I couldn't take it anymore. The fact that I felt I had to go a third time in 2 months was probably a sign.
The hair has been chopped off. It looks and feels so much better. And it's much more summer-friendly. I'd post a pic, but it wasn't a flattering pic. So maybe I'll do it later.
5.19.2007
Naivety
I'm returning home from the Frontline Assembly show, riding a musically charged high. I step off the skytrain, cross the pedway, and step onto the escalator that leads down to the bus loop.
A young man with a back-pack is waiting at the bottom. He's one of those characters who's misleading appearance hides their age. He could be in his teens, he could be in his 20's. It's hard to say, and it doesn't matter.
As I get halfway down the escalator he beckons to me. I give him a confused look. He beckons again as I step off the escalator and onto the pavement. "'Have a light?"
"No, I don't," I reply. He reaches into his pocket, motions me to come closer. It's as if he's got something special to show me. Some secret that he doesn't want anybody else on the platform to know about. I'm expecting he'll offer to sell me some drugs.
Instead, he produceds a package of Player's Lights, pulls a cigarette from the carton, and holds it upwards towards me. He might be offering it to me, but he doesn't say anything, and I'm not sure I understand his intentions. Besides which, I don't smoke and so I'm not interested. "I don't have a light," I repeat, and I shrug with my hands still stuffed in my jacket pockets.
"What's that?" he gestures at my right pocket.
"It's a CD". I quickly flash the side of the disc inside my pocket before returning my hands-in-pockets to their sides. The next thing I know he's grabbing at my coat and reaching into my pocket, brushing my hand away, asking again "What's that"?
"It's a CD". I'm confused, but calm.
"What the fuck is it"?
"It's Frontline Assembly". An honest answer, not that it means anything to him.
He wrenches the CD out of the pocket and takes two quick steps backwards, waving me away. "Get lost," he says. I stare at him. He takes two more steps back, I take two forward. "Just go," he says. I glance over his shoulder to see if mall security are nearby, but they're not.
He spreads his arms wide, holding the CD away from me, beginning to circle around, putting a garbage bin between us. I take a few steps sideways and forward. We're circle-strafing each other, just like in a video game. Except this isn't a game. This is addiction versus addiction. His irrational need for money, for posessions, for showing dominance. My irrational need for a flat circular piece of plastic, of which I own many, that holds 60 minutes of music.
"Oh, you wanna fight?" he asks, holdling his arms out to make himself look bigger than his scrawny build will allow anybody to believe.
"No, I just want the CD back," I say calmly. He continues backing off, circling. I continue my advance, confused and a little angry.
"Let's go, c'mon, bring it." He throws a feeble slow motion fist towards my face. I've seen toddlers throw a better punch. He seems off balance. It dawns on me that he's probably on something, and his judgement probably isn't very good. The punch passes a foot beyond my face and he stumbles slightly.
"Just give me the CD."
He begins to retreat up the escalator, and I realize he's trying to rob me. I've let people walk all over me before, too often maybe, but not this time. I'm not going to fight him, but I'm not leaving without the CD back in my pocket.
He turns, and runs up a few steps, putting more distance between himself and me. I pursue at a steady pace, stepping onto the escalator. I hold the handrail on either side, lock eyes with him. I don't smile, and I don't yell. I keep a straight face.
He looks at me, casts a look over his shoulder behind him, then back down at me. My mind is clear, and my eyes say it all. It's at this moment that he realizes that I'm not going to stop following him, and he doesn't have very far to run.
He steps up another step, crouches, puts the CD on the escalator stair between his feet, and then turns and runs. I take the CD, back down the escalator, and place the disc back in my pocket. The night is quiet and the air is still.
I'm not sure how to feel. Just when I was starting to feel like it's time to stop guarding my feelings and emotions so closely, and to start letting people in...
some screwed up asshole decides to do something that makes me want to be even more guarded and closed. I feel foolish and naive for trusting a complete stranger. I begin to fantasize about all the nasty things I could have done to him. I imagine tripping him, holding him down against the pavement, kicking him in the ribs. In my mind I play out beating his head against the stone until it bleeds into the cracks.
