Inane Musings
The last few days have been troubling. My internet addiction has become glaringly apparent in the span that I went without for a few days. I can't even work on school/freelance work when I don't have that element of multi-tasking through facebook, blogs and email. I laid on my bed this afternoon, clutching the blanket and waiting for the Shaw cable guy to show up. A blithering, sweaty mass going through withdrawal.
This weekend I moved to an amazing apartment. The neighbors actually say hello, wholesome people walk their golden retrievers, the laundry is free and the interior makes me want to engage in intellectual pursuits, like reading Theodore Dreiser and painting portraits. The last place I lived in was conducive to one or a combination of three things: making a mess, shouting at mice or eating peanut butter directly out of the jar. That is just not befitting a place as classy as this. I now eat artisanal Quebec cheeses and use a backbrush in the shower.
School is done tomorrow and my 9 years of post-secondary achievement will reach their nadir. I don't do graduations, so it will pass without much ado. Were I to do it all over again I would immediately subject myself to medical experiments, and bill accordingly. While taking some courses in film analysis on the side.
Speaking of which, I watched an AMAZING doc yesterday called Tyson. You should all go and steal it. What a loving/misanthropic/childlike/articulate/psychoanalyst/buffoon/romantic/hater he is. And his whole fighting career began when someone twisted the head off of one of his carrier pigeons - he kicked his ass (when he was 12). I was speechless during the whole thing.
This weekend I moved to an amazing apartment. The neighbors actually say hello, wholesome people walk their golden retrievers, the laundry is free and the interior makes me want to engage in intellectual pursuits, like reading Theodore Dreiser and painting portraits. The last place I lived in was conducive to one or a combination of three things: making a mess, shouting at mice or eating peanut butter directly out of the jar. That is just not befitting a place as classy as this. I now eat artisanal Quebec cheeses and use a backbrush in the shower.
School is done tomorrow and my 9 years of post-secondary achievement will reach their nadir. I don't do graduations, so it will pass without much ado. Were I to do it all over again I would immediately subject myself to medical experiments, and bill accordingly. While taking some courses in film analysis on the side.
Speaking of which, I watched an AMAZING doc yesterday called Tyson. You should all go and steal it. What a loving/misanthropic/childlike/articulate/psychoanalyst/buffoon/romantic/hater he is. And his whole fighting career began when someone twisted the head off of one of his carrier pigeons - he kicked his ass (when he was 12). I was speechless during the whole thing.