The Boatman's Call

delirium

2007-10-08T22:53:00.000-07:00

My travels are still underway. After returning to Canada, I was promptly whisked away to a family reunion and other gatherings. After later spending several weeks in Regina, de-hillbillying myself and hanging out with my sophisticated and contemporary sisters, I continued my trek to explore and look for a place to live. Two days on a bus to Montreal was more pleasant than one would expect. There's plenty of scenery, lots of changing leaves, it's less stressful than a typical day of travel, etc. I'd never seen Ontario before--it looked just like I'd expected with roads full of orange and yellow leaves. To describe further impressions, I will use the longest run-on sentence I may have ever concocted:

If the countries of the world were having a party and Canada was sitting at the bar lonely and forlorn, drowning its sorrows over some margaritas and Malibu-type concoctions, and Europe (a single entity) stumbled over to strike up a conversation--each finding some sort of solace in the other's company, eventually throwing in some small-talk about how much more wonderful things are when measured metrically--before slurring something unintelligible but seemingly charming, then giving way to some messy display of drunken passion, ending with the two of them waking on the coatroom floor, hungover and embarrassed, only to find, several weeks later, that Canada is pregnant and Europe said its name was Eureka and gave a bad phone number......Montreal would be that bastard child.

Montreal is a very cool city. It has a very unique blend of North American and European styles, new and old and French and English architecture. It really doesn't feel at all like Canada. Furthermore, I suspect Quebec to be a province superior in transportation and yogurt technologies. There's something strange about Quebec, though. Apparently, there is an accent so thick it almost sounds like they're speaking another language. Half the time I couldn't understand what anyone was saying. Someone approached me once and said what sounded like "Bonjour, comment appelle tu?" I assumed he was trying to say "Bozo! Come on, I'll pelt you!" So having no other choice, I sprung into action, blinding him with my camera flash and tackling him to the ground before flailing down the street, nearly tripping over his jettisoned crutches in the process. I was lucky to escape unscathed. In my panic I came upon a nice woman with broad shoulders and a five o'clock shadow who took me to a safe place full of ladies in fancy, glittery dress with exotic hairdos and glamorous names. And let me tell you...karaoke like nobody's business!

The city is nice for wandering. I toured the Concordia University campuses, rode a moped up to Mount Royal, ate gourmet poutine with complimentary angioplasty and so on. The "Underground City," expanding over 32km seemed to transcend space and time (more so space), but is more impressive in theory than anything. The city also holds my favourite hostel, run by a wonderful cast of characters.

After about a week I headed back west, spending a night in Ottawa (courtesy of my kind cousinish fellow, Stephen). Most of the wandering was done in the dark hours of the evening, thankfully. Even the most mundane buildings become magical when lit up. It's a strange place with its cold, government-town feel, but still nice.

Toronto is surprisingly comfortable. It has a big, busy, North American metropolitan look to it, but is friendlier than one might expect. Hanging out in the downtown entertainment district, it can be hard to see much more than scrambling consumerism and hollow glamour atop a foundation of corporations and big business, but the city is enticing all the same.

I must now prepare for a night bus to New York. I hope you're enjoying your goings-on. This writing may be the product of delirium due to lack of sleep.

poisoned in amsterdam

2007-07-28T22:54:00.000-07:00

That's right, poisoned! No, there was no partying involved -- this was a strictly a food poisoning. Poisoned by food! The betrayal! The unfortunate expunging of toxins! I will forever curse the name of that restaurant. After a couple of days, when I was able to venture back out, the town was very bizarre but interesting. The downtown area was all lit up and the people seemed very friendly -- ladies from all over the neighbourhood came to wave hello from their glowing little apartments. I figured they must be used to a colder climate because they weren't wearing very much. They seemed happy, regardless. Later, I decided to grab some coffee. You will not believe what I found. From what I can tell...they put oregano in everything! They even sell it by the gram for sky high prices! It seemed strange because they're really not big on pasta. I've heard rumours about some kind of "red light district" and special "coffee shops." I can safely say there's certainly none of that going on there. Just some friendly folks who like their spices.

