Buying in

We walk through life with mantras by our side... these undeniable, obviously fundamental philosophies on life that are unchangeable. We keep them securely in our pockets, ready for action whenever needed. They shape our decisions, and we live by their dictates. We say, "This is what life is supposed to look like," or, "I need this above anything." We all have them... some of us take on more subtle ones, and others state them for the world. Some are founded in moralist qualities that take on sports analogies ("It's not about whether you win or lose, but how you play the game"). Others take on more universal approaches ("It's all about balance in life"... you'll catch me saying this). Whatever the case, we buy into these personal outlooks and shape our lives accordingly.

But what happens when what we've told ourselves is something that is just simply untrue? Or, at least not true for everyone? And what if it becomes so hardened within our resolve to act in a certain way that we cannot see outside the tunnel? How is light supposed to squeak in when the blinds are so tightly fastened?

I've been thinking a lot on this, and the only thing I can conclude is that sometimes we need to believe that an outsider's perspective, whether wanted or unwanted, can be enlightening. Without going into the details, I would love it if some people would weigh in on this question:

Do you have to be happy on your own before you can be happy with another person? Or is it possible to find personal happiness within the framework of a common happiness?

Let me know. And if my two or three readers can refer people to answer this question too, I'd really appreciate it.

T

Newness

Arriving, like a fresh sheet of innocence draped over the city
Hiding away the blemishes and mistakes.
Sadness arrives alongside this sheet of innocence,
Knowing that it only takes days to turn into an ugly mess
Where the serenity is abandoned in place of a marked world.
The same happens with the season...
In the beginning, there is hope and friendship
In lights
In colours
In song
In quiet moments
But the quiet is soon disregarded as frivolous
And instead of basking in moments, frittering aimlessly
There are deadlines and schedules that arise
Like schoolmasters and pencil pushers.
Why so fleeting, this sense of rebirth?
How does it become so easy to be dragged to the depths of motion
Where it's easy to forget about
The need to stop for brief seconds and simply look around
When calendars and itineraries await to dictate the day?

T

Musing

You used to always tell me that I smelled like the outside
Like the world out there, so cluttered and uncertain
Not like the world inside...
Where things can be ordered, expected.
You liked to tell me you liked the outdoors
But I think you liked the idea more than the reality
Because the reality was untidy
Messy
Unpredictable.
This was the worst part... the unpredictability.
You couldn't plan or forsee everything that was to come
Whether it was a mouse
Or a mosquito looking for blood
Or simply a crackle in the bushes
And you couldn't step outside yourself long enough to know
That in this uncertainty is life
Is experience
Is that which is worth living for
And that which is memorable.

When do we even remember the plans for something we did?

The memories are in the doing
This is also where the learning lies.

A plan is helpful, and often necessary.
We all need maps and directions from time to time.
But it's driving that is life.
The action.

You've been waiting for a chance to take life by the throat
To wrangle it by the scruff of the neck
Confidently
With strength.
But it's been beside you all along
Holding your hand
Waiting for you to lead
Now you realize that you need to walk and move forward
In some semblance of your own direction
But you continue to turn... round... in circles.

But why not? Sure. It makes sense.
Circles are just so tidy.

And if you never go anywhere, can you really get lost?
I guess only if you were lost to begin with.

T

Knowing I'm a lucky man

I can't begin to explain how many nights I've looked up to the cosmos and thanked my lucky stars for how my life has turned out and how I've been blessed on this planet over and over again. I've met some wonderful folks, experienced some absolutely amazing things, and have fantastic, supportive, and wholly good people in my circle. In a world that is full of messiness and apathy and frustration, I can't help but think I've lived a rosy existence. I realize that this is looking through rose-coloured lenses in the face of my own marital strife, but who's to say that there aren't multiple faces to my life?

Last week, I'd planned a big night of cheesy fun with as many people in Victoria as I knew. I thought it would be a riot to accumulate as many people and thermoses of Christmas cheer (and as many tacky sweaters) as possible, and go out carolling for the night. I'd even planned on collecting foodstuffs for the Mustard Seed in town in order to have a positive outcome beyond the wonderful hilarity that would've transpired throughout the evening of sing-song fun. Because everyone knows that Christmas cheer and cheesy sing-songs inspire hilarity and rampant guffawing!

Alas, I was met with a lot of non-replies, a lot of "sorry, we're busy"'s, and a couple of more vehement, "I hate carolling so much it makes me itch!" responses. Out of the twenty or so people I sent an invite to, I had one... ONE!... one reply to say she was on board and even planned to bring a friend. And that was it. And then the friend didn't come.

Obviously, I canned the idea. However, my lone reveller-friend decided that we should still do something good to spread the Christmas spirit tonight, even if it was with our party of two. So, we did. We met at her house and walked downtown, found a man who was hoping for some spare change, and instead of giving him change, treated him to a coffee, a sandwich, a snack, and some warm conversation on this Thursday evening. It was all D's idea, and I was truly inspired by her sincerity and wish to carry this out. The idea was sparked by her desire to NOT give her soon-to-be god-daughter any video games or other material Christmas presents, but to write them letters detailing something they'd done in the child's name. Like tonight... after the warm chatter, we took a picture with the man known as Tracy, and D is going to process the picture and send a letter to her god-daughter telling her the story of this star filled, snow covered, beautifully cold winter night where we know that someone is just a bit warmer than he would've been otherwise.

I think about the people in my life, and I know that some of them are just genuinely inspiring for all sorts of reasons. D takes the cake this year... I don't think I know of anyone so willing to put herself out there and approach someone in this manner and do something so selfless and simple. And maybe it's somewhat selfish (since she and I both felt great about it afterwards), and maybe it's not going to solve the world's malaise, but it was something. And if there were more somethings, then, well, you never know.

So I sit here and smile, knowing that even though I'm dealing with a mess of crap, there are other things out there... other lives that are suffering... and if I'm able to lend a hand here or there, then I should. I walked up to my house tonight looking at the deep blue-black sky dotted with stars and semi-concealed in non-commital clouds, and I know that there are things to smile about everywhere.

T

Christmas-y time in the city

The countdown has really started for most people. I realize that for some, it started months ago, but I'm one of those types who only likes to indulge in the seasonal reverie when the holiday is actually in sight. Now that we're at ten days left, I believe that it's time to get into things.

This is the first Christmas season that I won't see Alberta at all. Since K and I got married, we've been splitting the holiday week between our families. I haven't minded this (beyond the initial guilt-tripping and sense of frustration felt among family members), but we were still in southern Alberta all the same. This year, due to new work commitments, I couldn't arrange to receive time off so on the Island I remain. I am disappointed that I won't be able to spend the holidays with my immediate family (and with K's family), but since I was able to see my parents, grandparents and siblings at Thanksgiving, I feel as though I can survive until February (when I'm hopefully going to be able to fly out for a visit).

I won't be totally family-less though... my aunt and uncle and cousin will be hosting Christmas dinner and my other cousin will be flying out from Halifax with her fiancee to spend a week out here as well. And I also have numerous friends who have already invited me over, so I may do a bit of house-hopping over the few days-off I have to say hellp to my friends and their families.

As a way of celebrating the Christmas spirit, I'm trying organize a night of carolling with the people I know from Victoria. I thought it would be a tonne of fun to get a bunch of us together to sing Christmas songs and embrace cheesy Christmas sweaters in order to show that we're thankful and just have a fun wintery night out. I'm going to try to contact the local food bank to see if we can incorporate a food/money drive at the same time. I've had a few "no"s and a few "maybe"s, but not a lot of definite commitments. Although I'm a bit disappointed so far, I know that people are crazy busy... there's so much to do and since most people don't get much time off around this time of year, they have a million errands they need to run and a finite amount of time to pull them off. So, I'm hoping that if I can get at least 6 or 7, that'll be a success in itself, and we'll just have to belt things out a little louder than we would with 10 or 15!

And just in case it wasn't feeling like Christmas just a few short days ago, the sky dropped a few inches of snow on us over the weekend, causing the fair-weather islanders to drive 20km/hr or find their cars in the ditch. This type of cold-weather driving doesn't bother me, but I sure wouldn't be going out of my way to battle the Malahat right now. And we even have sunshine to accompany the crisp whiteness. Who says that it's grey and miserable over the winter here??? :) "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."

T

Words penned in the dark

I take only a few moments near the darkened winter coast
Yet it's all I really need to refresh quiet moments in my mind.
The quiet, dark walk helps ease my soul, even when I feel like I'm on fire.
I travel back to moments in my mind where you and I walked quietly together.
I never will remember all the days we've spent just wasting away the time,
Pretending real life will come soon enough even as it's wildly by our side.
But I have enough moments and minutes, like photos on the wall,
That I see every chance I get when I wish upon my memory.

You find these clouds depressing, saying it's cold and they hide the sky
But its these clouds that help December stay warm and light up the city night.
You tell me that you're just not sure, and that you're really, truly trying...
But I'm the one walking these streets alone, wondering, wishing, crying.
Why am I feeling like I'm the one who's lost, who's gone, who's dying?

