William Matheson's Journal

11:24 am - Diversions

I've now uploaded the last of my PEI photos from this summer - you can see the sets at the bottom of this year's collection. I took everything with my newer SX10 IS camera - the image stabilization and 20x optical zoom are handy, to say the least. I could take good photos with the old A300, and I still carry it in my backpack for surprises, but it's much easier to take good photos with the new one. Much less sneaker-zooming, for starters.

My car's doing fine - I appreciate it more with the passage of time. Apparently I was lucky to get this particular car in such shape. Production numbers of my model dwindled every year until hitting a paltry 35,267 in 1997.

Last night I was clicking around and I was shocked to find videos! MotorWeek road tests the first V8 MN12 Cougars and Thunderbirds (introduced in 1991, they also test the next revisions in 1994). There are also a plethora of vintage ads - my favourite so far is this one from Mexico. There's definitely quite a bit of "Ha! As if!" humour in it.

Finally, if you love trash, do watch this classic. Sesame Street can just be so sublime with just a hint of twistedness sometimes. Then there's the well-known phenomenon of the Sesame Street dub, including this favorite with Ernie and Bert synced to "Ante Up". Try it with the lyrics!

Current Mood: hungry

01:55 am

So I had a pretty good outing with JuJu tonight. He helped me realize that, in actuality, despite the fact that I add online "friends" with insatiable voracity, I'm really kind of a "shy" person. (At least at first.)

All these years I've been beating myself up over it, thinking it was some sort of selfish defect. If only I'd put myself out there and all that. Well, I mean, I should still put myself "out there," but only as much as I feel comfortable doing. For the last number of years I've tried to push myself beyond the point with the aim of coming across as a non-shy, non-selfish, non-awkward, got-my-crap-together, well-adjusted person. But really, though I may have my crap together and be on my way to being well-adjusted, that wasn't actually who I was. I've been trying to be someone I'm not for years now.

I even remember in ninth grade there was this pseudo-scientific personality test going around - thanks to our Bible teacher, of all people - and for some reason I kept thinking I was the "Popular" type, the one that was funny and the life of the party, that sort of thing. But my classmates kept saying to me, "Will, you're not funny." Only now is that starting to sink in! They knew me better than I did. For the most part, they didn't like me, but neither did I at the time.

Oddly enough, I enjoy public speaking and acting, though I'm nervous as all get out when those things come up. I force myself through those things anyway, and generally I do pretty well. But that's performing. Socializing and small talk - those aren't performance things. Even if I performed perfectly for a time, how long could I sustain it?

When I was in grade school, I was lonely to the point of absurdity. I was willing to do or say almost anything for the sake of attention. I think I got into being this character that I really wasn't. I'd always try to say the weird thing or make the awkward joke. It's gotten so perverted now that I actually like making awkward, off-putting jokes and references. It's time to wean myself off of that.

One thing that I know that I like? Chemistry! Why didn't I take this before? But many people caution that second-year in any given subject is much different than first-year / high school. I hear psychology mentioned in this way a lot, and I enjoyed its first-year introductory course and snatched an easy A+. So it's really still up in the air whether or not I have a future in sciences or not. But I know for sure that I most definitely do not have a future in literary criticism - well, I've known that for some time now. I tried teaching, but discovered that I don't have the heart to wrangle people the way they need to be. Honestly, my Japanese cooperating teachers deserve most of the credit for holding my classes down. When they left, it was bedlam. And I wanted to be anyplace else but there.

I also need to be doing more things. Even if I'm not working (and I don't want to at the moment, because I don't have to), I really need to be doing something constructive. All I've been making lately are excuses. I mean, I'm either reading my chemistry text, answering a zillion questions in it, practising my singing, or taking Paul someplace on any given day, but maybe that's not enough? I do waste a lot of hours sitting around. I did choose to buy that DSi. (This may pay off, though. There's a girl who takes my bus who hauled out one, and I never would have thought. When I see her next week, I can ask what games she's playing or whatever. It's ridiculously facile, but easy things sometimes work.)