I feel a little frightened afterwards, and a little worried about my personal security. But nobody got hurt, and I didn't get robbed. I stood my ground, stood up for myself and my personal rights, and I did it without any need for violence.
There seems to be a misconception that pacifists are weaklings and cowards. I disagree. Our strenght is in our willpower, our convictions, our clarity of mind.
But I still worry, if that first punch had made contact, what would I have done? Could I have held my composure? And what if this happens again? And will I be as lucky a second time?
I'm still tackling with my feelings about this encounter. I'm not sure what to think or feel. But I do know this: If there's a next time, maybe I'll just let it go. It's just a CD, just a piece of plastic. I can always buy another one. A life and a soul are much harder to replace.
A young man with a back-pack is waiting at the bottom. He's one of those characters who's misleading appearance hides their age. He could be in his teens, he could be in his 20's. It's hard to say, and it doesn't matter.
As I get halfway down the escalator he beckons to me. I give him a confused look. He beckons again as I step off the escalator and onto the pavement. "'Have a light?"
"No, I don't," I reply. He reaches into his pocket, motions me to come closer. It's as if he's got something special to show me. Some secret that he doesn't want anybody else on the platform to know about. I'm expecting he'll offer to sell me some drugs.
Instead, he produceds a package of Player's Lights, pulls a cigarette from the carton, and holds it upwards towards me. He might be offering it to me, but he doesn't say anything, and I'm not sure I understand his intentions. Besides which, I don't smoke and so I'm not interested. "I don't have a light," I repeat, and I shrug with my hands still stuffed in my jacket pockets.
"What's that?" he gestures at my right pocket.
"It's a CD". I quickly flash the side of the disc inside my pocket before returning my hands-in-pockets to their sides. The next thing I know he's grabbing at my coat and reaching into my pocket, brushing my hand away, asking again "What's that"?
"It's a CD". I'm confused, but calm.
"What the fuck is it"?
"It's Frontline Assembly". An honest answer, not that it means anything to him.
He wrenches the CD out of the pocket and takes two quick steps backwards, waving me away. "Get lost," he says. I stare at him. He takes two more steps back, I take two forward. "Just go," he says. I glance over his shoulder to see if mall security are nearby, but they're not.
He spreads his arms wide, holding the CD away from me, beginning to circle around, putting a garbage bin between us. I take a few steps sideways and forward. We're circle-strafing each other, just like in a video game. Except this isn't a game. This is addiction versus addiction. His irrational need for money, for posessions, for showing dominance. My irrational need for a flat circular piece of plastic, of which I own many, that holds 60 minutes of music.
"Oh, you wanna fight?" he asks, holdling his arms out to make himself look bigger than his scrawny build will allow anybody to believe.
"No, I just want the CD back," I say calmly. He continues backing off, circling. I continue my advance, confused and a little angry.
"Let's go, c'mon, bring it." He throws a feeble slow motion fist towards my face. I've seen toddlers throw a better punch. He seems off balance. It dawns on me that he's probably on something, and his judgement probably isn't very good. The punch passes a foot beyond my face and he stumbles slightly.
"Just give me the CD."
He begins to retreat up the escalator, and I realize he's trying to rob me. I've let people walk all over me before, too often maybe, but not this time. I'm not going to fight him, but I'm not leaving without the CD back in my pocket.
He turns, and runs up a few steps, putting more distance between himself and me. I pursue at a steady pace, stepping onto the escalator. I hold the handrail on either side, lock eyes with him. I don't smile, and I don't yell. I keep a straight face.
He looks at me, casts a look over his shoulder behind him, then back down at me. My mind is clear, and my eyes say it all. It's at this moment that he realizes that I'm not going to stop following him, and he doesn't have very far to run.
He steps up another step, crouches, puts the CD on the escalator stair between his feet, and then turns and runs. I take the CD, back down the escalator, and place the disc back in my pocket. The night is quiet and the air is still.
I'm not sure how to feel. Just when I was starting to feel like it's time to stop guarding my feelings and emotions so closely, and to start letting people in...
some screwed up asshole decides to do something that makes me want to be even more guarded and closed. I feel foolish and naive for trusting a complete stranger. I begin to fantasize about all the nasty things I could have done to him. I imagine tripping him, holding him down against the pavement, kicking him in the ribs. In my mind I play out beating his head against the stone until it bleeds into the cracks.
