they're gone.
locked away in a prison of ones and zeroes, held until I release them for 14 pounds a year.
although I've switched over to somewhere where it won't happen again (knock knock), I haven't quite wrapped my head around it.
ugh.
March 08, 2004
ye gods
everything that's been written to me in the last year is gone.
fucking squawkbox.
(have switched, there should be no more "account expired!" page)
March 07, 2004
You're Geek Chic. Offbeat and with a thumbful of
calluses, you spend most of your time catching
Simpsons reruns and sucking down raspberry
Jell-O. However, you're still a hipster,
you've still got your own style, and you
probably dig the Velvet Underground's "Who
Loves the Sun?"
What Kind of Hipster Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
March 05, 2004
it's weird how I can bitch and moan and complain all the way home about stuff and then find something to make me realize how insignificant all of this is.
This is the photo album (essay?) of a young woman who takes the odd motorcycle ride through Chernobyl.
yes, that Chernobyl.
it's weird and haunting and surreal - the broken english commentary only adds to the sense of dread, loss, and waste.
I have no more words.
"surprise race of the year."
four people.
three serious ones.
one senate spot.
I should've run for VPI.
tupping liberty.
March 04, 2004
offshoots of my walk to the library:
a) slurpee prices are up. They were 79 cents in grade 8, 89 in grade 10, and now they're up to 1.09 for a small one!! Mac's prices remain curiously the same. Looks like I have a new destination for my walks.
b) reading a comic book isn't the same as reading a scan. There's something about the smell of the paper, the heft in your hands (more if it's a trade paperback) and the excitement of actually flipping pages. There is no joy in hitting Page Down.
c) Diet Coke with Lime is growing on me.
March 02, 2004
but it's different now
On the skytrain this morning; watching the blurred landscapes go by and listening to Radiohead.
a woman embarks, pushing a stroller with two boys - I'd say one was 2 years old, and the other was 10-13 months.
the younger one stares with rapt fascination out the window.
the older one looks around, seeing people and textures and things, puzzled and amused by the newness of it all.
He looks at me. I smile wave, and play peekaboo. After a moment, I realize he's far more interested in the headphones than in me.
As I walk to the B-Line, I wonder when I started taking everything for granted, and when I stopped taking joy from the simple things.
I need a break from the world.
and it's not coming until May.
Fuck.
March 01, 2004
assorted thoughts, $2.99/100 grams
I bought a instant drink cooling ring thing at Safeway today. One simply pops it in the freezer and then places it around the room temperature beverage of choice. It works really well.
Also, there's penguins on it.
---
Fuck you, electric can openers!
---
I'm running for Senate... as soon as forms are available.
Best of luck to the other suckers candidates.
February 28, 2004
February 26, 2004
in which Gerald goes to his first and last AMS meeting.
about 2/3rds of the way through last night's AMS meeting, I wrote Chris Payne a note:
Dear Chris,
if I ever volunteer to proxy at an AMS meeting again, hit me with a 2x4*.
Gerald
*if a 2x4 is unavailable, a weapon may be chosen at your discretion.
I don't think he understood that I was serious.
February 25, 2004
February 24, 2004
February 21, 2004
words for life, #I-never-bothered-to-count
"You really don't put in words to keep anything real. I believe that it is real if it is real. I don't know how to keep anything real, because why keep it real if it has to be kept? Real is real. "
- Margaret Cho
what. the. fuck.
had a dream last night in which Naf and I had a vicious argument about some seriously dumb shit, swore never to speak to each other again, and then tearily made up (not out).
...on a jungle gym.
not as weird as other ones I've had, but a jungle gym?!
February 20, 2004
dear telus...
...it's great that you have policies in place which allow certain activities related to phones performed only by the person being billed. Ideally, though, you should not have clerks telling me that "I really shouldn't do this, so don't tell anyone" on some, and "I can't do that." on others, when I should be refused on all of them.
February 19, 2004
minor ramble because I'm in an awesome mood
a little backstory:
Iain was the guy who I had at least one class with every year, who I got along with immensely well, who was just always... there. We spent spare blocks together at the UBC arcade (including the one time we missed the bus, got to class late, and made up the awesomest lie ever about how the bus broke down. and pulled it off.), dissected frogs and got up to general silliness together. It was 5 thoroughly interesting years with him around.
Now, Iain's off at UVic, and I hadn't seen him since we graduated, which would be something like a year and 8 months at this point; and given that we're used to seeing each other pretty much daily, it's been sort of weird. There was MSN, but it's not at all the same.
We hung out today, me and him and Patricia. Played a couple games in the arcade, went on a micro-tour of campus (he didn't know about forestry, patricia didn't know what belkin was, I had no clue about the echoey thing at the end of koerner plaza) stopped at the rose garden for a moment, and then headed to koerner's.
now, stop for a moment. this is me, with a pair of friends who I've known since I was 12, with whom I have had more fun than I care to recount at this point - people who are basically everything I loved about the high school experience. And we're going to sit in Koerner's and drink beer and shoot pool, and talk about the past, the present, the future. Politics; federal, provincial and student. Music; he's getting back into house, she's discovering canadian indie rock, and I'm all over the place. People we know, others we've heard of, conversations we keep intending to have. We don't stop talking until she has to leave for a movie, he has a hair appointment, and I should really get back to that physics problem set.
some drinks, some pool, an afternoon of talk.
old friends.
new hangouts.
this was definitely more of a lift than I thought it would be.
February 18, 2004
an extremely typical post.
I'm all excited about tomorrow.
It'll be good to see people and do things and reminisce...