I don't mean to burden random readers or even my friends with lame, trite woe-is-me bullcrap, but I have had pathologically low self-esteem since a certain point in my childhood. (Paradoxically, it's the kind of twistedness that lends itself to surefire turnoffs such as false modesty.) Basically what happened was that the guidance counsellors suddenly told me that I was special. Instead of demurring like John Locke, I took the message wholeheartedly, and the next thing I knew they were telling me that there was such a thing as "too special."

There was this book they kept showing me called "The Mouse, The Monster, and Me," and I felt like, no matter what I did, I was always the mouse or the monster, but never me. There was nothing I could do or say to please them. Or, I should say, nothing that was in my capacity at the time. I'm sure if I shut my mouth and did everything obediently, they would have said I was perfectly well-adjusted and closed my file. I probably should have also considered actually reading the book. After the "Wait for William" debacle in first grade (I was just as slow as its protagonist, but also cursed with a (misplaced?) pride that could be injured), I was categorically turned off by anything they shoved under my nose. Also, I think it would have been good if they tried to meet me halfway. Like if someone had watched a Star Wars movie once, that would have been helpful.

So yeah, close Dundas. ;-) I have no fondness for it. Let the kids go to Cardigan or Souris, where they'll make more friends. The extra ten minutes on the bus will be well worth it.

Current Mood: thoughtful

08:59 pm - Last ski of the year?

Brook at the bottom of the Pine Grove Run
Originally uploaded by blue_william.

Current Mood: satisfied

10:52 pm - Arf Arf Clunk

Written this afternoon in Albion Cross

Sigh. I usually go to bed around 2:30, but because of the time change it was really 3:30 in practical terms. Church was this morning, and I managed to bump my head twice (once on a pew, once on a car doorframe [my head is still sore]) and I also jokingly albeit thoughtlessly stuck my foot out in the aisle to “trip” a poor kid who was walking blindfolded for a demonstration during Children’s Time. Sigh. I told the minister afterwards that inside me there’s a little boy who always wants to act out and that I should do a better job of subduing him.

Coming back here, I got mad and yelled at my Dad’s folks’ stupid, stupid dog. I hate it when she leaps up at what I’m carrying, especially my camera case or my laptop. I could have kicked that dumb mutt into next week, and only fear of retaliation prevented me from doing so. Only she isn’t a mutt – she’s apparently a retriever. I can’t abide her either way. She’s always bumping into me and jumping up at me with her jaw open. I suppose she has her redeeming qualities, and I’ll report back on this when I find some.

It’s snowing heavily. The weather lately has been frustrating. It’s too cold and slushy for walking or biking comfortably and safely, but it’s too mild for skiing. I’m really hoping for a cold snap after this snowfall. I really want to go skiing at least one more time while I’m here. I don’t skate ski, so I pretty much have to wait for a good snowfall and a good groomed track.

No slideshow today. I called Lea-Mac (a Radio Shack Source dealer) in Souris but they don’t have the S-video to RCA adaptor that I need for the TVs here in Albion Cross. I thought that one of the DVD / VCR combos (with RF and RCA outputs) would have S-video input, but both only had output. Bah, humbug! I mean, they have RCA input! Simmer. Gripe.

The adaptor is the simplest little thing – I had one in Japan but I left it with Chantal, along with 10m RCA cables for the same cross-room laptop-to-TV hookup that I’d had in my apartment. (I would have purchased a 10m S-video cable, but my television only took RCA anyway.) Funny thing, I might have wasted the whole thing on her – when I hooked it up for her, we only got a black-and-white picture. I think now that a pin might be bent, though at the time I tried to fiddle with settings on her computer. I’m fairly sure that wasn’t it at all, though. Since S-video (“s” means separate) carries the chroma and luminance information on separate pins, I’d bet on a failure with the chroma pin. I asked her about it a week ago but I haven’t heard from her. I think I should have poured down some asbestos on a communication wire before burning all my bridges from Seiko. =)

I still feel wronged by Seiko in some ways, but I’m also more keenly aware of my own pettiness, rudeness, and other shortcomings. It’s easy to say that I was working under a bunch of narcissistic morons, but I was the fool that went there without asking questions because I wanted things to be true that turned out not to be. I’m like a lot of people adrift in the sea of the skillless – too smart for religion, too dumb for science.