I feel a little frightened afterwards, and a little worried about my personal security. But nobody got hurt, and I didn't get robbed. I stood my ground, stood up for myself and my personal rights, and I did it without any need for violence.
There seems to be a misconception that pacifists are weaklings and cowards. I disagree. Our strenght is in our willpower, our convictions, our clarity of mind.
But I still worry, if that first punch had made contact, what would I have done? Could I have held my composure? And what if this happens again? And will I be as lucky a second time?
I'm still tackling with my feelings about this encounter. I'm not sure what to think or feel. But I do know this: If there's a next time, maybe I'll just let it go. It's just a CD, just a piece of plastic. I can always buy another one. A life and a soul are much harder to replace.
5.15.2007
Awake and Dreaming
It started as a quiet lull. Two or three people off in a corner starting a friendly chant. A few people joined in, and then a few more. It grew louder and faster, a rythmic chant steadily increasing in tempo and amplitude, finally crescendoing in a cacophony of cheering, shouting and whistling. "Finger, Finger Finger!"
I've missed these guys. It's been a number of years since our last rendez-vous, but I felt like it was time I go see them again. The opening acts were a bit disappointing, making me a bit anxious. But as Scott Anderson, Rick Jackett, James Black and co. took the stage I became more confident that the wait had been worth it.
It's funny how the music you love stays with you. When I lived in Alberta I used to drive between Edmonton and Cold Lake alone. I'd turn up the stereo, pop in Tip or The Greyest of Blue Skies, and belt out the lyrics to every song at the top of my lungs. I'd even squeak out the higher pitched parts that my voice couldn't properly reach.
And earlier tonight, there I was standing in a room with a few thousand strangers, belting out the lyrics to all our favorite songs at the top of our collective lungs.
It's my fourth time in 8 years that I've seen them play live, and I think this has been the best performance I've seen them do so far. They're one of the few successful bands I've seen live that truly appear to be enjoying themselves and loving what they do on stage.
To heck with Nickleback, Avril Lavigne, Metric, Broken Social Scene, and all these other overrated Canadian bands. These guys have been rocking longer and harder, and they're still going strong. I've been a Finger Eleven fan since I first saw them at Edgefest in '99 and I still maintain that they're one of the best (and most under appreciated) Canadian rock bands out there. They're one of those bands that just hasn't let me down. I have a lot of great memories I associate with their songs and they're easily still in my list of Top 5 favorite bands.
And so amidst the squealing guitars and pounding bass I found myself thinking that if my hearing suddenly gave out then and there, and this was the last sound I ever heard in my lifetime, that would be just fine by me.
I just wish that I'd had the company of a few choice friends to share the night with. Going to concerts alone is always a bit - ummm - lonely. But since I didn't have friends by my side, I guess sharing my experience with the blogosphere is the next best thing.
I've missed these guys. It's been a number of years since our last rendez-vous, but I felt like it was time I go see them again. The opening acts were a bit disappointing, making me a bit anxious. But as Scott Anderson, Rick Jackett, James Black and co. took the stage I became more confident that the wait had been worth it.
It's funny how the music you love stays with you. When I lived in Alberta I used to drive between Edmonton and Cold Lake alone. I'd turn up the stereo, pop in Tip or The Greyest of Blue Skies, and belt out the lyrics to every song at the top of my lungs. I'd even squeak out the higher pitched parts that my voice couldn't properly reach.
And earlier tonight, there I was standing in a room with a few thousand strangers, belting out the lyrics to all our favorite songs at the top of our collective lungs.
It's my fourth time in 8 years that I've seen them play live, and I think this has been the best performance I've seen them do so far. They're one of the few successful bands I've seen live that truly appear to be enjoying themselves and loving what they do on stage.
To heck with Nickleback, Avril Lavigne, Metric, Broken Social Scene, and all these other overrated Canadian bands. These guys have been rocking longer and harder, and they're still going strong. I've been a Finger Eleven fan since I first saw them at Edgefest in '99 and I still maintain that they're one of the best (and most under appreciated) Canadian rock bands out there. They're one of those bands that just hasn't let me down. I have a lot of great memories I associate with their songs and they're easily still in my list of Top 5 favorite bands.