February 16, 2004
a request.
so, one of my old high school friends is in town from Victoria, and I haven't seen him in almost two years. We're going to go drinking at some point, but the only question is where.
basically, no cover, relaxed-ish atmosphere, and me being able to get in with minimum fuss are the three major requirements.
I'm thinking Koerner's, but if anyone has any other non-campus suggestions, that'd be hot.
February 15, 2004
physics extravaganza!!
Insultingly Stupid Movie Physics. Fun for a quick read, and then you realize you're learning stuff.
the only thing cooler than Physics of Music... Physics of Comic Books, which includes stuff like why Krypton HAD to explode.
everyone needs a fuzzy shirt for beer gardens.
honestly, it's great; had a couple conversations and some chest-rubbing (!!) started solely on the basis of my shirt.
---
friday was fun; started out with a posse heading to RBF; ran into a couple more people along the way, and then ended up jumping the line to grab a beer. only ended up drinking two, but hey, they were free and I spent no time in line for them. got ditched by AUS crew, so I walked with Jordie to Gage where he grabbed a mug, and then we went to buck-a-beaker. which was probably the worst policed beer garden I've ever been to. at least AUS ones let you get in and then make you show ID for tickets; the buck-a-beaker security guy ID'd Jordie WHILE I WALKED AROUND HIM. seriously, it was pretty bad. start drinking (beer wasn't that great) chat up some SUS types, hang out. Run into Graham, head to MASS with the intention of heading back to buck-a-beaker (he forgot a mug, and wasn't about to shell out for a beaker). End up staying at MASS for most of the rest of the night, then head out to buck-a-beaker, evade security once again, miss seeing Jill entirely, hang out there, and then walk Jo Krack to CanClub. Head downstairs to grab a slice of pizza, then run into Jordie again, at which point we go to hang out in Fairview.
time spent drinking: 4 hours.
money spent drinking: $2
drinks consumed: 6.
a solid evening, I'd say.
February 14, 2004
February 12, 2004
what's new?
- have been using "honestly" and "fuck" interchangeably -- as interjections, not as adjectives.
- more walks.
- less slurpees.
- buck a beaker tomorrow; at the last one, I dubbed Graham "sea-to-sky". can't help but wonder what'll happen this time.
- considering joining the debate society; between spencer's spiels (this was a while ago) and patricia's testimonials, it seems like a good idea.
- dunno what to run for in the AUSlections. sort of want to VPI, but senate seems fascinating, too.
- job hunt continues.
- plaza's going to be interesting. in the good way.
- have been reading slashdot - weird abbreviations pop up there, like IANAL(i am not a lawyer). makes me giggle.
February 09, 2004
definitely one of those consolation days...
...y'know, the kind where things go well enough to almost make up for the last two.
morning was unexciting. really. commute, office, class, etc.
well, we broke a glass in physics using only sound waves, which was pretty hot.
then we had the speediest meeting ever, with enough time left over at the end to discuss hats, and then draft a motion:
"whereas bad hats are a plague to all students, and the AUS is a pretty stylish bunch, be it resolved that this council ban the wearing of stupid Kangol hats by all and trucker caps by anyone who isn't a trucker. All students wearing such hats will be shunned. Note: requires 2/3rds."
Collins demanded a roll-call vote.
18 for.
11 against.
4 abstentions.
so, every arts student is now required to not wear trucker caps or stupid Kangol hats and also to shun those who do.
I wonder if SUS plans on following suit, especially since they've run off with a copy of Code.
next class consisted of me being bored, and watching the girl sitting in front of me play Solitaire. badly.
when it was over, me and the E7A crew were all going to head down to the Belkin gallery, because we'd never been, and were interested in seeing whatever was going on.
Alex went to class, so me, Jordie, and Rob head down to Belkin. Finding a "CLOSED" sign on the front revolving doors but not seeing a corresponding one on the back door, we walk around to the back entrance (across from the Freddy Wood Theatre). Open one door, and nothing happens. Open another, and we're in. There's someone in a back room blasting bad rock (I swear it was Billy Talent), and we don't bother checking to see.
so we spent some time walking around the Belkin art gallery, examining pottery from an exhibit called "Thrown", while it's absolutely silent. the gallery's TVs are off, there's no noise from other people, and we're sticking to the middle of the room, because there's laser sensors making sure your arms don't go vaguely close to the pottery.
then we remember that we ditched Alasdair, and that we should probably go outside to meet him.
and we do.
then we go back in, and Mysterious Bad Musical Taste Man (who did not see our previous exit or entry) gently reminds us that the gallery is currently closed, and that we should come back tomorrow.
much heckling later, we head back to gage (with a quick stop through MASS to grab my stuff, skim the PSSA career fair, and to garner a quick, "baby, why you gotta play me like that?" from Graham.)
and then Speculation begins. good gods, that's fun.
two hours later, I head out to Kerrisdale on the 43 to meet my mom for 5pm. Since she's working again, I have rides home. Get to the old high school at 4:50, realize that I have enough time for a Slurpee run, and grab one before driving home.
---
nothing exciting at home; just toying with CSS2 some more, and wondering if tracking down a crack of Dreamweaver MX is worth my time.
February 08, 2004
you're wearing thin.
[a note from the next day: this was a venting post; I haven't disowned my sister.]
no.
there is no goodnight from me.
rest your elbows on my crossed arms all you want; I will not change my mind.
I'm not 7 any more. you hold nothing over me now but bank fees and half-truths.
there is no attitude problem. I'm just tired.
see:
- the late, angry phone calls.
- the constant inconsideration.
- half my closet. gone.
- the imperative tense.
- the hour of sleep I scheduled for and don't get.
- how you leave everyone wound up.
there is no reason why I had to give up saturday night.
none but you.
so figure out your life, and stay away from mine until you do.