T

A few honest things

About me:

I'm quite confident about the person I am most of the time... however, when I'm in new settings (a new job, a new surrounding, a new group of friends), I become uncertain of how to act and resort to being either very quiet or overly chatty and sarcastic. Although I'm a sarcastic person and am very talkative, I definitely overdo it in these situations and put off an annoying vibe. Physically speaking, though, I'm very insecure... I'm always wondering what other people see when they see me, and even though I'm healthy and not wholly unattractive, I definitely don't think I'm all that much to look at.

I keep a lot of people at a distance, especially at work. I act a certain way and let people into my world on a limited basis, and at work, there are rarely those who inhabit my inner circle. For me, work is work and my life is something else. Now, I don't want to be misunderstood... I very much enjoy the people that I work with (most of the time), but being who I am, I don't generally pursue close friendships with workmates. Few make the transition from co-worker to someone I'd consider a friend, and there's really few who I'd consider close friends in my life. Those who I do consider close generally receive semi-regular contact from me and I try to touch base with them in person as often as possible. Typically it takes at least a couple of times out for coffee or beer to shift from acquaintance to friend for me.

I can be extremely anal about certain organizational facets of my life, but am a bit messy in my home... I pile clothes up around the house and am not bothered by general untidyness. A dirty house is one thing that I don't like, but having things askew doesn't irk too much at home. I guess I grew up in a world of chaos when looking at this very thing (for any of you with a mother who does crafts and has some pack-rat tendancies, you likely understand what I'm talking about), so I'm typically not bothered about strewn clothing or messily piled papers.

I'm lucky in many parts of my world. I have an amazing family, some absolutely wonderful friends, and I think I have a good appreciation for life in general. I've had to deal with some crap in my life, but I've been able to find a lot of good out there, even when I'm in pain. When I'm out running or hiking, I'm always trying to take in the scenery and really embrace what's there. I love making children smile and making people laugh and have a good time. I like knowing that people respect the job I do. I like knowing that I've changed someone's life for the better. I know I'm not wholly altruistic, but I try to be good and do good things as often as possible.

I'm one of those people who is often taken advantage of... I always want to do things that will make other people happy (since I get enjoyment out of this). And I hate getting in confrontations and would rather just do something myself or figure out a way to solve something myself rather than cause a rift or make something uncomfortable. In essence, I'm a bit of a pushover. I will stick to my guns when something is important, but if I'm indifferent, I generally do something for someone else before taking care of myself. I sometimes wonder if it's this very thing that has contributed to my independent, island-located state at this point in life.

Even though I'll do everything in my power to do the right thing, I don't put my all into a lot of things. I'm generally not a focussed person in the sense that I forget things easily and often go through spurts where I'm intensely interested in something, only to forget it soon after. As far as work goes, I figure out how to do everything decently well, but I never push myself to excell. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I'm a bit flighty with things... I don't know. I guess it's often the fact that I know I'll be moving on, so why bother. I think the only thing I invested myself completely in was, well... her.

Enough self-indulgent sharing for the night. Sleep calls.

T

What a morning

I went to bed a little later than I expected last night... after a meal with the housemates, I went to have a beer and play taxi for my cousin, who had spent his night drinking rum and playing Guitar Hero with friends. After dropping him off, I was contemplating whether or not I'd make it out for a run in the morning... I'd found a running group that apparently met every Saturday morning at Thetis Lake Park, and since I haven't done any trail running since being back home on the mainland, I was getting the itch. However, the last few days have seen some really uncertain whether, and with wind/rain warnings in effect yesterday, I thought I might just sleep in.


As I woke up this morning, I looked out the window and noticed some blue sky. There wasn't any rain and the sky looked like it was going to cooperate. So I grabbed my gear and met the club out by the lake this morning at 8am.


What an unbelievably beautiful run. The sun came out and cut through the trees. The rain stayed away and the trails were pleasantly moist. They were a bit slick in some places (due to the high presence of rocky sections), but it was an absolutely spectacular run. I kept with the slower group for the first part of the run, then scooted up and joined the quicker group during a break. I finished off with a tempo run, led by one of the running club's regulars, and was ACTUALLY steaming upon completion. STEAMING! It was pretty much perfect, and I was able to enjoy scenery that looked like this:

The trail was covered in fall foliage, and the intense smell of leaf rot mixed with earthy moss was everywhere. Afterwards, I met some friends who just arrived from out of town for breakfast at a local diner, and just arrived home to shower and do some laundry before heading to work.

With everything that life has thrown at me this year, there are still some pretty wonderful sunshiney moments to dwell in... sometimes you just have to be ambitious enough to strap on your shoes and take to the trail.

T

Mornings unlike November

The fog was rich last night... so thick you could almost pull it into your mouth and squeeze the juice out with your tongue. It was a night for ghosts, for spirits, and for the lonely. It was as if you could get lost without taking a step, but it's very presence was ephemeral, fleeting. Each moment I tried to take it in my arms, it was gone like breath.

The fog's transitory nature showed it's face today (or, by very definition, did not show it's face today), and I woke up to a sky of sunshine beating back the clouds... clouds wanting to share their load with the city in form of fairyland tears. This autumn on the coast has been anything but autumn-like. Days of sunshine and warmth have punctuated the typical and continual gray that generally hangs over the island at this time of year. The ocean's storm season will soon be here, where the winds will force the waters to crash upon the shores and drench those people unlucky enough to be running down a peninuslar boardwalk or get caught upon a marina dock. The sea during this stormy time is not patient, and will not politely wait until the area is clear.

A memory... reading a book by Douglas Coupland... story's scene presents a seagull standing on top of a heap that used to be a building. The building had been bombed and was now just a pile of rubble. The comment? Some along the lines of... "Even though we can clearly see the destruction, to the bird, it's just... the world." ( I know I butchered it, but the sentiment of the quote remains, I think).

Throughout literature, the weather has been personified in various ways, and has been used as a metaphor for countless things... a person's luck, the state of society, crime and punishment in our human world. So I guess the weather is acting as my own metaphor... the sun trying to shine through when I know it's supposed to be raining. Since moving to the coast in the first place, I've always said that I've always only needed a day or two of sunshine during these dark months to get me through to the cyclical rebirth of life in spring. I guess, too, the same goes for my personal life... as long as I can catch a glimpse of the metaphorical sunshine and find some reasons to hope, I'll be able to walk on.

Thus, since the sun is my cue... on I walk.

T

Week(non)ends

Although the weekend was here, it wasn't really a weekend. To be a week"end", the week must, in some functional way, actually come to an end. But working two jobs puts me in a position where the weeks don't really end... they just continue and fade into one another. I'm now on approximately18 days of work in a row, and there's no break coming for at least two more (but will most likely be, well, next Saturday if at all).

Don't get me wrong... I'm not trying to throw a pity party. I'm out here in order to work as much as possible and, to a certain extent, work myself into a state of forgetfulness. I want to limit the time I have alone to myself so I don't get caught up in the world of despair that has claimed me off and on for 9 or 10 months now. It's so easy to get caught up in the messy details of trying to navigate such an emotional mine-field, and lose focus on the long-term, especially when it feels like the long-term goal may be, in fact, an ever-fleeting pipe dream. I don't allow myself to actually believe this, though, even though the feelings do happen to make an appearance from time to time.

Like I was saying, I'm not trying to indulge in self-pity... I've been very fortunate with work. Both jobs I'm working right now have been set up through personal contacts and neither employer has actually seen my resume. This doesn't generally happen, especially to me. But this year has seen fortune shine in this way. And luckily, too, I haven't let down my friends who went to bat for me and I think I've successfully shed any fears that I may be some sketchy hack that didn't actually deserve a job in the first place.

I also found out yesterday that I was offered and accepted a job that I interviewed for recently. I haven't worked in this area in any real way in, well, my entire life. But experience be damned! It pays well, should be a good amount of hours, and is something completely new to add to my employability repertoire. It's actually in the medical/micro-biology field, and for those of you who know me, you'll quickly wonder, "who the hell would offer that bookworm a LAB job?!?!" I thought the same thing myself, since the last scientific endeavour I participated in was a brief attempt at a first-year Bio class at the U of L which I promptly dropped after receiving the lowest-possible, non-failing grade available at the time... 49.5%. Scary, I know. But I like to think I'm a bit brighter these days and as long as I'm shown what to do, can pretty much carry out any basic task know to man. I think I'm trying to become the most employable guy in Canada by working and getting experience in as many different places as are available. Med school here I come? Well... lets not get ridiculous.

In other news, I'm officially finished The Book Thief, and as I expected, I was not disappointed. It was a moving book and although I didn't come out a different man, I may be a slightly better one. If you have the chance, pick it up... well worth the read for any reading level.

More words call, as I'm beginning a new book tonight. So off I run into another non-weekend-Sunday-night. Until again...

T

True

"I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right."
- The Book Thief

Sharing...

I recently said that I was planning to use this venue in a bit more of a self-exploratory manner. So, since I penned this quickly just a few minutes ago (as my mind was reeling, as is generally the case when I take pen to paper), I thought I'd put it up here. I know it falls on a terribly uninspired rhyme scheme, but it's easy to put words into a predetermined form. And since I'm not pursuing any intellectual pursuits here, it just doesn't bloody well matter. There's no title.


