I'm sitting here at my computer, thinking about all the things I have to do today.
Right now, I'm going over the inventory sheets I was tasked with making for le bisou (my bar), making sure I've got everything. I was just on the phone with my boss, Dutch, and he said he's going to text me a list so that I can confirm the list I had made. I find it interesting that I've only been an employee for a month, and I'm already being trusted with a task as important as making the inventory sheets that will be used from here on out for the resto-bar (or at least until I make an updated version based on stock).
Later, I have to get to my grandmother's house to help with some yardwork that I promised I would do. Not a promise I regret making, nor a task I'd have a bad time doing. The sole annoyance lies in the fact that I need to get to Lachine with a large electric hedge trimmer somehow, and I don't know if I'd be allowed on the bus with such a piece of equipment (let alone two busses, as it takes to get there). And it does add some time constraint to my schedule for the day.
After that, I need to head further east into the downtown area. To go to work. We won't be open tonight, but we are doing a large clean-up (most of the staff and such) of the whole place, top to bottom. I'm hoping to be able to reorganize the cellar a little bit (where we lock up all our booze when we're not open), for the sake of efficiency.
With these three things, my day seems to be full.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Everything
Everything changes. The natural course of life involves such change, no? Now, I don't know much about everything, but I can tell you that a lot has changed in the course of my life in the recent times. Some changes are big, others are small, and some are just... are just changes, I suppose.
I'm nineteen now. My birthday came and passed. Not a whole lot of people remembered, but hey, I'm not complaining. Heck, I wasn't expecting anyone to remember. And no, this isn't me saying "oof, no one's going to remember, this sucks," this is me saying "hey, it's nice if you remembered, but it's not a big deal if you don't!" I didn't expect nineteen to feel any different than eighteen, but somehow, I feel something's different. I don't know what (sorry), but there's something there.
Theatre... I have decided to switch out of the theatre program. A decision that did not come lightly. It's the one thing I had been gearing my life towards for the last seven or eight years. But doing it in college, in school, has started to lose it's thrill. And I feel that if I did continue it, it'd lose it's thrill entirely. And I don't want that to happen. So I applied for a change of program... into Media Arts. Primarily for Film Production and Photography. These things have always been of some interest to me, and so I thought I'd go for it! I'm super excited to try my hand at these things, and learn more about it. As for theatre and such things; I can continue to pursue that on my own, outside of school.
I am no longer unemployed. I bartend now, actually. At Le Bisou, the restaurant/bar that belongs to my sister's boyfriend. Downtown too, in the Plateau of all places (this area tends to get quite busy as the weather warms up). I've done a handful of nights so far, and have made some pretty decent money too. I love the job. The second I got behind the bar, I felt as if everything that followed was natural instinct/ability. The mixing of drinks, making up recipes, interacting with my coworkers and customers... it's a lot of fun. Or I find it is, anyway.
School's over now, and summer vacation is in full swing. I plan on working as much as I can, saving up, and enjoying the time off to the best of my ability. Not let things get me down, y'know? Y'know. And that starts tonight, with a trip to The Pound (which I haven't been to in ages, heh.)
I'm nineteen now. My birthday came and passed. Not a whole lot of people remembered, but hey, I'm not complaining. Heck, I wasn't expecting anyone to remember. And no, this isn't me saying "oof, no one's going to remember, this sucks," this is me saying "hey, it's nice if you remembered, but it's not a big deal if you don't!" I didn't expect nineteen to feel any different than eighteen, but somehow, I feel something's different. I don't know what (sorry), but there's something there.
Theatre... I have decided to switch out of the theatre program. A decision that did not come lightly. It's the one thing I had been gearing my life towards for the last seven or eight years. But doing it in college, in school, has started to lose it's thrill. And I feel that if I did continue it, it'd lose it's thrill entirely. And I don't want that to happen. So I applied for a change of program... into Media Arts. Primarily for Film Production and Photography. These things have always been of some interest to me, and so I thought I'd go for it! I'm super excited to try my hand at these things, and learn more about it. As for theatre and such things; I can continue to pursue that on my own, outside of school.