And so amidst the squealing guitars and pounding bass I found myself thinking that if my hearing suddenly gave out then and there, and this was the last sound I ever heard in my lifetime, that would be just fine by me.
I just wish that I'd had the company of a few choice friends to share the night with. Going to concerts alone is always a bit - ummm - lonely. But since I didn't have friends by my side, I guess sharing my experience with the blogosphere is the next best thing.
5.13.2007
I'm Reconnected
Yup. Internet works again. Don't know why, or what fixed it. Didn't make any sense that it quit in the first place. Now it works again. Hooray.
5.10.2007
This Message Brought to You by the Wonders of Unsecured Wireless Internet
I'm writing this post on my laptop. My other computer has decided that it no longer wishes to surf the internet. It has found contentment in being connected to the router and in turn a smaller, friendlier, safer network. Knowing all the terrible evils that lie out there on the internet, I'm not sure I blame it. Maybe it's better off without the world wide web.
I, however, am neither content 'nor impressed by this sudden decision on the part of my computer. I have tried to persuade it to give the internet another chance. I've poked, and prodded, and taunted, and even tried to trick it into connection. And when that didn't work I decided that maybe the router was being a bully and not letting my computer surf with the big boys. So I spoke to the router, but he assures me he's done no such thing.
So now I'm checking on my computer's health, and hoping not to diagnose it with any nasty bugs. I can't imagine how or where it might have contracted an illness that would cause internet-phobia as a secondary sympton, but it never hurts to be safe. I doubt I'll find anything wrong. My computer may not be as young as he once was, but he's still in good shape and gets a good work-out on a daily basis.
It could also be the result of Karma. I've been isolating myself to my room a little bit lately. Maybe my computer just thinks it's doing it's part to help me out?
In any case, I WANT THE FREAKIN' INTERNET TO WORK AGAIN!!
I, however, am neither content 'nor impressed by this sudden decision on the part of my computer. I have tried to persuade it to give the internet another chance. I've poked, and prodded, and taunted, and even tried to trick it into connection. And when that didn't work I decided that maybe the router was being a bully and not letting my computer surf with the big boys. So I spoke to the router, but he assures me he's done no such thing.
So now I'm checking on my computer's health, and hoping not to diagnose it with any nasty bugs. I can't imagine how or where it might have contracted an illness that would cause internet-phobia as a secondary sympton, but it never hurts to be safe. I doubt I'll find anything wrong. My computer may not be as young as he once was, but he's still in good shape and gets a good work-out on a daily basis.
It could also be the result of Karma. I've been isolating myself to my room a little bit lately. Maybe my computer just thinks it's doing it's part to help me out?
In any case, I WANT THE FREAKIN' INTERNET TO WORK AGAIN!!
5.06.2007
Rubbed the Wrong Way
It's times like these that make me want to move out on my own again. I like my roommates, and I lake the place I live. And most times I'm happy about my situation and things are basically fine. But there are times, like tonight, where I can't wait to get out and into my own place and distance myself from ... well ... the things I feel I need to distance myself from.
I can't elaborate much since I never know who, if anybody, is reading this. I'd like to explain in detail, but I can't. It's never nice to talk about other people behind their backs anyways, and especially not on the internet.
So to wrap it all up in a nice, neat little all-encompassing but entirely too general package, there are some people in my life who sometimes do things that drive me up the wall, and I'm just about at my wit's end with them. And it doesn't have much to do with them so much as that those things they're doing just clash with my personality and my lifestyle.
Sadly, my budget doesn't really allow me to change my situation. So until it does I'll just keep my head down, my mouth shut, and my bedroom door closed.
I also wish that the title I chose for this post was in reference to something dirty and inappropriate. Right now it's just a wasted innuendo.
I can't elaborate much since I never know who, if anybody, is reading this. I'd like to explain in detail, but I can't. It's never nice to talk about other people behind their backs anyways, and especially not on the internet.
So to wrap it all up in a nice, neat little all-encompassing but entirely too general package, there are some people in my life who sometimes do things that drive me up the wall, and I'm just about at my wit's end with them. And it doesn't have much to do with them so much as that those things they're doing just clash with my personality and my lifestyle.
