Nothing is more bone chilling and heart wrenching than seeing the flag at half mast. I would like to raise a cyber flag at half mast for Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. who died on April 11, 2007 at the ripe age of 84. He is one of my favourite authors and I heard word of his death just as I started re-reading Slaughterhouse Five this week. Strange.
It's sad when a brilliant mind leaves our humble planet for the starry sky, but I guess that's just the way she goes.
You should read him. If you have already done so, read him again.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Sometimes ordinary is extraordinary...
Ever have those days where they're just sorta blah, sorta meh? Nothing goes wrong but nothing exceptionally right happens?
The weather is dreary but not worth complaining about. You bicker about the same old things, like esoteric fax technology at work, only to find someone has bought a new one. But I liked the old one, it didn't work, nor will the new one as I'm convinced that faxing isn't really real (but that's another matter entirely).
You have a conversation with someone and it's about nothing. Just more facts to add to the files. Things to remember, things that make that person seem real when they aren't around. Words that form the wrinkles between their knuckles, stories that fit where their freckles fall on their face. You exchange saluations and then goodbyes like it's just no big deal. And it isn't really.
But that's just the thing, is that with the right people, even the ordinary becomes extraordinary. And so when Megan and I wax poetic about the Stones vs. the Beatles, or Matt tells me about roads and maps and trains, or when Tony talks about anything politics/ his family vacations, I am utterly, blissfully, extraordinarily content.
Like when you're half asleep in the sun and have the whole day to read the news.
The weather is dreary but not worth complaining about. You bicker about the same old things, like esoteric fax technology at work, only to find someone has bought a new one. But I liked the old one, it didn't work, nor will the new one as I'm convinced that faxing isn't really real (but that's another matter entirely).
You have a conversation with someone and it's about nothing. Just more facts to add to the files. Things to remember, things that make that person seem real when they aren't around. Words that form the wrinkles between their knuckles, stories that fit where their freckles fall on their face. You exchange saluations and then goodbyes like it's just no big deal. And it isn't really.
But that's just the thing, is that with the right people, even the ordinary becomes extraordinary. And so when Megan and I wax poetic about the Stones vs. the Beatles, or Matt tells me about roads and maps and trains, or when Tony talks about anything politics/ his family vacations, I am utterly, blissfully, extraordinarily content.
Like when you're half asleep in the sun and have the whole day to read the news.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Kevin Costner, you moldy pimp...
Today, despite only going on four hours sleep, was a good day.
Two of my four classes are now over. Papers written and handed in. Not well crafted and brain is mush with two more papers due this week. However, I now feel that the end is actually in sight, not just wishful thinking.
It is raining in Calgary. But don't get excited. It is not the harsh and purifying rain that clears up and then there's a rainbow and it's warm and it takes your breath away and you feel alive. No, this is the rain before the snow, before more snow and I may in fact be mistaken about this. The sound I hear could very well be snowflakes so large that they sound like drops of water. Oh well, I'm leaving soon.
Today my seminar class ended and I did my first last class Den with the prof (in this case she is a PhD student, but whatevsies) and only a small handfull of the class. We discussed the movie that we watched for our last day reward, Thirteen Days, about the Cuban Missile Crisis. Unfortunately Kevin Costner was the protagonist and the plot had quite a few inconsistencies with the actual event but I was on the edge of my seat and biting my nails. Turns out that blockade is sort of interesting. Kevin Costner however, how was he ever the hunk of the 80s? Mention Costner to my mom and she swoons. WTF.
Also turns out that I am again one of the youngest in the class and despite four years of undergrad almost completed, I feel like I am in some ways still a first year. Who am I kidding though right? I guess the time has finally come where I have to buck up and do the work. Even if the 94-98 range for an A in my faculty is definitely not happening .
And no, Towers, it was not called "Dances with Indians".
Two of my four classes are now over. Papers written and handed in. Not well crafted and brain is mush with two more papers due this week. However, I now feel that the end is actually in sight, not just wishful thinking.