I am no longer unemployed. I bartend now, actually. At Le Bisou, the restaurant/bar that belongs to my sister's boyfriend. Downtown too, in the Plateau of all places (this area tends to get quite busy as the weather warms up). I've done a handful of nights so far, and have made some pretty decent money too. I love the job. The second I got behind the bar, I felt as if everything that followed was natural instinct/ability. The mixing of drinks, making up recipes, interacting with my coworkers and customers... it's a lot of fun. Or I find it is, anyway.
School's over now, and summer vacation is in full swing. I plan on working as much as I can, saving up, and enjoying the time off to the best of my ability. Not let things get me down, y'know? Y'know. And that starts tonight, with a trip to The Pound (which I haven't been to in ages, heh.)
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Metabolism
I haven't been eating much lately. Sure, I still eat "a lot" (to me), but apparently to everyone else, I'm not "eating enough." But it's fine. When I eat, I eat a lot and I eat pretty healthily. And I'm in the best shape I've ever been in. I know I might've said that at some point in the past, but even moreso now. I was happy with my shape last summer, but now I like it even more now.
But this isn't about my diet or lifestyle of exercise. It's about heaven on earth. A microwavable deep dish frozen pizza from M&M's. And I just nuked one, about to try it for the first time. And it looks SO good.
But this isn't about my diet or lifestyle of exercise. It's about heaven on earth. A microwavable deep dish frozen pizza from M&M's. And I just nuked one, about to try it for the first time. And it looks SO good.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
I just smiled big.
I don't know what it is. I don't know what did it. But I seriously just smiled. All of a sudden. No particular reason. A feeling of happiness just washed over me. It's nice. I'm enjoying it. But I do have one note for it; I think I'd be able to fully appreciate it if I knew what it was that made me smile big all of a sudden...
...but hey, I'm smiling anyway. Heh.
...but hey, I'm smiling anyway. Heh.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Slack
So I haven't been the most attentive blogger in the world. In all honesty, I haven't been in much mood for writing the past couple weeks. Be it fiction or non-fiction. My fourth book was "on hold" for a really long time due to this writer's block. But it wasn't just writer's block; it was affecting my creative flow as a whole. If my creativity were a river, it was as if someone installed a dam. And damn did it suck.
Recently, however, that dam broke. Entirely. I came up with a lot of plot ideas and characters and the next several chapters for my fourth book. My creative thought process has returned to my in-class activities, which helps me rethink and redo certain choreography in class to help improve them.
The few weeks while I had that block though... it was rough. It stressed me out, quite a bit. Made me worry about classes and such. It's nice having the block gone though. I can relax again.
Things can get back into motion.
Recently, however, that dam broke. Entirely. I came up with a lot of plot ideas and characters and the next several chapters for my fourth book. My creative thought process has returned to my in-class activities, which helps me rethink and redo certain choreography in class to help improve them.
The few weeks while I had that block though... it was rough. It stressed me out, quite a bit. Made me worry about classes and such. It's nice having the block gone though. I can relax again.
Things can get back into motion.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Nay; The Tale
In Nay; An Intro, I wrote that I had a good day. "Actually; nay. It was a great day." This is the tale of that very day, but first it requires some explanation.
In Theatre, in place of midterm written exams, we get interviews with any of our teachers (within the program) that request it. For Carol (Movement/Creation) and Rob (Acting), this happens without question (Terry being the only exception currently, but I know he'll do it for end of semester). Within these interviews, we're told where our strengths lie, what our weaknesses seem to be, and whether or not we need to be concerned about our performance in class.
And now, the Tale itself.
Fridays, for me at school, normally go like this: Theatre Creation class, Voice class, then Acting class. This particular friday, however, was different. Carol was still doing interviews, so in place of Creation class, we had the open studio; we could work on anything we liked, as long as it was Theatre related. I got to work with Katherine, who's my scene partner for an upcoming "Scene Study" in Acting class. We got a lot of progress, which made the beginning of this day excellent.
In Voice class, we're doing work with poetry. I had brought in my poem, and was ready to read. While I didn't get to read it, I did have a blast in this class none the less; as a warm up, we danced and sung and opened up our bodies and voices. And then we all sat down with Terry, as we always did, and we talked. We just talked. This voice class not only lived up to the excellent start of the day, but it helped make it all that much better.
