Tick Tock

The needle on the motivation meter is still resting against the pin. I've spent the past few days bumming around doing nothing in particular, leaving me with nothing particularly interesting to be excited about.

The Raptors are losing some close games out west, but are at least hanging with the teams out there. The Jays have all but dotted the t's and crossed the i's on a deal with one of the top free-agents on the market this offseason. They're paying too much for him, particularly given that he's a relief pitcher, but the overall improved image of the team might be enough to attract some other players for less with the promise of a competitive team up north with our rye and ginger ale.

Those end of term assignments that have been 'coming up' are now due in piles of other similarly rushed assignments in just over a week now. I've been asked to work a day in the middle of that week, which I actually need given the current state of my wallet. And exams start the following week. You still wish you were me.

"I believe I can see the future cause I repeat the same routine..."

One day runs into the next with only the subtlest of differences between them. Each day the air gets a bit more crisp, and the wind a bit sharper in the lungs, and motivation slightly decreased.

One need only look as far as my grades during winter terms to see how much the cold weather takes out of me, although it seems counter intuitive. In the winter with its lack of daylight, and cold shutting me indoors should do nothing but provide time to churn out the reams of arbitrary assignment answers, and stay properly studied up. But it just takes the piss right out of me, and makes me wanna get pissed in my own special way.

Of late I just sit here blankly scrolling through blogs and the news, after a short time not actually absorbing the words and pictures, just seeing them and going through the motions so as to avoid doing any real work. But then I turn on the TV and lay watching a Billy Crystal movie marathon on Bravo until 4 in the morning, or sports highlights until 3, while thinking in circles, but never actually motivating myself.

Aside from the cold taking any drive out of me to get on my bike and pedal in to class, it also does a number on the low cost (read 'free') outdoor activities. At the best of times its hard to get people out to play a game of baseball, or pick-up football, as soon as it drops regularly below 10 degrees, it ends completely. On a tight budget you're left with few other options I suppose than those I've been doing, and those that I will do tomorrow. I hear Vegas is giving 7 to 1 odds on the day after tomorrow being the same.

Reunion Night

Sometimes you find yourself plodding through life, finishing all, or at least the most important of what is required of you. You block out most of the rest of the world aside from catching up on a few of the current events, and then Friday comes.

The alarm goes off first thing, and you're ready to throw the fucker out the window for interrupting your dream about Elisha Cuthbert or Keira Knightley, or whoever. Then, in your light sleep between snoozes, some dolt on the TV station you fell asleep watching the night before starts ranting off some christmas shopping bullshit.

Its still only November 17th.

And then...because the shopping wasn't enough...they have some group of overeager, happy-go-lucky kids on playing jingle bells on the trumpet. How about we commericalize this holiday a little bit more. Because the month of December isn't already the biggest month for commerce, at least in North America and Western Europe.

So after not clearing those fateful tones from my ears, I roll my ass out of bed to polish off some arbitrary, highly subjective assignment for one of my courses. It being the last assignment, and me being highly unmotivated, I put a half assed effort in, but enough for what I feel to be sufficient with the wording given.

Bike in through the wind in the face, and the snow, and the mud, which of course leaves the unavertable mudstripe up your ass and back and hand in the assignment, and even show up for a tutorial.

I find out about two hours after getting home that I 'apparently' tanked half the assignment...but being that its Friday, and that my week has been excessively long already, I ignore it and decide I'm gonna hit the bar with a buddy and some friends of his. Now a night at the bar is always good times, but in the right company, you get the priviledge of some hilarious stories. The funniest of which being from the one guy who does some troubleshooting work via the telephone for a major wireless communications company talking with a service provider about his kid: (all below paraphrased)

Service Provider Guy (SPG): ...yea, I have 2 and a half kids at home, one just reached the 'What just happened stage?'

Wireless Comms Guy (WCG): oh, one of them just hasn't reached the no crying stage?

SPG: no no, he's blind...and every time something happens we get 'What just happened?'

WCG: ..... (face it you wouldn't know what to say either)

SPG: yea, every time he trips over something: 'What happened?' 'Well, you fell on your face'.

