The Rivers Roar

I Can See Clearly Now - Johnny Nash

2006-12-06T03:01:00.000-04:00

I have come to a small revelation. And yet one so large that I couldn't possibly find a picture to summarize what I'm thinking. With a bit of help from Terry Pratchett - arguably one of the most insightful authors writing today - I have determined how and why fantastic girls always end up with jerks.

You know how you see a girl who's your standard fantasy shopping list of adjectives? Smart, funny, gorgeous, polite, classy, romantic and so forth? And then - when you meet her boyfriend, he turns out to be some knuckle-dragging half-ape, content to roll with the fact that he's dating one of the most well-rounded girls on the planet and take it for granted. And you sit there and wonder how and why. And why and how. But mostly - why? And how?

The standard answer is that some girls just like that. They - apparently - enjoy dating a jerk. This makes no sense to me. No one likes hanging out with people who make them feel like slime. Even people who are okay with being in a subservient role often only do so to reap praise from the person above them, whom they respect or look up to.

Ergo, there must be another reason. 'Nice guys' - or the type of guy that these fantastic girls arguably should be dating - tend to be just a little bit less forward, a little bit less cocksure, a little bit less 'male'. This means that they tend to assume such girls are 'too good' for them, or out of their league, or whatever else you want. Thus... they befriend said girls, perhaps, but never approach them romantically.

This girl - who is, by all rights, fantastic therefore is never shown romantic interest, because she's too intimidating. Since these girls also have some modesty, they never assume its because they're too 'perfect' - but instead assume there is some kind of flaw that they just can't see. Therefore, they lose a bit of self-confidence and are much more likely to try dating the first guy who actually asks them out - the cocksure, 'male' jerk. And since the wundergirl feels she has flaws, the jerk is able to exploit them to maintain the relationship.

Now... to see if this has any veracity or not.

Don't Know Much About History - Sam Cooke

2006-11-29T16:20:00.000-04:00

And the contestants on what is my new favourite game show, "You Bet Your Ass" don't know much about ANYTHING. Geography, politics - even bloody sit-coms. The reason I like it the same reason that first year students like George W. Bush - he makes you feel smart. And not even just Leah Grimmer smart... we're talking Bob Rae meets Susan Franceschet smart.

To explain... these examples all came from one show, and since I was watching the show, not taking notes on it, they're pretty close, if not word perfect.

Category: Famous Short People
Question: What 5 foot 2 leader of North Korea compensates with nuclear weapons?
Answer Given: Confused silence... umm.... *buzzer*
Real Answer: Kim Jong-Il. If you'd read a newspaper once in the last 3 years, ever seen Team America or even listened to Dubya speak for more than 6 seconds, you'd know this. Pity.

Category: Sex and the City
Question: What hairy singer made an 'ironic' guests appearence as someone's girlfriend?
Answer Given: Samantha!
Real Answer: I have never seen Sex in the City. I have better things to do with my time, like power flossing or weaving with belly-button lint - and yet the use of "IRONIC" was a pretty big effin' tip-off. Alanis Morisette is a singer, who sang 'Ironic'. Samantha is... what? A character from the show. Yes! She's OBVIOUSLY a singer. Who made a guest appearence!

Category: (A Band I Don't Recall)
Question: From what rainy country of bad teeth does this band hail?
Answer Given: Europe.
Real Answer: Hang on. Let's look at the answer given one more time. The country... of Europe. That snapping noise you just heard? My cranial cortex finally hitting the breaking point. England? Great Britain? Hell... even Mozambique would be a better answer since at least its an actual country.

Category: I can't remember.
Question: Japanese scientists made this manimal by mixing human DNA with that of what non-chocolate hopping mammal?
Answer: Frog?
Real Answer: A) The question isn't entirely accurate. This I know. My problem was that a guy responded by saying 'Frog' to a question clearly searching for a fucking mammal. I would have accepted kangaroo, spider monkey or even dog before I accepted frog.

It is of utmost credit to the host - Stewart Francis - that he hasn't reached across and placed a dinner fork 3/8ths of an inch inside one of the 'competitor's' eyeball, since every time they speak, I swear the IQ of whoever designed the show drops a point.

You Got to Me - Neil Diamond

2006-11-29T11:57:00.000-04:00

Please note that my watch says it's about 1am. This is from a completely different day, but it sure works for this story. Now on with the broadcast...

Last intramural Frisbee game of the year. As a whole, our team didn’t do quite so hot. I burned the guy covering me for two majors – so I was pretty pleased, but overall… the score wasn’t just that fantastic. 13-7 or something like that. Whatever.

After the game, we decide to take an hour and celebrate our relatively successful season and many good times. So Carrie, D-Wayne, Donald, Curtis, Kat, Glen, Eva, Graham and myself head down to Paddy’s for a pint or two. A few Craven’s, a few stories, a discussion of the fact that you can actually play the game indoors and that we’re going to form a team…

I stand up and the world rotates by about 17 degrees to the left. I, having not eaten all day and being a reasonably cheap drunk at the best of times, have gone and accidentally tipsy-fied myself.

Normally, not a huge problem. I’ll go home, happily fall asleep by 9:30 and be ready to carry on the next day. However – I have another 2000 words to write on my paper for Grieve. It’s due in about 48 hours. I have just turned down a 24 hour extension from Grieve, a decision I’m now regretting.

Thus – I have to take two hours to try to plow through enough water and ketchup potato chips to sober me up enough to be able to make semi-intelligent and intelligible prose. A cold shower serves effectively in giving me a headache, but not in doing anything to shake me up and out.

I think right about then was when I sent out the email to Dr. Grieve stating that 3000 words was too few for me. I then went back to writing, apparently now clear-headed and happy, and managed to shoot my way up to almost 70% of the paper being written. Pretty good, with about 2 days left to write the thing in.

In bed by, oh, 2:00 or so.

This morning I wake up and check my e-mail. Dr. Grieve has responded. He graciously offered me another extension – this time one of a bonus 1000 words. I accepted. Seriously… I am in need of mental help.

Back to writing things that get graded…

The Snakes Crawl at Night - Charlie Pride

2006-11-26T16:40:00.000-04:00

I seem to have a thing for snakes... I don't know why. I just like 'em. In any case... this particular article caught me eye, primarily because it was about snakes. The long and short of it was that an 8-foot python was found in the middle of a street in Scarborough, Ontario. Scarborough is noted for its lack of jungle, and in fact, total lack of anything green aside from the occasional spot of fungal growth on the underside of a cardboard Pepsi cup.

Quite frankly, I can't imagine the surprise of an individual arriving at their regular intersection on their way home and being greeted by a yawning and dozy pile of reptilian menace lifted straight from Jumangi.

My favourite part - and here I'm quoting the article - was that...

"The officers tested the snake’s temperament by prodding it with their batons..."

This is how a newspaper writer attempts to report "The officers then decided to poke at it with sticks." The snake, apparently, was relatively amicable to this and didn't attack viciously. Which, really, is a real pity - if only because I would have loved to see the euphamisms used then.

"The snake then tested the officer's epidermous for reisistance to puncture, by prodding it sharply with its lower fangs. Sadly, the external soft-shell of the human was vulnerable."

All These Things That I've Done - The Killers

2006-11-01T17:28:00.000-04:00

Until September of 2005, I was probably the most moral person I knew. I then spiralled downwards into what I would arrogantly call "the average morality", where people just kind of let themselves do what feels right at the time, and not worry about longer term consequences.

Ironically, I would argue that almost every bad decision I made in my 3rd academic year was the result of the influence of one person. While I was the one who made the poor decisions, and thus and ultimately to blame for it, it was only because of the fact that I am completely incapable of even making a single rational decision when this other person is involved. They are untrustworthy, more than a little selfish, more emotinally screwed up than even me and to top it all off, someone who is able to draw me into leading a completley unhealthy lifestyle.

Ironically, despite my very strong feelings towards this person, almost no one even knows their name. My jeesh, really, and that's about it.

And yet I can't help myself. Every time I hear from the person, I'm thrilled that they're back in my life - only to know that they'll soon push off, like a boat shoved through the choppy waters back into the centre of the lake. And I do things that you couldn't force me to do at gunpoint simply because I feel it may let me stay close to this person again. I should dislike me when I'm around them, and yet the feelings are so strong that I consciously recognize that I don't care.

This person has been the emotional paramount and detriment of my life, responsible for the highest highs and the lowest lows. And with the highs and lows of my life - that's quite a statement.

Crazy Hobbes has just danced back in. Cue the record, and spin that plate.

Always Coca-Cola - TV Jingle

2006-10-31T16:55:00.000-04:00

Here is why I think that marketing gurus of the world are failing. The push to create new opportunities to ensnare potential customers has had the corporations overlook what worked for them in the first place.

I draw your example to two seperate things.

First, the catchy jingle. I was told by a friend the other day that the era of the jingle is over. This confuses me to no end. Sure, a catchy and clever commercial may be become the latest viral video, but no one will walk around humming the hilarious catch-phrase - or in this case, kick to the bear's crotch.
For purposes of contrast, I point out the theme song for Coca-Cola from the early 1990s - "Always Coca-Cola". It's more than a decade since I first heard that, and I heard it as an 11 year old. That song has been responsible for my purchase of Toronto Blue Jays highlight videos (since a modified version is contained there-on) and a number of variations on the Coke theme song sitting on my compy. In fact, I could go for a delicious 'real thing' right now, couldn't you?

Other good exmaples include Home Hardware ("Home of the Handyman"), Tim Horton's ("Always got time for Tim Horton's") and so forth. Instead, now, I get nothing worthy of download and repeat.

Second part.

Why the hell do retailers feel it necessary to drive us to their useless websites in order to win a free 500mL bottle of pop?! Seriously!! What happened to the "look under the cap" days?! Now, instead of simply getting another Coke, and continuing to fuel my hummingbird-like addiction to sugary beverage, there are so many steps - collection of points, giving of a valid email, splitting of soul into 3 equal parts via Horcrux - that I simply can't be bothered.

As a child I used to buy the chips that had the little plastic-wrapped game card in it because there was a one in 13 billion chance I'd get another bag for FREE, but I'd get to unwrap a plastic advertisement in anticipation of the possibility!! Let's face it... kids are about as smart as a tea-kettle. Now? They have to be over 13, get their parents permission, and be subsequently bombarded with "Coke-Mail"- which, frankly, sounds to me like a custom order for some quality Nicaraguan.