Further south, the city is much less touristy and has a lot more substance to it. It was nice wandering around though my trip was cut short, first by my extended stay in Berlin and then my surprise illness. All in all, I found the city did not quite agree with me and I found myself relieved to return to London. I decided to spend my last remaining days wandering around the streets of Camden. It boasts a lovely mix of alternative fashions and an incredibly active music scene. Now I have a flight to prepare for and I do not foresee any sleep in the coming couple of days.

berlin is home

2007-07-20T00:48:00.000-07:00

It was night when I arrived in Berlin. It was cool and dreary and wonderful. I immediately had the feeling the massive city was every bit the mecca center it's made out to be. The history of the city is tangible and real. The concentration of artists and creativity is refreshing and spectacular. I once described to someone the sort of ideal aesthetic and atmosphere I would look for in a city. She suggested Berlin. Turns out she was correct.

It's fashion week in Berlin and there was a big fashion/high-society event earlier in and around the Russian embassy, which I hung around to see a bit of. Didn't you know I'm among the fashion industry's foremost elite? Of course, I spent most of my time there past the armed guard and behind the barrier, so as to not take the spotlight away from the lesser celebrities who probably need the attention more than I do. I loathe these things, yet find the insincerity of mingling personalities mildly fascinating.

After wandering the city with a friend I'd met in Prague, we ended up being invited to a sort of bohemian dinner.. a kind of art-community hipster gathering. I would like to describe it as a sort of Warholian mix, though that might be an exaggeration and there was no Velvet Underground (the latin jazz was nice though). The food was quite excellent. I seem to be a magnet for former New Yorkers.

Cycling around Berlin is, well, a joy. It's very much designed for bike travel (I haven't actually ridden a bike in...10 years?) Last night I ended up heading with a couple of roommates to a sort of giant, art-squat-turned-trendy hangout area. The energy of the city is amazing. I'm actually cutting my Amsterdam/London time short so I can spend more time here. It was cool and nice the first couple of days; now it is scorchingly hot, but I will forgive the climate because Berlin is wonderful.

I spent a day out at the concentration camp earlier. A great deal of my time here has been spent studying World War II and the Cold War. I've also embarked on several historical walking tours in the last few days regarding these eras (five if you include the one I did twice).

It turns out I'm not going to be able to change my flight, so I'll be flying back at the end of the month, being taken to a family reunion, then off through Alberta, then a couple of places in Saskatchewan, then taking a very long bus ride to Montreal and probably Toronto to check out the cities and maybe talk to the University faculties about what they can offer me (I figure I'm SO important, they should have to woo me for my enrollment), THEN off to Vancouver/Victoria for similar city-seeing and University investigating. And then back to my former residence. Eventually. Travelling is very good for getting yourself excited about things and realizing how stifled you were in a small town....for instance.

The thought of leaving Europe is very strange and I have mixed feelings. (There will be a bizarre bout of culture shock, I'm sure.) It occurred to me the other day that I am currently without a home and will not return to the Okanagan for any length of time until October. This pleases me and I enjoy the nomadic quality. Tomorrow I'm off to the Netherlands and then to London to prepare for my flight at the end of the month.

Did you know that the cost of housing in Berlin is almost comparable to that of Canada? Bizarre but true. I will return to Berlin--perhaps indefinitely.

planes, trains and automobiles

2007-07-15T01:20:00.000-07:00

It has been requested that I send a long, boring message detailing my recent travels. So I hereby present you with a long, boring message. Please don't hate me.

On Julie's recommendation, I headed to San Sebastian after Barcelona. It was a wonderful town and it felt nice to have a break from the hectic frenzy of the major cities. One thing about Spain...it's open late. It sleeps late. It goes out late. A lot of the dining establishments don't even open until 9pm or so. Then everyone is out wandering the streets, casually going for tapas, dinner, etc. until very, very late. It's very lively. I think there should be one in Canada. I had a good hostel (run by someone resembling a Spanish Bruce Willis with a penchant for practical jokes). It's sort of a beach town and I'd considered surfing, but it was far too expensive, so I spent a couple of hours doing a sort of bodysurfing instead, getting tossed around by great big waves. This was done very close to the shore, resulting in a sort of sand/rock equivalent of road rash, being repeatedly driven into the ground, but fun all the same. If you ever have the opportunity to listen to Julie, I highly recommend it.