WCG: *stifling laughter* (yes its bad, but you'd laugh too) Aww.

SPG: yea, and we took him to the zoo the other day...

At which point the conversation went off on a bunch of tangents, with the most important being, who takes their blind kid to the zoo..."what are they gonna do, smell the different kinds of shit?"

Label me as cold or whatever you will, but that's just funny, and so true...what parent brings a their blind child to the zoo, and doesn't consider the obvious sleight to the kid, come on. Then, as a curious bookend to the conversation, not five minutes later, this gaunt middle aged man sidles up to our table and starts handing out cards to everyone, not saying a word. We take the time to pass the cards to the rest of the people at the table before reading the card:

"I'm a deaf-mute (and I cannot read lips). I make my money by selling these cards, please pay whatever you feel is appropriate." On the reverse is the sign language alphabet. And me being the sucker I am, and the most likely among the group to ever carry change, I throw all the change I have his way (probably no more than $2) and watch him move on and do the exact same to the next table. After dwelling for a minute, which admittedly was a minute too long, I suggested that I should have challenged him to a game of pinball. And despite our subsequent conversation about how much money panhandlers can actually make...and then drive home to their $300 000 homes, I let it go and moved on, because after all a couple bucks is just a couple bucks.

Then, the weirdness really began. Within the next half hour we ran into 4 people we hadn't seen, and had only heard gossip about since elementary school almost 8 to 9 years ago. And after the quick calculation to check that it had infact been 8 or 9 years, and that I was infact that old, a brief exchange of that period of time occurred as we made our way out. A quick dash to the urinals on the way out, and on the way out I see 3 other people I hadn't seen since highschool on the way out. I don't know why it happens, but it always does. Always in bunches, and not just because one group of people is associated with another, as was typical of my cliquey highschool, but just random people from all over the place, and every time it throws me for a loop, mostly because it reminds me on every occasion of just how much time has passed.

Its Here...

Go Pro

It sucks when your team has to fight it out in the best division in the respective sport. As a Jays fan, I get to watch Boston and New York fight it out every year now. And watch Baltimore spend absurd amounts of money to try to compete with them, kind of like the Dodgers.

As a hockey fan, the Avs are in the best division in the NHL most years against the likes of Vancouver, Edmonton and Calgary. The new NHL has brought them all even closer together. In the old NHL I grew to accept that the Avs started slow but made ground up quickly in the second half, but with the closeness of all the teams now, it looks like the playoff spots are going to be even closer a competition than ever before, and the usually 'meaningless' games in November seem more essential.

In the NFL and NBA....well, forget them both. The 49ers aren't gonna be fighting ANYthing out any time soon, except whether to take a running back, wide receiver, or all new offensive line with the first pick in the 2006 draft. The Raptors have to add some spice and polish to the new batch of rookies before they will compete seriously, and they don't really fall into the topic of discussion anyways, as I openly admit that the West is best overall in hoops.

And finally, in NCAA Football, I've grown to be a Michigan fan through the years. Early on I figure it started from their kickass nickname, and my Marvel comic collecting. What Saturday-morning cartoon-watching kid wouldn't love a team named and modelled after the rough, deadly Wolverine of X-Men fame. And as I grew up I started to follow them a little bit more, and saw more of them on TV being the closest 'big' American college team (at least by road) I fell into their following. And soon recognized what has been well emphasized this year. They are in a perennially competitive conference with Penn State, and Michigan State, and Ohio State, and Wisconsin being the ranked big guns on the field this year. And every year they play most of their games against these guys. Every team beats up on the other, and at the end attrition picks the best of the bunch to win the conference and get to go to the most prestigious of the alotted New Years bowl games.

I suppose in the end though it makes it all the more exciting as a fan to get to watch something competitive than watch a team walk off something like the Yankees of the past 10 years, or the Lakers up until last year, or the 90's Bulls; you see what I'm saying.

