Busy as the day is long....

Bike riding is no longer a pleasureable way to travel. The temperature has finally dipped and stayed below 10 degrees, we have had snow warnings the past two nights, and some brief flurry activity last night on the bike ride home. I am supposed to be in the downtown location by now, but that has yet to happen. Apparently the next weekend I work, three weeks from now will see me out in the mall for Friday's shift, sat and sun downtown and Monday back out at the mall, and then that is supposed to be the norm until xmas comes.There have been major life changes, some sad, some good, some amazing. School is incredible, and frustrating, and exciting and dull and... well you name it... mostly exhausting. Trying to support myself by work outside of the program is taking its toll and we are only a month and a half in. I feel very connected to others on a personal level, I feel aliented from others on a wider level, and I miss my friends from home every now and then. Oddly enough, though, I don't miss home itself. A week today I am in Ottawa again to write the civil service exams, and to spend time with Skeptigal which I am very much looking forward to. After the exams there will be a trip to Pub Italia to continue my quest to drink my way around the world via their beer menu, and to meet up with Jeff and Brenda. After that a day of relaxation and cuddling, and then back to Kingston to being an insane schedule of marking, paper writing, presentaion preparing, exam invijilating and work. Back to Ottawa the following weekend to scout locations with skeptigal etc and visit the family. The back again to Kingston to present the aforementioned presentation, work some more and research research research. Perhaps there will be some sleeping somewhere alogn the way. Jill will be coming in the first week of November to collect the remainder of her things, and it will be nice to see her and see how she is doing, and maybe meet the mysterious friend of hers.I am loving the fall here, though it is damper than I thought it would be, and I am loving the grad program though it is making my head hurt more than I thought it would and I am in love which carries me through the darkest times... Life is good =) Now if we can eliminate the bike ride, and cut down the external work hours, everything will be perfect =)

Frustrated Inc

Frustrated, Incorporated
Well I know just what you need
I might just have the thing
I know what you'd pay to see

Wow,it is amazing how things can quickly be set off-kilter. Today started as any other day, well not just any other day, but a fairly standard day. Rousing myself into the morning, coffee made, quick phone call to help keep the day happy, and then into both school-like productiveness, and household productiveness. I accomplished much. Dishes are done, this weeks web postings for school are 3/4's complete, I am ahead in my readings. I check the mail and in it there is notification that for my last year of my BA I wsa again appointed to the Dean's List. The extra groud beef is browning as I type. The weekends lasagna is portioned and wrapped and freezing, and I made it to the bank to deposit my check.
When I did so, however, I noticed that I was short, by an amount of $220.70, form my account. This is.... problematic... as rent will be coming out any day now.
So I rushed myself back home (I know my tenses are all screwed up here) and discovered upon phoning my bank that my previous paycheck (not the one I just deposited, but the one before) was returned because my employer's account was NSF. This... concerns me and of course, I cannot find my employer to ask about it, he is apparently inbetween locations. What concerns me more is that it is now too late to apply for any of the on-campus jobs, I have missed the deadline by one week. So if it turns out that my current employers finances are such that I have to worry about every paycheck and I should find a new job, I have missed the window of opportunity because I opted to stay with this employer out of loyalty, then things are about to get very tight.
I feel angry, I feel a little betrayed, and I feel a lot worried. One should not have to wonder if one's paycheck is going to bounce. A phone call right now from my employer would go a really long way to fixing this mood. Hopefully the phone will ring before I head off to work a shift for him this evening.

need another 12 hours in each day

Ok so this week I will hve worked 32 hours at the shop, been in classes for 10 hours, and put in 15 hours of study and writing time. Working while going to Grad school is teh suck! It is supposed to balance out now and I will be working 20 hours in one week and then have one week off, and that should continue through the rest of the term, but it has made this week extremely busy and extremely exhausting. The grad school part is amazingly enjoyable, the having to continue to be a poor student is not =( I am a little frayed around the edges this morning as I sit here at work, reading yet another set of articles and contemplating what to write about for my grad studies posting and am having trouble keeping focus. I really want it to be six o'clock so I can go home to my cosy apartment, curl up with a hot toddy, perhaps read for fun for a while or play a computer game and hopefully chat on the phone until I am ready for slumber. I should probably cook something in there too that I can take to work with me tomorrow. With any luck the rain will have stopped for the bike ride home, the ride to work wasn't bad, but it wasn't what I would call fun either. And hopefully the ride to work tomorrow will be less wet as well.
I can;t believe we are approaching the end of September already. If this iis any indication of how the rest of the year is going to go, then I should be living in Ottawa in no time! The big hope is to finish the course work, spend the month of May researching and then move into the big city to finish writing. I hope to have the paper finished in totality by the end of June, which may or may not be reasonable. It is only a fifty page paper and I should be able to tie my program studies into the Master's essay with little difficulty. SO I say now anyway. It would help a whole bunch if I had a concept more than something on New Religious Movements. Hopefully a little more reading next week that is not directly tied to course work will offer a little illumination.
Hmmm I think I need a Buffy fix..