Acting class was cancelled, but because Rob was doing his interviews. I had an hour and a quarter to kill before my interview. I was nervous, and anxious, and worried. But at the same time, I was confident. Partially because of how good my day was so far, and partially because I knew I was improving since last semester.
But before my interview, with the time to kill, I spent forty-five minutes with my classmate Gillian. We were listening to our iPods, trying to come up with a list of potential songs for an upcoming "Movement Piece" project. It was really nice, because it was relaxing, and extremely stress-free in the sense that "this is a project that isn't due for at least another three or four weeks and we're already working hard on it so i won't have to worry about it later."
Now the interview with Rob itself. The big number.
It could not have gone better in my mind. We just talked. Some personal, "what's going on at home" stuff, my work over the semester so far and upcoming projects. I had improved since last semester, and said improvement will continue with all the stuff coming up that I'm getting a good head start on!
After the interview, I was obligation and class free for the rest of the day. I stayed at school for a while, hanging out with some people I see everyday (and love seeing), and some people I don't often see. Even taught some kids how to stop time (yes, that's right, "stop time").
So this was Nay; The Tale. It was the best day I had in a long time. And now, if there is ever a day where I question my theatrical abilities or my place at school, I can just think about Fri. March 13th 2009. And when I think about it, I'll remember how great things can be.
In Theatre, in place of midterm written exams, we get interviews with any of our teachers (within the program) that request it. For Carol (Movement/Creation) and Rob (Acting), this happens without question (Terry being the only exception currently, but I know he'll do it for end of semester). Within these interviews, we're told where our strengths lie, what our weaknesses seem to be, and whether or not we need to be concerned about our performance in class.
And now, the Tale itself.
Fridays, for me at school, normally go like this: Theatre Creation class, Voice class, then Acting class. This particular friday, however, was different. Carol was still doing interviews, so in place of Creation class, we had the open studio; we could work on anything we liked, as long as it was Theatre related. I got to work with Katherine, who's my scene partner for an upcoming "Scene Study" in Acting class. We got a lot of progress, which made the beginning of this day excellent.
In Voice class, we're doing work with poetry. I had brought in my poem, and was ready to read. While I didn't get to read it, I did have a blast in this class none the less; as a warm up, we danced and sung and opened up our bodies and voices. And then we all sat down with Terry, as we always did, and we talked. We just talked. This voice class not only lived up to the excellent start of the day, but it helped make it all that much better.
Acting class was cancelled, but because Rob was doing his interviews. I had an hour and a quarter to kill before my interview. I was nervous, and anxious, and worried. But at the same time, I was confident. Partially because of how good my day was so far, and partially because I knew I was improving since last semester.
But before my interview, with the time to kill, I spent forty-five minutes with my classmate Gillian. We were listening to our iPods, trying to come up with a list of potential songs for an upcoming "Movement Piece" project. It was really nice, because it was relaxing, and extremely stress-free in the sense that "this is a project that isn't due for at least another three or four weeks and we're already working hard on it so i won't have to worry about it later."
Now the interview with Rob itself. The big number.
It could not have gone better in my mind. We just talked. Some personal, "what's going on at home" stuff, my work over the semester so far and upcoming projects. I had improved since last semester, and said improvement will continue with all the stuff coming up that I'm getting a good head start on!
After the interview, I was obligation and class free for the rest of the day. I stayed at school for a while, hanging out with some people I see everyday (and love seeing), and some people I don't often see. Even taught some kids how to stop time (yes, that's right, "stop time").
So this was Nay; The Tale. It was the best day I had in a long time. And now, if there is ever a day where I question my theatrical abilities or my place at school, I can just think about Fri. March 13th 2009. And when I think about it, I'll remember how great things can be.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Nay; An Intro
Today was a good day. Actually; nay. It was a great day.
But right now isn't the best time for me to be doing this, so expect a report later!