So... if there's anyone out there working for Coke: a) bring back the jingle and b) send me little plastic ads that may contain 'free' product within. Please?

Feel it Turn - Great Big Sea

2006-10-22T01:19:00.000-03:00

From grade, oh, 11 or so through to pretty well October of 3rd year university, I was on a well-appreciated and recognized good luck streak. Then I had a pretty normal up and down 3rd year and summer. Then, it took a sudden turn down in October. Don't know why. Just did. Things kept piling up and it looked worse and worse. Nothing catastrophic - except for, oh, the concussion and potentially fractured neck (xrays ultimately came back negative though). The rest was just small stuff... a little bit of romantic chaos, a dash of inability to attend Atlantics, a spoonful of having screwed up my law school application and a smidgen of my sister having emergency appendix removal surgery.

The usuals. It all came to a head on Thursday evening, when I snapped and threw my backpack across a classroom, narrowly missing one of the debate novices (and a kid I TA for) by about, oh, four and a half inches.

Apparently, that was what God was waiting for.

Since then, I've managed to organize a last-minute road-trip to Cape Breton with some of my favourite debaters for a tournament with the rest of my faves. It starts with the Buick Allure - nicest car EVER - and carried on. Kipper, Karl, Colin and Chris then rocked the rest of the trip. Colin and I won Top Team, beating two quality teams in the semis and finals. Karl got Top Novice. We spent $40 on a concrete statue of the Virgin Mary... which later disitegrated, before Karl won back what was left. I even continued in my romantic chaos, but at least my view got some focus.

Then - to wrap it all up with the biggest red ribbon ever - 163 on my LSAT. That's the 89% percentile. That's my ticket to law school.

Let's Get Retarded - Black Eyed Peas

2006-10-14T22:15:00.000-03:00

It's an old picture, I know.

The one on the right. Colin, the lad who's been fueled by burgers, fries, jello, Coke, beer, rum, pizza and deep-fried chicken for as long as I've known him, has decided that he wants to try to avoid the pre-30 heart attack.

His initial strategy - to avoid having a heart - was quite effective all last year. However, since then, his rise to SRA and decrease in drinking has led to him actually having regular moments of pleasentness, quite the conscience and a decided lack of the political realism that had so defined him before. Now he's on to the more conventional method, of sweating like a horse in August, chasing around a small ball in a concrete room.

Colin has yet to master the finer points of squash. He's got a killer backhand, though. Sadly - the killer part comes from the fact that it routinely finds my bare leg, the back of my head or whizzes through my hair. On one occasion it kicked off my glasses on its way to the side wall. In any case, he's improving in both aerobic fitness AND in cutting his 'hits-to-Rivers-ration' down to one per day or so.

After he'd randomly written me around 10:00 one night, complaining of a burst of energy and a desire to play squash, we got a court and played until 11:00. Upon leaving, Colin got - as the title indicates - stupid.

Colin: "I want to go swimming."
Rivers: "Dude... the pool's closed. It's, like, quarter after 11."
Colin: "Figure something out then."
Rivers: "Umm... there's the resevoir?"

Interjection: the resevoir is about a 3km walk from the gym, completely uphill. The outside temperature is about 8 degrees. Neither Colin nor I have towels, warm clothing, bathing suits or - apparently - sanity.

Up we go, and we go swimming in our squash shorts. This now leaves about a 3.5 km walk BACK to my house, so we can have a drink.

To be fair, I recovered just fine. Colin's body hated him for about a week.

I also made a decision worthy of the title. But that's one for another time.

Ahead by a Century - Tragically Hip

2006-09-16T15:49:00.000-03:00

I meant to include a picture with this one, but for whatever reason Blogger said "No!". I assume they've been taken over by a small hoarde of enraged waterfowl, intent on restriction of civil liberties. They have begun by witholding photo-posting privileges. Clearly they are jerks.

1. My full name is Christopher Charles Rivers.
2. I wanted to be known as “Charlie” for a brief period of time last year.
3. Less than two dozen people, who aren’t related to me, call me “Chris”.
4. I’m technically a 21-year-old male.
5. According to many, I’m actually a 14-year-old girl.
6. Sappy, romantic movies hold more attraction to me then people being blown up.
7. I often cry in the movies, and try very hard to hide it.
8. St. Ives Apricot facial scrub is currently rocking my world.
9. I am endlessly concerned about my weight.
10. I’m not gay.
11. I have four peers I would trust with my life.
12. I have two I would trust with my deepest secret.
13. I would trust Ian Breneman with anything bigger than either of those two.
14. I had 3 major life goals in Grade 10: attend university, have sex, see the Maple Leafs win a Stanley Cup.
15. I don’t believe 66% is a good mark. On anything.
16. I have met three people I consider marrying.
17. I have told two of them this.
18. I used to fall in love too easily.
19.Now I worry I’ll never fall in love again.
20. I’m afraid that 100 things about me is way too narcissistic.
21. I hate it when people talk about my love life without me there to correct them, or provide insight.
22. I hate it even more when people call me a manwhore.
23. I dislike one-night stands, but kinda like short flings.
24. I can name every girl I’ve ever kissed.
25. I was described as ‘grounded’ and ‘subtle’ by one of them.
26. I have never used either of those words to describe me publicly.
27. Nor, I imagine, has anyone else.
28. She was correct on both counts.
29. I expect no one reading this to believe either me or her.
30. I am too competitive for my own good.
31. I haven’t lost at Scrabble in a long, long time.
32. I am terrible at poker, mostly since I can’t bluff.
33. I vastly prefer brutal, painful, soul-rending honesty to even the most well-intentioned of white lies.
34. I can get over anything, if people are honest. I can’t if they’re not.
35. I run at about 99% honesty, 1% failed attempt at concealing things.
36. I am about as good with my hands as a retarded chimpanzee.
37. I once put together a Wal-Mart bought bookcase 7 different incorrect ways, before dumb luck prevailed.
38. I will make excuses to postpone everything else I’m doing, if I have a book I’m intense on.
39. Without any exaggeration, owing to Australia, speed reading and a day off, I was probably the first person in the world to finish the most recent Harry Potter book.
40. I chose my thesis by choosing my thesis supervisor, and picking a topic she’d like.
41. She transferred to another school.
42. I still love my topic.
43. I want to get a law degree and a Master’s, and there’s only one program I’m seriously considering.
44. I still am unsure about the idea of living in Ottawa.
45. I have the best family life I’ve ever heard of.
46.I’ve said that before on this blog.
47. I feel bad for people who can’t call their parents or siblings to ask anything at any time.
48. My biggest concern in life is that someone will think I’m using them.
49. I have met people who learned this, and used it against me.
50. Traveling in Australia made me more relaxed, easy-going and willing to go with the flow.
51. I’m having trouble finding my place living off-campus.
52. I miss being able to visit anyone I knew in less than 3 minutes.
53. I don’t miss being woken up at 3am by fire alarms, kayaks or vomiting.
54. I love being recognized when I walk around campus.
55. Senior admin knows me well enough to ridicule me when I’m making a walk of shame.
56. I don’t know whether to be proud of that, or worried.
57. I still can’t believe that I get paid to announce varsity sports events.
58. I spend more time reading about sports than I do for school.
59. I wonder if this means I’m doing the wrong thing.
60. I have posed with Paul Martin, kissed Amanda Marshall and had a phone interview with Paul Henderson.
61. None compared to meeting Peter Zezel at the Georgetown Mall.
62. I’m not actually a Conservative, but I am actually a conservative.
63. I don’t expect you to get the distinction.
64. If you do, I’ll probably see you in class this week some time.
65. I voted and campaigned NDP in the last provincial election.
66. Kids with skateboards have always terrified me.
67. I’m not politically correct.
68. I often have trouble talking with people who are.
69. People who use personal experiences in intellectual debates are often setting themselves up to be hurt.
70. People who hold grudges because of that are foolish.
71. Formal, structured debating in Canada is full of fools.
72. I very rarely win arguments, despite often winning debates.
73. I think sex is overrated.
74. I think making out is awesome.
75. The best kiss of my life was my first kiss ever.
76. I wish girls would just be open with guys on all counts.
77. The converse holds true.
78. I would walk roughly three kilometers, at 2am, in the middle of winter, to see a girl I liked.
79. Professors Duke, Pyrcz, Franceschet (both) and Dennis are people I want to emulate.
80. I love sports – playing, watching, following.
81. I’m good at Ultimate, good at squash, good at baseball.
82. I’m crap at soccer, crap at tennis, crap at basketball.
83. I once did an organized 10km race on a whim.
84. I did it in 0:56:22 in hiking boots, a mesh-back ball cap and Hawaiin clothing.
85. I want my first male kid’s name to be Kalten Charles Rivers.
86. Clifford Charles Rivers is also acceptable.
87. I don’t have any ideas for female names, but ‘Katie’ probably figures into it somewhere.
88. I want my wife to take my last name. A lot.
89. I don’t care that makes me seem backwards and obtuse.
90. I was born in Ontario, but consider myself East Coast because I chose to live here.
91. I wish I had been born in Newfoundland.
92. I love Scouts and being a Scout leader.
93. Anyone who thinks that Scouts is lame just had crappy leaders.
94. I shudder to think that one day my younger brother will be bigger than me.
95. I love to sing songs loudly and badly as they play on my computer.
96. This often leads to me being startled by people coming up behind me.
97. When that happens, I may chase them around the house with a frying pan.
98. White wine is in, red wine is out.
99. I can’t stand smoking, cheating or hypocrisy.
100. Ian best summed me up when he said "Rivers makes a lot of stupid mistakes, but always has the best of intentions."

Really Don't Want To - Crush

2006-09-16T12:08:00.000-03:00

"I wonder what Tony LaRussa thinks when he puts Jason Isringhausen in a one-run game in the ninth inning. I bet it's something approximating this: I would rather chew on glass while walking through a pit of boa constrictors, naked and on fire, than watch this half-inning."

- Peter King, Monday Morning Quarterback, si.com

I often try to stretch bizarre analogies... but this one is absolute gold.