Today was the meet and greet day for the program. We met the head of the department, met with the graduate coordinator, and my fellow students. Following the afternoon's bureaucracy, we all went out to dinner at a lovely Indian restaurant that is very close to my house. The food was nice, though I have certainly had better, but the company was excellent. The class is comprised of a very diverse group of people who hail from Peru to South Carolina to Washington to Egypt to all over Canada. Each has their own individual research areas and class discussions should be quite enjoyable. I am very much looking forward to hearing their views on the subject material, and on offering my own two cents worth. I will be TA'ing one course this semester and one next semester, on top of taking three courses (maybe four if I am required to add a second language in order to meet my program requirements) It is going to be busy, very busy. I am not sure how I will be able to keep my job at the inkjet place, but I definitely have to have that income in order to survive, so I will have to find a way to make it work. I can always sleep next year :p The courses themselves all seem extremely interesting and I am definitely looking forward to sinking my teeth into the material. In fact, I have already started, which based on the kind of schedule I am looking at seems to blessing... The three courses and the job seem to be survivable, adding the language course into the mix seems to make it prohibitively difficult. Maybe I will have already done enough French that the requirement will be met *fingers crossed* though it definitely cannot hurt for me to do more French. At any rate, I should have an answer on that front tomorrow, for now it is late and I am in need of rest...

What's wrong with the world mama?
People living like aint got no mamas
I think the whole worlds addicted to the drama
Only attracted to the things that bring you trauma
Overseas yeah we tryin to stop terrorism
But we still got terrorists here livin
In the USA the big CIA the Bloodz and the Crips and the KKK
But if you only have love for your own race
Then you only leave space to discriminate
And to discriminate only generates hate
And if you hatin you're bound to get irate
Yeah madness is what you demonstrate
And that's exactly how anger works and operates
You gotta have love just to set it straight
Take control of your mind and meditate
Let your soul gravitate to the love y'all



Overseas bombs are exploding in Turkey, in Afghanistan, in Iraq. People are dying by the tens, by the twenties every day. Canadians are fighting in an American style "War on Terror" where they are dying, Afghans are being killed by Canadians, Afghans are being killed by Afghans. Muslims killing Muslims, Muslims killing Christians, Christians killing Muslims. In Palestine, there are Muslims killing Muslims, Muslims killing Jews, Jews killing Muslims and Christians dying in the crossfire. In Iraq, Muslims try to kill each other and try to kill the international forces, and the American and Briish troops. Throughout the Western World people live lives of excess, and ignore the suffering in their own backyards, yet scream sactimoniously about the abuse of human rights and the importance of democracy. Ask those in the Ninth Quarter in New Orleans if they know where the love is. Ask those dying in suicide bombings or those caught in friendly fire if they know...

It just ain't the same all ways have changed
New days are strange is the world the insane?
If love and peace so strong
Why are there pieces of love that don't belong
Nations dropping bombs
Chemical gases filling lungs of little ones
With ongoing suffering
As the youth die young
So ask yourself is the loving really strong?
So I can ask myself really what is going wrong
With this world that we living in
People keep on giving in
Makin wrong decisions
Only visions of them livin and
Not respecting each other
Deny thy brother
The wars' going on but the reasons' undercover
The truth is kept secret
Swept under the rug
If you never know truth
Then you never know love
Where's the love y'all?(I don't know)
Where's the truth y'all?(I don't know)
Where's the love y'all?




A paedophile was extradited from Thailand because of his supposed involvement in the Jon Benet Ramsey case. DNA evidence clears him of those charges. How come his penchant for child porn, and his residence in a country where such crimes against children are rampant, and where he was a school teacher were not enough to extradite him? How come it took a celebrity murder case?