Speaking of which, I wonder how I’ll do this summer. I’ve added up the cost of the courses – luckily, it’ll all only cost about a tenth of what I have saved, so if it goes horribly awry and I can’t get past integrals and derivatives or whatever, I won’t be too much worse off. I also figured out that I’ll be better off getting transit tickets as opposed to a pass. The cost of a student pass is going up $10, from $54 to $64. That’s enough to make it better to get tickets for many – sure, they’re going up to $1.80 apiece (and will be available in books of 10 ($18) and 20 ($36)), but unless you’re going on round trips five days a week every week, you’re better off getting tickets. Getting the adult pass ($70) will be even harder to justify – even if you’re going on a round trip every weekday of the month (say, May ’09), that only gets you to $75.60 in ticket value. (July would be a good deal – it’s weekdays add up to $82.80.) Lessons: 1) Do the math. 2) Don’t spend your $5 savings in one shop. The convenience is worth a few bucks, though, I suppose. So really, tickets aren’t too shabby, especially now that it’s easier to transfer now than it used to be – short layovers are tolerated now, for instance.

For the record, I’m all for the fare increases as long as our current level of service is maintained (or even, dare I dream, enhanced).

Let’s hope!

03:55 pm - car's out, whee

We finally got the car out - my aunt sat in the driver's seat and gave it some gas as I and two bystanders who came to help unbidden pushed the car forward. It took all of five seconds, if that. Easy as pie.

Funny thing: Among my folks here, books and videos and DVDs tend to make the rounds from house to house. Right now, a little movie called Brokeback Mountain is making said rounds. The hilarious thing is that none of them know what it's about - they just think it's some critically-acclaimed movie - until they watch it. And then the movie gets passed onto the next (equally hapless) viewer without comment.

Current Mood: cold

01:29 pm - A Tale of Forgetfulness

Yesterday the temperature crawled just above freezing and it rained quite a bit, so I decided I’d take the opportunity to try and get Grandma’s car unstuck. The last time I was driving it, I wanted to park it well out of the way of the path of the snowblower when it comes through, and so I pulled so far off the driveway that I got the driver’s side front wheel into an icy rut and the passenger side wheel sitting on a patch of ice.

I went out, dug around the car a bit, and tried to move it. No good. I got out and hacked away some more. I rolled down the window and leaned out to see if the front wheel could gain any purchase. No, still no good. I turned off the car, gave up, and went inside.

I passed a lovely evening uploading photos and watching Battlestar Galactica, starting with the miniseries. It’s the bomb. I was wary about watching Yet Another Lone Starship™ series, like the sometimes good (but usually not) Star Trek: Voyager, the insipid and trite Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda, or the impotent and mercifully forgotten Star Trek: Enterprise. I mean, space station shows are usually pretty good – Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Babylon 5 are both worth watching in their entireties. I haven’t watched very much of BSG yet, but it looks awesome, and Jammer (whom I’ve trusted for Trek reviews for twelve years) gives it consistently good reviews. I don’t think it’s too much to say that BSG is the show that Trek fans have been waiting for. I know such language was used as a promotional quote for Titan A.E., saying it was the movie that Star Wars fans had been waiting for. That’s not even close to being true. In this case, I mean it and think it’s true – although to be quite honest, Trek fans are really waiting for a Star Trek that’s actually good. I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, though, because of the sheer weight of the continuity that’s been established – there’s so much that’s been plotted out that there’s no room to breathe anymore, and the writers used time travel so much in Voyager and Enterprise that the entire history of the Trek universe seems contrived, meaningless and irrelevant anyway.

I went to bed and got to sleep.

This morning around 9:30, Aunt Shirley came to my door. “Sorry to disturb you… It looks like Grandma’s car window is open.”

Wait. What?

Oh NO.

Oh yes.

Honestly, if they gave awards for stupidity and carelessness, I’d get first prize. I swept away the crust on the doorframe and cranked the window shut (fortunately they’re the manual kind). Then I began the laborious process of wiping (with my mitts), sweeping (with a snowbrush, especially the seats), and scooping the snow up and pitching it out.

