.

Quickly! They're coming! Go hide in the trees; I'll distract them while you make it to your safehaven.

Oh, there's no need for that! I have an ace up my sleeve.

What... you mean like, a weapon?

Yeah babe. Paramore.
♥
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Hungover

What? Gabe is stuck with a hangover? Surely there must be a mistake.
I mean, after all, I rarely drink, and when I do drink, I make sure to consume twice as much water as alcohol. With this simple method, I've avoided 99% of any potential hangovers.

But this morning (morning! not afternoon) I woke up with a headache.
It's quite mild, really and I'm sure it would hardly qualify as a hangover for those of you who are habitual drinkers.

Next time, I'll remember not to have a glass of wine after a late-night yoga class, and to just drink water instead. I mean, that's what I usually do anyway, but for some reason I was craving a bit of red wine, so I had a glass with barely any water.

And so here we are!
-
Man, I'm glad water is a superdrink. Did you know? It has ZERO calories! And it's jam-packed with H²0 as well, which is scientifically proven to be good for you! Amaaaazing, am I right?
Did you know what else? Big pharma is actively trying to come up with a pill to replace water. That's how amazing it is! (Okay, I'm pretty sure this isn't true.).
-

And as slowly as it crept on, the hangover is gone.


'Cause I've seen love die
Way too many times
When it deserved to be alive (deserved to be alive)
I've seen you cry
Way too many times
When you deserved to be alive (alive)

Emergency - Paramore, from All you know is falling


Ain’t it fun?
Living in the real world
Ain’t it good?
Being all alone

Where you're from
You might be the one who’s running things
Well you could ring anybody's bell and get want you want
You see it’s easy to ignore trouble
When you’re living in a bubble

Ain't it fun - Paramore, from Paramore


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Musical taste

I thought it would be ever so illuminating if I showed you my top 25 most played on my iTunes. I regret nothing!

Disclaimer: This selection is not representative of my actual music tastes. I sure do like those songs though.

Yeah, I really do like Paramore.

Feel free to comment/link to yours, I'd be happy to compare.

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Fierceness

Sometimes you just have to stop thinking of the perfect title and settle with a word that randomly pops into your head.
Alternatively, you also might have to just stop thinking about what to write in the post and simply continue on from your title.

What is fierceness? Well, according to my quick Google dictionary search, fierceness is: "ferocity; the property of being wild or turbulent".

Hmm, at first I was thinking of writing about why I am fierce, but I don't quite think I match the definition.
However, a secondary definition for the word fierce brings up this: "(of a feeling, emotion, or action) Showing a heartfelt and powerful intensity".

Ah, now this I can write about. I cannot write about love, nor can I write about heartbreak. But I can certainly write about being fierce!

Now, where in my life would I have been fierce? Perhaps in my younger days, as a karate student? Not really. I mean, I acted fierce because I had to, but really, the bigger and older kids kind of intimidated me when I had to practice with them.

No, instead I would say that I am fierce when it comes to the most life changing event of my life, which is undoubtedly my Katimavik experience.
Let's put this into context.

I am fiercely opposed to the Harper government's decision to shut down the program, because I've seen first hand what amazing things the program does for people like me and the communities in which we've worked. Politicians don't really see any of that; they only see the money and popularity contest it might bring.

I also fiercely defend the friendships I formed during my travels in the program. Of course, it's impossible to maintain friendships with the dozens and dozens of people I met during Katimavik, but the very closest people I knew, the ones I lived with for nine months, hold a special place in my heart. And I even miss the two guys who broke away at the end, after the program was done. A & A, man, we had some good times, despite the drama.

And in my experience, I think friendships are worth being very fierce over.

Love will have to wait to be written about; maybe on here. Someday.
-
And so my little challenge of making a positive blog post is complete. I honestly wanted to write another negative one, another one in which I lament my predicament as a young adult. Because I feel pretty down. But I think this helped.

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10,000 pageviews

Woop woop! I've reached 10,000 lifetime pageviews on my blog just now. Cool! Granted, the vast majority of those pageviews are quite likely to just be spam bots. But it's still a milestone, right?