Today was just another day of ongoing radio silence.
But I guess that it's a welcome break from the constant verbal violence.
I'm down on my knees daily hoping that again you can see me
For the man you used to love, and with whom you'd always be.

Now days gone by are stretching out
Into weeks and months that are filled with doubt.
You still won't tell me if you see me
In your waking hopes or your hope-filled dreams.
Darling why won't you let me in... it's colder than it seems.

Often I get to wondering if there's a pattern to this scene,
And if I'm just the latest victim in your dramatic uncertainty.
I wonder when the dykes had broke, and when you began to drown
And when you decided that pushing away was the only way around.

Now days gone by are stretching far
Into months and wishes made on a star.
I wish you'd tell me if you could see me
In your heart, in your soul, in your loving plea.
Baby, please won't you let me in... I'll be all you need me to be.

-TM

Words... words... words...

I haven't been reading it quickly, but my most recent book of interest is The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. I've been reading a lot of books about stealing it seems like (considering one of the ones I read this summer was The Gum Thief by Douglas Coupland).

Anyways, it's been another enjoyable foray into the world of YA Lit (or young adult lit for those not super big on acronyms... any teacher or government worker loves to indulge in the creation of acronyms, I think... it's just a really elaborate way of saying something that isn't particularly complex in the first place). I've really liked a lot of the YA books I've read in the past, and interestingly enough I have two more in the plans to read next. The next one will likely be Maus II: And Here My Troubles Began by the cartoonist Art Spiegelman, and The Lit Report by a local Victoria writer (and one of my co-workers at my new job), Sarah N. Harvey. I'm excited for both, but really want to finish The Book Thief first.

I'll say more about the content matter soon, but here's just a taste of one of the lines that has made me fall in love with the book...

"He made three separate formations that led to the same tower of dominoes in the middle. Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would all smile at the beauty of destruction."

T

Another word... or three

I realize that my previous entry was a touch on the morose end of the emotional spectrum. Okay... it might have been more than morose. It may have been plain sad. I guess I was on a bit of a self-pity trip, which I try to stay away from as often as possible. Often, I wonder if sadness just breeds more sadness, and whether indulging in melancholy only contributes to melancholy. Isn't the idea of catharsis the release of such emotion? If such is the case... then why does it remain?

To turn this page to a somewhat more positive note... In all the muck I've had to wade through, there have been some blessings (some silver ribbon encircling the situation, if you will?) that have found their way to me. Although I'm still not working in the profession I attended school for, I was lucky enough to find a temporary (or maybe somewhat long-term) job at a book publishing company.

Now, before you get too excited, I'm not a newly discovered writer or some sort of marketing guru... I'm a lackey. A grunt lackey. I receive order lists, and I fill them. Then once those are filled, I take more order lists and fill those. I also pick boxes up and put boxes down. I lift boxes, move boxes, stack boxes, shift boxes, pack boxes and cuddle with boxes. Okay, maybe I don't cuddle with them per se. But they are all around me, regardless of the word used to describe the relationship.

I received the job through a friend who I contacted about job leads... PRESTO! She happens to be working at the aforementioned publishing company and knew they needed help. I quite enjoy it... even though I'm a warehouse Joe, I get to have lunch with nerdy editors and writers and bibliophiles, and I get to play with one of my favourite things in the world: books! Okay, not so much play as move and pack... but again, use whatever words you want.

The facts from the previous entry haven't changed... all still remain as they were. It's been raining here for the past two days, but at times the rain feels like an old sweater that was recently found... not necessarily beautiful or even comfortable, but a part of me regardless of what it may seem to be from an outsider's perspective.

Have you ever felt like you're trying to find your way back to yourself? It's a strange feeling, considering I never thought I was lost in the first place...

T

The tides

So many things have changed in life. Previous blog entries haven't touched on them, as I feel as though I need to keep a certain amount of myself away from this forum. I've told stories about my friends, family, co-workers, acquaintances and random people who I've encountered in my life. But I guess I feel as though I need to keep some things rooted in reality. Although this "home" of mine isn't fiction, it's not any sort of holistic account of, well, anything. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that what I see and experience and understand in my own worldview is vastly different from the person sitting next to me on the bus. We may have the same pick-up point, and even the same destination, but our experience on the 40ft limo is night and day.

My life has seen a drastic change in the past year. Although I haven't talked about it here, many personal challenges have arisen. They've caused me to challenge my understanding of myself and my actions and motivations and beliefs. They've uprooted the things that I thought were cemented into my understanding of life. I am constantly wondering (and sometimes worried)about the man I've become, and the man I want to be, and the life I was living and the life I dream to live. When I really asked myself the question, "Who am I?", I was confronted with a polarized response of certainty and uncertainty.

I know this is vague... it's intentional. Because in my own ego-centric world, it's a way of putting down what I have thought about and talked about but have neglected to record (publicly, anyway). Writing has always been a release, but lately (as in, this year) I've felt so overwhelmed by the emotional trainwreck I've experienced that writing hasn't been enough. So I'm hoping that this forum will help creative a more self-reflective environment where I can challenge myself and my own thoughts and come up with some way of navigating in this mess of a life.

A couple of facts about this whole thing...
I'm an Islander again.
I'm alone (even when surrounded by people).
I'm not working in my academic discipline.
I'm poor.
I'm constantly facing bouts of fate-inspired angst and sadness.
Even in the sun, it feels like rain.

You know what I HATE?

Okay, a bit of a rant for the night...

One of my absolute biggest peeves is unreliable people. I'm pretty easy-going... I fully realize that people are busy and that sometimes, even when I want them to, they can't make plans.

This is fine with me.

What I can't handle is looking forward to something, making plans for days, sometimes even weeks, then having people back out the same night with some shitty last-minute excuse. If you've got better things to do, fine... bugger off and go do them... but don't make me fucking wait around for you while you do your shit and then break the plans made.

This summer I seem to have encountered more of this then ever before (or, at least, it's happening all at the same time). Tonight was a fantastic example... I've been waiting for weeks to go watch the UFC pay per view. I'm a big fan of mixed martial arts and love to watch the Montreal fighter George St. Pierre. It's his title defense tonight, so I made plans a week ago to go see the fights with a couple of guys I know. They wanted to go grab beers and watch them with me, so I planned out a time and the three of us agreed.

Today, I received a call saying that one of them was going to be a bit late. This I can handle. Then, the other guy let me know he was going to be running late too... again, no problem. So I wait patiently until about 7:30 (30 minutes after the fights have started) and I get a message from the one guy saying that he might not make it because he's at his aunt's b-day party and a bunch of his family is there. Okay, you know what, that sucks but another guy is still coming. So, I wait for another 45 minutes and am just on my way to the pub and I'm just about to call buddy #2, and I get a text message... you guessed it, he bailed too.

Now it's 8:30, the bars are jammed, and I don't have anyone to attend the fights with. Thus, I sit at home pissed off and I'm gonna miss everything.

This is stacked on top of the fact that I waited around all morning because my boss was supposed to call me so I could pick up my paycheque for the end of my summer of painting. I'm still on the coast for a week, but I finished painting yesterday and he said he could clear up what he owed me. I also knew he was in a golf tournament this afternoon so he wanted me to pick it up before he had to go to that. Fair enough... no problem.

So I waited around all bloody morning. I texted him at 10:30 letting him know that I'm ready to stop by whenever he was good to go. I phoned him at 11:45 and left a voicemail saying that I'm around and ready. Do I get a call back? Nope. Not until 6:00! And I'm over the fact that he buggered off on me this morning, so I asked him when he wanted to meet up. He said he would be back home "shortly" and he'd call me so I could meet him. Over an hour later, still no word. So I texted him to see if he was home. I didn't get my cheque until 7:45 tonight, again waiting around for him.

Today was obviously particularly bad, but I can't tell you how many times I've waited around for phone calls or meet-ups and have been disappointed. Are people in their mid-20's fundamentally flaky? What the hell is up?

Not impressed, people. If you commit to something, just fucking commit. I can't handle the bullshit of wasting my time waiting for disappointment.

I guess I've said my piece... I think I need a beer.

T

Walking home in the rain

It's been quite a long time since I last walked home from the pub in the rain. Since it wasn't really rain more than a light sprinkle, it was quite an enjoyable walk home. I hadn't seen a friend of mine in quite some time, and since she'd broken up with my close friend, we hadn't really spoken. It was really good to catch up and have a good chat over some drinks, and then enjoy the walk home. I always talk about it, but I really miss walking places... it's just something I enjoy.

After a steak, some drinks with friends and a rain-filled walk home, I'm ready for bed. Left coast, I'm gonna miss you when I'm gone again.

T

200 posts and all things left coast

I guess it's been a couple of years of self-indulgent story sharing on this little blog o' mine. Some days it feels as though I have endless amounts to share with the world at large, and other days... well... there's a reason why I don't have posts for days on end.

Since I've been out here on the Left Coast for over a month now, I thought I'd list my Top Six things in Victoria that I just love... some involve activities, others are places to eat, and still others are just nice locations/things. Don't get bogged down in the order... there is no particular order. I'll try to add another four soon, but I've gotta run to work soon so I don't have time to make a full Top Ten list. Let me know what you think...