Great Big Sea - Rant and Roar

2006-09-12T11:00:00.000-03:00

An Open Letter to the Incredibly Stupid Girl in my Class:

Literally means that something actually happened. It does not mean the same thing as figuratively. Why do people not understand this small and easy point?

Today, and for the sake of anonymity of those who don’t know the English language, you stated - in class, no less - that “During the last election, Paul Martin and Stephen Harper literally tried to take each other’s kneecaps off.”

Holy crap!! Really?! How on Earth can people say politics is boring?! Where was I when THAT happened? All the news coverage I saw just focused on boring, political stuff, like debates over childcare and Canadian’s role as peacekeepers. This is almost as vicious as figure-skating. Harper apparently hired Tonya Harding as a political advisor. Obviously you follow the news much more closely then I do.

I didn’t realize that a WWE match had broken out, with Harper tag-teaming in The Rock to kick Martin, and an aging Hulk Hogan’s ass. I can just imagine Peter Mansbridge, in a cowboy hate and glitter, screaming into the mike “And now, ladies and gentlemen, wearing red, the Conservative Crippler… PAUUULLLL MARTINN!!!! Sadly, in his last match he broke a hip when trying to wrest control of the Liberal Party from Jean Chretien, who finished him with his signature ‘Golf Club to the Head’.”

Oh. Wait. That didn’t happen. Why? Because they FIGURATIVELY TOOK OFF EACH OTHER’S KNEECAPS you useless mass of organic matter!

If you’re unable to use words with more than one syllable correctly, I have for you a suggestion: don’t. Had you just said “During the last election, PM and SH tried to take each other’s kneecaps off” I would have figured out the pragmatics of the situation without having to resort to the semantics. But because you desperately included an extra word in a misguided and unfortunate attempt to sound intelligent, you made a moronic statement.

Believe me- the rest of the class already knows that you’re about as quick off the mark as a retarded ant. There’s no need to reinforce it. I would suggest shutting up and switching into sociology, where they probably applaud your attempt to craft syntactically gorgeous, but completely imbecile phrases, but that would mean suggesting you still belong in a place of higher learning.

Pass grade ten English, then come back and try again.

Sincerely,

Chris Rivers

Roses Are Red - Aqua

2006-08-31T12:49:00.000-03:00

Question mark.

Snakes on a Plane (Bring It) - Cobra Starship

2006-08-28T17:52:00.000-03:00

I hate to use the title of a song, titled after a movie (that was titled after a terrible idea for a film) - but, y'know, it's Snakes on a Plane. And the song's actually pretty decent... catchy, rhymey and filled with movie quotes. Including the famous one - "That's it! I have had it with these motherfuckin' snakes on this motherfuckin' plane!"

I think it'd be hard to explain in text how excited I was for this movie. I mean... it's not going to change my life, it's not going to be something that defines me as a person, and really, it's probably not even going to matter in about 6 months. But for now - and the forseeable future - snakes are THE word. I went online and bought the movie poster and had it shipped; my MSN name represented the glory of Sammy L.J.; and the film was decided to be one of the three things making me happiest right now (along with 'fire' and something else movie-ish related).

What can I say? I suggest going to see it. I mean... hey... yeah, for sequels there's "Snakes in a 1969 Citation Trailer" or "Snakes in a University Residence" or, to a degree, even "Snakes in a Business Degree". And those snakes are dangerous and tend to make you uncomfortable... but Samuel L. Jackson comes along and makes it all seem worthwhile.

Honestly... can you even FATHOM being on the board of executives who decided that this film was a GOOD, SELLABLE idea?! I can not. And yet... there we were. 5 of us, including a 14-year old who kept beating the crap out of me, yelling, cheering, clapping and screaming. Watching hte film was like winning an Olympic gold, only without the steroids or Wheaties deal. (Some of us did get a Kid'z Pak deal, however, which included buttered popcorn, a small Coke and some candy. Because I need something else to make my day.)

I can't recall the last time that I saw a movie in theatres and thought, regardless of who I'd been with, "That movie was so worth $7.70 plus all applicable taxes and a $13 small popcorn." Snakes on a Plane achieves that distinction. It was so delightfully awesome that upon its conclusion, I even determined that I would endeavour to somehow go back and see it at least once more in theatres.

You game?... and remember, "Time is tissue."

Batters Up - Nelly

2006-08-24T16:33:00.000-03:00

Yes. I'm related. To the black guy.

Back to basics and baseball this summer, as for some inexplicable reason - aside from good hearts (and they'd know) - biology let me patrol centre field and first base for them in the Acadia Softball League. I know what you're thinking... softball is to baseball is what a banjo is to Santana... just not quite what you want.

However... it was the thrill of simply playing again that made up for so much of it! I mean... my legs were ripped to shreds on a regular basis, I got to meet a bunch of great people and, every now and then, we managed a rally that fell just short.

My biggest problems, oddly enough for an soft toss league, was at bat. I made a habit of popping out to the catcher. At one point it's like I was swinging a bloody cricket bat - I just couldn't make contact, I couldn't hit the pitch, and when I did, it was either a bloody little nubber or, my old stand-by, an infield pop-up. I would have felt worse about it... but Cody was even better at it then I was.

One of the best moments came when us outfielders began to slowly creep towards the infield because of a FAB (Female At-Bat). However, when we spotted the batter we reversed our trend and quickly. Nadia can just crush one, and even though she gave it more juice then Tropicana, I was there to catch her liner. Of course, a few got past us... but you never forget the ones you grab.

Best comeback was when we were playing, actually, Nadia's team and were down by, like, 5 or 6 heading into the final inning. Sure enough, we turned in on, and pumped in enough runs to...

Lose by one.

Whatever. Baseball was back, and once I got the ball into the field (instead of towards the effin' catcher) I was playing again and enjoying the game.

Summer - Vivaldi

2006-08-17T10:03:00.000-03:00

Diving in head first - or, if I don't get my legs around, slapping into the water back first - was pretty well the M.O. of this summer. Let's see what kind of examples I can dig up and squirrel into the title, shall we, while providing a convienient grade for myself. Feel free to follow along and provide grades yourself.

Thesis - A- One chapter finished and successful. One chapter due the 27th of August which will also meet those requirements. I have also managed to successfully include Eddie Izzard and Terry Pratchett quotes. It's a good thing that human rights is such an easy topic that no one takes TOO seriously... wait a minute... my thesis advisor is on the line.

SSS - D+ Hmmm... hard to get a mark on. There's no doubt that the 'sober' aspect failed miserably. I mean, have you ever even heard of George St.? Staying sober there is harder than cutting through diamond with a marhsmallow. On the other hand, that first 'S' ended up being adhered to rather closely, post-May or so, depending on definitions. I would say average at best. Though, yet again, it appears that even that first 'S' may have some difficulty. Okay - too many variables, I sucked at SSS.

Travel - A I mean, how can I not like hitchhiking for the first time, all through Newfoundland? One guy gave me a lift from Gander all the way down to St. John's (4 hour ride, for those playing the home game), and I managed to not get shot while walking through Shea Heights towards Cape Spear. Aylesford Lake, the Gaspereau Winery, Huntsville ON and a trip to the 'Fax round out the list. None too shabby.

Healthiness - B This question is like Colbert's truthiness... a question of exactly how much honesty is about to come forward. I started out well on my bike, racking up significant kilometerage, then declined as mornings became too... morning-y. While in NS I generally ate well and exercized lots... Lost about 30 pounds. Then stupid Newfoundland and its stupid fried food came along... and I ballooned back up another 10, which is where I still sit. Roughly. Eating better, though, and exercizing more are definite themes of the summer, so a decent mark.

Quest for True Love, Happiness and the Secret to Eternal Youth - A Wouldn't you like to know?

Hmm... summer gets a good rating overall. And the best part is, with Colin on his way back tonight and things looking up with another new friend, summer's rating can only go up from here.

Farwell to Nova Scotia - Irish Rovers

2006-07-20T01:10:00.000-03:00

And he's off.

Checklist:

Catch Bus
Catch Plane
Order warm-up drink
Spill warm-up drink. Just like the last time I flew WestJet.
Arrive at Debate Tournament
Remember to prepare cases for debate tournament
Win Debate Tournament
Catch Bus
Impress Cricket's parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles
Impress Cricket
Mentally and permanently tell Norway to go to hell.
Realize I forgot any/all of: gifts, bathing suit, razor (like I need it...), reading material
Catch Bus, convince driver to stop on side of road
Remember that printed pictures of Wilfred Laurier or Sir John A. help in convincing
Help Solve Maritime Fish Crisis
Worsen Fish Crisis, via stomach/mouth
Get lost in Terra Nova
Take helicopter ride with annoyed looking people from Newfoundland Wilderness Rescue Team
Visit George St.
Try to remember first language, own name, why am cuddling police helmet
Catch plane
Press 'Next' on CD player - listen to "Home for a Rest" - Spirit of the West

Redneck Yacht Club - Craig Morgan

2006-07-17T00:33:00.000-03:00

The Breneman works at Aylesford Lake Yacht Club, home of a number of moderately sea-worthy vessels, a scarlet Zodiac known as 'The Red' (which Ian is often in) and also some of the most enjoyable sailing types I've seen. I know what you're thinking... letting me loose at a yacht club is like inviting Korn to play the Queen's Silver Jubilee. And if you were actually thinking that... seriously, what's wrong with you? You think like me. Let's go have a drink.

Ian's existence, to begin said redneck theme, is in a trailer from 1969 - coincedentally, the last time that it was cleaned. (Zing). It's roughly equivalent to the Chateau Frontenac, in terms of comfort and amneties - if the Chateau Frontenac was found in central-Alabama, and had been stripped down for parts and turned into a camper. There are three seperate 'rooms' - all located in one room. The 'Honeymoon Suite' - a square table-cum-bed that forces the sleeper into diagonals; the 'Loft' - a glorified clothing shelf that gives the sleeper roughly 3 inches of space betwixt nose and roof; and the 'Master Bedroom' - Ian's bed, which actually has nothing too funny that can be said about it.

Such is the glory of the Yacht Club that they have lost the rudder on the 'pride of their fleet'. However - you couldn't find a nicer or more obliging group of people. The Commodore - Steve - is a gregarious sort, and only reacted somewhat strangely when I referred to Ian by his naval rank (Admiral, of course - I have recently been promoted by said Admiral to Lt. Commander). There was many people up for a game of washer toss (the metal rings... not the appliances... though the latter would have seemed possible had Ian poured me another r&c), most of whom tried to biff the discs at me at one point or another. And most of whom may have come up to about my knee, and had an age equivalent to my hat size.