I didn't start my blog almost six years ago to amass a huge audience; that was not my goal. And it still isn't. And it hasn't happened. But it feels neat to have people read what I write and maybe it gets them thinking, or maybe it gets them to do some of their own blogging too. That'd be nice.

Well, I'm going to cut this short; I'm not really in the mood to write about such trivial matters right now.

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Vice & Carrot Juice

Is there anyone free of vice in this world? Is it possible to live free of all vice? Or do we eventually succumb to our own addictions, however large or small they may be, and hope we don't get carried away too far. Is there such a thing as a perfect person? Was the Buddha perfect?
Was Mother Teresa free of vice? Or was she just buying herself a ticket to heaven? Is there such a thing as true altruism?

Questions questions spin around, with answers nowhere to be found. It's easy for me to justify my vice(s) when the world around me is sick; far from perfect.
Why do I do it? What lures me to it? Is this a self-fulfilling prophecy in action, a consequence of reading all those Ellen Hopkins books?

Loneliness drives me to it, that's for sure. Loneliness is rarely bliss, occasionally needed, and almost always desired undesirable. At least by me.

---
One time, she came over with some other great friends, and she sang to me:

And I've always lived like this 

Keeping a comfortable, distance

And up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content

With loneliness

And though I was too far gone in my own world to really know what was going on at the time, her singing it still brings back memories to me now. And I appreciate her for doing it. And it makes me wonder when I'll see her again, because she's a great friend and a really trustworthy gal.

And so as I sip at my desk, sipping carrot juice, I wonder where I will be tomorrow, but more importantly, I ask myself who will I be. And how can I change my life, escape for this circle of vice to be simply happy and free?

You were no cure for loneliness; reckless abandon of sanity.

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Train No. 56

I'm on a train to Montreal right now. It's quite a smooth trip. It was raining when I left Toronto, but now the rain has turned to snow. Some Phil Collins is playing through my iPod, and the train is bellowing out the standard long-long-short-long horn as it approaches road crossings. There's two college-age girls sitting across from me who are also, it seems, taking a vacation during reading week.

I welcome this break from the monotonous routine back at home. Wake up. Vitamins, water. Eat. Computer. School. Badminton. Eat. Vitamins. Sleep. Repeat. Truth is, I haven't been out of Toronto for almost a year. And living in Toronto for that long a time can make anyone weary. And it's great that I just heard a train attendant announce over the speakerphone that we'll be arriving in Cornwall in 5 minutes. I now feel sufficiently far away from Toronto and the school stresses that I could just take a great deep sigh.

Last bit of news: I had to drop my Anthropology course that I found really interesting because of a big essay that was just too much work to finish. I was doing somewhat well up to this point, but that essay would have taken too big a hit on my mark, and I want to keep a sufficiently high GPA.

That's all, take care.

Planispheric Mind Meld

I bet you're thinking: "Whoa! What is Gabe gonna write about now? That's a wacky blog title!".
And I'm going to be writing about a wacky subject.
But first, a prelude.

I get a lot of ideas of what to write about when I'm walking around - either wandering around town, or going to school or something. And I often think to myself "Gee, this or that would make for a pretty interesting blog post". Usually though, I either forget about my blog idea when I get home or I'm just not in the mood to write while I still remember it.

Well for once, this time's different.

As I was coming back from school, I was listening to a song called "Planisphère (Part One)" by Justice. I'll embed it below for your listening pleasure, if you're so inclined. It's an electro-house kind of track.

Anyway, as I was particularly enjoying the mid-end section of the song, I thought to myself "man, I wish everyone right now was listening to this. This is awesome!". So that got me deeper into thinking and I started to wonder what it would be like if I had the power to make everyone on the planet listen to music of my choosing. As if I was a sort of global telepathic DJ, if you will. If you're into Dragonball (or have been), you might remember King Kai's power of being able to telepathically "talk" to every human on the planet using his strange antennae. So something like that.