But right now isn't the best time for me to be doing this, so expect a report later!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Black and White
The Canadian Improv Games. This nation-wide high school tournament literally shaped who I am today. Back when I was in high school, this extra-curricular activity didn't change who I am, it made me who I am. I played in three regional tournaments for my school, and made it to the nationals in my graduating year. Which, at the time, was my dream. I spent all five of my years at John Rennie High School dreaming about winning the Montreal CIG, and making it to Ottawa to compete with the best in Canada. That dream came true.
Best part was, during 2007, my final year of JRHS and my last chance to be a competitor in the games, a woman named Sandra Chwialkowska went all across the country, visiting schools and students all over Canada, making a documentary about the Canadian Improv Games (during it's 30th anniversary). And not only did she interview the kids, but she interviewed the people that make it happen. Including the national directors, the head-ref (yes, there are referees) of the national tournament, and even David Sheperd, who was one of the founding fathers of improvisation and the CIG, and what it is today.
I went to Ottawa last night to see the big screen premiere of In The Moment, which was amazing. I managed to get a copy of the documentary on DVD a year ago, but it's making it's way through Canada now on select-big-screens, which is absolutely phenominal for Sandra... and for me. Y'see, I'm in this documentary. Sandra interviewed thousands of students, and picked six (or so) for it to focus on. And I'm one of the six. And I have one word concerning that; fucking wow.
It's been two years since my high school dream came true. And I've still been involved with CIG in these years. For the 2008 tournament, I was the coach of one of JRHS' improv teams, and I couldn't've been prouder than my kids. I still am, even though I'm not coaching anymore. Instead, I'm on stage, wearing the black and white jersey of the games' very own referees. I'm the Time-Keeper for the Montreal games.
Tonight is the final round of Montreal's Canadian Improv Games 2009. I don't know how last night of semi-finals went, since I was in Ottawa, but I am confident that both Rennie teams made it to finals, as they tend to do. This year is their year, I feel. Because even though JRHS didn't take home the gold in 2008, they have a tradition to live up to this year. You see, the trophy for the Montreal games is a painting of a matador. Plaques are lined up on both sides of the painting. And the entire left side of the painting is held by John Rennie High School. 2009 is a left-side year for the games, and Rennie hasn't lost one yet.
But that doesn't really matter to me. It'd be amazing if Rennie did it and went back to Nationals and took on the best of the country again, don't get me wrong. But I'm not on a team, and thus my cheer is for "Everyone," as improv has been, is, and always will be about everyone involved.
I'm bringing my camera to the games tonight, so hopefully I'll get some good photos. If I do, expect them soon.
Best part was, during 2007, my final year of JRHS and my last chance to be a competitor in the games, a woman named Sandra Chwialkowska went all across the country, visiting schools and students all over Canada, making a documentary about the Canadian Improv Games (during it's 30th anniversary). And not only did she interview the kids, but she interviewed the people that make it happen. Including the national directors, the head-ref (yes, there are referees) of the national tournament, and even David Sheperd, who was one of the founding fathers of improvisation and the CIG, and what it is today.
I went to Ottawa last night to see the big screen premiere of In The Moment, which was amazing. I managed to get a copy of the documentary on DVD a year ago, but it's making it's way through Canada now on select-big-screens, which is absolutely phenominal for Sandra... and for me. Y'see, I'm in this documentary. Sandra interviewed thousands of students, and picked six (or so) for it to focus on. And I'm one of the six. And I have one word concerning that; fucking wow.
It's been two years since my high school dream came true. And I've still been involved with CIG in these years. For the 2008 tournament, I was the coach of one of JRHS' improv teams, and I couldn't've been prouder than my kids. I still am, even though I'm not coaching anymore. Instead, I'm on stage, wearing the black and white jersey of the games' very own referees. I'm the Time-Keeper for the Montreal games.
Tonight is the final round of Montreal's Canadian Improv Games 2009. I don't know how last night of semi-finals went, since I was in Ottawa, but I am confident that both Rennie teams made it to finals, as they tend to do. This year is their year, I feel. Because even though JRHS didn't take home the gold in 2008, they have a tradition to live up to this year. You see, the trophy for the Montreal games is a painting of a matador. Plaques are lined up on both sides of the painting. And the entire left side of the painting is held by John Rennie High School. 2009 is a left-side year for the games, and Rennie hasn't lost one yet.