I'm not your friend any more. I'm just your brother.
February 07, 2004
doing random shit to keep my mind off things.
between excessive boredom and chats with Jon, this probably won't look the same for two days in a row for a good long time.
when I find something I'm satisfied with, you'll know.
February 06, 2004
February 05, 2004
February 02, 2004
an academic post.
dear Coriolanus,
fuck you.
I hate you for being so weird and inaccessible, for being based on two earlier, more esoteric works, and also for being fucking boring. You live in a world run by your mother, and despite constant words about valour and honour, you're loathe to show your experience to the citizens whose support you need. Your death sucked, your life was boring, and the play that carries your name is barely produced because nobody wants to see it.
ARGH.
February 01, 2004
question time
so, readers, what're you listening to... RIGHT NOW?
me? broken social scene - late nineties bedroom rock for the missionaries
January 30, 2004
now that life is sort of back to normal...
quick update post.
Classes: getting interesting. I can't wait until my Drama class moves into modern plays. Novels is tolerable, since the discussion can be interesting at times, and the prof seems to like my writing style. Physics is, as always, fascinating. Behavioural Stats is something I'm glad I'm forcing myself to go to; statistics is so full of tiny stupid nitpicky things that I would totally miss otherwise. And the three free hours afterwards are nice.
Home: Apparently, I'm distant and hostile. I should probably fix that.
Extracurricular: ACF starts soon. I'm missing the sleepover, which sucks, but I can't wait.
January 29, 2004
okay, what the fuck?
Mos Def as Ford Prefect?
Mos Def looks like this.
Ford Prefect looks like this.
I mean this.
...I really think the "travesty + body + magnets + copper wire = free electricity" could work here.
January 25, 2004
48 hours.
I was Spencer's campaign manager.
The past two weeks have been ludicrous; things got off to a rocky start when we didn't have posters until after the All Candidates Meeting. Things went a little better after that; and the rest of the two weeks passed by in a blur of activity, bad war puns, and musical references.
Now it's over, and I'm sitting here, feeling like the world is a thousand shades of grey.
It's that feeling just after you accomplish something huge, and realise that it's back to business as usual. But usual's not enough, any more.
The ones you don't expect are the ones that hit you hardest.
January 24, 2004
for those of you that weren't at results night: Spencer said some things about the stuff I'd done for the campaign. I don't have the knack for public speaking, so here's my response
Spencer,
I'm proud of you. I don't think anyone else saw quite how much work you put into this, how much devotion and passion and energy went into this campaign. You knew it would be an uphill battle the entire way, yet you amassed a staff, laid out plans, and stuck to them. You fought to show the students of UBC that an independent candidate is not a foaming screwball, but someone who is professional, focussed, and a viable choice for student leadership. I kept you sane, but you kept me going; your constant drive inspired all of us to go the extra mile. Honestly, it was a bit like a cult of personality.
This has been a learning experience like no other, from elections rules to political gossip to mild subterfuge, I picked up a lot of stuff I didn't know about. Campaign managing wasn't something I previously thought was within my talents. I certainly wouldn't have done this otherwise; thank you for believing in me.
So, Spencer, stand and bow; you've accomplished something huge here, and the impact you've made will be felt.
You're a gentleman and a scholar, and working with you has been a pleasure.
And I'd do it again without hesitation.
you and me / let's go out going all the way
this was my friday:
0620: Wake up. 2 wakeup calls to Spencer, both get sent to voicemail.
0635: Get out of shower. Wakeup call #3, goes through.
0720: Leave house.
0800: Get to Broadway Station, realise I have forgotten tape with which to put up posters. Swear, head into Post Office to get some tape.
0810: Put up posters, get out handbills. Run into Mike Kushnir, who is handbilling for SPAN. He's run out, though, so he's handing out SPAN posters. People don't like this, so I look better by comparison.
0830: call Spencer. Find out he's been vomiting. Worry slightly, then realize that there's not much to do from where I am. Handbill some more.
0925: Finish handbilling, hit Safeway for something dark chocolate and stomach friendly. Hop on B-Line.
1000: get to campus, have a quick chat with Spencer, get to class.
1200: Handbill.
1300: Go to Angus to find class, get lost.
1310: Run into Tara. Handbill some more.
1630: Eat first actual food of day; bowl of chicken corn soup from the Moon. Naf comments that I should eat more if I am to be drinking tonight. I respond, "Yeah. This is just the invasion of Poland."
1640: Spencer and I perform a spontaneous spoken word version of "Baby Got Back" for Naf.
1745: Head to Spencer's for a nap.
1800-1915: Nap.
1830: Lana calls. "There 6 Guinness for you in Rob's quad. Don't worry about paying me back, and I'll see you later." I love her.
1900: Order Chalet.
1915-1945: controversy. I can't talk about this, but I will later.
1930: Chalet arrives.
2000: Head out to Gage, start drinking.
2000-2320: Drinking Guinness in Gage, random chat, etc.
2320: Head to Koerner's.
2345: Get into Koerner's, courtesy of Jordie's ID.
2350-0045: Schmooze, drink, anticipate.
0045: Bad news.
0050: Spencer speaks about destroying slates.
0052: Spencer speaks about me specifically (more on that later).
0100-0200: Schmooze, chat with EA about elections, chat with CRO about the english class we have together, etc.
0200: Get the boot from Koerner's. Head to Gage to grab jacket and remaining Guinnesses.
0230: Leave Gage, head to Dave Tompkin's apartment in Thunderbird.
0445: Leave T-Bird, with the intention of walking back to the bus loop and taking a Night Bus.
0455: Give up on Night Bus, decide to find Eaton and call cab.