That'd be a hell of a super power. And in the wrong hands, it could quite literally turn the earth into a living hell for all humans. Imagine a Paramore fanatic wanting to share B.'s "music" with the world. You'd be going about your business, gardening or whatever, and suddenly you'd hear some auto tuned trash coming out of nowhere. It'd drive you mad in a short matter of time, I'd imagine.

Come to think of it, it would be a pretty terrifying super power if you played any kind of music. Not everyone likes to listen to music, all the time. Sometimes you're just not in the mood for it. And thus I'd imagine that this super power could easily turn into a form of mind control, or at the very least, mind influence.

So there you have it. I finally remembered something to write about.

A final reflection: Aren't we all plugged into iPods anyway? What if Apple's plan all along was to institute a Planispheric Mind Meld?

2019-07-04 revision: Removed J.B., added Paramore instead (because I know them far more)

Knowledge

So with my incredibly expensive university tuition, I get access to a tonne of scholarly journals, publications, books, articles etc. I should probably take advantage of the fact that I can pretty much research anything I want, whenever I want.
And if I can't find something online, well, I can still visit the massive Robarts Library and sift through old dusty tomes neatly sorted in fourteen floors' worth of books.

It turns out I have a small research essay due in a couple weeks about the collapse of Easter Island. This is for my Anthropology 101 class, and I really should get ahead on that. I have a tendency to leave things like this to the last minute - but don't all university students? Well, anyway, I have to find some good scholarly information about the collapse of this society and argue against environmental factors as the primary reason for collapse.
If you don't know, Easter Island is that place where they have giant stone heads (called Moai), supposedly created by the old inhabitants a few centuries ago.

Anyway, that was a bit of a tangent.
I wish to speak more about knowledge, or more specifically, my seemingly unlimited access to it as a UofT student.
It's a little bit exciting! Knowledge is power, right?
The problem I have is that I'm short-sighted. I should clarify: I mean to say that I tend to strive for short-term goals, not long-term ones. It's a flaw of mine.
Arguably, one of the only long-term goals I've managed to keep is writing this very blog.

Anyway, I don't want to make this too long (as I should be keeping a good sleep schedule and going to bed very, very soon), but I just wanted to give an example of how I've used my unlimited access to scholarly works for personal gain.

It turns out that the city of Windsor has decided to end the fluoridation of drinking water.
And I found out about this by stumbling upon a reddit debate on r/canada.
I'm no expert on the pros and cons of fluoridation of water (personally, I'm against it), but what's striking to me is the sheer amount of people there who are outraged that the city decided to stop fluoridation.
If you don't know, fluoridation is mainly advocated as a way to stop dental cavities from developing.
And so many users there have said "there are literally hundreds of scientific studies that prove that fluoridation is safe" - without ever really providing proof that they exist.

Well, I have the ability to look up said studies, and there are indeed quite a few (about 5000 total with "water fluoridation" as a topic, according to my search).
And while many of them supposedly prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that fluoridation is beneficial (i.e. not harmful), there are others that mention such things as increased lead accumulation in children, as well as infertility in populations with high fluoridation levels in drinking water.

I have a lot to say about the subject of drinking water fluoridation (including some ethical concerns), but for the purposes of this post, I just wanted to give you an example of what I, as a humble undergrad, have the ability to do when it comes to researching any given topic.

And on that note, goodnight.

Le cachot infernal

Ça fait combien d'années que je me réfugie dans le sous-sol? Je ne vais pas répondre à cette question. Mais je veux quand même dire que si je trouve un confort, ou même une certaine sécurité dans mon domaine ligneux, je sais très bien que je ne peux vivre ici pour le reste des temps.

Je fais des efforts de temps à autre pour me distancer de cet endroit. J'ai déjà passé des semaines à éviter mon cachot, souvent à cause d'une étincelle qui me fait réaliser que le temps que je passe enfermé en bas ne me fait que du mal.