But that doesn't really matter to me. It'd be amazing if Rennie did it and went back to Nationals and took on the best of the country again, don't get me wrong. But I'm not on a team, and thus my cheer is for "Everyone," as improv has been, is, and always will be about everyone involved.
I'm bringing my camera to the games tonight, so hopefully I'll get some good photos. If I do, expect them soon.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Sleep
Somehow, this week has been mostly good on me for sleep. I've somehow managed to get to bed before 11pm several nights this week, meaning I actually managed to get a decent amount of sleep each of these nights, meaning I was relatively well rested for school. Amazing? Yes. How did the insomniac do it? I've no fucking clue.
Tomorrow should kick some ass though. If I recall correctly, we have a special guy coming into combat class tomorrow morning. And if my recollections are at all accurate and the guy actually is coming in, that means doing some awesome new things. Hopefully some work with weapons. I'm down for learning how to kick ass and take names with a bo staff. Donatello was one of my favorite Ninja Turtles, after all.
Then after combat, it's voice class, and then after voice, I got my hefty hour-and-a-half break, followed by an hour long meeting. I think I might either spend the break with friends, or in the school's gym. It wouldn't hurt to work out some, eh? Get this boy a little more built. Maybe get a little more good-looking. Or something to give myself a little bit of a self-esteem/self-confidence.
Tomorrow should kick some ass though. If I recall correctly, we have a special guy coming into combat class tomorrow morning. And if my recollections are at all accurate and the guy actually is coming in, that means doing some awesome new things. Hopefully some work with weapons. I'm down for learning how to kick ass and take names with a bo staff. Donatello was one of my favorite Ninja Turtles, after all.
Then after combat, it's voice class, and then after voice, I got my hefty hour-and-a-half break, followed by an hour long meeting. I think I might either spend the break with friends, or in the school's gym. It wouldn't hurt to work out some, eh? Get this boy a little more built. Maybe get a little more good-looking. Or something to give myself a little bit of a self-esteem/self-confidence.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Wednesdays Off
Somehow, I managed my school schedule to have Wednesdays off. A lot of people wondered why on earth I would want that day off instead of Fridays (thus extending my weekend). Well, the reason is: I didn't. Pre-Registration folks in the registrar's office managed to give me the Wednesdays off in the first place. I had nothing to do with that. But when I found out, it made sense to me. Because now my "days at school" vs. "days off of school" go in this order:
Two days off (weekend), two days of school (Monday and Tuesday), one day off (Wednesday), two days of school (Thursday and Friday), and then back to two days off (weekend).
Which is nice altogether. But on this particular Wednesday, of the first week of school, it came in handy.
Yesterday I had an allergy test. A simple skin test, where they put a drop of a thing (whatever they test you for), and then they give you a tiny scratch where the drop is. Then we wait and see if there's a reaction. Well I had this test yesterday, for all types of foods and food-related-things. Guess what! I didn't really react to anything. At least on skin wise. But my muscles started screaming at me, so much that it hurt just to move in certain ways. I started sneezing at first, and then those turned into coughing. Nose got snuffly, and I got a temperature. I was hot, but I felt as if I was freezing. It was one of those temperature things where you feel freezing even with three blankets, but with a fourth blanket you feel way too hot, and you can't find a happy median at all. I personally think that this is somehow allergy related, but the doctors were all like "No, no, it shouldn't affect anything but your skin."
Anyway, I ended up not going to any of my classes yesterday because of it, and I'm still not feeling well today. So at least I only missed one day of school for it, eh? I suppose the funny part is that I'll find out if all of this is allergy related or not, as next wednesday I have another appointment with the allergy folk.
Joy.
Two days off (weekend), two days of school (Monday and Tuesday), one day off (Wednesday), two days of school (Thursday and Friday), and then back to two days off (weekend).
Which is nice altogether. But on this particular Wednesday, of the first week of school, it came in handy.