After a while, I’d gotten most of it out, so I turned the car on and cranked up the heater and blower to get the rest. I let it run for nearly two hours, so I expect at least ten angry postcards from the World Wildlife Fund. Anyway, that did the trick – the inside of the car is dried out, and now all I have to do is wait for the next warm day or some other able-bodied relative to make an appearance (I've tried pushing it by myself, but it is stuck too fast for a single person to push out), and I’ll have wheels again. That is, if Grandma doesn’t take them away. =)

Current Mood: tired

11:12 pm - Moonlight Skiing

When Aunt Shirley got the skiing call from a friend, I hopped in the other car and followed suit - the conditions tonight were great, and I pretty much had to do the whole eight because it would have been a shame otherwise. The moon was nearly full, and I did the entire trail without my light, turning it on only to change podcasts (from Prime Time Sports to Quirks and Quarks) on my MP3 player.

I'm darn glad I had those podcasts to keep my mind satiated, because those moonlit snowy woods have a way of working on your imagination! I found myself wondering more than once what would happen if a few coyotes decided I looked appetizing. I was utterly alone on the trail; Shirley and her friends had a twenty-minute head start, so they were probably outside my screaming range.

Also, going down the gentle but curvy slopes with only the light of the poor made me wonder what might happen if I broke a leg. I had my cell phone, but there were no roads nearby, so what good would an ambulance be? Would I have to drag myself back to the lodge on my belly, or hop on one foot if I still had a good leg? (I guess I could have used one of the ski poles to support myself on such a journey.) But Aunt Shirley reassured me afterwards that they'd have been able to dispatch a snowmobile ASAP. I never even thought of that. This whole area right now is Snowmobile Heaven, and the Souris spur of the Confederation Trail that's given over to snowmobilers in the winter months runs adjacent to the ski trails. So I guess next time I won't worry quite so much.

Current Mood: mellow

05:36 pm - little sisters + knowing things

We had the girls over here last night. They were quite a handful! Ila's a little bit unhinged, and Rae gets scared and upset about the slightest things. But they're nine and seven respectively, so I suppose it's to be expected. Probably what really gets me is when I see in them behaviour that I used to exhibit as a child. Seeing what other people probably saw in me mortifies me to no end.

I visited J. and L. down in Dundas today, after dropping off the girls and their boatload of belongings (including two sacks for superfluous stuffed animals - one or two critters I could understand, but two whole bags full?). J. and I were talking about various things, and she suggested that I become registered as a substitute teacher. In PEI, as it is in New Brunswick but not in Nova Scotia, one can substitute with only a university degree, and maybe not even that, as the form for PEI suggests sending proof of 30 credit hours / 1 year of "post-secondary education." My stars.

So my problem isn't so much that I'm not certified. I could be teaching right now if I wanted to. Unfortunately, a larger problem is that I don't know anything. There is exactly one subject that I have a background in: English. The form for the Eastern School District alone has room for six subject preferences and three subject specialities. Somehow, I don't think writing "English" and "English" is going to make me look like a hot prospect. Now, this hasn't stopped a lot of people from teaching anyway. But it may stop me, for now.

In going to Dal this summer for continuing ed courses, I'm basically turning back the clock to Grade 11. I may well end up going to my 10-year high school reunion and saying yeah I've got Mr. MacDonald for chemistry. Well, that's if I can hack it and don't drop out on the first day. =) Ha-ha. No, I'm going in full throttle. I'm sick of being a simpleton.

Current Mood: hungry

10:59 pm - Readings and Notwritings

On a trip into town last week, I went into the library and there was a science exhibit going on, with all kinds of interactive displays and things. Cool! So I’m back in the magazines area, and there’s a Bernoulli lift, so I’m like, wow, I’ll try this out, and the first instruction is flip the switch, so I do that and VROOOOOOMMMMM and before I know it I’m flipping the switch off and apologizing to the nearby readers who are glaring at me.

On a quieter note, I found a brochure for and have since registered for a writer’s workshop in early February. Charlottetown is their only stop in Atlantic Canada. Now I haven’t been writing at all lately, unless you count this blog, and many people wouldn’t. In general, I’m great at coming up with excuses not to write. If procrastination were a contest, I’d be a world champion.