1. Sunday brunch at the Shine Cafe. I haven't been able to fit in a brunch here yet, but believe you me, I will soon. There's a lovely selection of eggs benedict that I tried to work through from top to bottom while I was still living here. I think I made it, but I think I should try again :) Oh, and I love the first picture featured on the "Pictures" page.

2. Fisherman's Wharf. This quaint little float-home community on the outer edge of the inner harbour is a great place to grab a coffee, walk around, get some delicious fish and chips, and even feed Sammy the Harbour Seal. Just lovely and one of my favourite places.

3. The Noodle Box. My favourite take-out place, well, ever. The Spicy Peanut Noodle Box is just simply delicious. I've been a couple of times already.

4. Oay Bay Marina. My aunt and uncle have a boat out here, and although they don't take it out on the water nearly enough, it's still a great place to either hang out, watch the local seals who mooch food off the tourists, or grab a coffee and walk around.

5. Cook Street Village and Moka House coffee shop. Although I've never lived down in this neighbourhood, I've always wanted to. The area allows me to embrace my inner-hippy/yuppie, while enjoying the most delicious of coffees. Again, just lovely. Moka House was pretty much my second home for the first few years I was out here and although it's changed a bit, it's still a place I feel at home.

6. Beacon Hill Park. I've been doing some running down along the water near the park, as it has some of the best views in the city and there are dogs and kite fliers and kite surfers everywhere. The park itself is just lovely... and if you have a family, there's a petting zoo, ducks and ponds, and lots of places to play around. Definitely one of my favourite road-running routes in town.

Off to the coffee-cart I go...

T

Talent and inspiration

Periodically, I'll poke around my "friends" on Facebook and come across people I haven't spoken to in many months, sometimes years. Since I've moved away from Alberta, I've lost touch with many old classmates and friends that I always enjoyed seeing.

Just a few minutes ago, I saw that a few of my old schoolmates were sending messages to each other via the lovely aforementioned social communication device, and I came across Jane's website. I knew that she was persuing her artistic endeavours out east at a school in Ontario, but I haven't spoken to her in a few years. Obviously what I thought was simply impressive in high school has blossomed into something even more intense.

Although the site is under construction, I urge you all to check it out. You just have to go to her homepage... JaneRenyk.com

Just enjoy and let me know what you think. Jane, if you ever come across this page, I'm truly impressed.... all the best with your work.

T

Have you ever...

... driven a car without brakes? Well, I can understand if you haven't yet had the pleasure. Or, should I say the HORROR!?!?

On the way to work this morning, I noticed that my brakes were acting a little funny, but they were still working so I didn't think too much about it. I have a 35 minute commute to the painting gig I'm working right now, so the fact that I made it to work without incident made me forget all about it.

However, as I was getting ready to leave work, my brakes seemed a bit wonky. I began driving, immediately noticing that I could push my foot down nearly through the floor when hitting the break and I would receive varely any response. I kept trying them as I drove slowly down the road, and knew that something was wrong. However, in my male stubborness, I was just thinking, "If I can just make it to the shop in town, I'll get them checked out."

Since I'm working out on the Peninsula here on Van Isle, I took a side road home. However, after passing through one of the towns on the way back into the city, I knew I didn't have many options left... I could press all the way down on the brakes without any response until they literally locked up and I went skidding to a halt. Likewise, it was raining like a banshee so I was really a four-wheeled danger train ready for trouble.

Luckily, I came across a shop shortly there after and pulled in. Just before they closed shop, I convinced the manager to have someone take a look at the car. Sure enough, I'd blown my compressor in my rear brakes (which also needed some other work) and tomorrow morning I can pick up my ride, $360 to the negative. At least I'm alive to tell the story, I guess. I don't really recommend driving without some sort of functional stopping device on your motor vehicle. Just thought you'd like to know.

Now... why do people drive new cars? See above. Ford Escorts weren't meant to drive for more than 280,000 kms.

T

Departures

I've heard that death and taxes are life's only certainties. However, I think departures are inevitable as well. It's easy to think that, since they are in fact an unavoidable part of life, they should be easy to deal with. But watching people walk away, whatever the circumstances, can be difficult.

I've been struggling with what seems to be a staggering amount of uncertainty and a major sense of rootlessness... the transient nature of this period in my life has caused these feelings of treading water without being able to touch my toes to the bottom. Many factors are involved (which I don't really need to get into), but the things that seemed so certain are just, well.... the opposite.

I've been out on the coast for a month now, hours and a million miles away from the one I love, and the close friends I was staying with have also parted... they're off on a month-long trip to SE Asia, so I'm house sitting in their absence. For a few weeks, anyway. And so here I am... trying to figure out what comes next. My work schedule has been sorted out for the next few weeks, and I have an idea of when I'll be returning to my home base... and sure, I know that life is waiting for me there... but nothing seems certain... nothing seems solid and tangible. Quicksand is all that remains.

This may be just a melodramatic moment, but I'm terrified of what's to come. No longer can I rely on the familiar safety net of university and part time jobs and the ability to do as I wish. I know I've mentioned it flippantly before, but these seem to be the first days of the rest of my life. What's to come on the other side of the door is anyone's guess... hell, I'm not even sure. I've always been the one to have it all figured out, and I'm racking my brain to sort out exactly what will happen or what to expect. But I remain blank.  In a sense, I'm simply trying to ignore the fact that I'm metaphorically surrounded by water... if you ignore the water, does it cease to exist?

I don't know... I'm probably just obsessively philosophizing because of a lack of things to do. But here I remain, nonetheless. I guess I just need to keep showing up and see what happens. "For the longest way round is the shortest way home"....

T

Vacations are always tiring

It wasn't so much a vacation, but the trip back home to the prairies had a much more positive connotation this time... the marriage of my little sister.

K and I made it to Calgary on Tuesday evening and stayed with the in-laws Tuesday night. I'd wanted to go to the Zoo for a long time now, so we spent Wednesday touring the Calgary Zoo, hoping to catch a glimpse of this year's babies. Although the baby gorilla was in some sort of hiding from the crowds of zoo-goers, we did get to see the adorable baby elephant and a tonne of other cool animals. I was exhausted by the time we'd walked around the whole park, but it was well worth it.

After making it down to Bridge City that night, we spent the rest of the week eating, drinking, carousing and celebrating the fact that we were all together as a family on better terms. It was a week of celebrations that involved a lot of food, a LOT of beer and wine, and, last night, a HUGE amount of dancing. If you see K anytime in the next little while, she'll let you know. The speeches were touching, the groom sang a wonderful version of "I Wanna Grow Old With You", and we just had a great time seeing my little sister start a whole new family line. Congrats to the both of you crazy kids!

Alas, I had to return to reality on the Island in order to get to work tomorrow, so here I am, ready to turn into a pumpkin and head to bed. The joy and bliss of painting calls my name for another day, so off I run. Until again...

T

Coastal living

I'm officially out on the coast to work for the summer. Actually, I've been out for nearly two weeks, but there's no need to get caught up in the details. I'm here, and the weather is gorgeous and the ocean I miss so much is still here, so I shouldn't complain.

I'm back painting/training with the student painting company I've worked for in the past. Things have been going tolerably well, but I'm still having trouble hitting my groove. I think I'm just perpetually obsessive about getting things right, and in this line of piece-rate work, that's not really the best trait to have... financially speaking, anyways.

It's been fun living with SW and his lady... pretty chill, and there's always someone around to have a beer with. I'm still worried that I'm intruding into their world and throwing a wrench into the gears, but there have been enough interruptions that I don't think they're getting overwhelmed. I was gone last weekend and am leaving again on Tuesday, and by the time I get back they're going to be leaving for SE Asia after that for a month. Thus, just when they get all topped up with TM, off I go or off they go.

It's been a bit of a rough week and a half. After learning about my lack of work for September, I came out here to learn a few short days in that my grandfather passed away. So the following Friday (last week) I flew back to the prairies for the funeral and to spend time with the fam. That, along with the fact that work has been pretty "meh" so far and the fact that KM is a long way away makes it tough to be out here. Someone's always home, but I'm still feeling a bit lonely and sad at times.

Still, though, when I feel the ocean breeze on a sunny day and I don't fall off a ladder and I get a phone call from KM and there's beer in the fridge after a long day in the heat, life's not all that bad. It could definitely get worse, but I'm hoping it doesn't.

Until again, loyal readers (hi to both of you!),

T

So many things...

Life is sometimes (often?) overwhelming. It seems like I'm just being drilled with a million things at once right now, and I don't know where to put all of this emotional stress and energy. Just when I thought I could take my mind off work, I have a new job and a new location to worry about, and new employers and co-workers to please. I'm back in a town that I grew to call home, but after two years of being away, it's seems slightly strange... foreign. And I know I'm only here for 6 weeks or so, but it doesn't change the feeling that everything is just a bit foreign and although the streets still seem familiar, I feel like a sad nomad without a home.

And maintaining the sensation that nothing is solid or founded in stone, the rock of my paternal family has passed on. At 93 (0r 94?) years of age, my father's father, my grandfather, Joe Mrak has passed awau. I rationally understand that he was ready to go and he lived a good life so there's little to mourn, but knowing that he's gone is just another crack in the foundation of my world. Trying to talk to my dad over the phone from 500 miles away is even harder... how can I be strong when the superman of my world has been brought to sadness and tears?