Yesterday I had an allergy test. A simple skin test, where they put a drop of a thing (whatever they test you for), and then they give you a tiny scratch where the drop is. Then we wait and see if there's a reaction. Well I had this test yesterday, for all types of foods and food-related-things. Guess what! I didn't really react to anything. At least on skin wise. But my muscles started screaming at me, so much that it hurt just to move in certain ways. I started sneezing at first, and then those turned into coughing. Nose got snuffly, and I got a temperature. I was hot, but I felt as if I was freezing. It was one of those temperature things where you feel freezing even with three blankets, but with a fourth blanket you feel way too hot, and you can't find a happy median at all. I personally think that this is somehow allergy related, but the doctors were all like "No, no, it shouldn't affect anything but your skin."
Anyway, I ended up not going to any of my classes yesterday because of it, and I'm still not feeling well today. So at least I only missed one day of school for it, eh? I suppose the funny part is that I'll find out if all of this is allergy related or not, as next wednesday I have another appointment with the allergy folk.
Joy.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
School's No Longer Out (and it wasn't even summer)
Day one of school was a success. Got to see my classmates, and I hadn't seen most of them over the six weeks of break. Had only two classes; Movement and Voice. Finished classes at 11.30am, and stuck around to hang out with friends. It all went well. Good classes, good fun. Now to make everyday as good as this day. I hope all my other classes are just as good.
I noticed something today; while I was at school, I had the feeling that there were significantly more beautiful people this semester than last. More as in how many, just to clarify. I don't really know why, but maybe it was...
- Just everyone dressing up for the first day of school, or;
- Because everyone was smiling and happy to see everyone else again, or;
- There really are a lot more beautiful people at Abbott now. But I don't know.
But seriously, a lot of beautiful people. And I wasn't the only one who noticed either.
My friends... seeing everyone today, friends and classmates alike, made a six week break feel like a long weekend. I literally asked one of my classmates "How was your weekend?" instead of "How were your holidays?", slipping immediately back into that Monday morning routine. But that's a good thing. Even if we haven't seen one another in over a month, it means that we're picking up right where we left off. And I have two words to say to that.
Sweet deal.
More details on school related things later!
Update (the next morning): Wow. All of my muscles are screaming at me. It hurts to even just move. I think it was the "welcome back" warm-up/work-out Carol put us (theatre kids) through yesterday in our first class. But seriously, major ouchies.
I noticed something today; while I was at school, I had the feeling that there were significantly more beautiful people this semester than last. More as in how many, just to clarify. I don't really know why, but maybe it was...
- Just everyone dressing up for the first day of school, or;
- Because everyone was smiling and happy to see everyone else again, or;
- There really are a lot more beautiful people at Abbott now. But I don't know.
But seriously, a lot of beautiful people. And I wasn't the only one who noticed either.
My friends... seeing everyone today, friends and classmates alike, made a six week break feel like a long weekend. I literally asked one of my classmates "How was your weekend?" instead of "How were your holidays?", slipping immediately back into that Monday morning routine. But that's a good thing. Even if we haven't seen one another in over a month, it means that we're picking up right where we left off. And I have two words to say to that.
Sweet deal.
More details on school related things later!
Update (the next morning): Wow. All of my muscles are screaming at me. It hurts to even just move. I think it was the "welcome back" warm-up/work-out Carol put us (theatre kids) through yesterday in our first class. But seriously, major ouchies.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Ash
So this cat isn't mine. But I met him the day my friend "adopted" him. Originally his name was "Baby" (no idea why), but we got to rename him. I came up with Ash, and it stuck. Because he's gray. Eight months old. Really cute. So I consider Ash half my cat, hehe.
But the reason I put "adopted" in quotation marks is because we only have him for a month. My friend does this thing, once in a while, where she'll take a sick cat from the SPCA and help nurse it to health over the span of a month, and then return it to the SPCA, no matter how attached we grow to said cat (Ash, in this case).
I don't have any photos of Ash yet, but I'll try to remember to bring my camera next time I'm over at the apartment where he's living.
School starts tomorrow. I'm actually looking forward to it. I have been for a while, actually.
But the reason I put "adopted" in quotation marks is because we only have him for a month. My friend does this thing, once in a while, where she'll take a sick cat from the SPCA and help nurse it to health over the span of a month, and then return it to the SPCA, no matter how attached we grow to said cat (Ash, in this case).
I don't have any photos of Ash yet, but I'll try to remember to bring my camera next time I'm over at the apartment where he's living.