I feel the weight of the world on my shoulder
As I'm getting older y'all people get colder
Most of us only care about money makin
Selfishness got us followin the wrong direction
Wrong information always shown by the media
Negative images is the main criteria
Infecting their young minds faster than bacteria
Kids wanna act like what the see in the cinema
Whatever happened to the values of humanity
Whatever happened to the fairness and equality
Instead of spreading love, we're spreading anomosity
Lack of understanding, leading us away from unity
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feeling under
That's the reason why sometimes I'm feeling down
It's no wonder why sometimes I'm feeling under
I gotta keep my faith alive, until love is found

In Austria eight years ago, a little girl was abducted. She was ten years old. She was kept in a dungeon by some semblance of a human being. The psychologists are talking Stolkholm Syndrome, CNN's headline reads "Dungeon Girl Defends Captor" This little girl's, now young woman's trauma, is now only sensationalist hard copy. It makes me despair for the world...

People killing people dying
Children hurtin you hear them crying
Can practice what you preach
Would you turn the other cheek?
Father father father help us
Send some guidance from above
Cause people got me got me questioning
Where is the love?(where is the lovex3)(the lovex2)

The biggest news story today on CBC was not any talk of the international situation, but instead of the delayed NASA launch. This huge investment in exploring life beyond our planet, in finding ways to live off of the planet. Would we not be better off spending that money fixing the planet we already live on? Would we not be better off ending hunger, finding a cure for AIDS, for Cancer? Why is it so important to explore the boundaries off planet? So many people suffer here every day and yet the big focus is on how terrible it is for the astronaut who has waited 14 years for a RETURN to space to have to wait maybe a month more. We have some pretty fucked up priorities.

We only got one world, one world.
thats all we got one world, one world.
There's something wrong with it, something wrong with it.
Something's wrong with the world world world...
We only got one world one world
That's all we got,

Seems to me that we need to level it all, drop all foreign debts, and local debts, offer free education to every single person. Teach the ethics of sharing, of caring, of loving, and of respect. Respect for our fellow human beings, respect for our planet, respect for the forces of nature and maybe then we can find that love again... I really do believe we had it once, I really do, and that humanity has lost it somewhere along the way. Maybe if we could just get back to the point before nationhood, before religious differentiation and denomination, before skin colour mattered worth a damn.... before patriarchal societies removed women from their rightful places of power and awe... Maybe we could right this sinking ship...

Sometimes I feel like I need to be more involved in being a part of the solution instead of part of the problem =(

eerily calm

There is a strange quiet in the house and a strange calm that has settled over both Jill and I. We talked and started sorting out who was getting what, what she was selling to me, what she is selling to the public etc. She has an exit date now, she will be leaving the apartment on the weekend of Sept. 10th and heading either to Oakville or KW, situation depending. her sister is going to come down with a truck, so she won;t have to rent one, and she will move off into her new life, wherever that will take her. I wish her well on her journey and I hope she finds happiness in whatever she chooses to do. We both talked today about how weird it seems. We both feel like we should be upset, and yet, neither one of us is. Certainly there have been emotional moments but they largely seem to be behind us and now we are just going through the motions of sorting everything out so that there can be some sort of closure for us both. It is a happy / sad feeling. I am glad she is heading off to pursue her dreams, and I am glad that we are able to part as friends, but it is a sad thing too, we have been living together for the last year and a half or there abouts, and you can;t spend that amount of time with someone without some residual emotions. There will also be an adjustment period, once the house is empty. It will be interesting, somewhat exciting, as it has been a long time since I have lived alone, and it will be lonely, as it has been a long time since I lived alone. The last time, really, was in Calgary and there were so many negative things that happened to me there that it is difficult to guage just how lonely it will be.

I shouldn't complain so much about Calgary. Yes, it was a horrible time in my life, physically, mentally, socially, emotionally... but it lead to two of the very best things to ever have happened to me. It started the pinwheel in motion for me to go back to University, and discover some of my hidden talents, and the other... well the other is deserving of many entries, so I shan't go into it this evening. But I digress...

The next little while is going to be extremely interesting in my life, and for the most part, I am looking forward to it =)