Still, I remain here, looking out on the ocean, apart from my family, my wife, and the things I know so well... alone to deal with the world as it stands. When faced with everything uncertain, I just keep walking. Sometimes I get the feeling that if I stop, I won't want to start walking again... walking is sometimes the hardest thing to begin. So I simply don't stop. I don't often think of destinations... just motion.

T

Letting go

So often in life, we get caught up trying to control things that are out of our hands. I've been especially guilty of this over the previous few months, and I haven't really had the wisdom to see the difference between what is in my control and what isn't.

The big realization I've come to is that I just have to let go of the things that are out of my hands, and I keep thinking that I should've embraced the words of the "Serenity Prayer" long ago...

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference."

I can only do the best with what I'm given. And so, I let go and find some solace, all the while hoping (and in all reality knowing) that things will work out the way they need to work out.

- T

Ends

NOTE: In the editing process of this post, much of it was lost. I'm too lazy to type it up again, so ya'll will get the abbreviated version with a couple of pictures. My apologies...

My alarm went off at precisely 6:00am Saturday morning (8 days ago). I felt like I was already somewhat awake, anticipating what was to come. After showering, getting my clothes together and checking the abysmal weather forecast, I got K up and we headed out the door.

It was race day... I signed up for the race a few months ago and have been running a few times a week with my running group to train for it. Twenty-five kilometres of hills and trails lay before me, and although I was a bit nervous, I just wanted the rain to hold off and I simply wanted to finish.

K didn't stick around at the start... she wanted to get back to bed so she could come back and watch me finish. Luckily, a friend happened to show up and sign up for the race unexpectedly, so I hung with her for a little bit beforehand. We watched people slowly gather around the start lines and go through the regular pre-race motions of warming up and stretching and making sure shoes were tied and water bottles were filled.

After seeing some friends and acquaintances and making an attempt to mentally prepare myself, we toed the line and took off. Throughout the race, we battled mud and creek (the area has had huge amounts of rain lately, and the mountain runoff has been travelling down our formerly wonderful trails) and fatigue and hills... but I made it out alive. I was aiming to complete the course in around 2hrs 50mins, and my final time was 2:33:34... I blasted my hopes by nearly 17 minutes! I was pretty excited not only because I'd never run that far before, but I placed 12th overall out of nearly 50 people in my first ever trail race and I was in front of people who ran these races regularly throughout the year.

Good on ya, legs... you did good. (The time clock on the right is at 3:33:35... the 50k runners left at 7am and the 25k runners left at 8am... the time looks longer because of the earlier start time, just so you don't think I'm lying!).

The end of many chapters

The metaphor of reading a book and closing it's cover is definitely overused. However, it's used often because it seems so suitable. Just like the seasons, all things come to an end.

I have exactly 10 days of teaching left before final exams arrive for my classes. Therefore, each block of students only has 5 remaining classes until they are completely finished for the year (other than the final exam the following week). Not only is this ending, but so is rec volleyball (playoffs are on Wednesday) as it my training for my 25k trail race (takes place Saturday). By the time July hits, my weekly schedule will be blank. In many ways, it makes me sad... but in many ways, it can't come soon enough. I'm exhausted quite regularly, my marking pile never seems to disappear, and there's always some student problem to fix. Also, it seems like when I'm in the house, K isn't and vice versa and now that she's re-starting cardio bootcamp on Monday, she'll be starting up her busyness (not to mention her new job starts the same day).

I guess we're in a time of flux... we've become distant with the craziness of late, but I can only hope that summer brings sunshine, walks in the parks, and some time to find each other again. Sometimes it's just too easy to lose touch with everything important in life because we get so busy, well, living. Bring me the sunshiney days and starry nights and the loving eyes of the one I love.

T

The myth of stupid questions

As a teacher, I feel as though I need to clarify the age-old idea of "there are no stupid questions".


My response to this? It's B.S. Why do I think that? Let me tell you (in a round-about way that comes back to the question later...


Students can be lazy. No, not all students, and no, not all the time. But quite often, they're lazy. They want the teacher to do the work FOR them. They want to sit back and "learn" everything through some miraculous form of osmosis I've never encountered... it's like they'd be a great audience for that sort of hypnotic-like sleep learning where you play a CD with information on it while you sleep and when you awake... EUREKA! Brains!

I got in an argument with a student a few months ago about something similar. Yes, I realize that, as the adult in the situation, I should not argue with students. However, she insisted. She was upset that I was unfairly negative to her in class, and that I was always telling her that she was wrong. There was a long history of encounters behind this, but this was definitely one of them. And the thing is: I didn't deny it.

The reason I didn't deny it was because she was CONSTANTLY wrong. Or, at least off-topic. And I'm not the type of person to say that it might be her interpretation and that's fine, but I was looking for something else... I'm a bit more blunt as I want them to understand that it was a myth to believe that anything can be interpreted in any way and, in reality, there are a finite number of ways we can interpret literature. She didn't really appreciate this academic perspective and simply thought I was being "mean".

I'd ask a question about a topic and she'd put up her hand. When I called on her for a response, she'd often get away from the textual discussion at hand and dive into a personal tirade on what she believed. Now, I'm all for having beliefs... but they have their place, and the academic environment of literary analysis isn't it.

An example would go as follows: I begin to make a point that physical descriptions of characters in stories DO NOT dictate WHO the characters are or necessarily what they are like. Just because the character has blonde hair does not mean that the character has any characteristics that only blondes hold (Disclaimer: I'm very aware that some authors do, in fact, utilize physical descriptions in order to develop a certain facet of a personality. William Golding does this shamelessly in Lord of the Flies). However, I wanted to make the point that when we discuss character in a story, the physical description is generally meaningless unless the author intentionally connects the two. In essence, it was a discussion about stereotyping and unfair assumptions being made without evidence to support it, which is a much more universal lesson than they realize... we, as readers must rely on evidence from three main sources: what the character says, how the character acts, and what the other characters (or the narrator) say about the character in question.

I connected this to our real lives... I made a comment that, "Just because Joe-Blow dyes his hair doesn't mean I can assume anything about his personlity. I could, but I would be working on stereotypical assumptions. This is the same as saying this: Bobby-Lou has blonde hair so she must be unintelligent." So, my little friend put up her hand and said, "If you knew Joe-Blow, you'd know that the dye-job DOES say something about him." I conceded the fact that this was wholly possible, just like blonde girls can be unintelligent and skinny guys with glasses can be interested in Friday nights spent working out mathematical equations. I explained, though, that in literary analysis we cannot assume this and we MUST focus on evidence from the text. The same goes for life.

Did she just let it go? Nope. She kept on going. She explained that she could tell things about people by the way they dressed. I explained to her that she was starting to get away from the point and the whole problem with stereotypes is that they're often inaccurate or completely untrue. Did this deter her? Not a chance. She kept going, trying to convince me that everyone is limited to how they dress in her mind, so she should be able to talk about it in her paragraph. Just to be able to move on, I pointed out that the fact that she was simply wrong because it was a superficial assumption and she simply couldn't do so, especially in a liteary response. Her response? She got upset and started making rude comments about me to her friend.

There was also an essay written about a moral dilemma... we'd talked about moral dilemmas in a short story and then I gave them a news article, asking them if the man in the article SHOULD have received a reduced sentence in jail for carrying out a mercy killing on his daughter who suffered from cerebral palsy, constant pain, and had the developmental capacity of a three-month old (she was 12). In her essay, she made countless errors in various areas, and ended off by saying, "I know [the daughter] would have been sad to see her dad go to jail. And I know that God would have forgiven him, so why can't the government?" I explained that these personal assumptions were fine to hold in her own worldview, but their overtly personal and unfounded nature had no place in a formal persuasive essay. Her response? I was unfair and she could believe that if she wanted. Again, there was a complete disconnect between what the expectation of the assignment was and my explanation of instructions, and what she wanted to say and believe. This was only one episode out of many (so don't assume that I overreacted in one isolated situation), and although I could've borne a single confrontation, repeated challenges of this sort without a sincere interest in actually improving and understanding the perspective of the other person deflate me to the point where I find that I lose all patience in the matter.

It got me thinking about a lot of things, and frustrated me to no end. It made me realize that some kids don't want to learn or understand or improve their skills... they simply want someone to take their word for it... they don't understand that without an interest in understanding and learning from their mistakes (and they do, in fact, make many mistakes), they just won't improve and succeed.

This brings me the long way around to the quote I put up on the board in my room (I have a whiteboard behind my desk that I fill up with quotes about various things from famous people)...

"Some say that there are no stupid questions, but we must be quick to see the flaw in such reasoning... unless the question is asked with a sincere interest in the pursuit of truth and knowledge, all questions find futility."

I didn't attribute the quote to anyone, which surprisingly made the words garner more interest than most of my other quotes. A few students asked who said it... I simply responded with the question of, "what do you think?" Most said they liked it, and only then did I attribute the saying to someone... me (yes... this is a shameless celebration of my nugget of wisdom. Just passing it on)

:)

T

Days

I know pretty much nothing about Einstein's Theory of Relativity. However, I think today is one of those days that proves his theory. The influence of emotion and sensation on the human experience determines time, determines space, and so many other things. In all reality, it determines life. Today drags, and continues, and meanders miserably and slowly into the grey, overcast, Tuesday afternoon. The end of work signals nothing more than a transition to something else, but but the transition will only bring more slow movement... more silent voids.