School starts tomorrow. I'm actually looking forward to it. I have been for a while, actually.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Yesterday
This feels a little strange, to be honest. I look around me and I know that the world's the same. It's still rotating and revolving around our star. Time ticks on. I could continue with this near-poetic type of narrative, but it'd just be my way of distracting from what this is really about.
Yesterday, a man named Rolf Smart passed away. He hadn't been doing well for a while, and was in the hospital. He wasn't in pain, or suffering, but it still happened. A terrible loss for a number of people, myself included. This man was my grandfather. My mother's father. The man who's name is my middle name.
When my parents divorced when I was six, my mother took me and my sister to live with her (my mother's) parents. We lived there for little more than six years. Every morning before school, I had an apple and some cheese, which my grandfather had set out for me. He helped me with my (former) love of trains, with pictures and an electric train-set in the basement. He showed me how to build things with the workshop he had in the basement, like a little wooden boat which was a bath toy. He taught me how to tie a necktie, and even gave me a few of his, which I still have and wear to this day.
In the past few years we weren't as close as we used to be. Since Mum got a place of her own, he and I didn't see one another as often, and we didn't speak as often either. But he was still that man, who taught me so many things, big and small, who left me so many things. Even on a genetic level; he's one of the reasons I'm as tall as I am, heh.
I really am not that good at this type of thing. But I miss him. I saw him on Friday night, just little more than a day before we lost him. I thought then that it was hard to think of words to say, but that moment seems to be in the shadow of this one.
In other news: still waiting for my mark to be changed, and school starts in a week. I'm also (apparently) no longer in the cabaret I was a part of; I missed yesterday's rehearsal because of what happened, and apparently an announcement was made at the end of the rehearsal saying that I was no longer part of it. I wonder what will happen next...
Currently: browsing the net, and listening to the album of this lovely little musical which I always enjoy, called "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change." I'd read comics, but I don't have any that are new to me, and I don't feel like reading my old ones.
Yesterday, a man named Rolf Smart passed away. He hadn't been doing well for a while, and was in the hospital. He wasn't in pain, or suffering, but it still happened. A terrible loss for a number of people, myself included. This man was my grandfather. My mother's father. The man who's name is my middle name.
When my parents divorced when I was six, my mother took me and my sister to live with her (my mother's) parents. We lived there for little more than six years. Every morning before school, I had an apple and some cheese, which my grandfather had set out for me. He helped me with my (former) love of trains, with pictures and an electric train-set in the basement. He showed me how to build things with the workshop he had in the basement, like a little wooden boat which was a bath toy. He taught me how to tie a necktie, and even gave me a few of his, which I still have and wear to this day.
In the past few years we weren't as close as we used to be. Since Mum got a place of her own, he and I didn't see one another as often, and we didn't speak as often either. But he was still that man, who taught me so many things, big and small, who left me so many things. Even on a genetic level; he's one of the reasons I'm as tall as I am, heh.
I really am not that good at this type of thing. But I miss him. I saw him on Friday night, just little more than a day before we lost him. I thought then that it was hard to think of words to say, but that moment seems to be in the shadow of this one.
In other news: still waiting for my mark to be changed, and school starts in a week. I'm also (apparently) no longer in the cabaret I was a part of; I missed yesterday's rehearsal because of what happened, and apparently an announcement was made at the end of the rehearsal saying that I was no longer part of it. I wonder what will happen next...
Currently: browsing the net, and listening to the album of this lovely little musical which I always enjoy, called "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change." I'd read comics, but I don't have any that are new to me, and I don't feel like reading my old ones.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Twiddle Your Thumbs
Good morning two-thousand-nine! It's about freakin' time you got here. In the famous words of my best friend; "Fuck 2008, she was a bitch anyway!" (Well, not really. A lot of things happened in oh-eight that I'll never forget and cherish for a long time, but it certainly was a hell of a send off... here, I'll just tell you the story.)