Also: there were tiki torches. Steve says they were to keep away the bugs, but we all know the truth. They just wanted tiki torches. And I'm pretty okay with that.

We stayed up around a fire until 3:30 am, chatting with the Commodore and his wife, before turning in at Chateau Breneman. Yay for the lake.

The next morning, at... oh... 9:00 or so, I was awoken by Ian so we could go watch Marshall the Safety Guy do his safety demo. He was... enthusiastic, demanding that people create a "culture of safety" and pointing out that one can't save lives... they can just extend them. With Army fatigues and some combat boots he could have passed for the sarge from Full Metal Jacket... only slightly less profane, and without the clever japery.

ALYC = At Least You Came... and didn't drown, get carried off by bugs, or killed by a rogue washer. That's just the kinda place it is. Seemed pretty close to normal, t'me.

One Heart - CJ '97 Theme Song

2006-07-13T01:02:00.000-03:00

I've been going through rafts of photos and newsletters from Guiding Mosaic '06, held in Guelph, Ontario - very near where I went to high school. It really, really makes me miss my Canadian Jamboree experiences. In 1997, in Thunder Bay, and 2001 in PEI, I was lucky enough to get to go to Canada's largest Scout Camp, first as a Scout, then as a Scouter. Now, Cricket's off gallivanting about Guelph doing what, as far as I can tell, is the Guiding equivalent.

I've noticed a few key differences, here and there, however. First of all, the girls at GM06 appear to be much more colour-coordinated then us lads ever were. They've got colour-coded hats by subcamp. We were lucky if our kids remembered there was a subcamp.
Second, GM06 has freaky mascots. Polar bears, apparently stricken with dance fever, surround the site, adding an eerie, carniverous touch to Guelph that's normally only filled by roaming U of G students. At CJs both 97 and 01, I recall a grand total of 0 mascots... except for that little racoon thing that's at every single one and haunts our dreams. Huh... maybe it is the same.
Thirdly, Girl Guides trades crests too! I can just see how this will lend itself to creating the utmost of awesome.

This has all encouraged me to get my ass to CJ 07 - in Quebec!! Now it's just time to find a troop to work with again. Man, I miss Scouting.

Alcohol - Barenaked Ladies

2006-07-12T16:23:00.000-03:00

As surely as Orpheus descended into the depths of hell to recover his wife, so too have I descended, at long last, into the intoxicating wonders of alcohol. Up until, oh, the first week of September 2005, I'd had fewer alcoholic experiences than fingers on a clumsy butcher. Then I met Colin Hoult. But first, a Reader's Digest version of the preceeding 20 years.

August, 1999 - First drink, a Labatt Blue at a staff party for Jester's Restraunt. I was 14 or so at the time, and the rest of the kitchen staff had determined to get me drunk, high and laid. They managed to get me to drink one beer. I believe this constitutes as utter failure on their part.

November, 2002 - First shot, a double of 151 straight, without a chaser. I was at Mike Polla's birthday party, and decided that, really, what harm could one drink do? There's a video of it circulating somewhere of me taking it, putting it back, and standing there waiting for something to happen while Dubes, the guy taking one with me, choked back tears and Valkyrie screams.

October, 2003 - Inititation for 7th floor, where I completed a beer century of 100 beer shots in 100 minutes. This was the first time (age 18, now) I experienced any kind of intoxication, and became - in short - an inverted pendulem. My then-girlfriend put me to bed, gave me hell and threatened to not talk to me if I drank again.

January, 2004 - Montreal, for the Model UN trip. What a shock that it was in Montreal that alcohol should flow freely. Here I discovered the joys of Tartan's Special Scottish Ale (still one of the all-time bests), the problems of temptation and the joys of having a good friend who can keep an eye on you.

July 2004 - My cottage. Alone. I found I made Dean's List, so poured a vodka-OJ to celebrate. Having had only a handful of alcoholic experiences to this point, perhaps unsurprising I didn't realize that 50/50 is not a great mix. Nevertheless... managed to find the upstairs of my cottage at some point, after brief voyage to boathouse and confusion over why there was water in my 'room'.

November 2004 - Recieved essay back from Comparative Politics, and was devastated by the mark. In truly mature fashion, decide that best possible response is to have 5 drinks in 1.5 hours... at 1:30 in the afternoon... they go to class... and proceed to give prof hell. Lucky to have not been expelled.

Now... here and there had been the other occasional drinks... a wine and cheese night here, a Guinnes with Ieener there... but the proverbial floodgates opened when I met Colin D. Hoult. The lad, upon hearing that I didn't drink much, decided to put his foot down.

Since then I have experienced what occurs when you attempt to finish 3 chocolate martinis in under 10 minutes, then run home... wherever the hell home may be. I have experienced what occurs when you wish to use a fork as an analogy to relationships. I have experienced what occurs when your bankbook cries blood and says "Please, God, no more!!"
Typical exchange, post-transformation:

Concerned friend: Why are you guys drinking tonight?
Rivers and Colin: It's the last Tuesday of the week!

or, for example,

Rivers: "What's the largest beer you sell?"
Waiter: "Uhhh... 60 ounces."
Rivers: "Perfect! I'll take one!"
Waiter: "Uhhh... normally we call that a 'pitcher'. Should I bring you a glass?"
Rivers: "Nope!"

When I began to worry about who to thank in the acknowledgements section of my thesis, the fact that Paddy's, the Library Pub and Alexander Keith all were in the top 5 was, perhaps, a greater worry.

However. So far, since my liver appears to be adapting, Darwinian like to the rigours its been put through, and George St. calls, I think it's probably for the best that Colin wasn't around this summer to keep my life difficult.

Oh. Wait. Hi Karl. Never mind.

Cheers.

Your Song - Elton John

2006-07-10T11:46:00.000-03:00

I continue my Ezmy pilfering ways, and since I just lurrrvvv to talk about music - see my blog post titles - I was on this like ugly on a moose. Also, stay tuned, for a special "Upcoming Features" trailer at the end.

NAME UP TO THREE:

Song(s) That I Loathe to the Core of My Being
Perfect - Simple Plan
Banana Pancakes - Jack Johnson
Come What May - Moulin Rouge Soundtrack

Musical Artist(s) That I Loathe to the Core of My Being
Britney Spears
Jennifer Lopez
Jessica Simpson (though 'Musical' is a stretch)

Rolling Stones Song(s) I Love
Blinded by Rainbows
Start Me Up
Wild Horses

Beatles Song(s) I Love
Let it Be
Come Together
Magical Mystery Tour

Country Song(s) I Love
What Hurts the Most - Rascal Flatts
BBQ Stain - Tim McGraw
What a Beautiful Day - Chris Cagle

Movie Soundtrack(s) I Love
Shrek 2
The Wedding Singer
Muppet Treasure Island

Musical Sountrack(s) I Love
RENT
Moulin Rouge (it's a musical, right? Some debate. It fits here.)
Les Miserables

Cover Song(s) I Love
I'm Raving - Scooter
True Colours - Fredro Starr ft. Jill Scott
Big Yellow Taxi - Counting Crows

Contemporary Top-40 Artist(s) I Secretly Love
I am fairly certain I can name no current top-40 artists, forget ones I secretly love.

Song(s) That Bring Me to Tears
Blinded by Rainbows - Rolling Stones
Norwegian Wood (This Bird has Flown) - Beatles
Come What May - Moulin Rouge

Song(s) That Make Me Shake My Ass
What a disturbing mental image...
A Little Less Conversation - Elvis Presley
Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) - Big and Rich
I2I - Powerline

Rap/Hip-Hop Song(s) I Love
Yeah - Usher ft. Ludicrious and Lil John
Get Low - Lil John ft. Ying Yang Twins
Country Grammer - Nelly

70s Disco Song(s) I Love
I must admit that I can't tell the difference between disco and non-disco.

70s Song(s) I Love
Or what decade a song came out in. Thanks Wikipedia!
Fat Bottomed Girls - Queen
Baba O'Reilly (Teenage Wasteland) - The Who
Hand me Down World - Guess Who

80s Song(s) I Love
Walking on Broken Glass - Annie Lennox
Rock you like a Hurricane - Scorpions
We Didn't Start the Fire - Billy Joel

90s Song(s) I Love
Black or White - Michael Jackson
Peaches - Presidents of the United States of America
Cotton Eye Joe - Rednex

00s Song(s) I Love
You're the Only One - Maria Mena
Hide and Seek - Imogen Heap
This Year's Love - David Grey

Song(s) To Have Sex To
What an intriguing question...
You're a Superstar - Love, Inc.
Don't Stop me Now - Queen
Good Lovin' - Rascals
Now those are titles that certainly lend themselves to the topic, even if the songs may be a bit eclectic.

As for the promised preview...

*movie voice* 1999. It appeared for one day. It then returned to the depths it came from. 6 years passed. Like the Kraken of mythology, it lay dormant. Waiting. Waiting. Until one day...
*cue dramatic music* In Wolfville, Nova Scotia, led by a crack team including Colin Hoult, Chris Rivers and The Library Pub, it returned to the light of day.

Alcohol (Barenaked Ladies) - Coming Soon.

On My Own - Les Miserables

2006-07-06T22:16:00.000-03:00

Things I've learned since moving off-campus...

1) When you happen to mention in passing that your favourite flowers are tigerlillies, they start blooming in front of your door. This requires no effort, no planting, no watering, weeding, pruning or fertilization. They just appear. True story.
1b) Those aren't tigerlillies. They're daylillies.

2) Garlic powder, oregano, basil and cayenne pepper basically cover off all possible food dishes. I've used them to flavour sandwiches, pastas, roasted mushrooms, potato salad, chicken breast, fish and roast potatos. So far. Great potato salad? Yukon gold, celery, dill pickle, hard boiled egg, cayenne, basil, garlic, mayo and honey mustards.

3) Laundry very rarely disappears if you ignore it and shove it a bag. I've also learned that towels need to be washed very often, despite the fact they're primarily used on clean people. This is an unexplained mystery paralelled only by that of Keith Richards' continuing life.