Only anxiety remains strong.

T

The (in)ability to embrace uncertainty

Some days, I feel like a walking paradox. I need structure, but I rail against it. I need certainty, but I provide myself and others with none. I often despise ambiguity and just want it told to me straight, but I, myself, am ambiguous and ambivalent and I don't know what to do about it. I need control, but give it up to others regularly. I can take charge, but I don't mind being the sheep. I thrive in the quiet, but idleness makes me crazy. And I want patience from others, but I fail to be patient myself.

The previous few months have shown me exactly this. My last post likely hinted at it. I get inside my head and become trapped, uncertain, scratching to escape. I know I need to let go of things, but I hold on to them greedily, like a rottweiler. Can it be that I hold the key to my own imprisonment? If so, why do I insist on hiding my mode of escape?

I realize this is clear as mud and likely makes little sense to the three friends who continue to indulge this wholly egotistical practice of blogging, but we all need an outlet. Running has been one of the latest outlets, but I can only run so far and so long before body gives out and my mind remains. But the impulse to write stays strong, just as it did when I was just an angsty teen looking for an argument or some way to engage with the world around me. So I guess I'll keep on writing and trying to figure out my life. Pen to paper, foot to pavement... question to question to question...

T

The pursuit of tangibility

I have a fundamental flaw in my ability to believe. I'm a skeptic… a cynic… a person who is often unwilling to take things at face value. I need proof… something tangible I can hold in my hand, hold up against a light, sink my teeth into in order to prove its validity and value. At the end of the day I need something I can grab onto without doubt… if doubt exists for any reason, I may release it unto its own accord. Show me God and I will show you faith. Aye… but there's the rub.

How can any man believe without seeing… trust without knowing for certain? I need to see… to trust… to be shown. But what of faith? By definition, faith is not something proven, but something trusted without this structure… without proof… without the solid foundation of tangibility. It lies outside the human sensory experience and must exist intellectually. It is a time where we must abandon the "seeing is believing" mentality to dive head-first into the pool that is faith. Herein lies the problem. My problem? What if my pool of faith is too shallow for such diving? What if I feel as though my pool has been tainted… how does it become clean? I'm not sure if this will make sense, but is it even possible to taint such a pool? Is it possible to drain such a sea?

Not only do I feel a need for tangible proof in anything deemed suspicious or uncertain, but other areas of my neediness have created problems in my relationships as well. I'm quick to trust, but also quick to be cautious. I'm quick to love, but also quick to be critical. I give much of myself, but I also need reinforcement and support. It's like I'm extremely willing to empty the contents of my cup, but I'm also quick to need it refilled in return. I am not so selfless that I can give without receiving… I'm not referring to goods and things, but emotional needs. I give, but I must also get.

How do we go about releasing the anxiety related to losing sight of our faith to return to a place where faith is regained or rediscovered? I guess this is my path… my journey.

As C.S. Lewis said, "For the longest way round is the shortest way home."

T

Fighting the rain

The forecast wasn't wonderful. Leaving the house at 6:30am, I knew the cosmos may not conspire to give us sunshine, but I guess they were willing to conspire in one way. How was I to know that the conspiracy would feature rain and wind and more rain?

I shook out the nerves I was feeling as the race approached. After reaching the destination and hopping on the bus out to the start line, I could feel the nervous butterflies beating actively in my gut. "There's nothing to be nervous about... this is just for fun." It's funny how there are things you know... but all the knowing in the world can't help you shake the fact that you feel something else, contradictory and completely unavoidable.

We arrived and hopped off the bus, and I noticed that although it was obviously overcast and a bit chilly, rain was absent. It was dry on this part of the road, so I thought maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be too bad. I saw our fearless leader... the man who has been running my training clinic for the past few months, and you could sense the excitment in him. This was just another day on the road for him... another day to strap on the shoes and give 'er. I could sense his relaxation and thought again that there's nothing to be nervous about... just put one foot in front of the other and you'll be fine.

The race began and the action plan went through the window. I planned to start off at a slow pace... barely a jog, and pick it up a bit each kilometre. Unfortunately, my feet had other plans and within a minute I was striding at my typical pace comfortably. I knew this may not be the best idea, but sometimes I just let the feet do the talking. I'd never run a road race of this distance before, but I wasn't about to get in an argument with the things that were getting me home. I shut out the intimidation of the uber-runners with their fancy gear and years of experience, and simply put rubber to the pavement.

A few minutes later, the sky started changing and soon it was spitting. And the wind picked up slightly. And the spitting trickle turned into a more intense spray. And the spray turned into rain. By mile four, I was soaked. By mile five, I could hear sloshing in my shoes. And by mile six, I could feel my jacket collecting rain and become more heavy and begin to slowly shred my nipples, a layer of skin at a time. Because of this predicament, off came the jacket. But then it was cold. But at least my shirt wasn't moving around... I'd rather feel the slapping of my wet jacket against my legs than the uncomfortable burning sensation on my sensitive parts.

Needless to say, I slogged through the final four miles in some discomfort. I haven't discovered the joy of bodyglide quite yet, but an investment will be made soon. I ended up running the race in a respectable time (1:18:50), but I'm paying for it... sore chest (bleedy nipples), lower-back chafing, and some mild leg pain from I-have-no-idea what. But it's over and done with and I happy to say I did it. The route featured some fantastic scenery and I was pleased with my performance... my breathing and gait were contolled, the hills didn't bother me, and I think if the weather was better, I may have shaved off a number of minutes from my time. But, a pancake breakfast and some dry clothes at the finish did well to soothe the discomfort. Mmmm... pancakes.

I have another 5 weeks to go until the race I'm actually prepping for. I'm still somewhat scared because it's much longer (more than 1/2 marathon length), and there's a tonne of hills, but it should be a good test for me. And should be something I can be proud of for a while to come (as long as I don't die). I'd spend more time explaining my plans, but I've got a leg to ice.

T

Although I knew it had been looming...

... the anniversary has passed. This is a post from just over a year ago, when I lost one of my students from my practicum school.

RIP K.L.

T

The world of anxiety

It's that time of year again... posting season.

For the non-teachers out there, it is a time of importance only in the areas of getting outside and enjoying fresh air. Sure, for some it is the stressful time of tax season (or the release of stress post-tax-season), but for most persons in Canada, it's just a newly sunny time of year.

For new teachers, though, it's a time of year that is met with a combination of dread and excitement. When I say "posting", I mean the posting of new job opportunities. Gaaa!

Last week it began. It always starts with a round of jobs posted for those who already have (or are in a seniority level where they can apply for) continuing positions in this district. Many of these jobs have certain people in mind, and are posted in such a way that very few people (other than the anticipated prospect) would have the qualifications to take on the role. Examples are similar to this: "Secondary School looking for a qualified individual who can teach the following: senior English, Social Studies, Dance and Psychology". Or... "Senior Math teacher needed who can also teach Physical Education and Foods". Some are simply retirements and people leaving the district, but even those often have a certain someone special in mind.

Realistically, most people aren't qualified in all these random areas and the people that may be qualified are likely not interested in teaching such a smorgasboard of classes. However, the one person who the administrators have in mind IS looking for exactly this job, particularly since it's unlikely that all the necessary qualifications may not be needed when the teaching schedule gets finalized over the summer or early in the fall. Playing politics, people... that's what it is.

The problem with such a system is two-fold: A) You have to be willing to play into the system by doing a bit of sucking up and self-selling... and, B) you must rank high enough on the ladder to actually have the possibility of playing such games. I, my friends, have no such luck. I'm at the bottom of the pole. So, until the leftovers are offered to the non-humans (A.K.A. those without any seniority status), I will be waiting in painful agony for news about work. Likely, it'll be June 23rd before I hear anything solid. Until then, it's all just rumours and hopeful expectations.

On a brighter note (read two ways!), I'm running in a 10-Miler race down in the southern Okanagan on Sunday! It should be lots of fun and good opportunity to see how I do when I'm pushing myself a little bit. I haven't been doing any real road-running as of late, so this'll be a bit of a challenge. Still, there should be a handful of the runners from the running clinic participating, and it's a small crowd that participates. K won't be tagging along because she's abandoning me tomorrow to head down to sunny California with her mom for a family wedding. She's gone until Sunday afternoon, so I'll be zipping down to the Skaha region, running my race, and zipping back before she flies in (as long as I don't die on the course!). While she's gone, I'm going to be a busy boy... volleyball, running, a potluck, a birthday party... oh, and I guess a bit of teaching too... so much to do in so little time!

Hopefully I can actually get some sleep tonight so I'm not a total wreck for the rest of the week. As we all know, though, hope is a feathered thing my friends, so I guess we'll just have to see how it all comes out in the wash.

T

The existence of a twin...

What do shadows know of heartbeats? I think they only know of silence...