0505: Call cab for Bus Loop, get Eaton to let us into Chem A-Block (Science Advising) to stay warm. Both Spencer and I fall asleep.
0645: Spencer wakes up, wakes me up. We board a 17. Eaton has mysteriously disappeared.
0700: back at Spencer's.
0945: Wake up, can't fall asleep. Do English readings and listen to Interpol.
1000: Fall asleep again.
1130: Wake up again.
1215: Spencer's up. We chat.
1330: Head home. On bus, consider how the hell I'm going to write about all this.
---
There's a lot that happens in between. I'm too tired for this.
January 22, 2004
January 21, 2004
not opining = awesome
"Gerald, do I smell bad?"
"I AM SWITZERLAND. CHOCOLATE AND WATCHES. CHOCOLATE AND WATCHES. I PRODUCE CHOCOLATE AND WATCHES, NOT OPINIONS."
January 18, 2004
State of The Gerald
just a number of assorted thoughts about how things are:
- I seem to have grown a little taller and gotten a little thinner.
- Diet Coke consumption is through the roof; I drank 2 liters at Spencer's yesterday, including the mug full I took to Safeway. I couldn't just let it get flat.
- We're moving back to Vancouver soon.
- I should really get my licence.
- the PowerBelt idea (powerbar = belt) is slowly expanding (in my head) to a full geek accessories line; including a belt made of IDE cables, Firewire bracelets that are also extension cords, XLR watch straps and other assorted silliness. I wonder if you can make aquariums out of big CRT monitors...
- I haven't been this tense in a while; when I look down I feel it all the way to my lower back. This is not a good sign.
- 19 soon.
- Going to bed absolutely swamped is a great feeling.
- Feeling sort of guilty about having done very little for Arts Week. I know I was busy with other stuff and I did what I could, but still.
- Fair starts up soon.
- Elections over soon.
- Have yet to cook anything from the new cookbook. Have, however, figured out the most effective way to move a couple French techniques into regular cooking (using mirepoix instead of just onions, thickening with butter, etc.)
- Additionally, does anyone have a steamer I could borrow?
January 16, 2004
January 15, 2004
pilot program
so, I turn 19 in about three months.
there's a large volume of alcohol I don't know about, and am interested in learning about.
so, here's the deal: you get me loaded (for educational purposes), I cook you dinner.
I've got Eaton on board, for Scotch, and I want to get enough people together for an awesome dinner party. Especially since I'll be back in East Van soon.
January 14, 2004
because, you know, I don't have enough to deal with.
my brother in law has been disowned.
a;dhjglsdgfla;hdgfla;hdgf;hjla
(that was my head against the keyboard.)
January 12, 2004
spencer-crusade-free-zone
there's a lot to be said here, but not much time to do it in:
- classes = good.
- UBC = good.
- Graham being a bad influence again = good.
- Interpol = good.
- people confusing me with Spencer when I don't mean to do it = not so much.
January 06, 2004
January 05, 2004
thoughts.
classes have started.
I'm home again.
--
go say hi to Dave
--
My MP3 Collection
want something? give me a list and a blank CD.
--
The Spencer Crusade begins soon. I almost feel the need for a feathered helmet, or possibly a squire.
January 01, 2004
no lj-cuts for me, wo wo tonight.
1. What did you do in 2003 that you'd never done before? A lot of things; notably worked at a rock concert, went to a rock concert, moved out of Vancouver, started a blog, was the mature one in an argument with my brother.
2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't make New Year's resolutions. And anything I put in writing tends to fall through.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth? No.
4. Did anyone close to you die? Yes.
5. What countries did you visit? Does the US count?
6. What would you like to have in 2004 that you lacked in 2003? A lot of things, most of them minor.
7. What date from 2003 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? February 12, when my sister was married. April 9, my first fair. July 4, moving. August 30, Radiohead.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Staying sane.
9. What was your biggest failure? Lost it for a bit.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury? No car accidents, thankfully. Just allergies.
11. What was the best thing you bought? Eggos? Radiohead ticket? tough call.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration? A lot of people for a lot of things; they know who they are.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Few people. They know who they are, too.
14. Where did most of your money go? Food.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Radiohead.
16. What song will always remind you of 2003? Kazzer's "Pedal to the Metal", Radiohead's "2+2=5" (bonus for having Graham on it)
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? happier.
ii. thinner or fatter? thinner.
iii. richer or poorer? poorer.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Writing.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Commuting. Working on it, though.
20. How will you be spending Christmas? Spent it in Delta.
22. Did you fall in love in 2003? No. Yes. I'm so confused. Hold me.
23. How many one-night stands? None.
24. What was your favorite TV program? Don't care anymore.
25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? Hating people is a waste of time and energy.
26. What was the best book you read? The entire run of Transmetropolitan. The moment you say that graphic novels don't count, I will cut you.
27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Most everything I listen to that isn't Radiohead.
28. What did you want and get? Eggos!
30. What was your favorite film of this year? Kill Bill. Over the top gore = awesome. Company = awesomer.
31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? 18, and studied. I had an exam the next day.
32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Working during the summer.
33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2003? Clothes? Good call.
34. What kept you sane? Vanessa, Radiohead, and this weird grip I have on my sanity.
35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Ed O'Brien. More because I want to be him, not do him.
36. What political issue stirred you the most? Don't really pay much attention to the politics.
37. Who did you miss? A couple of people from high school who I'd lost touch with or were only seeing on MSN. My sister; until I realized that sleeping diagonally was now possible. Everyone, when I was stuck in Delta for longish periods of time.
38. Who was the best new person you met? Can't say. Although I met most of my new gang in the beginning of first year, I spent this one getting to know them a lot better. If you want new new people, then I'd have to go with Tony, Quinn, and Collins/Costa.