weight loss and weirdness

Ok, so I have been in Kingston for 2.5 months, and since I started working (read since I started cycling to work) I have lost 18 pounds and counting. The scales read 238 this morning before I left the house. This is the first time since I moved home from Calgary that I have weighed less than 240. My shorts now hang off me in that bad white rapper way. There has been some dietary change, but not a concerted effort to be dieting, just regualr exercise, which is somehting I simply have not been physically capable of in the last few years. I have had to use the cane once or twice since I have started cycling agian but nto very often and only if I know I am going to be walking for an hour plus. It still feels odd to walk without it, like I am forgetting something every time I leave the house. and walking is still awkward, as my body tries to adjust to carrying its own weight again. When I am walking any distance without the cane I feel a little off balance, like I have an inner ear infection. I don't have any such issues on the bike, however.
That being said, the last couple of rides have really physically hurt (especially the ride home last night in the thunderstorm). My back is doing ok, though a little sore, but my legs are bearing the brunt of the punishment. I find if I miss a day riding at all, I really feel it on the next ride and at the same time, after riding three or four days straight, my legs just want to stop. The numbly tinglys in my hands come back by the third or fourth day of riding too and don't go away really until I don't ride for a day. It poses an interesting dilemna, for on the one hand, the weight coming off me is an excellent thing, and I feel better than I have in years. On the other hand, I worry that I might be beating myself up a little. The bike really is the only feasible way to get to and from work. I can ride for the 20 - 30 mins and be there ready to go, or I can walk for twenty minutes, cacth a bus, transfer to another bus after a 7 minute ride and take that bus to work, for another seven minute ride. Or, conversely I can catch one bus down to Princess, transfer to another there, take the transfer to the Kingston Centre and get another transfer to catch the seven minute ride to work. Needless to say I am unimpressed with the bus system here in the friendly town of Kingston.
Home life is odd. That is really the only way to describe it. Jill and I have slid into being reluctant roomates while she looks for a place to live. We are getting along ok but we are definitely wary of infringing on the others territory, and being as it is a one bedroom apartment, that territory is very small. She has the living room and I content myself with living in the bedroom as much as I can. Hopefully she will find a place that she is happy with soon so that we can both move through to the next step in recovery from our ended relationship. It is impossible to do while we are under the same roof. We are friendly and civil to each other, and each of us wants to make sure that the other is doing ok, but it is odd and awkward.
Other than the weirdness, things are ok. I am heading out tomorrow night to meet a friend of Tattoist Krys (http://www.troubleboundtattoos.com) who lives around the corner. it will be my first non-couple social activity in Kingston. He is having me over for dinner and then a bunch of his friends are coming over to watch a movie (Rent, I believe, I am such a sucker for a musical *grin*) I am nervous about it and excited about it too. It will be nice to have some buddies here in the city. Then next week, Pat and Liza-Ann and Mark will be coming for a visit, and I am very excited about that. The week after that will Mom and Dad coming for a visit for a couple of days, and that is excellent as well. Then it is time for orientation and registration and the start of the program, which I am immensely looking forward to, though a little concerned at the prospective workload.
That's all the update news for now...

beginning from the end

So last night we had the talk about who is staying, who is going, who gets what, who needs what. It was a surreally calm affair. No doubt an undercurrent of emotion but mostly we agreed it just felt weird. Mostly I am just glad decisions are being made that will benefit the both of us. I want her to be happy, she is good people. I want her to be healthy, happy, and progressive in her life so she can find something truly rewarding and someone truly deserving.

We both agreed that we had different visions and concepts regarding where this was going and what we wanted and somewhere over the last year we fell not only form the same page, but as it turns out, we were reading different books.

I will be staying in the apartment, she will be looking, she will take whatever it is she needs without leaving me stranded. We decided on what amicably. I will need to get a microwave, a loveseat, and a toaster or toaster oven. I will build her a computer, give her the DVD player, etc. The kitchen stuff will get split down the middle, and she gets the AC unit and well, it goes on... it is all very mundane. It is all material and strangely unimportant and at the same time it is very important to me that she take whatever it is she needs to be comfortable, even if it means sacrificing my own comfort. Part of that is probably guilt, but more so it is because I know I can manage at any comfort level, I have lived at a lot of different stages of comfort and I know I will eventually find peace with whatever I have or don't have.
I could however, use some advice on some spiritual cleansing for both myself and the apartment. Send it my way if you can =)

and now the grande finale

Jill is leaving. Our relationship is done. I won;t get into the details here because I know it upsets her, but the plan as it stands now is for her to find an apartment or maybe move somewhere else, I don't really know, I just know that it she wont be living here anymore and I ache inside, for my pain and for her pain and I am sorry it had to end this way

Depression Diet Plan is in effect!