4) Bugs. Are. The. Devil. And when attempting to combat them, placing the ant-trap on a wall so they can't climb in is probably not the most effective of solutions.

5) It's exactly 1.03 km from my front door to the entrance of the BAC.

6) Dirty dishes can reproduce and multiply amoeba-like, whereas clean ones are actually undergoing a constant Darwinian process in the cupboard. Through careful observation, I've noticed the strongest plates and mugs team up and devour the side plates and juice glasses, ensuring that there are NEVER any available when I have a guest over.

7) The best way to ensure you well is to never, ever allow yourself to buy anything that looks like it may take less than 4 minutes to prepare. I have no food in my house. Only ingrediants.

8) Sometimes when one hears an insect buzzing 3 inches from one's ear, and yet can't see it, it's better not to assume it's a hornet hell-bent on killing you, and that the best course of action is to dive off your computer chair, through your lamp, into a barrel roll and come up swinging a piece of dowling while emitting a shriek of the pitch normally reserved for calling dogs. It's hard to look tough that way. And it sometimes turns out to be just a June Bug, which is about as threatening as a Swiffer.

9) Unlike residence, the odds are I won't be woken up by someone at 3am, while they attempt to paddle a kayak down the hall.

10) Regardless of above sentiment, it is actually possible to want to be up at 3am talking to someone. Every night. For 2 months. And then be completely unable to revert to any kind of sleep normalcy when they leave.

Irish Pub Song - Flogging Molly

2006-07-06T00:47:00.000-03:00

There they are, folks: the first three members of the public to enter Paddy's when it re-opened. Rivers, Karl and Colin K. crossed the threshold, paused for a photo to be taken by the wife of the owner, and then plumped down at the bar at 1:40pm. I ordered a pint of Raven Ale, and tasted my beer again. First pint drawn to the public at the new Paddy's - and it was this guy. Hey Hoult... I already know you're proud.

Paddy's Brewpub - it's been a long, hard winter. To quote Rascall Flatts, "It's hard to deal with the pain of losing you, but I'm doing it."

Well - no more.

On January 25th, owing to an 'electrical fire' that started in the kitchen, the home of so many Wolfville memories, so many good dinners and so many dollars spent, was gutted. Students, of course, immediately blamed Joe. I stood outside in the bitter air, surrounded by friends, all of us staring in dismay. I was going to be late for Political Philosophy... but thankfully my professor also had stopped to watch the best place in town go slowly to ground.

23 weeks to the day after the blaze, we were back on the stools, and it was as though I hadn't skipped a beat. A quick shout-out to the Library Pub - you were an admirable stand-in, and have shouldered your way onto my list for all time. But Paddy's... you're the place where I feel the most comfortable, and it's good to have you back.

Now Wolfville is almost perfect. All I need is Cricket and Colin, and I'm set to go.

Welcome back, Ravel Ale. Welcome back, AVA. Welcome back sweet potato fries.

Welcome back, Paddy's Pub.

Ice Ice Baby - Vanilla Ice

2006-07-02T18:37:00.000-03:00

It's perhaps more than a little bit funny that at Acadia University, a school I genuinely love, my computer has been reduced to this: like a kid who just sprained an ankle, my Dell Latitude D600 needs an ice pack.

I wish I was kidding. I'm not.

The hard drive, for whatever reason, overheats dramatically. Usually, in a temperature controlled building, this isn't the end of the world. However in my occasionally stifling house, it's just too much for my poor computer, who was on the verge of passing out.

Two ice-cubes and a Ziploc bag have legimately solved the problem. Why do I feel that this isn't the kind of story that the Acadia Advantage is supposed to spawn?

In other news: Canada Day in the 'Fax with Ieener and Jackson was amazing, Ian's cousin 'Constable Responsible' was a gracious and welcoming host, and the fireworks were great. If that bastard Murphy just hadn't put his landing right in front of them, we'd have had a great view.

Happy Canada Day, all, albeit a bit belated, and thanks to the Fern who helped me with my only spontaneous 'O Canada' - but in French, so that's okay.

Feuer Frei - Rammstein

2006-06-30T14:58:00.000-03:00

You'd think I'd have learned this a long time ago. Germany can be seriously mean when they want to. If that World War II thing didn't tip me off, then the German cannibal guy should have. And if all that failed, I maybe shoulda just checked my personal history - with regards to my worst two marks at Acadia.

For those who don't speak German, the only language that can make 'butterfly' sound like a sub-machine gun ('Schmetterling'), the song title means "Fire Free", or "Fire at Will". After burying all 4 penalty kicks they had to take, the Germans certainly had all guns a-blazing against my Argentines. The real firing is going to have to take place for the baby-blue-and-white though, since the coach's decision to pull Crespo AND Riquelme was, oh... what's the word... fichen lächerlich.

Now to look for the positives. First, I used to be a Germany fan. So, really, if it had to happen, Germany's not a bad team to do it. Second, when I (theoretically) search for articles and use the words "Argentina", "struggle" and "failure", I now will get tonnes of awesome football articles to distract me. Third, I can retire my Argentina t-shirt back to the wall, where - really - it looks very good.

Now to choose who to cheer for next... umm.... Germany? Ukraine? England? Ugh. I should probably just stick to Cricket.

Germany it is. Deutchland uber alles.

EDIT: Sports Illustrated is reporting that the Argentine coach stepped down following the game. What. A. Shocker.

ABC, 123 - The Jackson 5

2006-06-25T01:29:00.000-03:00

Counting my blessings? How Catholic of me.
Gone from "What I Got" to my A B C.
This alphabet pile may seem thrown together
But it's got it all, friends, sports, food, weather.

A's Ange and Ali, could there be any doubt?
They're simply quite tops, day in and day out.

B is for baseball, bananas and bikes.
One watching, one eating, one my fitness likes.

C is for Cricket, not the sport or the bugs,
But rather the one who eschews lame e-hugs.

D is for disc, both compact and plastic,
Givin' great tunes and catches fantastic.

E is for Edmonton, thanks to the Oilers.
(Damn you Cam Ward, and Carolina dream spoilers)

F is for futbol, let's go Argentina!
Once you guys beat Germany, I'll laugh like a hyena.

G is for grants, there's simply the best.
At the office at nine? Forget it! More rest...

H is for Hoult, who's probably pissed
That he got beaten by Cricket for 'C' on this list.

I is for ice cream, oh wait, I lie.
Im lactose intolerant. Thanks for nothing, Big Guy.

J is for Jackson and jumping in rain,
She sings better, bikes faster and picks on my brain.

K's for kilometers, three thirty-seven.
The pounds theoretically fall like manna from heaven.

L is for Leah, Pink Princess Sarcastic.
I'm also her bitch in matters scholastic.

M's for MacDonald, or maybe just Matt.
He does the dishes. What up with THAT?

N's for Newfoundland, and b'y am I PUMPED?
Grand Falls, then sea squalls, then on George Street slumped.

O is for... office? The one Poli Sci?
It has no windows so we can't jump out and die.

P is for pubs, both Library and Paddy.
Also to Pyrcz, my thesis sugar-daddy.

Q is for queues, the ones filled with killers.
(Really I'm just using some Izzard for filler)

R is for RUM! The coconut kind!
Drink it straight, or with Coke, any way you can find.

S is for squash, and as one suspects,
it's also for sleeping. Just sleeping. Not sex.

T is for Toronto! Home of the Jays!
Not to mention high levels of cancerous UV rays!

U is for useless, cuz' really, this letter?
Nothing to contribute. Bread mould could do better.

V is for variables, like those that I'd have found
For my effing thesis, if I got it off the ground.

W's Westjet, world's best coroporation.
Free flights? Comfy chairs? Newfie vacation!

X is for excess, the stuff I get free!
Senate gives cookies, and Eastlink TV!

Y is for yachts, taught by Admiral Ian,
Who counselled "Yes drinking, No European!"

Z is the last one, and it goes to Zzzzz.
None of which I get, since I stay up past 3.

Well that's all he wrote, and it's time for bed.
Though that was my goal before rhymes filled my head.
So now there's an update, you've all recieved mention.
Now please excuse me: dreams need my attention.

Me Like Hockey - Arrogant Worms

2006-06-20T13:20:00.000-03:00

I'm disappointed that Edmonton didn't win. They would have been only the 2nd team in NHL history to win the Cup with no players on their team having won before. (The other was the 1980 NY Islanders).

However: I can't be mad at Carolina for bringing it home, in the same way I couldn't be mad at Tampa Bay. Look at Rod Brind'Amour right there. That guy has been in the NHL 17 seasons, 6 of them with Carolina. That's his first Cup. Watching the video of this Canadian warrior raising the Cup and then pumping the 36.8 pound trophy while screaming out pure, wordless euphoria.

Kevyn Adams? Former Leaf, well done there. Cam Ward? Rookie goaltender who was brilliant at times and has been declared either a cyborg or a pure robot. Well done indeed. Glen Wesley? The last Hartford Whaler left to see the day and still be playing? 18 years - and he gets to raise it.

What I'm saying is simple: hockey's the greatest sport in the world, and when it comes down to it in the end, as hard as it is to see the Cup play second fiddle to Nascar, for the players on the Hurricanes, it means exactly what it should... one hell of a lot.

Well done, Carolina Hurricanes.
Edmonton, thanks for the ride.

What I Got - Sublime

2006-06-19T13:28:00.000-03:00

What do I got? Aside from atrocious grammar?

I got the best friends I've ever had.
I got the best family I've ever heard of.
I got the best reason to stay up until 3am I could've ever imagined.
I got the best summer of my life so far and planned, besting even Australia.
I got very little done on my thesis.
I got the best health routine I've had in a while (please take no note of food at hockey games).
I got sports worth watching.
I got a neighbour who makes me happier every single bloody day.
I got a brother who's proving to be keen on sports as I am.
I got a roommate I get along with who does dishes.
I got profs who give a damn.
I got good food every Thursday and whenever red peppers are on sale.
I got new music that I like listening to.
I got to shave today.
I got a mom who both likes being called and I like calling.
I got Dean's List, baby.
I got a 6-5 record in Scrabble, a 2-1 record in chess and a 1-0 record in Stratego.
I got my ass kicked in Cribbage. A lot.
I got an awesome sister who's keeping the Rivers record of spirit alive and well.
I got another awesome sister who hasn't stopped making me laugh in ages.
I got disc to chase, lakes to swim, roads to bike, squash to play.
I got Ian back, Angela for the summer, Colin for e-drinking.
I got a dad who's finally going to take some time off.
I got someone I'm happy waiting for.
I got me.
I got life.
I got a HUGE sentimental streak.
I got to do some fucking work...