39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2003? Change is inevitable.
(download the mp3, go to 1:24)
December 30, 2003
December 29, 2003
so, my uncle is visiting from the States, and heaven forbid he sleep in a motel, so he's been staying in my room.
as such, I've been sharing a bed with my brother; it's giant, and I cling to the edge anyway, so that's fine.
he has this weird habit of leaving his radio on to Z95.3, just loud enough to make out the words. as much as I'd like to roll over and turn it off, he's in the way, and gets quite... well, bitchy when one does so.
because of this I had one of the wackiest dreams I've had in a good long time, so wacky that you could turn it into a flash game.
A freak EMP has dissolved the brains of bad music-loving people listening to bad music. They've turned into zombies and need proper music-loving brains to survive.
You are the owner of a particularly bitchin' record store. Also you have a band.
Wave after wave of zombies heads towards your store, each repulsed by a different type of music. You can tell which type because there's a clue given by their dress/attitude/mumbling (in the dream, I just knew). You can either drop a record, or play a cover.
To drop a record: you have to find it before the zombies eat your band.
To play a cover: choose from a list of 5, and then think Parappa the Rapper; you have to hit certain keys as they come up.
If you drop the right record/play the right cover, they dissolve. If not, they get one step (of three) closer to devouring a customer. When you run out of customers, they start on your bandmates. When it's down to you, game over.
As levels go on, zombies become harder to kill, until you meet the final boss: the RIAA. or some record company exec. whatever.
in conclusion: I'm crazy, and Z95.3 doesn't help.
addendum: at the beginning of your game, choose your anality level. Lower means your records are disorganized but you have more customers. higher means more organization, less customers. At the highest level, your records are perfectly alphabetical by band, chronological by release, but you have no customers.
December 27, 2003
I want to be able to take things at face value.
Surrey frustrates me.
Delta angers me.
Even after 6 months, Vancouver is home; not where I sleep, but where I live.
I miss looking out my window and seeing trees along the sidewalk.
I miss the 41.
I miss a lot of things I'll never have again, lost and inconsequential, but mourned nonetheless.
This place, with its pink walls and dingy grey carpet, footsteps heard through the ceiling and lemurs in the bedrooms, seems to inspire a full-body ennui; as if any and all fun was sucked out of it, viciously and constantly.
and I can't leave.
I have to be the supportive one; the one who keeps it all together (or appears to) as things shudder, twist and ultimately change.
If you're reading this and being all confused because this isn't like me, know that I'm just as puzzled. I know that I'll pick up and move on, eventually; it's the waiting that's the tough bit.
Do I use too many semicolons?
mood: discontent
music: Blur - Music is My Radar
December 24, 2003
Once More With Hobbits
that's right. The Buffy Musical meets the Lord of the Rings.
nothing exploded.
December 23, 2003
December 21, 2003
December 18, 2003
question
when reading blogs/msn conversations/emails/other online correspondence, do you imagine the voice of the person as you read, or do you read it as you would any other text?
December 17, 2003
return of the king was fucking awesome.
go find out for yourself, if you haven't already.
props to naf for getting a geek crew together.
--
monday was the first day I'd set foot in Vancouver in a week, which was bizarre.
--
I want a still of the shot of Gandalf sitting in Minas Tirith, not moving, where he's all in white, and the walls are white, and he's sitting in deep thought (or sorrow).
Jaw-droppingly well composed shot.
--
house of brown.
(giggle)
--
Mountain Madness did not kill me.
or cause stomach pains.
odd.
December 14, 2003
untitled for now. (eventually crossposted to 48hours)
"It's the moments that illuminate it, though. The times you don't see when you're having them... they make the rest of it matter."
My life so far has been filled with moments; passing fragments of time and space, which can be relived but not rewound, cradled but not clenched. Castles of sand on the beach of my memory.
I'd try and make as many of them as I could in my last 48 hours, both for me and for my loved ones.
If I'm off to the Intergalactic Council of Poopy, then I'm going to need them.
If I'm dead, then those who will have known me will be needing them.
Grab a shovel and bucket, or just use your hands: there's moments to be made, and not much time to do it in.
December 13, 2003
December 08, 2003
meme-o-rama!!
answer the following, please. I think my comments box has a word limit, so you might have to stop at #10 and then post a second comment.
1. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it.
2. Am I lovable?
3. How long have you known me?
4. When and how did we first meet?
5. What was your first impression?
6. Do you still think that way about me now?
7. What do you think my weakness is?
8. Do you think I'll get married?
9. What makes me happy?
10. What makes me sad?
11. What reminds you of me?
12. If you could give me anything what would it be?
13. How well do you know me?
14. When's the last time you saw me?
15. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
16. Do you think I could kill someone?
17. Describe me in one word.
18. Do you think our friendship is getting stronger/weaker/or staying the same?
19. Do you feel that you could talk to me about anything and I would listen?
20. Are you going to put this on your livejournal and see what I say about you?
December 07, 2003
on the surface, simplicity / it's the darkest pit in me (crossposted to 48 hours)
I'm staring at my hands.
Examining the tracery of lines and creases that my skin assumes when my hands are clenched.
Knowing that the moment I stop, the thought begins. The endless reexamination. Where I shouldn't have said something, or walked away, or simply let it roll off my back. The words held back, things I meant and didn't say, things I said and didn't mean.
It's later.
I'm sitting in one of the countless sushi joints in Kerrisdale, across from the only person who sees through my projected calm to the stormy seas beneath.
We order.
We wait.
He looks at me, a question in his eyes. I catch his glance; motion for him to finish his thought.