Sadly, my budget doesn't really allow me to change my situation. So until it does I'll just keep my head down, my mouth shut, and my bedroom door closed.
I also wish that the title I chose for this post was in reference to something dirty and inappropriate. Right now it's just a wasted innuendo.
5.05.2007
Speechless
Ha ha. I like the title of this post. It's a pun. But of course, you don't get it yet, so let me explain.
My best friend is getting married at the end of the month. He's asked me to be the best man, and I graciously accepted. It doesn't really come as a surprise, as we've been friends a long time and I knew one day I'd be standing along side him at his wedding, the same as he will likely do for me when my time comes. I just didn't quite expect that the day would come so soon. But I guess we're getting to that age.
As part of my duties as best man I've been asked to give a toast. This news didn't come as a surprise to me either, as it seems to be pretty standard for a wedding. But the toast I've been asked to give is one welcoming the new bride.
I've only met my friend's fiancee roughly 3 or 4 times, as I no longer live in the same city they do. And so it's created a bit of a hurdle. In my mind I'm writing all these great little toasts and speeches, but they all focus around my friend. I'd happily toast the bride, except that I really don't know anything about her aside from her name and her job. I don't have anything insightful or witty to say about the two of them together, since I haven't spent much time around the two of them. I have plenty I could say about my friend, but the toast is supposed to be his fiancee, not him.
They're trying to keep the wedding small and simple, and so I suppose I could get away with a quick "To the Bride!" But I don't feel that would do justice to the occasion, and I'm sure I can do better. I guess I just have to figure out my angle. I'd like to say something a bit more personalized that has more special meaning to the two of them.
I also need to pick up a wedding gift for them. And again, it's proving to be a difficult decision for me. They've registered at a few places, but I never liked the idea of gift registries. I suppose it does makes things simple and provides them with things they really need. But I'd rather be that one cool friend who got them that one special gift that wasn't on the registry that nobody else thought of. But I'm stumped for ideas. Buying a wedding gift for a couple isn't quite the same as buying your friend a birthday gift. Especially when you're only close friends with one half of the couple, and don't know the other half very well.
Ah, well, I'm sure I'll figure something out. I always do. And besides that, if it comes down to the last minute (which it better not), I'll have my sister around to offer me some or her never-ending good advice.
My best friend is getting married at the end of the month. He's asked me to be the best man, and I graciously accepted. It doesn't really come as a surprise, as we've been friends a long time and I knew one day I'd be standing along side him at his wedding, the same as he will likely do for me when my time comes. I just didn't quite expect that the day would come so soon. But I guess we're getting to that age.
As part of my duties as best man I've been asked to give a toast. This news didn't come as a surprise to me either, as it seems to be pretty standard for a wedding. But the toast I've been asked to give is one welcoming the new bride.
I've only met my friend's fiancee roughly 3 or 4 times, as I no longer live in the same city they do. And so it's created a bit of a hurdle. In my mind I'm writing all these great little toasts and speeches, but they all focus around my friend. I'd happily toast the bride, except that I really don't know anything about her aside from her name and her job. I don't have anything insightful or witty to say about the two of them together, since I haven't spent much time around the two of them. I have plenty I could say about my friend, but the toast is supposed to be his fiancee, not him.
They're trying to keep the wedding small and simple, and so I suppose I could get away with a quick "To the Bride!" But I don't feel that would do justice to the occasion, and I'm sure I can do better. I guess I just have to figure out my angle. I'd like to say something a bit more personalized that has more special meaning to the two of them.
I also need to pick up a wedding gift for them. And again, it's proving to be a difficult decision for me. They've registered at a few places, but I never liked the idea of gift registries. I suppose it does makes things simple and provides them with things they really need. But I'd rather be that one cool friend who got them that one special gift that wasn't on the registry that nobody else thought of. But I'm stumped for ideas. Buying a wedding gift for a couple isn't quite the same as buying your friend a birthday gift. Especially when you're only close friends with one half of the couple, and don't know the other half very well.
Ah, well, I'm sure I'll figure something out. I always do. And besides that, if it comes down to the last minute (which it better not), I'll have my sister around to offer me some or her never-ending good advice.
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