Seven Days - Craig David

2006-06-18T00:41:00.000-03:00

Well... we're back to Raleigh for Game 7 of the Cup Finals.

Ian and I, having watched Edmonton squeeze out victory in game five, decided to follow as much of the same routine as we could for game six. First was to the liquor store to be the right kind of beverage for the evening: A Rickard's Tasters 12-pack, with free glass.

Next step was ensuring that we were both wearing out jerseys, and that the 3rd 'spare' jersey was displayed on the same table in the corner. Broadcast starts, I had to sing the American anthem but not the Canadian one, and make sure I didn't have anything to drink during the anthems.

Then, once the game began, we each had to have the same kind of beer we'd had to start the last game. For him, Rickard's Pale, for I, Rickard's Red. Then, once those had been finished, it was the same ones for each of us next. To him, the Honey Brown. To I, a Pale. Then complete the trifecta in the 3rd - to him a Red, to I a Honey Brown.

Bizarre? Edmonton wins 4-0. Jussi gets his first shutout, game seven is nigh, and if you think Ian and I are drinking anything other than Rickard's in that order on Monday evening, you're bat-crazy.

Calling You - Aqua

2006-06-16T12:35:00.000-03:00

Hm. The last time I was able to hold a conversation on the phone that went more than two hours was to Mastercard, when roughly 1 hour and 58 minutes of that was spent listening to a tape of how to increase my credit limit, Mozart's finest and occasional crackles as a person picked up the phone, heard I was still there, and simply pressed 'HOLD' out of panic at having to perhaps deal with a live client.

So that may not count.

Man... am I glad that I have unlimited long distance in this hosue.

Into the West - Annie Lennox

2006-06-15T01:13:00.001-03:00

Fernando Pisani - Little Italy, as I've nicknamed him - has given hope to all of us Canadian hockey fans who want to see Lord Stanley's mug NOT reside in a state more dedicated to Nascar and hush puppies than Zambonis and rink rats. In overtime, with Steve Staios in the box, Pisani picked off an errant Eric Staal pass and raced in, before lasering a shot over Ward's glove into the far upper corner. Game, Edmonton. 4-3. Ensue pandemonium.

I don't know what it is about things from Alberta... Having Ieener here is, obviously, the height of the awesome. Having Edmonton win another game to keep the hopes alive is, obviously, awesome. Having Cricket to look forward to in July and August on is, obviously, awesome. Having lots of money, wealth, power and Conservatism... do I really need to say it? Awesome.

And Colin's out there too.

In short, my toasts lately have been "To all things Albertan" and I beg all the reasons for such to continue. Let's go Oil!!

EDIT: Ecuador!! 3-0! Let's go Argentina... you're up next!

A Night in Dildo - The Arrogant Worms

2006-06-13T00:46:00.000-03:00

My normal strategy for choosing a picture to match my song title/post theme/whatever is to type in a couple of the key words into Google Image search. This I was not going to do this time, for a simple discussion of... my God... I can't even write the word... A simple discussion of battery-operated female pleasure enhancers sent me skittering out of the PoliSci office to the (apparently) neverending amusement of Ms.'s Grimmer and Livingstone.

In any case... Instead of Argentina or Australia... my two 9-letter A___a options that I'd originally considered this summer, I'm going to be hitting up the tropical island of Newfoundland. I mean, hey, Newfoundland is reknowned for their love of Ontarians... and their gorgeous, sun-splashed afternoons... and their, y'know, culture and stuff. On the other hand, they are holding onto Labrador just to piss of Quebec and that I can idenfity with.

So the plan is to combine many of the things I enjoy the most in one trip of uber-awesome: arguing, short streets named after British kings, recreating that Perfect Storm movie, only while counting fish, sports named after insects and being in the middle of nowhere. (For those keeping score at home, in chronological order: debate tournament, George St. Festival, marine biology field work on a boat, Cricket and ... being in the middle of nowhere - Grand Falls pretty well qualifies.)

So... from some time in late mid-July to pretty well the end of the month, I'm going to be feasting on salt cod... wait. I'm just getting a memo... scratch the cod. I'm going to be enjoying fine, strong, Newfoundland rum... wait. Im just getting a memo... scratch the enjoyment. Well... in any case. Newfoundland, Canada's greatest province, she awaits! Only an estimated 36 days left until I land! Woot!

Oh! Quick shout-outs: Argentina, Australia, Czechs, Ecuador - good wins. Trinidad and Tobago, nice tie. Angola - can't you even FIND the other end of the pitch?

When I'm Up I Can't Get Down - Great Big Sea

2006-06-09T18:53:00.000-03:00

Today? Great day. GREAT day. Amazing day. I'm-so-pumped-I-can-fly kind of day.

First of all, I succesfully did something technical. I installed the odometer on my bike correctly. I can now trace distance with accuracy, calories burned and other exciting things. This contrasts nicely with when I tried to create my bookshelf unit, and of the 7 different incorrect ways to put it together, I did SIX of them before stumbling onto the one correct way. Truly, my education is becoming complete. The best line about the shelving, according to my mom, was when I muttered "This thing was designed for chimps, and I STILL can't do it."

So follow that up with heading into work - in theory - where I quickly depart for lunch. Not only is lunch bought for me (Thanks Ange!) but my best friend from first year, and one of the guys who's responsible for keeping me a happy person, Ian Breneman is IN Subway! He's now here for the summer. That ALONE would have made for a helluva day. The picture is of us in Montreal in first year... we both have more hair now. His on his chin, mine sprouting from my brain case.

But is that the end? Oh hells no! Next step: post office. TWO PACKAGES! This is Christmas, birthday, Hannukah and National Day of the Potato all rolled into one. The first package is a t-shirt and congrats card from my family, allowing me to be decked out in style for the World Cup (Viva Argentina! And Ole Angola!) . 2nd package is one of two eBay videos I bought, the highlights tape from the 1992 World Series. I just watched it, and fell back in love with the Jays teams of the early 90s allll ovvverr again.

Then, after the video, I log onto the net and international sports take over. WorldCup? 2-0 Ecuador over Poland! Germany wins 4-2! Both teams I ostensibly like win. I must admit... every year as the World Cup draws around, Toronto completely falls for the sports of the wall: soccer, cricket, biking... whatever. It all becomes part of it.

Finally, to wrap it all up in a nice Pink (Aerosmith) bow, I'm off to the Library Pub for dinner with Ange, Leah and Dave to celebrate/commiserate thesising. Woohoo for first drinks since... man... since Ange's friendy Aynsley was here. Ange really IS the female Colin.

In summary: bike computer, Ieener, TWO packages, soccer and cricket and dinner out. Yee. Freakin' Haw!

Santa Claus is Coming to Town - Traditional

2006-06-07T00:18:00.000-03:00

Santa: Ho Ho Ho, boys and girls! And what do you want for Christmas?
Stupid Kid: Santa... Why are there THREE of you?
Santa: *long silence* Do you want anything for Christmas BESIDES being put through a plate glass window?
Stupid Kid: ... umm... I'd like the Oilers to win the Cup?
Santa: Perhaps.
Stupid Kid: I'd like a Jays victory?
Santa: Easy enough. They ARE playing Baltimore... how does 6-4 sound?
Stupid Kid: Sure. And... 3rd wish for the 3rd Santa...
Santa: (to himself... Greedy little bastard, ain't he?)
Stupid Kid: Peace and love for all?
Santa: *surprised* Sure.
Stupid Kid: And me in specific?
Santa: We'll see.

How Funky is your Chicken? - The Jackson 5

2006-06-06T17:36:00.000-03:00

As part of my never-ending quest to develop a stomach that would make David Hasselhoff jealous instead of David Wells, I've been moving towards a healthier regimen. This has included biking (170km so far, well below the respectable total of 330 posted by Crick), squash (I sit at 2-0 against Kevin) and tennis (I sit at 0-3 against Kenny).

Next step is cutting out the cheeseburgers. I have to admit... ground meats that contain no named part of the animal and make most vegetarians near suicidal are my cocaine. Only with more harmful side effects. So say good-bye to those delicious burgers with the processed cheesefood filling... au revoir Mr. Johnsville and your delightful honey garlic bratwurst... toodles to the charming No-Name pizza pockets that contain meat-like items.

Instead, it's the discount produce section - $7.26 for 16oz of button mushrooms, 1 green pepper, 1 red pepper, 8 plum tomatoes, 6 apples, 1 green Tomato that I thought was a Granny Smith apple and some funky lettuce-wrap crossbreed dealies - and hello boneless, skinless chicken breasts. Dinner tonight was baked chicken with diced tomato wrapped in lettuce and drizzled with a bit of Ranch dressing, along with some sliced tomato. And a banana for dessert.

Next step: 16km round trip bike to New Minas, another attempt at 8 Minute Abs - long live 80s spandex-clad instructers - and then a nice collapse into bed so Im ready for my 6am bike ride tomorrow.

Oh? And my thesis? That little thing that SHOULD be my focus? Meh.... maybe later.

EDIT: That chicken picture freaks the ever-loving crap out of me. Im keeping it up out of fear that if I don't, I may incur it's wrath.

Bittersweet Dirt off your Shoulder - Jay-Z & The Verve

2006-06-05T08:09:00.000-03:00

After I unleashed a profanity laced tirade at the administration that was triggered by, among other things, the expected delay in the posting of the Dean's List... they posted it at precisely midnight on the 31st of May/1st of June juncture. This means I owe them a grudging, but fair, apology. So administration - you have been granted a stay of execution. Well played.

And for those keeping score at home, did I make the Dean's List? Hells. Yes.

And I've also discovered the greatest song trend in the history of the universe. This makes the Beatles look like the Bangles and ABBA like Aqua. It's called 'mash-ups'.