"No. You'd probably kick me for asking."
"And this is different from any other question, how?"
"Fine. Why do you bother? I mean, if none of it makes sense to you, then why carry on with the rituals and the restrictions and the rest of it?"
The waitress arrives, bearing beef teriyaki for him, vegetable tempura for me. Silence from both ends, teenaged boys too deeply enveloped in the material to discuss matters of the spiritual.
Halfway through, he steals a piece of squash, then motions at his bowl. "Did you want some?"
Usually, this is a joke - endless mockery as a hallmark of the friendship we share. Today, it's a loaded question.
Usually, I glare at him, and the question is answered. Today, I take a moment to think.
Too long, it seems. He inhales the rest, saving me from answering the question.
We finish, pay, leave.
On our walk back to the school, he taps me on the shoulder. "Were you actually considering it, or were you just leading me on?"
I look at him.
"That's what I thought. Assclown. See you in biology."
We part ways.
I haven't answered the question.
December 05, 2003
you know you're stuck in the suburbs when...
- the most exciting thing you've done all day is switch razors
- a fauxhawk elicits a mother covering her child's eyes in Zellers (I'm not kidding)
- the difference between pubs and restaurants is interesting discussion
December 03, 2003
being efficient by combining posts.
Sarah C. now has a blog.
for those of you keeping track, that's three blogs and one pair of headphones.
maybe I should just move into drugs.
___
I need to organize an expedition to my subconcious.
tonight's dream: we move to Louisiana, and I end up at LSU. not just me, though - I seem to remember Loewen, Vanessa, Graham, Collins&Costa, that annoying loud girl from Theatre 150, and possibly Spencer.
no, wait, Spencer was eaten by an alligator, and we held a wake.
I spent most of said dream stumbling through the Theatre Department's writing classes; most notably "Effective Playwriting through Hallucinogens", and some class where I had to cover for Loewen's absence and then got locked in the trap room, which was full of zombified monarchy.
The Queen Mother and I had tea, although she had to restrain King George multiple times; he wanted my brains.
and then I woke up.
December 02, 2003
weirdest. quiz. ever.
You are water. You're not really organic; you're
neither acidic nor basic, yet you're an acid
and a base at the same time. You're strong
willed and opinionated, but relaxed and ready
to flow. So while you often seem worthless,
without you, everything would just not work.
People should definitely drink more of you
every day.
Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
December 01, 2003
November 30, 2003
more 48 hours
I don't know if adulthood is a line that's crossed as much as it is a path: sometimes a frolic through meadow glades, other times a heavy-hearted trudge through hell and high water.
Even then, getting there is half the fun.
I don't think I've made it to the end, but I can recount a few of the bigger steps I've taken along the way:
Making the decision to skip a grade.
The entrance test for my high school.
The first bus ride to, and first day of high school.
The first month spent sleeping on the couch when I refused to share a room with my sister.
The school trip to Oregon; planning and cooking meals, seeing plays twenty times older than I was, the now-infamous Honk If You Want More Skin bus ride back.
School-based work experience; stabbing myself with a razor - barely missing a vein and a nerve, requiring three stitches, responsible for the scar at the base of my left hand. More work experience; the slow horror of an office job and the agony of being stuck at a desk all day.
Being put in charge of the yearbook: 6 people to work with, 1400 people to satisfy, 5 administrators with whom to fight for the privilege of mercilessly crushing fragile high school egos with a mere caption, carefully placed photo, or misquote.
First actual job.
First beer/joint/smoke ring.
First kiss.
First day at UBC, abandoned in a sea of people.
Finding the AUS; the value of teamwork.
Vomiting profusely at Whistler; the value of finding and respecting limits.
Judging people with Spencer; the value of nonsense and friendship.
Making billboards with Graham; the value of perseverance.
Long talks with Vanessa; realizing that I was an excellent judge of character.
Phone calls to Paige; the value of hope and the element of surprise.
Working at the PNE; knowing that this was something I couldn't do for the rest of my life.
Every minute I spent working on ACF, honing skills I never knew I had, becoming an instant expert on putting up walls whose only purpose was to get vandalised, dealing with angry tour managers (knowing when to call for help), mini donuts and topless bullriders spotted over the shoulder of my mother.
18th birthday and all that came with it.
I still call for my dad if there's a spider larger than a loonie.
My Etch-A-Sketch sees regular use.
I don't know what I want to do with my life.
I'm no adult. There will be a day when I pause and realize that I am (probably while shaving, knowing myself), but until then, I'm happy to remain a traveller.
November 29, 2003
party was awesome.
well worth getting the phone confiscated for. (if you want me, leave a message - I check it every half hour or so.)
--
the ride home was something different altogether; my dad told me not to speak, and then spent the entire car ride bitching about the sacrifices he had to make for me.
I said nothing; am amazed at the self control I am able to summon (even after 4 Gerald Specials, a glass of wine and a rum and coke that was more rum than coke)
---
looking forward to IKEA tomorrow, phone or no phone.
--
before the rumour mill starts up: I kissed Dingwall. On the cheek. At the behest of Ian Strand. For a photo. (more of a comic-strip thing, really)
November 26, 2003
remember this?
more specifically:
ex:
(during 2+2=5)
[GERALD turns around, sees GRAHAM and VANESSA]
[VANESSA grins]
GRAHAM: you're hovering [grins like small child at Christmas]
(beat drops)
[GERALD ROCKS OUT]
on the bootleg I've got (and that is spreading about the internet, it seems), Graham is heard quite clearly.
of course, this matters to nobody but me...