We brought in the new fridge at Grandma’s – the delivery guys were having a busy day and they didn’t come until 4:30. Anyway, I was relived to see that they knew what they were doing and had the right tools for the job – there was virtually no lifting required, and they had the situation in hand from start to finish. That, of course, didn’t stop my littlest sister (Rae, 7) from pushing me repeatedly and shouting, “Help them, William! Help them!” So I had to awkwardly ask if they needed help (they clearly didn’t, and said they were OK).

What I did do was sweep out the spot where the fridge had been and help Grandma load the new one when it was installed. The new one is nice and quiet – the old one had a mechanical problem and was making a tremendous racket (and was probably also using more electricity as the compromised system would have had to be running longer to achieve the same amount of cooling).

This is what amounts to news around here. =)

* * *

I vacuumed up The Subtle Knife in about a day and a half. I couldn’t believe how brutal it was. It sure didn’t pull any punches. (Don’t hold your breath waiting for the Hollywood movie!) Now I’m waiting for a paperback of The Amber Spyglass to come up from Borden. I wish this series were twenty books and not three, but then I guess it’d be Yet Another Overlong Fantasy Series.

There were a bunch of sci-fi books I’d been meaning to read before I went to Japan, and I crosschecked my Halifax “My List” with what’s available here, but the things I had on the list might have been too obscure: A Fire Upon the Deep was nowhere to be found, and Solaris was only available in French (but neither English nor its original Polish).

However, I did find the first season of the new Battlestar Galactica, which I’ve never watched but hear is pretty good (and there weren’t 1,500 holds on it, as there would have been in Halifax!), and the first Rama book (no, not Ranma), so those are two new things I can start on while I’m putting off writing my internship report. =) OK, I really gotta get at that. Tomorrow!

Current Mood: full

11:15 am - cold cold cold cold cold

It’s COLD! Today I took Grandma’s car to the garage and then walked to a place where I’d get my hair cut, and boy – I had to turn my face away from the direction I was walking in because the wind was just too painful. I’m sure some people wondered what such-and-such a fellow was doing walking up the street to the hairdresser’s with his head turned 90° so that his hood could deflect the wind. At the hairdressers – this was a three-minute walk – I spent five minutes wiggling my toes so that they’d thaw out.

I thought cross-country skiing the other night was cold, but that was nothing. It’s -19°C today (with an afternoon high of -18°), and with the windchill the radio says it’s an extreme -38°. It’s cold no matter how you slice it. Of course, one of my former co-workers is teaching in Buffalo Narrows, and he reports a temperature of -40°, -46° with windchill. So at least it’s not very windy!

But wow, I’ve never been so cold since the time I lived in Grande Prairie. But the only thing Grand Prairie and Buffalo Narrows have in common is latitude. Grande Prairie is a northern bastion of civilization, with real malls, all the big box stores you could name, lots of people, lots of bars, and even a nifty bus service. It still gets cold, but there are things to do and people to see and somehow you get through it. Or at least I’m guessing this – I left town with the other kids in my program at the end of November!

This is what the heating situation is like here:





Grandma, in Albion Cross: “It’s just like Florida out here! The sun is shining…” Well, as long as you stay indoors, yes. =)

Joy: Tomorrow there'll be a high of -20°C, and Saturday they're predicting -23°. Ack.

Current Mood: chipper

10:35 pm - Skiing by the Souris Line

Canada 2009
A collection by blue_william.

Current Mood: mellow

10:04 pm - Matheson san wa sensei deshta

I got a card from one of my students last night, too. I almost broke down in tears. She’s such a keener, such a go-getter, and she never hesitated to speak up – gosh, she’ll do great things. I deserve very little credit for that of course; it’s almost more heartening that she took the time to write to me. I don’t expect or really want this to last – out of sight, out of mind (as we say), or saru mono wa hibi ni utoshi (去る物は日々に疎し), as they might say. I only tried my best to teach the children as I would have wanted to be taught – some days I was closer to the ideal than others, but I think the children appreciated my efforts. I’ll never forget that great big book that they made for me with the individual thank-you messages – it was one of the nicest things that anyone’s ever done for me, and if I’m feeling down I can just think of it or flip through it.

On the other hand, it’s a bit embarrassing how Will Matheson, the struggling perpetually-between-things dilettante, differs from Mr. Matheson, the fun English, science and art teacher. I’m trying not to let that get me down though. Part of the problem in coming back has been discovering how things have not changed despite my own change – my modicum of growth in absentia might take a day or two to register on others, but I can see why they wouldn’t notice because I’m so busy gawking and second-guessing.