I'm sure that 90% of you (so... what, 5 people) have heard of these before. I, on the other hand, have not. Effectively, take two songs - often of different styles - and mix them together. It's like a remix or a sample in many cases, but sometimes they blend the lyrics as well and it makes for d*mn fine listening. Examples:

Nelly and Lynard Skynyrd: Sweet Home Country Grammar
Missy Elliott and George Michales: Get Ur Faith On
Green Day, Oasis and Aerosmith: Boulevard of Broken Songs (w/ Wonderwall and Dream On)
Nelly and Green Day: Country Basket
Jay-Z and The Verve: Bittersweet Dirt off your Shoulder

Oh: And (18km biking + morning illness + apple juice)/Nicole being fast on a bike = Ugh. Go Math.

Let the Rain Come Down - Hilary Duff

2006-06-04T14:59:00.000-03:00

First, The Shawshank Redemption is an awesome movie, and the second I thought of my title, I knew exactly what image I wanted to accompany it.

Second - courtesy of allergies, Cricket and general mental distraction I was still up at around 3:30 this morning. Ergo, when Jackson banged on my door at 11:45 or so this 'morning', I was still out like a light. Once I'd attempted the cunning tactic of nervously saying 'Hello' and looking longingly at my length of wooden dowling to scare off who/whatever wanted me, I realized it wasn't actually a demon coming to collect.

It was only slightly more bizarre.

Jackson was keen on being out in the rain, so I threw on my swim trunks and a tshirt and we wandered up - through the only slightly less than torrential downpour - to the resevoir to go swimming in full clothing. She had on a long-sleeved sweater, long pants and shoes. I was more intelligently(ish) dressed in the aforemention plus sandals and my emo glasses. We even swang by Angela's on the way back to say hi, but she was out. Psssh... how dare she have a life.

So now that the rain has come down and washed out most of the worries that were wandering around, I'm feeling clean and happy. Not quite at the same freedom-induced-euphoria level of my good buddy Andy up there, but happy nonetheless.

Rip it Up - Little Richard

2006-06-02T00:20:00.000-03:00

And now for something entirely different:

Dear Acadia University;

You're a good school. I like you. I enjoy the profs that I've had; I enjoy the Dell laptops, even though most don't; I enjoyed the residence experience; for God's sake, I even looked forward to going to Meal Hall.

I am about to declare utter war on the administration.

First, your salaries. They've bagged more zeroes than an ugly football player at the Vil on a Friday night. For the most part, the administration at this school appears to have the same function as the Canadian Senate: justifying their own existence.

Secondly, the so-called 'Strategic Plan' - where the only strategy that appears to have been imposed is to embitter faculty and create imaginary 'centres', with no real explanation of exactly what they add to our campus.

Third, the moronic ideas about 'community values' that are taking away from real academia may impress the same idiots who think that moving to Fair Trade Coffee and having gas-giant and enviro-villian Irving build us an Environmental Science Centre makes us forward-thinking and community-friendly, when really all it means is that we get a huge building with leather freaking chairs and can charge an extra 50 cents for hot caffiene.

Fourth, increased and continued inefficiency! I understand that there's about to be a new position hired to have primary responsibility for the leadership and management of the residence life programme". Holy hellfuck, its almost like James Sanford's job! Oh! Wait! IT IS JAMES SANFORD'S JOB! So I have a great idea, why not just ensure he's doing it and NOT spend $90 000 more on another upper-class idiot who couldn't find their ass with an atlas (though I admit, that's actually pretty tough.)
Fourth, the second - I refer you to the Dean's List. If you have a rhesus monkey who's ever looked at Microsoft Excel's welcome screen then it takes 34 seconds to rank and display the students by marks in each faculty. Since all marks were due in fucking late April - more than am month ago - you now know who the top 5% are. Oh! And you said it'd be up in late May. Well - newsflash! It's June 1st. The last time I checked, we're still running the fucking 12 month calander where they don't mesh together into some kind of bureaucratic wetdream of ever-extending months and missed deadlines. So what do you do instead? Put up an explanation? Fire someone? Even an apology? Hell, I'd settle for a RECOGNITION and an evil laugh - but no, you just casually change the date to June 7 as if that's what it had always been.

Finally, you continue to act as if you've got students at heart while systematically neutralizing and demeaning them. I've sat on the fucking committees. I had the CHAIR of the committee nitpick at my grammar in open session, and fire petty personal insults. If I wanted THAT, I'd just hang out with Leah, Angela and Colin more and not give a damn about trying to help you remove the size 12 shoe you've stuck into your size 10 mouth with the Learning Commons.

You know what? That's it. Jihad on you. As one of my profs, and the Arrogant Worms, and even the Bloodhound Gang said, it's time to light U-Hall on fire and watch it burn down again. And I don't care if it's made of stone. Napalm works just fine.

Sincerely,
Chris Rivers
SRC Arts Rep
Official Admin Critic of the Ath (self-titled)

Take it Easy - The Eagles

2006-06-01T01:58:00.000-03:00

For anyone who's ever experienced the pleasures of scuba-diving or snorkelling, they know it can be an awesome, awesome time. There's bright colours, exotic fishies, lots of coral and occasionally other blundering tourists as lost as you are. It's an entirely different world.

One thing about snorkelling that I remember from Australia, though, was the terrifying feeling when all of a sudden I found myself under a ledge, a little bit unsure of exactly where the surface was and whether or not I still had enough air to make it. To make matters worse, I came face to face with a bright red fish over 5 feet long that kept me from being able to move in any direction I felt like.

In the end, since Im writing this, the worst that happened was that I was given a short scare and vowed to be a little more careful in the future. Yet, as we all know, I don't learn ANYthing the easy way and was soon back below the surface, and again watching the ocean close around me. Look at the pretty colours... keep an eye on the surfa... pretty colours.

Ode to Joy - Trans-Siberian Orchestra Cover

2006-05-31T07:12:00.000-03:00

Today feels like a good kind of day. I was up early to go out biking, and even though I got my ass kicked by Nicole (surprise, surprise), we still finished the course in 45 minutes - with her taking her sweet time waiting for me, while I laboured well in the back.

Saw a cute girl on the run as I was just thinking that I needed some kind of tangible sign that God didn't, in fact, hate me and want me to die using a cunning combination of slipping gears, hacking cough, back spasms and Hennigar's Hill. Well done, big Guy.

Sabres won in OT. Jays won in regulation. Argos signed Ricky. Raptors got the number one pick. Sweet Fanny Adams... if only the Leafs now do something right, it's going to look as if the Toronto sports scene won't, in fact, cause my blood pressure to rise again.

I had a banana. That's less exciting... but still. Mmmmm... bananananana.

EDIT: Eeeeewww... I just accidentally ate moldy bread. How the h*ll does bread go mouldy in the d*mn freezer?!

Jump - VanHalen

2006-05-30T16:29:00.000-03:00

I'd always been fairly certain that a rhomboid was little more than some kind of shape that had significance and importance in, what, 2nd grade? And then once you'd learned that no one above the age of, oh, 12 has a clue what a rhomboid is anymore, I'd dismissed it as being superfluous knowledge and immediately replaced in with something much more vital - such as, say, the 3rd verse of "Barret's Privateers".

However, when she said "Jump" and then followed it up with "As high as you can" before concluding with "As many times as you can in 30 seconds" and "Oh - you may get a bit tired", I listened. And promptly sprained my rhomboid.

I must confess... I kind of just like saying rhomboid.

Regardless, with back to the wall - or at the very least, back towards me - I got as much exercise as my back would allow. Between tennis, hill climbs, walking, canoeing and even an intesne game of 20 Questions, I'm fairly stiff this morning. Legs and back are telling me that tonight will be filled with hardcore baseball watching and pork chop cutting.

Oh. And SSS died a quick and painless death. Go ahead: be surprised.

On a sidenote: Angela, Leah - You're both meanies. Colin, you're spared by lack of knowledge.

Walking on Broken Glass - Annie Lennox

2006-05-28T15:14:00.000-03:00

Glass - which can be extraordinarily pretty to begin with - after spending a bunch of time in the water, becomes smooth, rounded and soft.

And like anything else that's pretty, you're left being very careful with it. There's conflicting feelings. You don't want to damage it, no matter how much you may want to take it. But you know that you're clumsy, and liable to drop it and watch it shatter into a thousand pieces.

Yet you pick up the glass, look at it, turn it over in your hands, feel how smooth it is and enjoy it. You keep it, because you can get lost looking into it. You know that you don't really want to leave it behind.

Amazing what you can find on a beach, or by the water.

If You Could Read My Mind - Gordon Lightfoot

2006-05-27T02:34:00.000-03:00

Once again, I've decided to revert back into my code-type ways. Why, you may ask? HAH! It's in code, so you have to figure it out that way! Mwa ha ha ha!!

In any case. I've taken this random diagram of a human brain, and decided that I'd like to study it. It is, of course, late, so Im going to be plagued by fatigue a little bit, but that shouldn't stop me from attempting to apply it as necessary.

What we have, in the best kin terms, is an intermingling of green and red patches in the cortex nebula nervous system dealy. If we take the green to represent good ideas, and the red to represent bad ideas, we find that most of the 'bad' - or as I like to call it 'thought demons' - are located at the front of the brain. I think. It could be the back. Thus, I've decided that means that all bad decisions have already occured. That yellow bit is 'neutral decisions'. I don't like them, so they're being ignored.

Ergo - we've now moved into the 'Senate' function of the brain diagram - the sober second thought, which is telling me that if all I do is what I want to do, and don't stick by statements that you no longer agree with, even if you made them only days ago, then I should stay in the green.

Woohoo for Reading that one right.

You Learn - Alanis Morisette

2006-05-26T20:04:00.000-03:00

Time for me to finally learn something I should have learned a long, long time ago.

Just Go with the Flow.

Rivers

The Remedy - Jason Mraz

2006-05-25T13:47:00.000-03:00

Well... the cure is actually an awful lot of sleep, three people who are surreal at listening and avoiding any and all drugs, up to and including caffiene, alcohol and morphine. Instead, a couple of pots of Kraft Dinner, so much squash that muscles scream and setting up a trip to Newfoundland and a visit from a friend from New Brunswick makes me feel a little happier.

Ange and Colin have been, surprise surprise, instrumental in me not doing something incredibly stupid - well... stupider than a rain-soaked 18km bike ride, anyways.

In short... for the first time in what seems like forever, but in actuality is basically one year (almost to the day), I'm single.

My dear God... could the SSS actually be the way to go? Could Colin have actually been right, again?! He still owes me a drink though.