November 23, 2003
48 hours crosspost
travel.
moving from one place to another, watching endless tableaux swish by in a soundless blur, rendered mute and awed by the bustle that is other people.
in my daily commute, I pass through 4 cities/corporations/whatever, countless neighbourhoods (including my old one), over one river, past four car dealerships, the second largest mall in Canada, by two Telus buildings (separated by four stations), a train depot, and a toilet paper factory.
For what felt like an eternity, I couldn't handle the ride. To simply step through and over, like a pair of 20,000 league boots, making little if any impressions as I stood still and tried not to let the heartbreak show. Eventually, I would suit up like a deep-sea diver: headphones on, something english with guitars going loudly, eyes and mind buried deep in a graphic novel, I simply ignored the world. I still do, when I'm nervous about something. (witness Owen and Paige yesterday, standing behind me at Broadway Station, Owen miming pinching my posterior, while I listen to Thom Yorke wailing about chickens in his head and yuppies networking, and ponder what the interviewer's going to ask me, not noticing that they're there until Paige giggles loudly enough during a lull for me to turn around.)
but I digress. it's travel that does me in; looking down on people and the world they inhabit as you go right by, bouncing like a straight line off a circle (go tangents!), ignorant of their stories and experiences and laughter and sadness; to know that every person you go by has a story that you're missing, a talent that you'll never see, a recipe you'll never taste, a joy you'll never share.
it makes me feel tiny.
- I was in one of Paige's dreams; Owen had a Radiohead cover band and I had a crush on him.
- interview went *really* well; now it's a question of my somewhat spotty availability. and I've been invited back for summer, and also to work in their HR department when I'm done my degree.
- ghirardelli does ridiculous hazelnut hot chocolate. (I stopped at Death by Chocolate on my way back to the bus stop)
- ran into someone two grades younger from my high school that knew me (go tiny public school!), who greeted me with "dude, you were about the last person who I'd figure to become a yuppie." (I was wearing a maroon shirt, shades-of-metallic-gray striped tie, gray pants and the black shoes, while holding a paper cup with a java jacket on it ( which contained said hot chocolate))
- I coordinated lumberjack socks with my tie. And it worked.
- butter chicken went over well; I also think I managed to sate Spencer's desire to cut flesh (temporarily, I assume; permanently, I hope.)
- it's also great to cook with people who don't look over your shoulder the whole damn time and spice when you're not looking.
- la fin du monde is wonderful.
November 22, 2003
November 20, 2003
November 19, 2003
November 16, 2003
more 48 Hours crossposting
scent is the key to memory for some.
for others, it's all about the mnemonics.
for me, it's music.
so, pick a memory: it's the only one you get.
do I go with Rubix Cube, to remind me of the time I politely refused Kazzer's tour manager?
or should I pick the orchestral theme to Super Mario Bros, which was playing when I was told that I would be Upper Plaza Guy?
OK Computer, for the moments in the graphics room in my highschool, designing layouts and forging bonds with equally geeky friends?
Sulk, for those grey, rainy days whiled away playing videogames when I should've been studying?
let's go the other way:
random happy hardcore, to relive the panic that resulted from my losing an act at ACF 12?
Kylie's Fever, for when I saw that I'd failed my first university course?
U2's Beautiful Day, so I can be graduating again, walking across the stage, shaking the principal's hand, and being asked where my mother is?
Andrew WK live, to remember the pain of moving out of Vancouver?
there's a thousand thousand other moments, other notes and words that open doors in my head.
I can't choose.
no. I won't choose.
November 14, 2003
November 11, 2003
November 10, 2003
[for 48 hours]
I had an awful summer.
It started out looking great; 18 years old, job applications out all over the place, finally had my own room, prime spot in east van (far enough that I could use it as an excuse, close enough that it really wasn't.), and it looked like the world was my oyster.
four months later, I had no job (aside from the PNE, which was more being paid to tan than actual work), I'd moved to Delta(it's exactly like Surrey. no matter what anyone says, it's all the same), and my room was pink. with jungle animals on the wall. the sense of isolation was overwhelming, and the commute to my summer class was crushing; watching endless city landscapes slide by was like getting my heart torn out - I still don't know why.
granted, there were random bursts of joy; outings with friends, for normal things like turntables in the states, or ridiculous ones like slurpees in squamish, but they only served to outline the despair that had suddenly entered stage left.
I spent my the last seventy dollars in my chequing account on my radiohead ticket, and I would sit and stare at it, hoping to extract some of what I knew was coming. It didn't work.
but the day came (and paige had come back shortly before, which made it even awesomer), and I headed down to the stadium, ticket in hand. lost paige shortly thereafter, when I had to break off into the elitist wristband section (where my extra $10 went) and head in alone, guided only by a text message to meet graham stage left. (we found paige later, and another friend of ours outfitted her with a wristband.)
long story short, I had an embarassingly good time. knew the words to every song, called out titles after maybe four bars, usually more, watched, absorbed and generally enjoyed the experience of being immersed in music I loved, surrounded by unequal parts strangers and people I loved, and knowing that I was free.
that night, I had one of the most enjoyable bus rides I've ever taken. and this is my 7th year of taking the bus.
two days later, I received an all-access pass to the show, from a friend who was working backstage.
whenever I felt dislocated, or alone, or angry, or whenever I heard an argument through the walls, I would look at my pass, remember the bass of the gloaming passing through me, or phil dancing during backdrifts, or ed's improvisation at the end of just, or jonny rocking out during go to sleep, or any one of countless moments from the concert, and be back on the field at t-bird, free again.
it's a rectangular piece of cloth, somewhere between gaffer tape and denim, yellow bordered with a black and white rendition of the Hail to the Thief artwork on the cover, stamped with VANCOUVER, 8-30-03 in black.
and it's everything that's right with the world.