After flailing about for a couple of days, trying to figure out how to reach Florence from my new, northern location, I settled on taking a bus to a nearby town and from there taking a last-minute flight to Rome. That's right, Rome. So I got up at the crack of dawn to catch a bus (which I missed, having not realized the vast amount of land I would need to cover from my hostel all the way to the bus station), and caught the next.

Rome is hot. Very hot. I would go so far as to say unnecessarily hot. I would go into the Good Morning Vietnam monologue, but I'm sure you've heard it before. I spent only a couple of days in Rome, which were less positive than they could have been. This was due in large part, of course, by the resurgence of my arch nemesis: the sun. For some time, the sun and I had reached an agreement; it would shine during the day and I would operate mainly at night. This worked quite well until I started travelling and have since been met with a feeling akin to that of an ant under a magnifying glass. My hostel was unpleasantly night-clubesque, though an interesting experience all the same. My stay essentially consisted of me wandering downtown, getting very sick from the sun/heat and finally spending several hours lugging an increasingly hefty backpack around a train station, during a rail-strike, while trying to find someone who knew what train would actually be able to take me to Florence. What I did see was quite amazing, and the history dates so far back it's incredible to see these places still there. Unfortunately, I became bedridden before I had a chance to explore the Vatican. Rome will need to be revisited. Perhaps in the winter. With a companion.

Anyway, I did get finally get to Florence. Florence was wonderful--perhaps one of my favourite cities. It's a gorgeous place and there's so much art and beauty everywhere. Due to accommodation shortages, I ended up staying in a camping area near the edge of town which overlooked the center of the city. One night, I observed what is undoubtedly the most spectacular display of fireworks I've seen, illuminating the Florence skyline.

In Venice, I stayed in a camping area again. I did not explore any galleries, etc, save for one cathedral in the center of town. There are over 400 bridges there. I have no idea how people find their way around--the streets are very labyrinthine. The city was quite touristy, but pretty all the same. One day, it began raining very hard and I stood and watched as the water surrounding the buildings crashed and waved as though it might wash us all away.

Despite the massiveness of the city and large population, Vienna was regarded as very quiet and safe. In fact, it seemed perplexingly well-behaved. I had hoped to see an opera while visiting Vienna as standing tickets are quite cheap; however, it had just recently shut down for the summer. I did spend some time traipsing through Freud's old study, saw where Bram Stoker wrote a fair bit of Dracula, even caught some live Rocky Horror numbers. I went out to the giant ferris wheel (I've completely forgotten the name) one night with a couple of people from my hostel. The wheel itself was not entirely breathtaking, but the surrounding amusement park--both active and almost deserted--was a wonderful sight. There's something very surreal and eerie about an abandoned amusement park. Driverless bumper cars, empty rollercoasters, ticket-takers resembling mannequins insides their neon booths. Frozen in time and full of ghosts.

By the time I reached the Old Town area of Prague and saw hordes of tourists flooding through rows of chain stores, souvenir shops and Czech hot dog stands, I realized I was very tired. After seeing so many worldclass galleries, etc in such a short space of time, one needs a break to process and digest. I have made a point of not seeing the National Gallery. I did, however, stumble upon a photo gallery by Jan Saudek which was quite superb and enjoyable and a nice surprise. Had I more time in the Czech Republic, I would make an excursion to one of the nearby towns which are less visited and likely more authentic, though I need to move on due to my recently developed deadline. Still, I enjoy Prague. My hostel is located outside of the city center, away from the high-traffic areas and it's nice to wander around in. The restaurants are nice and inexpensive and the trams run quite regularly. The beautiful architecture lives up to its reputation as some of the most untouched in Europe.

I came upon the most amazing club in Prague. It's designed as a sort of Mad Maxian, post-apocalyptic, industrial place. Words cannot do it justice. While I was there, I saw a band with a funk/psychedelic electric sitar rigged through a wah-wah and a rack mount, backed by an incredibly solid drum/bass duo. This was followed by a DJ/African percussion duo which was also quite good. On the lower level, another performance area saw another group playing. The average quality of music at public performances here is very high. Anyway, if you happen to find yourself in Prague, it's called the Cross Club. Bring clean clothes because you may soil yourself upon arriving. I'm serious. Bring clean clothes.