T

Sunny weekends and new shoes

It's been nearly 2 months since signing up for my local trail running clinic, and I have to say I'm enjoying it more and more. My participation has been greatly limited because of my busy schedule, but now that coaching is done until at least September, I have a bit of breathing room and some time to get out and train.

I was never a runner as a kid or teen... as a guy who suffered from exercise and allergen-induced asthma, I would start wheezing and hacking after about 5 minutes of sustained activity. I was always a bit out of shape because of this, and didn't ever consider myself particularly athletic... that title went to my older brother who played more sports and was better at them (except maybe badminton and golf... now, the golf thing is definitely in his favour). Not only was it laborious, but I was always quick to blame my struggles on the asthma and was never particularly interested in figuring out ways to get past them... it was always a crutch on which I readily leaned.

Since high school, though, my asthma symptoms have greatly faded to something that rarely bothers me. I suffer more from seasonal allergies now, but I've learned how to control my asthma through controlled breathing and I've got some pills to battle the sneezing and eye itchiness. So after being lazy and never doing anything more than once or twice-weekly rec volleyball, K and I did the two months of bootcamp last fall.

This was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Although we stopped going and bought gym memberships afterwards, I've been much more ambitious when it comes to personal fitness since we did it. And now that I'm running with an organized club and training for what I consider a "real" race (25k cross-country trail race in 6 weeks time), I probably feel better than ever. Sure, I haven't really done any cross-training or workouts since, well, January at the gym, the running thing is awesome. Yesterday we did over 2 hours and 16kms through a local creek greenway. One of the girls in the clinic took some pictures...

You may not have guessed, but I'm the one on the left. And there's more...

I was going to point out some serious irony in the next picture, but it's sideways and won't work very well. On the inside of each of these kilometre markers, they stamp a sponsor who maintains the trail. We began our run yesterday morning at the 8km marker, came to the end of the trail (the 16km marker) and ran back. The ironic part is this: the sponsor for Kilometre #16 is: Springfield Funeral Home! I guess I was a little nuts to do this cross-country running thing. But I thought it was hilarious.

Since I'm the youngest person participating in this training clinic and the only male that is actually training for the race (our fearless leader "D" is an ultra-marathon champ, is 60, and outruns me without any problems), I've needed to challenge myself, which is why "D" is such a good guy to have along... I need a chase rabbit, and he does a great job of doing just that.

I don't know how I'll finish at the race, but I'm hoping to do it in under 2 hours and 50 minutes. Is it realistic? I'm not too sure, but I think so. Regardless, the next 6 weeks are going to be full. Wish me luck.

T

Oh, and I forgot to show off my sweet new shoes!!!

Often

During my quiet days, my anti-social days, I often look back at my friendships, relationships and my interactions with my family and I get introspective. I wonder about whether or not I'm responsible for friendships that fell to the wayside or relationships that fizzled. I wonder who I hurt and who has hurt me... I know some of the hurt was unintentional... collateral damage for the situation. But other times, the hurt was due to carelessness, or immaturity, or disdain.


I also look back with a smile when I imagine some of the moments I've shared with people... watching the Northern Lights on the coulee edge with a close friend from University... sharing the perfect sunrise with someone new while extremely intoxicated during safe-grad... sharing moments of frustration with my travelling partners while navigating through a mysterious continent with what seemed to be an impossible language barrier... hiking to the top of a mountain without enough water and running the entire trail down to our stock of H2O... drinking wine for hours and talking about how lives become intertwined and how this moment in time was a conspiracy of the cosmos... talking to my wife while walking along the ocean or through a park, just trying to sort out our lives, all the while knowing that I have someone who will always listen and always forgive and who knows that even when I make mistakes that I have good intentions and I would never want to hurt her.

There are other moments... quieter moments I've spent alone, left to my own thoughts and my own devices. Strange moments where I feel lost, even in a familiar environment. Moments where I stare off into the distance or into the eyes of someone familiar, and suddenly things have changed. How, I cannot say. And moments where I write and feel like a poet who is all alone, even though I'm surrounded by people, realizing that lonliness has much more to do with our need to share than it does with our immediate environment and surroundings.

I changed the heading quote today after reading a story by an author named Jack Hodgins. I thought of my relationship with my parents and how it's transformed over the past 10 years, especially since moving away. Although I think I've acquired many of my mother's genetic traits, my father and I struggled to find common ground when I was younger because of our combined stubborness and our common need to be "right" in anything we did or said. Although I've learned how to reign in my stubborness more these days, I still have moments of weakness and I'm still easily frustrated by many things. I only hope that I become more flexible in years to come (even though I realize that the opposite is more likely). Dad and I still look at each other from across a metaphorical space of falling debris, but I know the space isn't nearly as wide as it once was, nor is the debris as dense. It felt like a chasm years ago... maybe it's simply as wide as the distance across a Sunday dinner table.

T

Adventures

This weekend marked the second-last week of coaching for the year for me. My buddy J (one of the other assistants) took our team down to the Fraser Valley for a tournament, and made a repeat in 5th place. The drive out there was splendid, and I'm still convinced that the drive between Cranbrook and Osoyoos, and between Hope and Chilliwack, are two of my favourite drives ever. The scenery was stunning, and I could've been content to simply drive back home after driving into the sunset on Friday night. I also got to meet up with a good friend from the coast for a drink at a pub close to the river, and it reminded me of home on Vancouver Island. I sure miss the coast.

Even though we could've turned around after the drive, we decided to stay for the weekend and the boys finished fifth. Provincials are coming up this coming weekend in North Vancouver, so I'm just excited to have it over and done with. For the first time all season, the entire coaching staff will be attending, which should help our team perform to their best ability. Although I'm happy that we're building toward a positive finish, it is the finish itself that I'm excited about.

School's been challenging lately, as I know my previous posts have related. I'm quite over-tired, and yesterday morning was possibly the most trying day I've faced all semester. It's still the same block that is giving me trouble, and the same girls that are causing me stress. However, it seems like I'll be able to much of the problem tomorrow by creating an independent working environment for one particularly toxic student, and I'm hoping that many of my problems will be solved. I also had to lay down the law on a regularly tardy and drama-filled student, which will hopefully have some productive results.

I explained to my afternoon block that my morning was challenging so I might have a bit of a short fuse, and they were happy to oblige and be as positive as possible. One student even brought me a small slush to brighten up my day. Another student saw the look of frustration in my eyes and said, "Mr. M, don't quit life". His words are now immortalized on the whiteboard I use for putting up inspiring quotations behind my desk.

Yesterday even started off with a mouse fiasco. K called me into the kitchen as I was getting out of the shower because she thought she heard a mouse. Well, this is episode #3 since moving away, and #2 here in the OK Valley. So, I went to investigate, and after realizing that he wasn't hiding in the stove drawer, that he was actually under the sink. It turns out that in the process of rummaging around in our recycling under the stove, the stupid thing managed to knock over a can which overturned on top of him and trapped him. The noise was him trying to get out. I tried to figure out what to do with him, but since I was running a bit late, I didn't have time to sort any action plan out, so I simply put a shoe on top of the can and left him there. When I got home last night, I thought he was dead (no noise in the can when moving it around). I thought I'd flush him but just as I went into the bathroom (with some cardboard over the can which I slid underneath to get him out from under the sink), he started scurrying around. Not wanting to risk letting him loose in the house and not wanting to drown him, I took him out to our patio, stood over the side, and sent him flying out into the parking lot. Don't worry... after a brief tumble, he got up and ran away.

Disaster averted.

Now I just have to battle another busy week and get as much marking done as possible (report card marks due by Friday!). Otherwise, I'm just hanging in there. I can't wait until this week is done. Until again, all...

T

Settling back in

Spring has sprung and after a hectic week following spring break, it seems like the kids have started to settle back into the typical school routine. For the first day since starting my new job, I had every one of my kids attend class in both blocks today. It was a bit of the ol' too good to be true (I had a student leave at the afternoon break), but overall I was pretty excited about the situation overall.

Things around the house have been pretty hectic lately. I'm still coaching, and we're into the final two weeks of our club season. Our guys are playing pretty well (placing 5th in the province at the most recent tournament), and they seem to be gelling as a team. I'm still struggling to become a voice of authority with them, because many of them still see me as the inexperienced friendly guy who helped coach them last year. I was very open about my inexperience with them last year, and some of them take this to mean that I don't know what I'm doing. Although I'm the first to admit I am still figuring things out as far as the coaching goes, my knowledge of the game is fair and I have a lot of playing experience. Being young doesn't help either. And both of these factors have played a role in players not wanting to listen to me as an authority figure when our head coach is absent.