Well the revolving door that is in control of my moods has made a definite swing for toward the negative. I have hit the shakey point of not being in controil of my tears or emotions. Things at home are not good, things in my head are not good, and the time cannot tick fast enough to turn into September where I can use my escapist tactics to sink fully into the program. I hurt inside, and it is difficult to drag myself out to work today. there are moments when everything is fine, and then there are moments of panic. I know this is what the meds ar efor, and I have broken down to take an ativan, but I sure as hell can't stand having to do so. at any rate, keep your fingers crossed for me, say a prayer if that is your thing, but keep a thought or two for me for the next few days please...

weary

I feel old. Today I just feel really old, and tired. I am not sure of the root of it, just an over-all mental and physical exhaustion. The bike ride yesterday in 40 degree heat may have some part in it, as I am sure, does the muscle relaxant before bed last night, but even more than that I jeust feel burnt out. There is no real reason for me to be feeling this way that I can pin-point. I guess my mind is working in overdrive mode, even when I am unaware that it is happening.

Beginnings III

The person in the next room had obviously decided not to accept his fate as calmly as Thomas had. They were throwing something against the glass panel set in the doorframe. The glass itself was safety glass and had wire run through it to prevent such an attempt at escape but with enough force, the glass itself could shatter and then it would just be a matter of trying to find a way to bend the wire out of the panel. Thomas considered this course of attack as the crashes repeated from the next room. Finally, he heard the glass break, followed by a voice of his inmate neighbour. The voice held a jubilant note but it was overshadowed by a crazed quiver of fear. Obviously, whoever it was had not counted on the wiring holding through their barrage. As the cries went up, Thomas again slid into memory.

He had sat there in the alley, staring at the bottle, complete with the requisite paper bag. He laughed at the stereotype he suddenly found himself a part of; homeless, alone and out of options. All he wanted was to fall asleep and not wake again. He cracked the top of the bottle and took a long draught from the cool glass. The taste was not at all what he was expecting and not at all as unpleasant as he had expected. It wasn’t exactly good, but neither was it horrible. He drank deeply a second time, this time a little too fast and found himself coughing back up half of what he had drank. As Thomas recovered, he took note of his surroundings for the first time. Directly across from him was a brick doorway that had been closed in. At one point, perhaps, it had been the back entrance or service entrance to one of the many night clubs in this area. Now it was simply a barrier. A little further down the alley was a fire escape that was rusted and quite obviously broken at the joint where the ladder met the landing. It swayed slightly in the night air, creaking with a noise that seemed to obliterate the sounds of the city that was all around him. Below the fire escape sat a dumpster that had seen better days. The hinged top was nowhere to be seen and the sliding door on the front had been beaten into a shape that was almost unrecognizable from its former self.

“Much like himself,” thought Thomas.

He took another long pull from the bottle and then glanced up. Light was spilling down from the apartments that sat on top of the bars and storefronts. There were no laundry lines in this part of town, he noted. The balconies/ fire escapes were bare, and many of the windows were open. The sounds of different types of music and television shows all filtered down to Thomas’ ears, even overriding the groaning metallic creak of the broken ladder. One sound in particular seemed to ring louder than any of the others. It was the sound of a woman’s voice. She was softly singing along to something coming from the stereo. He didn’t recognize it but he could make out some of the words.

Tomorrow I was nothing, yesterday I'll be…

……………………………………………………………………

Nothing in this room but empty space

No me, no world, no mind, no face

But it was the voice, more so than the lyrics that grabbed his attention. The sounds were almost ethereal in nature, ghostly and barely above a whisper, yet they sounded so loud and true against the din of the city. Suddenly everything went black. All sound, all light disappeared in a single instance. It took several seconds for Thomas’ eyes to adjust to the newly darkened alley. By the time that they had, the silence brought on by the blackout was beginning to fill with the sounds of confusion. People were stumbling around their homes, trying to find candles or matches. A dim glow began to creep out of each window as people found alternatives to their electricity.

Thomas glanced along the alley again. At the entrance, he could see people moving back and forth along the main stretch of sidewalk. Occasionally a car went past, and the headlights split the darkness of the night like a spear. Each passing vehicle meant a minute of readjustment to the now limited lighting and Thomas was forced to shield his eyes whenever a vehicle went by. He took another long drag from the bottle and then absentmindedly tossed it towards the dumpster. The clatter that the bottle made as it hit first the lip of the dumpster and then shattered was matched by another loud crash.

“Wait,” thought Thomas, “it didn’t happen like that.”

Once again he was brought around by the sounds from within the building. The klaxons had ceased at this point, and the traffic outside the building was now non-existent. His neighbour had managed to get the wires twisted in such a way as they were able to get their arms out, from the sounds of it. And now, whoever was next door was tearing their skin against the bits of metal and broken glass. The screams were a mixture pain, ecstasy and fear. But now there was more than just his next-door neighbour’s voice. He could hear several more voices in the mix. Some were coherent enough to use words, others just let out shrieks of panic and pain.

Thomas decided to take stock of his situation, he glanced at the clock.