That's all I'm going to bother writing about. You've read this far; go have a rest or something. I hope you've been somewhat entertained. Just be glad I'm not going to make you sit through pictures.

the spainiest of spain

2007-06-14T20:04:00.000-07:00

My Parisian adventures have come to an end and the ones since have been entertaining and not entirely without incident. Recently, I've ended up being unintentionally shuttled off to a random town in the French country-side, spending a night on a sidewalk and I can no longer walk without limping (all unrelated)... and, yes, I am still enjoying myself.

My last few days in Paris, I spent a decent amount of time around the Luxembourg Gardens. At one point of longing for familiarities, I opted to see a film: "La Faille" (Subtitled, not dubbed) I'm not sure what it's called in English, but it's starring Anthony Hopkins and Ryan Gosling. It was enjoyable and seemed strangely surreal. You also learn a lot of new French words this way. I went up the Eiffel Tower one night (actually my birthday--mildly bizarre) and stayed there for a few hours until dark when the city lit up. I began to enjoy attempting to speak French.

After a 24-hour trek through France and Spain (NEVER get on the wrong car--this is very important) I arrived in Madrid. It's difficult not to compare cities; having no expectations for Spain, I was quite pleasantly surprised. Madrid was much warmer (figuratively as well as literally) than Paris or London and the atmosphere was much more lively. I wouldn't have been entirely surprised if a party had broken out at any given moment. Speaking Spanish is an interesting challenge--French is at least familiar even when not entirely understood. The Reina Sofia is, of course, wonderful (and Dali's work is much more satisfying than that in the Dali Espace Montmartre in Paris).

Barcelona is, as one might imagine, seemingly consumed by nightlife. The architecture is awe-inspiring--it's definitely a gorgeous city. I've spent most of my time wandering through Old Town, but even the newer areas are very well designed. La Ramblas at night is very interesting. Catalan is the official language in Barcelona, but Spanish seems to be sufficient.

I had originally considered heading out to the Cote d'Azur, but had decided against it. Julie has, however, convinced me to make an excursion out to San Sebastian for a couple of days before heading to Italy. Travelling through major cities is very enjoyable, but I find myself getting worn down, constantly on the go. I will look forward to a couple of days of good beach-times.

I swam in the sea today. It was so cold I was the only one in (it wasn't that bad by Canadian standards--you'd just hear a whole chorus of "Well, it's warm once you get in there!") The beaches are quite lovely and I enjoy the vacant horizon (and are apparently at war with my ravaged feet who are not accustomed to the jagged terrain on which they must plant themselves).

Salt water is really gross. If someone were to offer you a glass of freshly-scooped salt water, it would be best to decline.

It's getting more into tourist season and it's starting to get harder to find places to stay (so much for spontaneity) so I may end up camping in Rome. Food is always good. Sangria, banana juice, tapas, and yet more bread. When I was in Paris, I discovered Nutella (it had somehow eluded me all these years). Hazelnut chocolate in the form of a sandwich spread is a dangerous thing.

That concludes my incoherent update. I hope it was informative, thought provoking and catalytic in creating stricter environmental protocols. I must now go to bed.

paris: beau mais fatiguant

2007-05-30T15:18:00.000-07:00

It's raining in Paris. Actually, it's been quite dreary since I arrived. I'm not really complaining since I'd much rather have cool rain than scorching heat, though I haven't done quite as much exploring on foot as I would otherwise. The city is very beautiful and a kind of interesting comparison to London as they're both very unique cities. There's a bit more style here, a bit more attitude. It has a slightly grungier aesthetic in regard to the buildings and streets, but nothing overly notable. I enjoy the lack of giant grocery stores and the availability of bakeries/butcher shops/cafés/etc every few feet. The food is definitely very fresh and much less prepackaged. I've been living mainly on bread, cheese, wine and fruit for the past couple of days.

