Must. Have. It.

Exciting things never happen much. Each day I grow a little older and do something a little odder in a vain attempt to remain youthful and fun. My efforts seem half-assed and fully unrealized. Time in the park today, was spent eating ice cream, looking at fish, poking dead fish with sticks, walking the tracks, climbing into abandoned tree-houses and throwing stones at trees. I am convinced this is the equivalent of being old and bald, sitting on a park bench with a giant bag of bread crumbs and feeding the geese.



I don't party like I used to, I don't abuse substances. I keep it within in limits because I want to drive. For some reason now that we are older we need to have a home base to come back too. In Uni crashing on someone's floor was as simple as passing out, now it involves blow up mattresses, pillows and sleeping attire. Does growing up mean you just stop doing things in excess?

The side effects can be a little crazy sometimes. I woke up at 5 to the ringing of my phone. Someone had decided to call 3 times in a row without leaving a message. By the time I awoke from my self induced coma I figured out it was my brother. The problem with people calling you at 5am, 2am in San Francisco, is you think something is wrong so you should call back. I did and with in matter of seconds my first question was "Are you drunk, stoned or high'. Then we had a half hour conversation about things my brother had to tell me and ended with a lot of "I love you's", right out of a bad beer commercial. This conversation was followed up by another call an hour later of the same sort and then a final call at noon to apologize for the first two calls.

Note to Spammers: If you are going to Spam me, as I expect you will, could you at least spell things correctly.People may want to add 'inches and stamina', but not 'inches and stmaina'.

It's not a good idea spending too much time staring at your odometers. Even if they periodically match up because the trip odometer cycles through values of the car odometer. You should probably keep an eye on the road. Especially since the OPP hover around the 407 like vultures looking for prey. Good thing you were looking at your odometer because you slowed down enoght that the other guy got pulled over.

I made the mistake of going shopping last night ->

- I am too tall for regular stores

- I am too small for big and tall stores

- I don't fit in anywhere

- Why do women like shopping so much? After trying on clothes I would imagine that a person could be left feeling defeated and unusually fixated on body image issues.

Lately my mind has been full of thoughts. It's been a year since I finished school. Back then I was excited about going on a trip, but what am I excited about now? Life has taken a 360+ and I am not sure what direction I am heading anymore, or what I even want.



Family gatherings are S&M events in my book. They're definitely painful with their rewards. Most of the time I just like to sit and keep my mouth shut and hope for an insightful conversation to come my way. Mostly because I have nothing to say and prefer to keep them from being all up in my business. I thought I was this close (wild hand movement here) to leaving the event without having to do a full press briefing on my life, but I got caught at the last second by my Aunt and her all encompassing "How's your love life?".

I just ended what was arguably the longest and most taxing day of work yet. I left early, knocked off 3 training presentations, did a scavenger hunt, hosted a lunch, random chance encounters in the afternoon and ended it all by hosting another dinner complete with 'spring basket' prizes (we try to be as critically correct as possible).



I would never in a million years thought this is what I would be doing with my CS degree. I thought I would actual work with a product or something.

It's tough being the guy who has all the crazy dreams because when you tell people about them, they don't think they are funny, they think they're a sure sign of full blown craziness and now is the time to notify the authorities.



I was on a trip with all of my old high school. Everywhere I turned there were familiar faces and every time I said 'Look at those assholes, what are they doing here?', one of my friends would retort, they've changed, they're good guys now". I didn't quite believe them, but went about the museum anyway, examining the treasure in it's nooks and crannies.



At one point we all went out to the top of the parking garage to hang out and take a break. Sitting in a giant circle we talked about whatever. I looked over and saw 8 scattered funnels of wind and freaked out; pointing and screaming that tornados were on the way. We gathered quickly and moved all of our cars out of the way, and huddled in between them. When the first funnel hit, Tracy and I went down a few floors and inside a theatre. Huddling between the rows of red velvet seats on the hard cement floor I could see the rest of the tornados approaching and watched as one smashed the window sending me to the floor and shards of glass everywhere. Tracy's cat Logan was there on the ground (your guess is as good as mine as to why Tracy has brought her cat to a trip to the museum), comforting us by licking our hands. In a last ditch attempt we ran for a bus and hauled ourselves in it. It was immediately sucked in by the twister and we were sent hurling upwards. I blacked out.



When I woke up a Matthew Good song was playing denoting the sense of flying high into the sky until their was no oxygen left and suffocating at the beautiful sight of the earth. The bus went hurling down and landed on a hill with minimal impact. I scrambled for the wheel, hot-wired the bus (something I know how to do in dreams) and proceeded to drive even though I had no idea where I was going. In the end I lead us down highways and country roads to a small community that had been flooded.

A tiny little drop plummeted to my paper. Splashing out leaving a perfect ring of droplets around it. It was like in Mission Impossible when Tom Cruise catches his sweat in his gloved hand. I was on the phone rejecting someone for some reason or another when it happened. This has never happened before. I quickly ended the conversation saying I would call back, but wanted to say "I'll call back after I mop up this blood spill". That's the last time I do a line of cocaine in the office!

Because I can't think of any orginal content on my own and am working on a plan for a recount of The One ->


Top Ten Reasons Why Canada will not join USA in the War on Iraq



10. We have no way of getting there.

9. We are too busy at home with the Maple Syrup Season.

8. After 136 Years, we are still copying off France.

7. Saddam's name pronounced backwards is "Mad Ass". We'll stay away from him.

6. There is only limited potential for sales of Canadian Bacon in Iraq after the war.

5. Our Sea King Helicopter was damaged and needs repairs.

4. Celine Dionne can't sing to the troops because she has a contract in Las Vegas.

3. The Rivers in Iraq are too shallow for our War Canoes.

2. Lousy hockey in Iraq at this time of year

1. Our army is needed at home in case of another snow storm in Toronto

reLAX guy. That's what the powers that be were thinking when they threw down sleet and ice from the heavens above covering all things man made including my car. There is a strange beauty in something covered in ice which is quickly lost as you try to chisel your car out of the driveway on the way to see Bend it like Beckham because you have been sequestered in your friends house all day and the previous night, stuck doing work even though everyone else in the GTA is probably sitting in front of a fire laughing at all the poor shlubs that have to work, bloody brilliant that is.



Any movie that has the word shag in it is good in my books, it could have used a good snog somewhere though. It gave me a nice fuzzy feeling without being overtly syrupy sweet. It made me want to eat some Indian food and play a good game of Football.



Guy: I really like Beckham.

Girl: But your Indian!