Sports writers have a sweet gig. Travel around, meet famous athletes, pay attention to every score, stat, storyline and whiney overpaid bitch you can, and write on it...and they'd pay you! Sure being the actual athlete is more glamourous, but there's also the distinct lack of real pressure. Like a roadie for a rockstar, sure you gotta make sure that guitar is tuned up on time, or that there's water at the ready, and all the gear's accounted for, but you're still gonna get the girls, and travel around to the most storied bars, arenas and stadiums in the world. The exact same I would have to think holds true of sports writers.

If I had a bit more writing talent, and the ability to pull more random facts from memory, and could shed my typically overwhelming bias, I'd give it a shot. Instead, I piss people off with harsh (although often true commentary) on other teams, and spend what little writing I do right here. I'm too old already to consider the pro athlete route as the fantasy career, so I suppose I'm left with rockstar, and superstar sports writer, unless blogging eventually truly breaks through to mainstream media and there are some openings in the blogstar department.

Pick on Someone Your Own Size

Finally George W. Bush is being challenged by someone of the same mental fortitude and toughness.

They condemned U.S. President George W. Bush and his administration for refusing to respect several NAFTA rulings supporting Canadian claims that the tariffs were illegal – including a recent one by an international panel whose rulings were supposed to be binding in disputes under the North American Free Trade Agreement.

"The U.S. is just being a bully to us and keeps punching us," Matthew said.

"It's just sick and wrong."

The boys decided to make a statement by urging targeting one of the biggest and most beloved U.S. institutions – the Golden Arches.

"It's the most famous U.S. company in the world, that's why," Matthew said.

These kids deserve a lot of respect just for being aware of the situation unlike I'm sure a great portion of the population. Obviously a one day boycott isn't going to kill the company by any stretch, but what an excellent symbolic move. Maybe it will take kids like these to get through to the administration to the south.

Another Night of Drinking Older...But Not Any Wiser

Well, Wednesday night as expected was a great time. Two hours of all you can drink at the Brick Brewery to get started, and then a stumble down the street to shoot some pool, put back some more beer, and take random pictures that you don't remember when you download them from your camera two days later.

Pictures like these tend to be downloaded two days later because, as in my case, the day after is spent in a state of confusion, dizzyness and dehydration until well into the afternoon. Obviously I've had enough experience with those hydroxyls to know that you don't drink on an empty stomach, let your ass pass out without plenty of water or let your ass pass out while the room is still a bit wobbly. But I didn't let my experience control things on Wednesday night, and was visited by one hell of a hangover yesterday.

With yesterday being a total write-off, I once again left studying for an exam until the morning of. And despite all the hype and warning about how difficult it was supposed to be, it really seemed to go smoothly. Of course, the typical result of having any kind of confidence in an exam is having it handed back with a multitude of dumbass mistakes. A bad notation here. A rounding error there. Completely misreading part of a question on the last page. That's how the chips fall, and one day I'll force myself to stick with my plans to study and avoid those kind of things.

I have plenty of chances coming up far too quickly.

"Watch out for falling coconuts!"

I went out tonight for an end of season bbq/get together with my rec soccer team, which ended up leading to a wide ranging, and hilarious series of topics.

From gay nude beaches near UBC, and Fabio types, to warning signs from around the world, to stepping in warm dog and cat shit, to horny rabbits who use towels as sex toys, when you hang out with a bunch of geoscientists, you're guaranteed to hear some well travelled, twisted stories, no holds barred.

From the beaches of Costa Rica, to the bottom of caverns in New Mexico, from the volcanoes of Hawaii to the redwoods of Vancouver. Its why I fell into the field of study I'm in in the first place; the outdoors, the natural sights, the travelling. For now most of it is all related to me through the experience of others, but I have a few my own claims to great sights abroad, with only the promise of more in the future.

Its nights like these, amidst the laughter, and low comedy that I am reminded of why I put up with some of the shitty, useless courses that I do, and the overly redundant assignments and labs. In the end it will pay off, and I will be left in a field where travelling, and taking in the sights are part of the job description.

Tomorrow night promises to be filled with the same kind of hilarity on our undergrad organized tour of one of the local breweries and the likely subsequent stumble down to one of the bars down the street.