I think I learned more French in the first couple days here than I did in several years of school. The city is fairly walkable and the Metro is easy to get around in, perhaps only slightly less so than London's. The Louvre was a definite highlight. Trés magnifique! I'm heading back there today to see a bit more. I'll be heading to Spain in a few days (either Madrid or Barcelona, I can't remember which one first--I've been too busy with Paris). I'll see if I can muddle through some Spanish. It's my birthday soon and I kind of feel like I should do something though I'm really not sure what. I'll probably end up wandering through the streets until I decide to head in.

Hostelling is interesting; the hostels vary considerably and it's strange having neither privacy nor companionship, though you still meet nice people now and then.

I'll have to keep this short, partly due to the bane of my existence: french keyboards. That anyone would employ the use of a different style of keyboard than the one I happen to be familiar with is unconscionable! Well, maybe not....but it takes forever to type anything and my internet access is limited.

waiting for the train

2007-05-24T03:04:00.000-07:00

It's 3am. I'm staying up all night to catch a train to Paris (Not quite as romantic as it sounds, but it's still pretty cool in principle) as I didn't want to disturb this evening's roommates. The tube shuts down at midnight, so I'll need to wander through buses to get to the station. I still don't know how to use Paris public transit, but I'm sure it will be easy enough once I'm there. After a week of running around frantically through London, I'm hoping to be able to have more of a laid-back experience for the next few days. I will look forward to sleep...and also Paris. Let me know if there are any recommendations for getting around, etc. Also let me know if there is any wackiness happening.

panic on the streets of london

2007-05-21T06:02:00.000-07:00

The trek to my London hostel seemed a bit of a marathon, but all went well. Due to lack of internet access, you'll have to settle for messages scrawled frantically on a public computer. London is quite absosmurfly amazing. Amazing...and very very expensive. I've spent the last couple of days walking just about non-stop. I went around and took in a great deal of the obligatory landmarks and so on. Westminster Abbey is particularly wonderful. Earlier today, I went up in the London Eye, ate lunch in park and headed to a performance of Blood Brothers. I must say, my version was put to shame. I'm thinking about heading out to the Camden markets tomorrow. It's very interesting seeing the city transform, somewhat dramatically, throughout the day: mid-afternoon comings-and-goings, the mayhem that ensues when everyone gets off work, and the late evening energy. Much of the city is very refreshing--the diversity and history and existence of culture. It gives the appearance of being very organized and orderly. I'm always being watched and being reminded of being watched. There are always voices telling me to do things (no, not those voices--other people hear them too). I'm not certain yet whether the order is merely an illusion. Getting around can be a bit difficult -- the tube is very easy to use, but I find the streets confusing. I enjoy the politeness of the city officials, though I find the general London attitude to be a bit peculiar -- something I can't quite put my finger on yet. I hope you're doing well in your various endeavours and such.

I may need new feet when I return.

one day, you'll refer to me as grampula

2006-12-14T06:49:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about how it never really feels like Halloween. Having a penchant for theatricality, makeup, costumes, gothic styles, eerie themes and so on, it would seem natural that I would be very inclined to fully and completely get into the spirit of such an event. When you're a kid, you live for these things. The elementary schools are seasonally themed all year and it's easy to intensely feel the approach of any holiday. You talk about it with your friends, you convince your parents to decorate, you live and breathe the excitement.

As an adult, you're busy and too wrapped up in things to notice something like Halloween. If you don't have anyone around for reciprocal encouragement, it's even worse. That's not to say you can't enjoy its approach; if you really go out of your way to make the entire month feel like Halloween, it certainly can. If you have the conviction to dress up almost every day, turn your apartment into a lair of atmospheric ghoulishness, etc. it can feel more than ever like Halloween. As the years go by, the increasing amount of effort it takes is certainly worth it, but somehow I've felt too apathetic to realize it to its full potential. I believe the key is really just finding like-minded individuals to get excited with. As I'm sure you'll agree, it's not nearly as much fun dressing up by yourself.. but don't let that stop you.