J'aimerais bien vivre chaque instant vivant avec plus de punch, plus de vie. La plénitude de l'instant de m'échappe. Et c'est entièrement ma faute.
Bien sûr, vivre dans une ville peut m'offrir une multitude d'aventures. Et j'en ai déjà vécues, bien évidemment, et j'en vivrait d'autres.

Mais ce cachot infernal est infernal justement pour une raison: j'ai l'illusion d'avoir un certain contrôle sur mon environnement, mais à vrai dire, c'est mon environnement qui me contrôle. Je suis isolé du soleil, du vent, bref, de la terre elle même. Ce n'est pas naturel du tout de vivre comme ça, et c'est vraiment la nature qui faut que je prenne pour guide, comme dirait Ciceron.
Réellement, un des seul avantages de mon cachot est le fait que c'est très tranquille, et que quand je suis motivé, je peut jouer mon djembe en toute tranquillité.

J'ai quand même essayé de m'installer un espèce d'autel non-religieux, pour apporter un peu de spiritualité dans ma vie. C'est dommage que je ne l'utilise pas très souvent, mais quand je pratique mon djembe, c'est mon lieu de concentration, mon focus. Loin de l'écran, bien sûr. C'est un peu une continuation de mon "twilight sanctuary" que j'avais érigé quand je vivais à Vancouver. Peut-être vais-je trouver un nom presque autant cool pour mon autel.

Voici une photo:

J'adore les chandelles à cire d'abeille. À gauche, mon djembe. À droite,  un bâton de pluie qu'une chère amie m'a donné comme cadeau de noël.

On a jamais utilisé la cheminée, alors j'essaye d'en profiter pour utiliser l'endroit.

C'est tout pour aujourd'hui! Mes excuses si vous ne comprenez pas le français :).

A momentary lapse of music

I've always liked A Momentary Lapse of Reason, an album by Pink Floyd. It sounds like something you'd hear if you were floating in the mesosphere, or maybe even the stratosphere. That is, if somehow there was music playing up there.

I like asking people what their favourite Pink Floyd albums are. I mean, it's rare that people know more than a few, but if they really like Pink Floyd, then it's nice being able to discuss the differences in taste within the Pink Floyd universe with someone else.
You know what I'd like to do some day? Listen to an entire album with someone cool, maybe someone I don't know very well, and seeing if you can bond that. No need for drugs or anything, just some good ol' fashion hangout with someone who happens to like Pink Floyd.
Maybe I feel that urge now, but would I ever remember to ask said person: "Hey! Let's go chill and listen to a Pink Floyd album!". Maybe, maybe not.

I wonder what it would have been like, back in the 70s, when that brand new vinyl was coming out, and everyone would be talking about it. You could ask someone if they'd listened to it, where they'd bought it, and so on. In that way, listening to music was a bit more of an experiential event, I think.
It seems like listening to music nowadays is just a matter of how fast you can download it online or just look it up on Youtube. It's fantastic being able to listen to music so quickly, but I feel like listening to music now is less of a monumental event than it would have been in the past.

---

I want to end this post with a picture. Words are a little dry and probably a little dull to read in the long run, so adding a little multimedia is the fix. Unfortunately, I'm too tired/lazy to find anything cool to take a picture of, so I'll just take a picture of my clever writing utensil container.

New Year's Explosion

An atomic clock, says he. "My watch is synced!" And yet, we still foiled the countdown by a whopping 15 seconds. It was like having different time zones in the pub. On one side, the people watching TV with their countdown, and on the other, a group of friends gathered together counting down early.
And so it was twice the countdown and free champagne, courtesy of our friend S.

Reminds me of the time I was in London, ON with my katimafriends, and Five Man Electrical Band was playing a gig for New Year's in a place called Victoria Park (or so I remember). There was a stage, and beside it was a big clock counting down till the new year. The clock had been counting down for days, if not weeks already, and by the time we got the last few minutes or so, we realized that the clock was quite wrong. The band had their own watches, and they couldn't see the big countdown clock, so they counted down from their time and enticed the audience to celebrate with them, but that didn't work out because a number of people were counting on the big clock to officially celebrate the new year. So it was a whole big epic fail.