7:06

“Well at least it doesn’t read 666,” he said aloud.

lyrics from K's Choice "Believe" from the Cocoon Crash album, 1998.

Beginnings...

The next couple of paragraphs in the story

He watched the growing chaos outside the window with a kind of resigned detachment. He couldn’t get too upset about his current circumstance as he had brought it on himself. With a regretful smile he thought back to the day he had arrived at Cromwell Industries. It had really seemed like the only logical choice at the time. He had lost his job when the tech bubble burst and he found himself stuck in a rut of attending interview after interview, only to be told too often that he had either not enough or too much experience for the position. He saw the faces of the others in the interviews, and knew he must look exactly the same way. It wasn’t so bad for the first few months. He had the package he had been given when the company bought his position out but that slowly began to wear away. The credit cards slowly became maxed, and the stresses had begun to grow on his relationship with Susan. She had been understanding at first but could not seem to understand why he was having such difficulty in finding work. Eventually she had written him off as being lazy and had subsequently written him out of her life. Next to go was his car, repossessed by the bank for failure to pay, and soon after he lost his home. Nowhere to go, he had tried to stay at the hostel until he found work but on the second night his clothing and his possessions, including his resume disks, were stolen. It was at that point that something inside Thomas simply went away. There was no snap, no dramatic breaking point, just a hole where a piece of him used to be.

He left the hostel that night and found himself walking the busy downtown streets. On the surface, you would say that nothing in his town had changed. The theatres were bustling, and the bars did not look to be hurting for business. Neither were the drug dealers or hookers looking like they were seeing a slowdown. Yet the number of those sleeping in alleys did seem to have increased, and now Thomas was one of their numbers. He passed an all night liquor store and used his last twenty dollars to buy the biggest bottle of malt liquor he could find. He had never in his life tasted malt liquor but it somehow seemed appropriate given his circumstance. He found a small alley and sat down with his bottle.

A loud noise brought him back from his reverie. He tried to find its source but he could not seem to focus on anything in the room, anything except the clock.

5:55

He had been launched into his past memories for more than an hour. The scene outside his window was now one of mass confusion. A heavy rain had begun to fall during his absence, and the clouds that had rolled in had replaced the grey with an ominous black, casting a surreal hue over the land. Cars were sliding form the wet roads and there was no longer any pretense as to obeying traffic laws. People were fleeing from something. the alarm sounded again and again Thomas could not tell if it were coming from inside the building or out beyond the walls. A second loud crash, seeming to come from the room next to his brought his surroundings sharply back into focus.

3 days in the valley

ok well not in the valley, but on the lakefront at the very least. I have done three shifts at the ink refilling spot. So far so good. That also means three days of bike riding, which is also so far so good, although I am certainly feeling it today. The job is such that I should be able to study on slow nights, which it appears many will be. The owner is a very nice man, and the manager seems like a good guy. The work itself is repetitive but has the added bonus of showing immediate results, which is always good =)
Sleep has once again become a foreign concept though. I am just not able to get there, and when I am there, I am not able to stay there. too much running aounrd in my head I guess. I will be glad when the semester begins so that I can focus all of this mental energy into my studies. Physically I am doing ok, mentally, a little... suspect but this too shall pass =)
I spoke to my good friend Vicki last night, she is off to her MA at Simon Frazier University. She already has waaaaay more information from her university than I do. I hope that is not a sign of things to come.
Today is my day off this week. I am going to celebrate it by doing laundry!

the best way...

to write again is simply to begin writing again I think. So, here it goes.

Thomas sat staring out the window at the world outside his current abode. It was a grey day, with wind gusting occasionally and rain that speckled anything in its path. He noted, with a bemused grin, that everything, even the most vibrant colours looked dull and uninteresting. He watched as cars travelled along the narrow road that lead to the former base hospital that was now his regular home. There were puddles forming in the ruts of the road and anytime a vehicle moved through them, there was a a spray thrown up that was reminiscent of a ships wake on the water. Any pedistrian in the area was forced to dodge this deluge of muddy water, as the motorists paid little heed to anything other than their wristwatches. Thomas glanced, almost absent-mindedy at the cloak on the pale institutional green wall.
4:44
He found it interesting to note that it always seemed to be a time such as that whenever he looked. The last time he had turned away from the window it had been 2:22. He turned his gaze back to the great grey wastes that lay outside his perch. The traffic was intensifying now, nothing coming towards the building, but many vehicles moving in the opposite direction. In the distance, or what he perceived to be the distance, he could hear an air raid siren and instructions on where and how to evacuate. He could no longer tell if the sounds were coming from inside or outside the building, they had faded into the background of his consciousness and were fast on the way to becoming nothing more than white noise.
After all, they didn't really apply to him. No one had come to unlock the door to his room, and the bustle in the hallways outside had gone from rapid to frantic to closing in on silent. There would be no evacuation for either he or the others who had been admitted with him. Each would be left to their own devices in their solitary rooms as whatever the warnings predicted came to fruition.

don'tcha hate it when....

you start to write something and suddenly realize that someone has written it far better than you already. Damn you Billy Corrigan!!!!