Perhaps some future Halloween I'll be wearing my vampire dentures, my hand-knit cape and my black Depends, slowly swooping and wheezing around the grounds of the seniors' home. If the nurses don't come to medicate me to a more serene state, maybe I'll inspire the rest of them. It's never too late, after all.

are you serious? hopefully not

2006-12-14T02:04:00.000-08:00

I think fall is my favourite season. Early fall. Plenty of rain and beautiful, dreary days alongside warm, comfortable ones. The weather doesn't confine you to the indoors like in the dead of winter, nor does it give you the scorching feeling of an ant under a magnifying glass. There's definitely something more atmospheric about it than the spring. The arrival of the fall also means the near approaching of Halloween.

I think there should be a Halloween every month. Sure people would lose their enthusiasm, but it really is a great experience when you pay attention. I think back to a couple of years ago when a coworker of mine decided to casually throw a hat and a couple of props together, don a moustache and show up at work. The costume was not important, but the fact that she took this opportunity to have some fun and not be self-conscious about it illustrates the antithesis of what so many of us consistently do wrong: we take ourselves seriously.

I attended a seminar a few years back which involved a speaker addressing this very subject. Recounting her decision to go grocery shopping while wearing the old "glasses with fake nose and moustache" gag, she expressed that kids get it, while adults are uptight and alarmed by it.

I'm not going to try to make some revelatory point about this; it's common sense, and doing so would only make me sound arrogant. What I'll say, though, is that while I'd call myself fairly sentimental, I loathe tradition. As I see it, tradition for tradition's sake is creeping ridiculously close to idiocy. I don't understand how so many people think their lives are supposed to be a certain way, people are supposed to do certain things and the question to concern yourself with most is "What would the neighbours think?" Life isn't supposed to be anything. The world isn't going to grind to a halt because you did something out of the ordinary. So even if you're not able to appreciate the absurd in everything, at least enjoy yourself on Halloween.

the adventures of linux and me

2006-10-13T22:33:00.000-07:00

I've switched to Linux. Not completely, but for a good chunk of my computing, that's what I'm using. After receiving a copy of Ubuntu's live-CD, I was quite taken with the uncluttered interface and the general ease of use. After spending quite awhile contemplating about taking the plunge into Linux, yesterday I decided to partition my secondary hard drive and give it a go. The installation seemed pretty straightforward and at the end, I rebooted.

Oh crap. Apparently Error 21 indicates that it can't find the drive. At this point my computer was rendered inoperable as it could not boot into either system. My only solace was the ability to access the live-CD, turning my computer into a RAM drive, for access to the internet and instant messaging in hopes of solving my situation. I altered the partitions, checked the forums for suggestions and poked around in the BIOS, all to no avail. After heading to my place of work to search for some kind of Linux guru, I returned with an interested friend and we went to work.

"What if...we simply turn off the primary hard drive and switch the secondary hard drive to 'auto', hopefully bypassing any Windows files and going straight into Linux? ..Oh, now we can't even load the live-CD. Hmm... All right, lets go back to the forum."

In the end, in a brilliant stroke of luck/common sense, we discovered that the problem was staring us in the face. The problem was in the BIOS -- essentially equivalent of flipping the "on" switch. So.. yes.. that seemed a little embarrassing. But nevertheless, I now have Linux! I think we'll be happy together.

romance of the tilde

2006-09-30T03:51:00.000-07:00

I know a girl who uses a tilde. What is a tilde? Why, it's one of these "~" squiggly-looking punctuation marks located above the TAB key on your keyboard. I would attempt to explain what it is used for, however its plethora of uses makes it very difficult to summarize. If you're so indescribably curious that you just can't help yourself, you may read about it here at Wikipedia, or for all sorts of geeky enjoyment focusing more on the computer-programming aspects, see History of the Tilde. Nevermind that, however.

From what I can tell, she has her own use for the tilde. She generally uses it in closing, when ending a communication. "Bye~" Is it the traditional, proper use of punctuation? No but, dammit, I think it's charming. Of course it's partially due to the context it's used in; the communication prior to it's use is always enjoyable and appreciated. But there's something about the appearance of the symbol itself--particularly how it flows out after the text. Upon seeing it's use, I immediately conjure up a vivid image of a watercolor painting in motion. Imagine a woman in a red, flowing dress, under a beautiful blue sky, standing at the edge of a high cliff in an almost desert-like setting. With her arm outstretched to the end of the world, handkerchief in hand, she raises and lowers her wrist ever so slightly, almost waving goodbye while this small piece off cloth flutters in the wind. There's so much longing, reaching out toward what can never be grasped. Loosening her grip, the handkerchief is carried out and away, dancing on the wind, both lonely and free, and she is left longing.