New Year's Eve was a mix of good and bad. The good being I met tons of fantastic new people, enjoyed partying with my oldest and best friends (and by partying I mean two parties), drank enough that I shouldn't remember the night but still do and can still smile about it! The bad was that I got punched, twice, at the first party. But it was just this huge issue of miscommunication, and I was the better man by walking away and not hitting back. Oh, and the one night of partying turned into not-getting-home-until-several-days-later, but it wasn't a binge or anything like that. Just chilling with friends, new and old, and enjoying life with junk food, movies, mini-embarrassing-dance-parties, and singing solos and duets along with youtube videos. Oh, and waking up a sleeping elephant seal. And that last one might possibly be one of the most entertaining things, regardless of you being sober or not.
The story with the quote is that Paws wrote across the knuckles of our entire group F-U-C-K 2-0-0-8, and on a few of our arms the quote itself. Before the countdown, we all went around to different people, telling them to call it out when we officially hit 2009. Didn't expect many people to do it, but when it happened, at least half the party yelled it out so loudly that we were easily heard over the band that was playing. Sick, no?
That just about sums that up. I might do a more detailed report of the ushering in of 2009 when I'm at home with my keyboard. We'll see.
So now I play the waiting game. Remember the whole probation deal? Well, I reached the teacher and the school, was given a test that if I get four out of fifteen right, I pass the course. I aimed to get all fifteen things right, personally. So that was done and handed in yesterday (emailed in, more accurately), and now I just have to wait for that mark to change, and then I am home-free concerning school. But, now that that work is behind me, I realized something:
A lot of my program classmates knew about my situation, and no one cared/cares to see how it all faired. Well, not true, one person actually asked me how I was feeling and it came up and she expressed hope and confidence that I'd make it. I suppose the punch line of this joke is that it wasn't any of the people I hoped/expected it to be. It does lead to another interesting thought, however:
What will everyone's faces look like when they see me there again? Classmates, former and current, those who dislike me and do like me, and everyone else. No matter what, though, I'll walk in with a smile, regardless of whether or not everyone else is smiling. Haha!
I get the feeling that this year might hold a lot of potential. Or at least as much potential as I put into it and myself. Woot woot.
New Year's Eve was a mix of good and bad. The good being I met tons of fantastic new people, enjoyed partying with my oldest and best friends (and by partying I mean two parties), drank enough that I shouldn't remember the night but still do and can still smile about it! The bad was that I got punched, twice, at the first party. But it was just this huge issue of miscommunication, and I was the better man by walking away and not hitting back. Oh, and the one night of partying turned into not-getting-home-until-several-days-later, but it wasn't a binge or anything like that. Just chilling with friends, new and old, and enjoying life with junk food, movies, mini-embarrassing-dance-parties, and singing solos and duets along with youtube videos. Oh, and waking up a sleeping elephant seal. And that last one might possibly be one of the most entertaining things, regardless of you being sober or not.
The story with the quote is that Paws wrote across the knuckles of our entire group F-U-C-K 2-0-0-8, and on a few of our arms the quote itself. Before the countdown, we all went around to different people, telling them to call it out when we officially hit 2009. Didn't expect many people to do it, but when it happened, at least half the party yelled it out so loudly that we were easily heard over the band that was playing. Sick, no?
That just about sums that up. I might do a more detailed report of the ushering in of 2009 when I'm at home with my keyboard. We'll see.
So now I play the waiting game. Remember the whole probation deal? Well, I reached the teacher and the school, was given a test that if I get four out of fifteen right, I pass the course. I aimed to get all fifteen things right, personally. So that was done and handed in yesterday (emailed in, more accurately), and now I just have to wait for that mark to change, and then I am home-free concerning school. But, now that that work is behind me, I realized something:
A lot of my program classmates knew about my situation, and no one cared/cares to see how it all faired. Well, not true, one person actually asked me how I was feeling and it came up and she expressed hope and confidence that I'd make it. I suppose the punch line of this joke is that it wasn't any of the people I hoped/expected it to be. It does lead to another interesting thought, however:
What will everyone's faces look like when they see me there again? Classmates, former and current, those who dislike me and do like me, and everyone else. No matter what, though, I'll walk in with a smile, regardless of whether or not everyone else is smiling. Haha!
I get the feeling that this year might hold a lot of potential. Or at least as much potential as I put into it and myself. Woot woot.
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