The same has gone for parents... being young and inexperienced, I'm an easy target for disgruntled parents who think either their kids are the centre of the universe and expect me to believe the same, or that I'm simply incompetent and I couldn't coach a team to save my life. Just the other day, I ran into one of my player's parents... being congenial, I went up and made small-talk about him being at my schooling selling his wares (high school study guides), and it didn't take him long to launch into some heavy criticism about the way the team is being coached and the fact that his son (who is used to being the premiere player on the team) is splitting time equally with another player who plays the same position. In essence, he was mad that his kid wasn't on the floor at all times. He was especially critical of our most recent tournament (where, ironically, our team and the other setter had their best performances of the season so far) and that a number of parents were upset with the way we were running things. I found this doubly-interesting because of the fact that our head coach was away and myself and my buddy (one of the other assistants) were left to run the team. I explained to him that a) it was really late in the season to start bringing such things up and b) if he had any concerns that our head coach would happily discuss them. So, I emailed our head coach explaining the situation and he set up a time to meet with Mr. Parent. Did the parent show up? Nope. We had two practices on the weekend, and he was supposed to meet our head coach before the first. No show. He didn't show up for the next one either. There was no explanation or excuse. Just an absence. Like I said... I'm an easy target being young and inexperienced, and people who are willing to lose it on easy targets aren't so willing to face confrontation when it would be with a man of a similar age with 25 years of coaching experienced under his belt. Needless to say, I'm not too surprised. His kid is definitely one of the ones who has a problem listening to me. Hmmmmmm.

Other than coaching, I'm supposed to start playing spring league volleyball this week... I won't make it though, because Paul Brandt is in town and K is a big fan. Thus, I'm taking her for part of her birthday present. Then, on top of these two things, I also signed up for a 3 month trail running clinic that is set up to prepare us for THIS... a 25k trail race in June. So, I'm punishing myself for having a lazy winter by being a glutton for punishment. We run twice a week with a group and then have a training schedule set up for us on other days. Have I actually done more than one of the activities on the training plan other than the organized runs? Well, not yet, but I have high hopes! If I get out tomorrow, I'll be happy that it's a good start.

So, coaching, playing, and running (along with the normal obligations of teaching) are overwhelming me a bit, but I only have 2 more weeks (and travel-weekends) of coaching left and the other obligations are physical and not mental (as well as recreational), so I should be okay. Still... I have this tendancy of overloading myself from time to time, so for now I'm not going to do much else... just run, work, and play some ball.

K's busy too... she'll be starting a new job (well, same job, new advisors) in the next month, and she's off to LA for a cousin's wedding with her mom in May. Then we have my little sister's wedding in July, and some camping to do in the meantime. The sun has started shining pretty consistently and the mornings are warming up, so it's just a short while longer until summer's here to stay.

And it couldn't come quickly enough.

T

Months slipping by and the willingness to show up

Over the past year or two, I've come to realize that I'm a bit flighty.

Since graduating from high school, I've done a number of different things... travelling, working various jobs, changing universities, changing locations, etc. I've developed interests and temporary obsessions with a variety of things. Often, though, they're quickly abandoned. I guess I just get bored a little easily.

At one point in my life, I thought I had an addictive personality. However, I think it's more of an "infatuation personality"... I become really interested in a certain thing and immerse myself in it. Then, at one point, I stop doing it regularly and find less interest in it. In the beginning, I can't live without it. I crave it... need it. Soon, though, I abandon it like a couch in a back alley... I might see it out there in the cold as I look through the window over the kitchen sink and think about it... but I think to myself, "it's been a good run. It was fun while it lasted." After that, it's rarely thought of again.

I guess the same thing goes for the blog. Some days I feel an inner compulsion to share what's on my mind... I need other people to read what I write or listen to what I have to say. In truth, I know that very few people actually read this thing (thanks, K.S. and Cibi!), but the compulsion remains. Often, though, it's fleeting and will disappear altogether after a while. Like March, 2008. Although there was a lot of stuff going on in my less-than-exciting existence, I really felt no compulsion to write. And I even had two weeks of spring break. Did that change anything? Nopers. Not a word.

I think my wife should be truly happy with me... before we started dating, no girl had lasted past my 4.5 month curse (I didn't date a single girl for more than about 4.5 months before K got her hooks into me!). Not only am I happy, but I usually can't wait to see her at the end of my days and to wake up beside her every morning. Sure, sometimes I want to launch my coffee cup at her when we're in the throws of marital angst (which, of course, is inevitable), but it never makes me want to leave or give up. If anything, it just makes me want to show up more. We talked about it a few weeks ago... about the fact that love is only a fraction of the marriage... that marriage takes a tonne of work and how we assume most people underestimate that.

Somebody gave me a simple but effective piece of advice when I was getting overwhelmed during my practicum:

"The biggest thing is to keep showing up"

The times I've failed were the times when I just stopped showing up. Now, showing up goes beyond the physical... it involves the mental. I think this is one of the biggest challenges for the high school students (and teachers)... for some of them, the biggest challenge is actually making it to school. For the rest, it's showing up mentally. If they can show up mentally and engage in what's happening in the classroom, success follows almost unanimously.

The same thing is definitely true for relationships... showing up (and, of course, wanting to show up) is more than half the battle. Or, so it seems in my limited marital experience.

There's your change for a nickel. More on my actual life later (maybe in another month or two)...

T

Six weeks down (started about 2 weeks ago)

The teaching profession features (what seems like) few victories and many defeats. On certain days, no matter how many decent everyday kids are performing tolerably well in the class, one or two students can make a teacher feel completely hopeless and ineffective. I had one of thsee days recently, and wish I could rid myself of them altogether. I came home restless, and couldn't sleep... the whole night, I was dreaming of being constantly and overwhelmingly frustrated by confrontational and defiant attitudes and a complete refusal to work.

Such things are frustrating for the very fact that the minority generally spoil things for the rest of the decent kids. Many days, I realize that I need to be in control of my emotions and deal with everything with a cool head. Sometimes, though, it's difficult.

Beyond these generally minor troubles, the majority of my kids/classes have been quite good. I've definitely been able to convert a number of former Shakespeare-haters and turned them into lovers of The Bard. Now, I'm hoping that I can take credit for some of this, but that may not be the case. Regardless, it makes me happy.

These first six weeks have stormed by, and now the long haul to June begins. We just got back from two weeks of holidays, and I'm already exhausted. The worst part is, I know I won't be catching up on my sleep anytime soon. I'm stretching myself thin, and I feel as though a breaking point is coming soon. It's not like it's the first time I've felt this way, but at least I'm not panicked... yet, anyway.

Coaching is winding down, and a new season of rec-league volleyball is about to begin. I still have two more tournaments to coach (one of which I may bail on), and the end can't seem to come soon enough. I also signed up for a new trail-running training clinic that is prepping us for a mini-ultra trail race here in the sunny Okanagan in June. It's a 25k race through the hills and trees on hiking trails... and although I've never run in anything more than a 10k, I figured it would be a great way to get ready for the 1/2 marathon I was planning to race in the fall... have I gone a bit overboard? Methinks, well... maybe.

So, between teaching, coaching, running, and playing volleyball (oh yeah, I have a wife too), I'm definitely doing too much. Something's gotta give and it might be my sanity (or my marking load!)... if only I can get through the coaching, I may make it... the rest seems manageable. Three weeks seems like a long time from now, though. Lord help me...

T

The art of doing (very) little

My days have been quite full. It's been weeks since I've been able to sleep late and just spend a day doing nothing. Either work or coaching or errands have shouted my name throughout the weekend, and it was just getting a bit tiring. But today, my friends... today, I managed to accomplish just what I was hoping for... very little.

After waking up late (or late-ish), I spend the morning slowly washing dishes, drinking coffee, and just hanging out with K. It seems like we haven't seen each other in weeks, which is somewhat true (particularly this last week). K's been fighting an horrendous cold/cough/flu combination from being run-down and over-tired, and I know that this would be a terrible time to suffer from that same fate. Thus, I banished myself to the futon for a few nights to stay healthy and get some shut-eye.

I thought it would only be for a night... but K just kept on coughing and had the electric blanket on high (I can't sleep when I get too hot), so I kept on passing out in the spare room. I don't really mind much... she's able to sprawl and take advantage of some extra space, and I don't come down with whooping SARS or whatever it is she's been afflicted with. Also, the futon was my actual bed for the whole first year I was on the Island, so I sleep like a baby when I'm on it. It's definitely been a few years since it was home, that's for sure.

Last night, I tried to venture back into the bedroom... K had started to feel better, and her cough seemed to have calmed down, so into bed I climbed. Between the time I crawled in at about 11:00 and when I finally woke up for good at 12:47am, the coughing didn't cease. So, off to the futon I was (again). Still, though, I slept like the dead and crawled in with K about 8am when I knew the coughing had subsided long enough to get a few extra winks.

After finally getting out of bed, I made some coffee and started on the dishes. K woke up shortly thereafter, so I got her some coffee and breakfast, and worked my way through the mountain of dishes that had accumulated throughout the week. After getting tired of wet hands and having some breakky of my own, we lounged some more, watched some Harry Potter, made some lunch and finished that off with even more lounging. It was about 3pm before I had a shower. It was lovely.

K had a coffee date with a colleague, so I headed to the gym for the first time in a couple of weeks. Saturday afternoon is a great time to go... no waiting for equipment, no rush, no jostling for space... quite enjoyable. After working on some cardio and some core, I came home, made some delicious spaghetti, did some more dishes, and capped the night with a soothing class of peppermint tea and a cookie.

It's barely 10pm, and I'm ready to turn in. No more work for this guy... it would just be out of place. Tomorrow's schedule seems a bit more full... but hopefully, it can mimic today just a bit. Sometimes doing nothing is just about the perfect thing to do.

T