Honestly"

I believe
I believe
I believe
I believe the love you talk about with me
Is it true, do I care
Honestly, you can try to wipe the memories aside
But it's you that you erase

'cause there's no place that I could be without you
It's too far to discard the life I once knew
Honestly, all the weather and storms I bring
Are just a picture of my needs
'cause when I think of you as mine
And allow myself with time
To lead into the life we want
I feel loved, honestly
I feel loved, this honestly

I believe you mean the best that life can bring
I believe in it all
Honestly, you can try
Your heart is just as long as mine
Is it ours to let go

'cause there's not place that I could be without you
It's too dark to discard the life I once knew
Honestly, a single wrong is not enough
To cover up the pain in us
'cause when I think of you as mine
And allow myself with time
To lead into the life we want
I feel loved, honestly
I'll make a joke so you must laugh
I'll break your heart so you must ask
Is this the way to get us back
I don't know, honestly
I don't know, this honestly

There's no place that I could be without you
Honestly

There's no place that I could be without you
There's no place that I could gleam without you
There's no place that I could dream without you
There's no place that I could be without you
Honestly

and then another!!!!! he stole my creative genius away I tell you!!!!

El Sol"

empty-armed
and half a soul to go

and all i wanted
was you here next to me
a little sunshine and sympathy

now everybody knows
that i've been hanging down so low
'cause now i'm feeling up
soon i'll be feeling out so cold
wondering, will you call
and now i'm feeling high
soon i'll be feeling left for dead
sometimes someone saying yes
changes what you'll bet

and all i wanted
was just to hold you close
a little sunshine
just to butter my toast
and your love next to mine

i had to let you know
that we were meant to be just right
heaven sent, not sympathized
by everybody's lie
and now i'm feeling high
now i'm feeling left so dead
kicking up the dust in bed
wondering, i guess

sunshine
sunshine
sunshine
and some tea

and your love
your love
your love next to mine

i had to let you know
i had to let you go so i
could see my lie fade from your eyes
and to my surprise

that's what i wanted
it's all i wanted
it's what i wanted
me and you

sunshine
sunshine
sunshine
and some tea

that's all i wanted
it's all i wanted
that's all i wanted
it's all i wanted


*sigh* I had those thoughts, those ideas and he pressed them first! I have been robbed I tell you, robbed!

missing muses

I used to write, write a lot, and quite often. I used to have a lot to say... on politics, on sex, on love. I used to write what was in my heart, and in my head and I was unapologetic about it. I wrote poetry, short stories, commentaries, rants, hell even movie reviews. And somewhere along the way I stopped, I started writing short little blog entries, here and on blogspot. Updates, often without substance, devoid of any deeper meaning. I wonder what happened.
I went back over some projects I had done for a WebRing called Fugue and some of them were actually quite good. Even some of the poetry was good. I still don't know what happened, why I lost my muse or when it happened, but it did.
Today there is so many thoughts that swirl around my conscious and my subconscious mind. So many ideas and arguements and laments and stories that are aching to get out, and yet I cannot find the drive to write, can;t find the right vehicle to express myself. It is frustrating... I don;t think it is writer's block so much, as the ideas are there. There is something more to it, but I don't know what that something is. Perhaps it was because I got out of habit, perhas because I focused my creativity into my school work, perhaps it is because I became worried at offending anyone who might read what I wrote. I just don;t know. All I know is that I miss it.