November 06, 2003
you can't feel cheated forever.
things make more sense now.
this doesn't change that I need to get out.
this doesn't change that I need a computer before I do so.
this doesn't change that I have wonderful friends that I love (and who love me in return)
this doesn't change that I have a self-appointed mentor who started as a running gag, and is slowly becoming sort of serious (and who I am not, under any circumstances, turning into.)
this does change how I look at things; how I react to things; how I do things.
thanks, gang.
November 04, 2003
November 02, 2003
48 hours cross-post.
for those that don't know, I signed up for Another 48 Hours 2, in which a group of bloggers is given a subject to write about, and 48 hours to write it in. there's a link on the sidebar, and here's my entry for this week:
winter light streams through useless blinds, filling a pink room with grey, and irritating the sleeper within.
roll. shuffle. wake. grasp uselessly at the trailing edge of a pleasant dream (all surrey bridges wash out; I am free of suburbia forever.) release the last trailing tendrils, and submit myself to the waking world, one sense at a time:
ears first; close by is the ticking of my wristwatch, parked on the nightstand. no schoolchildren outside, no cars on the road, no footsteps upstairs. Strain to make out a vague sound, wait, wait... it's just Dad snoring.
nose is clogged. fuck. no smells.
mouth. I don't want mine right now - last night's beer and morning breath form a film on the inside. dry tongue meets hard palate, and it feels like an alien world inside my head.
skin: I am alone, but warm, encapsulated in leopard-print.
lastly, eyes: pink room. jungle creatures on the wall. stupid hand-me-down furniture. home.
roll again, to check the time (6:40am).
shift, and return to slumber.
October 31, 2003
October 30, 2003
nerd hilarity.
"http://www.sidetalkin.com/
a little background: Nokia recently introduced the N-Gage, which is a phone, MP3 player, gaming device, and toaster.
...okay, I made the last one up, but it's not that farfetched.
It has one major design flaw: you have to hold it sideways to talk.
October 29, 2003
October 25, 2003
a) happy Diwali! it's the hindu new year, and now there's only three days left before I can eat meat again. At which point we have to go back to Salathai, 'cause that looked good.
b) happy 21st, Lana! Remember, you're not short, you're efficient.
c) happy 19th, Paige! There's really nothing I can say here that hasn't already been said.
October 24, 2003
there are days when I wish I could secede from my extended family, and thus free myself from this stupid web of soap-opera intrigue that really has nothing to do with me.
today was another one of them.
---
welcome back, graham!
I'd have been there, but you had to pick Hindu New Year's Eve to arrive.
October 21, 2003
slowly breaking my promise...
I was explaining this to Trevor, and found that I was using Spencerian hand gestures.
if I suddenly develop an affinity for mayo, please find a handy blunt object and proceed to beat some sense into me.
(nothing wrong with Spencer, mind you, I just have no plans to die at 38 of my second heart attack.)
clicky.
I've got the rest of the series in zipped JPEG format, if anyone wants it.
October 17, 2003
so, um, yeah. hi.
...I'm still startled by the content of the post below.
I know the circumstances and the events of the weekend before that brought it about, but still. It's so... angry. I almost had to check and make sure I hadn't turned green.
but that's done with.
here's some one-sentence reviews!
The String Quartet Tribute to Coldplay: so mellow it hurts.
Enigmatic: The String Quartet Tribute to Radiohead: Songs with three drummers and two guitarists do not translate well to string quartet format; otherwise see above.
Hawksley Workman: Lover/Fighter: new, and yet somehow more of the same.
Wilco: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot: someone kick me for not listening to this sooner.
Squarepusher: Feed Me Weird Things: awesome for weirding people out with, especially in the office.
1.8.7: Cities Collection: oddly fitting.
Radiohead: Scatterbrain (4Tet Remix): ridiculously good - in fact, it makes the 2 + 2 = 5 single a viable buy.
coming soon:
more Squarepusher, Boards of Canada, more d 'n' b, the Lost in Translation Soundtrack, the Bodysong Soundtrack, and Goldfrapp.
not coming soon:
random angry outbursts.
October 09, 2003
quick thoughts
4 tet remix of scatterbrain = awesome.
___
I love not having to talk to someone; just being able to go about whatever you're doing without having to fill an awkward silence is awesome.
___
no crotch-staring today, but what would I put on a sign to hang off my fly?
"roses are red,
violets are cool,
I really would prefer
you not stare at my tool"
or should I bust out some haiku?
October 08, 2003
bus rides
I hate how some people will do nothing more than stare straight ahead for the entire duration of a bus ride.
Especially when they end up spending the entire ride from Broadway to UBC focused on my crotch.
and not in the good way.
October 06, 2003
whistler was spent getting to know people better.
it's interesting how much fun you can have when you're not vomitatiously ill.
- new kids are pretty cool; I'm still not quite adjusted to being That Guy Who Knows Things.
- old people are incredibly funny; I got in on the Cock Talk this time around, and I was blown away.
- games of I Never start to suck when it turns into oneupmanship
- Hey Ya!! = instant dance party, no matter what time.
- tweed jackets = mad fun.
- head-in-lap chats = also mad fun.
- sexual hand signal-based drinking games and well-mannered history reps = SHOCKA CARL!!
there's more; there's always more, but it's the kind of thing that comes in bits and pieces.
---
at council today, I joined promo committee and the yearbook/archivist thing, which means it's time to get back into design.
someone point me in the direction of current design trends, please.
October 02, 2003
things learned within 1 hour of internet arrival:
Mozilla Firebird = awesome
Sygate Personal Firewall = awesome
Soulseek = awesome
XP updates required after 4 months offline = not awesome.
October 01, 2003
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