It is raining in Calgary. But don't get excited. It is not the harsh and purifying rain that clears up and then there's a rainbow and it's warm and it takes your breath away and you feel alive. No, this is the rain before the snow, before more snow and I may in fact be mistaken about this. The sound I hear could very well be snowflakes so large that they sound like drops of water. Oh well, I'm leaving soon.
Today my seminar class ended and I did my first last class Den with the prof (in this case she is a PhD student, but whatevsies) and only a small handfull of the class. We discussed the movie that we watched for our last day reward, Thirteen Days, about the Cuban Missile Crisis. Unfortunately Kevin Costner was the protagonist and the plot had quite a few inconsistencies with the actual event but I was on the edge of my seat and biting my nails. Turns out that blockade is sort of interesting. Kevin Costner however, how was he ever the hunk of the 80s? Mention Costner to my mom and she swoons. WTF.
Also turns out that I am again one of the youngest in the class and despite four years of undergrad almost completed, I feel like I am in some ways still a first year. Who am I kidding though right? I guess the time has finally come where I have to buck up and do the work. Even if the 94-98 range for an A in my faculty is definitely not happening .
And no, Towers, it was not called "Dances with Indians".
Friday, April 6, 2007
He says he's not scared and I just natter on...
I feel the need to clarify something.
When faced with the idea of 14 days of sharing my company, he says that he isn't scared. "Not scared?" I think to myself. Not scared? What's the matter with you? I obviously implied that after that much time together we'd get sick of one another and want to "kick the other one out". What I wanted to say but couldn't get my feelings together was that I'm afraid that after 14 days together I'll realize something that I've already feared, through our previous conversations, that I don't want to face the next 14 days without you, the next fourteen hours, the next fourteen minutes... and then comes the idea of doing something crazy... and all this world really needs is a little more crazy from me...
If it makes any difference, I'd take an instant, just long enough to see you smile and to hear you say something outrageous, over nothing at all.
Regardless, it's going to be 14 days to remember. That's for certain.
When faced with the idea of 14 days of sharing my company, he says that he isn't scared. "Not scared?" I think to myself. Not scared? What's the matter with you? I obviously implied that after that much time together we'd get sick of one another and want to "kick the other one out". What I wanted to say but couldn't get my feelings together was that I'm afraid that after 14 days together I'll realize something that I've already feared, through our previous conversations, that I don't want to face the next 14 days without you, the next fourteen hours, the next fourteen minutes... and then comes the idea of doing something crazy... and all this world really needs is a little more crazy from me...
If it makes any difference, I'd take an instant, just long enough to see you smile and to hear you say something outrageous, over nothing at all.
Regardless, it's going to be 14 days to remember. That's for certain.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
eulogy for vernontowne...
Shimmering golden
Kalamalka lake beckons
Birds and bees alike
The heat makes people lazy
Even the act of perspiring is too much
A tropical, manufactured
scent lulls on the breeze
while
In other distant parts of our vast nation
The prairies flood
And in the Shield the summer smog kills
Children and adults alike
We are far removed from all of that
Remaining in a golden bliss
of breezy dusk and fireworks
To celebrate the fact that we're alive,
have free elections and drive our parents cars
Your clothes stick to your skin
The water is warm and feels like urine
And your mouth
and now
my mouth
tastes salty
I'm breathless
Kalamalka lake beckons
Birds and bees alike
The heat makes people lazy
Even the act of perspiring is too much
A tropical, manufactured
scent lulls on the breeze
while
In other distant parts of our vast nation
The prairies flood
And in the Shield the summer smog kills
Children and adults alike
We are far removed from all of that
Remaining in a golden bliss
of breezy dusk and fireworks
To celebrate the fact that we're alive,
have free elections and drive our parents cars
Your clothes stick to your skin
The water is warm and feels like urine
And your mouth
and now
my mouth
tastes salty
I'm breathless
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