exciting day

Ok today has been somewhat exciting. It started with breakfast at the greasy spoon around the corner, which, as always was great. Did a load of laundry and as I was hanging it on the balcony to dry, I received a phone call from a place I had put a resume in. They wanted to interview me on Monday, but as I will be in Ottawa next week, they decided to fit me in today. The interview went very well. Small family run organization, does inkjet refills, nice people from what I can tell. It is in the Frontenac Mall which is about an hours walk, by my estimation... but I decided I would do something aboutt hat on the way home from the interview. I passed a rather seedy looking used sport's shop and bought a bike that was priced at 45 bucks but managed to get it for 30.
Now, I have not ridden a bike since before my back injury. That is 8 years ago now. Turns out, you never really forget. I managed it without any hassle for the first part of the trip home =) but my thighs certainly let me know Iwas using muscles I have not used in a long time after about half an hour. But still it was a major achievement.
For those who don't know, I used to be very active with my mountain bike. I rode everywhere. It was one of the things I really and truly missed after the back injury. Back home, it simply wasn't an option. The coniditon of the roads and the steepness of the hills meant I was not able to ride. The potholes were bruatl and one of them could have destroyed my back altogether. Here, there are very few hills, and the ones that are here are on easy inclines. So I had been toying with the idea for a little while. The 30 dollar price tag, however, clinched it for me. It isn;t a great bike, and several years ago I would have scoffed at getting CCM mountain bike. I was far too snobish with my GT, and later my Trek. But these days all I need it for is reseaonable transportation and moderate exercise. I will be able to ride it to school and (hopefully) work most days, into at least December and then start again in March. It will help me physically a fair bit (once I get used to riding again) But I have to tell you, in spite of the pain and the current temperature (it is 31 degrees celcius before humidex here) it felt amazing. It felt great to have the breeze in my faces as I rode toward home. The fram is a little small for me, the chain needs oil and I need a helmet, a lock and a set of hand grips, but other than that, the gears work fine, the peddles are strong and the wheels and breaks seem to be in decent shape.
I figure at 30 bucks, if I ride it to and from work (hopefully) at least three times, I will have paid for the cost of it outright =) so if it lasts at least that long everything is good =) and should it get stolen, enh what odds. If it had been one of my 1500 bikes that I used to own it would have been a huge issue, This one... it is only 30 bucks =)
On a sad note, someone whom I worked with a great deal in theatre, and the father of a good friend of mine, Dick Bheuler passed away this week. I wish I could be there for the services. But anyone out there who reads this and who knew Dick, they have asked for donations to be made to the scholarship fund in his name. You can do so by sending a check to Memorial University of Newfoundland for the Dick Buehler Award in Theatre through the Office of Alumni Affairs and Development, 20 Lambes Lane, St. John's, NL, A1C 5C7.
Hope you are holding up ok Mike, and I hope the rest of your family is as well, thinking of you

Thousand Islands

So Jill's mom is here with us for a few days... in our one bedroom apt. Sure is cosy. Though I shouldn't complain I suppose. She took us out to Gananoque yesterday to do the three hour boat cruise through the Thousand Islands and it was stunning. The weather was perfect, I got to work on my farmer tan... and the scenery was just frickin gorgeous. Plus it was a boat tour, and anytime I get to spend on or in water is usually a good thing.
Still no luck on the job front but I think I have things covered to get us through to September... just means there will be no house-outfitting spree in the fall...
I have been devouring textbooks for the upcomging program... one down the second one in progress and two more to read while I spend the next week house / dog sitting for my brother in Ottawa. I am looking forward to that very much. They are leaving me the house and a car... so I can get myself hopelessly lost in a new city.
One of the profs posted a syllabus for the fall for one of the three courses we will be doing. lotsa reading, at least I am going to be a little ahead of the game and will have the stuff read, hell maybe even somenotes taken on it by the time we start =)

age discrimination

it is funny how things work in a circular pattern. 10 years ago this year, I got married ( I have since been divorced). At that time my wife was a mature student working on her Masters at a Uni in NL. She had a hell of a time trying to find work for the summer months because she was too old (she was several years older than I). Too old meaning that all of the student employment projects are geared to those under 30. I am 37... that rules me out. I had a chance at a couple of interviews today, only to have to turn them down because they are a part of the federally funded work projects, which require that the student be between the ages of 16 and 30. I can understand the need to set up youth employment and job experience programs for the younger, and newer workers in the work force, but I don;t believe that if you are a full time student, you should be excluded from working due to your age. I am a full time student. I do not have the ability or luxury of being independently wealthy, and I have to work hard at the school end of it to maintain my grades to achieve scholarships and fellowships so that I can continue my academic career. I should not be penalized on the job front because I happen to be a decade or two older than my fellow students. The fact tremains I need a temporary position, just for a couple of months, until the fall semester starts. My age should be irrelevant to this process.
I remember watching my ex-wife go through this hassle, and how frustrating it was for her, trying to finish her degree and trying to survive on top of that. Now it is my turn. I was understanding then, as my current partner is now, but it is a struggle to say the least.