Sure I should be keeping a firm grip on my pennies. Sure I've got x-mas shopping to do shortly. But there's nothing that says that I can't have a little more fun now, while I'm relatively young and moderately able bodied. It only comes once, and I am getting to the point where I'm starting to regret letting my years roll by too quickly while I stand idly by with more aches, pains and scars seemingly each day.

Better Sit Down...

This about sums up my weekend:

Saving my harddrive was unsuccessful, I'm officially down to one last option to save all my old pictures and documents, and at best I think it has a slim to none shot of working.

None of the teams that were supposed to win in sports last night won, and Favre just threw a tipped interception at his own 20, which means at least another 3 points to overcome for me to get this underdog pick right.

At least I caught up on my sleep this weekend.

Pimp my Pride

Ahhh Fridays. Certainly no Wednesday. Today was a weird one too to keep things interesting. I woke up from a weird ass series of dreams to find out I had the van for the day, which always makes it much easier to drag myself through the motions of going to school and sitting through lectures.
Then I stumbled outside still in a half asleep daze to throw something in the garbage before the truck came by, and was greeted by sunshine and already 12 degree air. A high of 17 on the 4th of November is certainly welcomed by me, even though it made me feel mildly guilty for not biking in and taking full advantage.

A couple hours of mindless lectures later, and a school newspaper throughly perused, I got myself out of there ready to celebrate the weekend by stopping to get a cable I needed to attempt to save the harddrive that crashed a couple weeks ago. Yea, I know how to keep it exciting.

I pull into the driveway with the window down to enjoy what I'm sure will be the last nice day of 2005, and notice a familliar ticking coming from the engine of the van, reminding me that at 11 years of age, she's burned off a bit of her oil again and needs to be topped up.

On pulling the hood release to throw some oil in, the handle comes a full two inches further than its supposed to, and I cringe as I know there's another issue to be fixed (the full list is far to depressing, expensive, and in the end pointless to lay down here). I give closing the hood a couple tries, and no dice, at which point I know I won't even be able to drive out to grab whatever part I need to fix it.

With the hood release mechanism being right above the radiator, and myself being prone to needless cuts, scrapes, and burns I decided to give it some time to cool down before poking and prodding around too much more, so I come inside to throw on some grubs that have enough other stains on them that a few more grease and oil spots would just add some more character, or something like that.

I check my e-mail quick and find out the University has graciously decided to give me a bunch of money in a scholarship for this term, which after balancing my accounts this morning, is more than just a convenient occurence.

After a little bit I decide to get at the hood latch again. I'm glad its a relatively old vehicle at this point, because I have seen under the hoods of some of the new cars out there, and everything seems so awkward and inconveniently placed that I doubt I would have been able to get at anything under there. As it was, it took me a full twenty minutes to confirm my suspicion that some spring had broken.

Another ten minutes and I'd manage to bend the end of the remaining spring into shape and force it into place on the latch, and thus repair, if only temporarily, the hood latch. Amazingly, all of which done with no blood or burnt flesh, and at zero cost but my time.

Now I am left with just my harddrive to attempt to save. One of my personalities is saying that since I'm having a great day, it might actually work, while the archpersonality drives home that only so much can go right in a day. I guess we'll have to see what happens.

Hump Day

Wednesdays suck. They suck almost as much as Mondays. Those two lead the pack in being filled with suck. Aside from them being the busiest day in my schedule, it has its own universal flaws.

Wednesdays lie right in the middle of the week, right in the thick of working or going to school. The memories, those that you retained, from the weekend are fading, and Friday is still too far away to bring the promise of new ones. Its got nothing for the religious people out there. Its got nothing for social customs. Its completely useless.

The one time saving grace of any given non-Sunday was that TV schedules might align with your taste and give you a show to look forward to, on Wednesday at 9 for example. But now we live in the age of Tivo, and PVRs, and DVRs, and DVDs, and the internet, and can watch just about anything we want, whenever we want it (provided its got enough of a following).

I'm glad most of my Wednesday is over.

And on the most recent Tuesday in my schedule, i.e. yesterday, my signed copy of Stiff arrived from sunny L.A. Tony went above and beyond to do me a favour and package a book for my buddy with it, and I plan on getting started on it sometime before next Wednesday.