If you're boring and unimaginative (or perhaps just gag on my imagery), I present this rationalization for your consideration: In a dictionary, a tilde can be used to represent the root of a word (ie. ~ment to indicate wonderment). In other words, the tilde is taking the place of what is not written; therefore, could we also assume that it could have a similar function at the end of the word? How about not representing the root of the word, but representing all the words that have gone unwritten? This is the most rational explanation I could muster up, however my romanticism is much more fanciful than this!

In appearance, the tilde resembles that handkerchief blowing in wind; used in the right context, a word or phrase is morphed from a simple "goodbye" to a wondrous expression of sorrow and yearning desire. It can extend your casual or heartfelt written words of parting to something so much more meaningful.

While you have written your words on the screen, the tilde takes the extra task of writing the unwritten words on the pages of the heart. This is the beauty I see in the tilde.

a lack of real spice in your life

2006-09-26T03:39:00.000-07:00

Geez, I have one noisy neighbour. I suppose I might not be much better but....no, I'm sure he doesn't have things falling off the shelves due to the obnoxious power of my subwoofer. I'm considering whether or not it would pay to have a second blog. I suppose this might just make for two jumbled and disjointed blogs, or maybe I'll post all my blogs to one and only certain entries on the other. Maybe I'll wait until the new Blogger is out of Beta and I can just have one blog and password-protect the blasted thing. hmm.. I was looking into making a password-protected page for my site via GoDaddy. Turns out I would have to do it through an .htaccess file configured with the Linux server setup. I really don't know anything about Linux, so after looking at a help page I decided it wasn't worth it.

Today was my first day in my new department "on the floor". It went all right, I suppose. People are getting the hang of it and it's starting to seem like a nice change of pace from our previous department. I've gone from starting at 3:30 last week to 1:30 this week and will end up having to switch to 4:00am starting next week. It seemed strange to be at work so early (this is the earliest shift I've worked), though when I got home I sat and did nothing for several hours, which brings us to this point. I feel weird--I don't know if it's good or bad--I think it's just boredom.

"They said there's too much caffeine in your bloodstream and a lack of real spice in your life"

Would it be tiresome of me to pepper these things with endless song quotes? I was asked why I was still working at the same place. I told of my tentative plan (or is it more of an idea? an intention?) to leave town in the spring. Both traveling and schooling need to be worked out after Christmas. She asked why I didn't get a different job. I just really don't know what else to look for. I've pretty well accepted that there are no interesting jobs available around these parts (none that pay well anyway). Maybe that's an unadventurous and dull mindset. (pessimistic, I know) I don't know if it's just today, but now that I feel challenged by my department, I don't feel so much like I must leave. It's almost a predictable little adventure again. Maybe it's just the fact that it's the fall and I'm going into hibernating mode in my strange, heteromorphic world. I'm so much reminded of last year at this time. Is it the weather? Probably. Maybe it's the loneliness, though that was never new. The winter was so strange, and the fall was a curious precursor itself. This time last year I was just beginning to disassociate from people I thought weren't doing me any good. Maybe I should suck it up and talk to people at random. "Hey you!....uh.......Carry on." I hate small talk, so why go there? Wow, these things always meander quite a ways and end with me babbling unintelligibly about things I could write about so much more eloquently if I wanted to put some effort into it. Alas.... Free-flowing stream of consciousness-style typing is all I have the motivation to give for now.

New Blog Page

2006-09-25T00:03:00.000-07:00

So I've decided to add this blog page to my website. Why not just use the updates page like I've been meaning to for years? Well, I'm hoping that the convenience of a blogging tool will encourage me to post more often. I may combine a blog page with my updates page as it's a little unnecessary having them both, but for now we'll see how it goes.