Oh, I guess celebrations are fun. They don't need to be such a big deal, but they are, so might as well celebrate.

I almost kissed a girl tonight right as the clock struck 12, but I acted like a complete fool instead and jerked my hands in front of me and half-yelled "Noooo! I can't!". So instead she kissed the (very) beardy guy on the couch next to her. It's really a shame; I thought she was cute.

Jeez, this is starting to sound like a teenage girl's personal journal, except plenty of people can read it.
Oh well, it's new year's, I'll make an exception and publish this.

Happy New Years!

Snowy, wintry and... happy?

The snow has finally arrived. The real stuff! Not some powdery excuse for la neige that stays on the ground for like 10 seconds and then melts away. That stuff's a tease. No, real, fluffy and shoveable snow!
Of course, according to a couple of my relatives who live in Québec city, the snow I consider to be real here is something they merely scoff at. They've had massive snow banks for at least a couple weeks now, with feet upon feet of snow. Chance of more snow in the coming weeks.

What am I, a weather man?

No, I just think all this snow is rad. See, as I mentioned in an earlier blog post, being surrounded by man-made things everywhere has made this city a pretty ugly place to live. Well, the snow eases this pain somewhat by coating all the artificial stuff everywhere with a layer of crystal perfection.

So seeing snow everywhere reminds me that out there, up high in the sky and elsewhere, the power of Gaia still resides. The unchangeable laws of nature- however much we try to tamper with- still exist and affect even the most nature-proof city dwellers.

And yet I still find myself in front of my computer screen!
I was supposed to go sledding with some buddies, but plans fell through. I wasn't so much excited about the drinking as I was actually being outside with the snow, reminiscing about childhood tobogganing. Mixing exercise-related stuff with booze doesn't make too much sense to me, but I suppose it could have been fun. Oh well.

So I'm wearing a sweater that I got for christmas, and I'm trying to figure out if it would qualify as a candidate to wear to an ugly sweater party. I guess the fact that I'm asking myself that question might undermine the value of my sweater as a present... hmm. Well, it's blue and black and red and it does have some neat buttons and... oh, why don't I just show you so you can judge for yourself.

You know what, it doesn't even matter. I like the sweater, and it keeps me warm, so even though I might wear it to an ugly sweater party, I'd be trolling the party because my wool sweater is rad.

That's all I've got for today.

Shard vs sherd

I had the impulse to draw this when the word "sherd" was stuck in my head.
My TA in Anthropology assures me that "sherd" is an archaeological term meaning a broken piece of  pottery or artifact. For some reason, the word "sherd" annoys me to no end, since it's so close to the word "shard". Why not call it a pot shard instead of a pot sherd? Grrrrrrrrrr.

Tranquility

The worst has gone by/
But I may be in the eye of the storm
The winds blow in the distance and I feel alive/
Better not walk into them again

I find I yearn for tranquility. Tranquility, and some semblance of simplicity.
That doesn't mean that I need to avoid busyness and action; that would be a mistake. In fact, I should probably strive for more busyness and more participation in the world around me. Not because society says I need to be busy, but because it's rewarding to get things done.

Still, it would be nice to be around simple people. Maybe some monks or something. I would probably get bored, since I'm so used to having some external stimulation, but there's definitely something to learn and appreciate in simply being.

I've been told I should try my hand at meditation. I would gain so much from having a regular practice. And it would enhance my quality of life, and probably make me more mindful and more aware of the present. And even if it's only for a few minutes per day, I should still try. But my brain says "No no no! At least look busy! You have things to do! You need to move! You need to read! You need to fix this and that!".

Words words words.
I'll see what I can do about this whole meditation dealio. Exercise is a bit easier for me to do, so I'm walking a lot. Just simple walks, walks for the sake of walking. Mostly silent, and usually at a brisk pace; to get the heart going, you know.

School is a bit of a mess right now. I hope I can fix it. I have two new classes starting in January, and I'm gearing up to take them more seriously.

Bloggity bloggy happy holidays.