One interesting side effect of not carrying a specific torch for someone is that my code - that I love and so labouriously fret over - is gone. I'm just speaking plain English. How bizzare.

Man... these blogs are so bloody narcissitic. Or however you spell it.

Blinded by Rainbows - The Rolling Stones

2006-05-24T05:50:00.000-03:00

The song starts "Have you ever felt the pain... that he felt upon the cross?"

This picture shows a drop of water falling. Behind the drop, drops, however many, there's a rainbow. It's a gorgeous rainbow, soft and pale, and it's a rainbow that meant more to me than even I thought. It's a rainbow that I long to touch, a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end that I literally held for such a brief period of time, a rainbow that I followed to the end as best as I could. What makes it harder to look at is that it's a rainbow that washed over stormy skies and happy ones, a rainbow that was over every hill and around every corner.

And I wish I could be mature and manly and hell, I wish I could stop crying right now, but GODS DAMMIT I wish the rainbow would either have been something I could hold on to or something that would have just vanished with the first glimpses of strong sunlight or dark clouds. It's unfair of me, perhaps, to demand so much of something so complex - such an exquisite blend of light and beauty. Something that brings both the paramount and detrimount of emotion. All a rainbow is, in essence, is droplets of water reflecting colours back to the eye. It's so pretty and mesmerizing that so often, people will stop whatever they're doing just to stare at it and sit in wonder and awe.

Skittles exhorts me to 'Taste the Rainbow'. Well - hey Skittles - what happens when you taste the rainbow and find that you like the taste more than anything you've ever tasted before? When you find that to have more of the rainbow you'd stare at the clouds... stare at the sky... stare at the ceiling just praying for more, even though you now know that it's a rainbow for a reason, and that sometimes, you just can't have what you want.

And no matter what... you know that you still want to chase that rainbow, because the pot of gold is just so alluring, so tempting, but so out of reach.

What do you do when you have rainbows that sparkle out from behind your own eyes, blinded by tears and blinded by rainbows? And how do you be a big enough person to still, honestly, want to do whatever you can to make that rainbow shine even brighter, when with every ounce of your being you feel like you just can't overcome it?

Im breaking out of my life of metaphors for just one paragraph: if you know that someone has loved you, adored you, dreamed about you for years, why would you dangle something in front of them that they can't have, only to jerk it back once they've just gotten a taste? Am I selfish for thinking that? Maybe. But it was 4:45am when I started writing this and it's almost 6:00am now, and if I've ever taken an hour fifteen to write this little before, I don't know when.

Don't Phunk with My Heart - Black Eyed Peas

2006-05-23T13:46:00.000-03:00

Rivers is a little cross today.

Let's say that you're this poor bastard - alone, on the bench, in a no-name arena playing for a no-name team. But you have the dream that one day you're going to be called up to the NHL to play. We're going to give our player a name - he's Kris Fleuves. Now Kris is currently playing outside of the big leagues - he's in some kind of semi-pro league in Scotland.

However - one of his favourite NHL teams owns his rights, which means they can bring him up, if they so choose and he signs a contract. So here's how his life with this team - we're going to call them the Colorado Avalanche - goes. Let's start at the beginning.

In his first year playing for the Berlin IceBears, he's happy with his life. He has a comfortable place to live, enjoys the team and the coach. It's not perfect, but it's a happy life. The Avalanche draft him in the 2nd round and force him to make a decision: he can either leave to play with the team for one or two games, but jeopardize his career with the IceBears. He's tempted to leave for Colorado, but in the end, his teammate convinces him to stay with the foreign league team. He does.

Life continues on for another year or so, but Fleuves is finding that Berlin just isn't doing it for him. He quits the team. Colorado once again comes calling, but the agent they send is only after his physical skills, and despite hinting at contract negotiation, again Fleuves leaves with a bad taste in his mouth, and re-joins the IceBears. However, shortly after, Berlin ends up trading him. Kris, hurt and stung, leaves the Deutch Eishockey League and tries to start again with the Scotland Nessies.

Finally, he's given his chance. After spending the off-season plying his trade for the Gold Coast Barons of the Australian Hockey League, Fleuves recieves a very clear sign from Colorado that they're interested in having him join the team. Kris goes, tries out at an early-season event and thinks things are going well. With plans to meet again for another tryout, Flevues is pretty happy. However, then Colorado - AGAIN - walks away, and refuses to talk any type of a deal - be it short-term or long-term.

Fleuves, still with the Nessies, has a tumultous season. He scores a lot, but ultimately realizes that he's not happy until he gets his chance. So he takes a huge risk and leaves his relatively stable and content life with the Nessies and devotes his attention to playing for Colorado. At first, it seems to go well - he scores three times in their opening game, and then spends the next day talking things over with team management. They promise to come by soon and get to know Kris a bit better.

A week passes. No sign from Colorado. Fleuves travels to the team headquarters, travels with the team to road games, does everything in his power to at least get a sign out of management if they play on drafting him or not - but recieves nothing. Other than a 'We may call you later' message and misdirections from the GM's secretary.

Kris Fleuves is left with a decision: should he be patient, and keep hoping and waiting for his chance in the big-time? Or should he cut his losses, and either return to the minor league circuits or attempt to get a contract with the Toronto Maple Leafs?

He doesn't know. He's trying to Hold Fast, but his grip is slipping.

I am a Rock - Simon and Garfunkel

2006-05-22T22:34:00.000-03:00

This, really, is the ultimate goal - only without the bizzaro white strappy underwear thing. Who wears that, really? I suppose with abs like that, he can wear whatever he wants. Admittedly... I wear whatever I want as well, but I only do so when I'm wearing ear-plugs as an accessory. I can only hear so many snide comments about my unique taste in colour blending.

Regardless. This summer, short of finishing my thesis and exploring and discovering Norway, I hope to actually develop and maintain a healthier lifestyle. Food, exercise, sleep patterns, emotions... the whole 9 yards.

Incidentally - the whole 9 yards as a saying comes from the military, when airplane mounted guns shot chains of bullets 9 yards long. Thus, to give an enemy craft the whole 9 yards was to shoot the ever-loving heck out of it, or 'give it your all'. The more you know...

Back on topic. Such exertions have included 130+ kilometers on my bike so far, a new regimen of squash games, and meals such as tonight's lightly braised pork served over a bed of mushrooms and green peppers with tomato sauce. Can you taste the healthy? For my 'late-night snack' I had apple juice and halved pears. In light syrup. The last time that I spent this much time preparing and thinking about health was when I was 2 months old and sleep and food were ALL that existed on my mind.

The long and the short of it is that right now, I've got the energy level of a dead molerat in winter. When do I start to get the benefits? When I'm 50? If this continues than maybe it won't matter that I'm still facing a couple of red flashing zeroes (Norway, thesis) because I won't have the gumption to make strides even if I could.

Hungry - Paul Revere and the Raiders

2006-05-21T15:04:00.000-03:00

For the first time, really, since I moved off campus I decided to do something somewhat gourmet of my own. While dessert at the BBQ only whetted my appetite, and then the chicken guacamole wraps and asparagus, not to mention the chicken and veggies with cheese sauce from Shannon were amazing, they all shared one thing in common: it was because of someone else that I was happy and content, with my appetite temporarily satisfied.

Today - ohhh baby. Different story. I had a leftover red pepper that I decided to break my toaster oven in on. Rosated red peppers with terriyaki noodes, including carrot slivers, was amazzzzing. It's one thing to be at Meal Hall and have them slice, dice and serve it up nice - but to actually be moving and cooking in a kitchen again is enjoyable.

Now I just have to see how many of the recipes from Jester's I can remember... the short answer, I'm afraid, is few. Hopefully, though, patience will bring stuff back to me, and this time - by writing it down, perhaps - I'll actually be able to keep it within easy reach, not just in a happy little corner of my memory.

Now... what to have for dinner? And dessert?

Help! - The Beatles

2006-05-20T15:21:00.000-03:00

Is this blatant theftery of an image from someone else's page? Of course it is!! But hey, as long as I cite (Ezmy) I should be legal - by the rules of the ever-incredible academic world.

So what, I hear you ask (if I listen REALLY hard to the voices in my head), could someone as amazingly charming, witty and gorgeous as I have to be freaking out over?

The same damn things as usual.

I biked 18km in the pouring rain last night, only to realize at around the 16km mark it was a really bad idea - and at that point I was already so heavily invested in the ride, you can't really call it quits. Then, as per usual, I went to the market this morning. Hung out with the tofudabeasts... and it was good, but strained. Again.

Two thoughts: One) Why can't I let well enough alone? Two) Conversely, what the hell do I need to do?!

So as Lennon said... "Help!"

Norwegian Wood - The Beatles

2006-05-19T22:33:00.000-03:00

Time to start up a new and exciting blog. Admittedly, my old one at livejournal was pretty fun, but I decided that I just didn't like the layout options there as much. Now - really - are people going to read these things? I highly doubt it. Could I be wrong? Well - I was last time. So I may as well get rolling by just re-posting an old message from previous blog, but one that still applies and - if anything - has become more appropriate.

I've found myself sitting and waiting by the phone an awful lot lately as well. As Matt commented - I'm a teenaged girl. I'm relatively familiar with this already... but that doesn't make it any less exciting.

----------------From May 15th, 2006 ------------------

Here I go again, listening to songs and watching them apply to my life or take on new meaning.

BBQ Stain - Tim McGraw: The BBQ on Saturday went over very well, with all kinds of spectacular desserts - though, as usual, I just enjoyed having more of the main course.

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) - The Beatles: Norway isn't really known for an awful lot, in terms of what they've contributed. Vikings, the biathalon (thanks Robin Williams) and little cookies - though those MIGHT be Danish. Could be both. In any case, Norway's spies and songs are amazing, and while there was no 'sleeping in the tub', as the Beatles suggested, Lennon was still right on.

Stand Out - Powerline: A fake song, somewhat, but I was right - It wasn't a question of if, just a matter of time.

So Happy Together - The Turtles: No matter how the dice were tossed, it had to be. It just took its sweet country time.

Three Times a Lady - Lionel Richie: Since its Lionel, I have no idea what the lyircs mean. But the song title caught my eye.

However... as Colin said, one has to hope that its not The Little Old Lady from Pasadena (Beach Boys) just giving me a good race.