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I've been consistently finding myself at a loss for words, trying to take emotions of the last weeks, and trying to sample them down to simple ascii characters.

There is something cathartic in this, but also a feeling that not all has been said, that not all can be communicated in this medium. That somehow, a small glance given over a coffee would be more than enough to convey everything that I'm feeling -- but not this text, these words.


When I was young, I was caught unawares by a total lunar eclipse. I was at a park surrounded by trees, and when the moon began to fade, and change colour, I climbed to the top of the playstructure to see what was happening, how someone could simply be turning the moon off.

After it went out, I swear that there was no light at all, only the most perfect velvet black around me. Blind, I found my way down to the earth, and wandered into the forest, to try and see if the whole world had just shut down, if everything was dark forever.

And when I thought perhaps it was going to be dark forever, there appeared a crescent of light in the sky, a beautiful ice blue, and on every leaf and branch and surface that could cast a shadow, there was a miniature blue moon, dancing with the wind.

I cannot put into words how I felt then. I cannot put into words how I feel now.



egyptian gods watching me behind glass, still and cold.
jessica kissing my cheek as I left, snowflakes everywhere.
the fog on the ottawa river reaching to a purple sky, tearing itself apart.
hearing leslie's whispered secrets, unable to look away.
the outro of '2 rights make 1 wrong', the first time.
stepping off a bus in edmonton after a three day ride, knowing amanda was there.
at christo's mother's cottage, making sacred space.
telling stories around the bonfire, every one of us friends.
knowing that i had come home.

It's vaguely unsettling to know that people have been walking through your home while you've been away.

I've lived in the same apartment for nearly three years. I'm moving either at the end of this month, or at the end of the next, depending on whether or not my landlord is able to find someone to take the unit a month early. If he does, then he's going to let me out of my lease early and I save $625, and I will probably get most of my $550 damage deposit back.

So it's in my best interest to get the place ready to show to potential renters. I haven't been all that motivated to clean though, but I managed to get some done and make the place look respectable this morning though.

I'm eating second breakfast at around 11 o'clock this morning ("he does know about second breakfast doesn't he?") and the phone rings. I'm expecting my friend to call, because we're to go hiking in the afternoon. Nope, it's my landlord. "Matthew," he says, "I'm bringing some people by to see your unit at noon. Is that ok?"

I'm eating. I'm drinking my coffee. I want to have a nice relaxing Saturday morning, followed by a nice hike in the afternoon. "Sure," I say, "that's fine."

It's not really fine. I look around. I still haven't gotten around to sweeping up the mouse crap that was under my girlfriend's dresser and under my bookcase, which I moved after my girlfriend moved to Victoria for graduate school. The bathrooms a wreak, there kitchen is full of dirty dishes, there's crumbs all over the counter, and the bathtub hasn't been cleaned in several weeks. "Shit."

So I spent the next hour or so in a cleaning frenzy. Wash the tub, sweep the floor, vacuum the rug. Wash some of the bike tire marks off the walls.

Well, I didn't get the dishes done, but the place didn't look like a complete hole by the time I was finished. So the first group of potential renters goes through, and I'm there, and it's all cool.

I leave for the hike. When I come back, everything seems normal. I wander around a bit. My bike's been moved a bit so people could look in the recycling closet. The closet door in my bedroom is ajar. My laptop is off; someone (...or something!) has stepped on the cord leading to the power supply, which falls out very easily.

Nothings been stolen or anything, that I can see. It's just sort of weird to know that someone has been rummaging around in your house while you weren't home. I'm sure a robbery would be much more traumatic.

The hike was ok. It was fairly long; took us over three hours, and it was mostly just trudging through trees. No rewarding scenery of any kind. The next one will be better hopefully. Just as we arrived back at the car it started to rain, so we made it just on time.

Hopefully climbing at Barrier and Grassy lakes tomorrow and Monday will be better...

My brother-in-law came over today with his mother and sister to visit my wife and they all got into an argument about the sex of the baby.

Heather and I have two more weeks until we find out it's sex at the next ultra-sound, and that's only if the baby feels like sharing, and if my wife has any indication what the child might be, she isn't sharing with anyone.

So the anticipation is killing everyone, my mother, my grandmother, all of Heather's family: brothers, uncles, aunts, grandparents, mother, and father, and they're all split neatly along gender lines. The men are praying for a boy, the women are praying for a girl.

It's like "West Side Baby Story" in my living room, with the Jets and the Sharks dancing on the couches:
When you're a boy, 
You're a boy all the way 
From your first manly breath
To your last dyin' day. 

When you're a boy, 
If the spit hits the fan, 
You got us men around, 
You're a family man! 

You're never alone, 
You're never disconnected! 
You're home with your own: 
When company's expected, 
You're well protected! 
I'm expecting to see shivs and bicycle chains come out soon. I'm Tony, trying to stay above the fray, and pray for a healthy child. I'd love to have a boy. I think I'm more prepared to have a boy. I hear all the stories about daddy's little girl but I was an only child and if I had my druthers, it would be a boy. But right now, I'll be happy with a healthy child.

I think the baby will be more inclined to moon us at the next ultra-sound rather than show off it's unmentionables. I almost wish the child would moon us, and keep mooning us, leaving the gender a mystery until birth.

Beer Magnet

It's a lovely little bit of plastic used to hold papers and important notices on my refrigerator. It was a gift from a friend from many years ago and still expresses it's elegance in a beer glass looking shape. It sparkles in the kitchen lighting and sometimes I think it winks at me as I walk by. It's got about a 1/4-inch head on it, complimented by a yellow looking beer color below it. The mold for the glass wasn't perfect, but that doesn't matter to me. What's inside is the only thing counts.

The magnet seems to give off a wonderful feeling as I open the fridge to cure my thirst. The cool beverage that I choose seems to taste better because of my beer magnet. Some of my friends try to offer me liquid refreshments from their refrigerators, but I know immediately it won't be the same to my taste buds. One day...all who seek refrigerated drinks will have much better taste experiences. The only way to change our current societal depression and overall discontent with cool drinks is to strike at the heart. The heart of their refrigerators, that is, and with a festive Beer Magnet.

Summer has arrived! I can tell this by the emergence of two things:

  • It's sunny. That's right, it's the UK and we can actually see the sun! I'm sure many of you can relate to this feeling.
  • The pool I am fortunate enough to own is finally switched on. The whir of the pumps, the occasional clank of the heater and the soothing slop of the water - ah, such memories.
I've just had my first swim of the year, and it's just as wonderful as I remember. It's 100°F, due to the heating and the wonderful sun. Ah, so warm.

Why am I sitting here noding, then? Good question. Back to the pool!

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