Part of coming back is taking advantage of all the insight I’ve picked up and applying it to my situations here. For the most part, I’m appalled at the things I have said and done and what their consequences have been, and I realize more and more every day how difficult I’ve made things for myself. It’s not all doom and gloom, but it’s enough to make me want to wish my life had a rewind / erase button, like an old cassette tape-based answering machine. In the present, I am bogged down by all the new information and new realizations that come at me at a mile-a-minute as I revisit old haunts and auld acquaintances. Eventually it will settle down and I’ll plateau again, and then I’ll have to go abroad again if I want to learn anything more than the very little I already know. =)

Still, I have a lot to look forward to. I’ve got friends – good friends, as they’re my friends in spite of my proclivities, and yet going back to school is definitely going to help kick-start my social life again. I have good friends, but more won’t hurt. Maybe I’ll meet people who are in the same boat that I am! It’s a little bit embarrassing not to be moving on to grad school (and I have a buddy who keeps saying I can and should be and wants me to apply for a specific program), but right now I need to embody Socratic honesty more than anything else. I’d like to do a little something about it, and then we’ll see where I go from there.

* * *

So now I’m in Souris, and my trip up was fine. The only thing was that it was cold and I was tired, and when I got out of the van in Charlottetown, I was dropping things on the pavement (like the adapters and batteries that go with my headphones) and I got a bit turned-around. Fortunately, Aunt Shirley and Grandma arrived quickly, and I got out of the cold and into the warm car.

We visited Dad at the Farmer’s Market where he was selling the lamb meat – I was so impressed by the cosmopolitanism of the place and the teeming crowds; it seemed like the place to be. Next we picked up some ski boots (at a rad shop from an incredibly cute clerk), and Aunt Shirley seemed to want me to get a haircut because despite my assertion that I was okay for a few days, we yet drove around looking for a place that would be open (it’s Saturday). =) We had lunch and later visited Uncle N. and Aunt D. and later (Grand) Uncle N. and (Grand) Aunt P. and then of course the farm in Albion Cross. Grandma had us worn out! =) Oh, she’s still going strong – she even made me a new pair of slippers! (I love Echo Christmases.)

So back in Souris I’m taking my things in and up to my room and I’m thinking hey when should I get started on my essay for S. at SMU and yeah I’ll write it on my laptop and where

OH

CRAP*

* - Not what I actually said.

CRAPCRAPCRAPCRAPCRAPCRAPCRAPCRAP**

** - Fortunately, Aunt Shirley was across the street at the store.

I’d left it behind somewhere. I called the shuttle company and left a message. An anxious hour later I got a call:

“I was hoping someone would call in and claim this laptop!”

Whew!!

Here’s approximately what happened: A fellow noticed the bag on the parking lot pavement and suggested to the driver that it probably was left behind – so it was put back in the van for the run back to Halifax! Back there, the owner/operator took a look at it, but couldn’t find my name (it’s in there, but buried). She was tempted to call all of the day’s passengers about it, but refrained because she might ask someone, “Hey, did you leave a laptop on the shuttle?” and that person might say, “Um… … yes!”

So I dodged several bullets here and am supremely grateful. This is the most harrowing incident I’ve had with my computer save the time when a certain animatrice at Sainte-Anne backed her car into it when she was helping me move. =) Fortunately, a certain political blogger spoke up and I escaped with only a cracked (but still-working) mouse and a slight screen… <ahem> defect that I later got repaired under the last gasps of my warranty.

Well, it’s time for bed – more visiting rounds in the AM!

Current Mood: optimistic

06:38 pm - 100. (4.) Roppongi to Okazaki

Written while waiting for Masae on the morning of August 4th.

G-yah! That was a disappointing cybercafé. It was expensive, cramped, and they didn’t even have soup or ice cream! Yes, they did have nice showers and bathrooms, but I did myself a disservice by not thinking things through before going to sleep: When I woke up in the morning, just ten minutes before the end of my time (!!), I realized that I couldn’t actually shower because there’d be no time to dry my towel.

Small mercies, though – it’s cloudy today, and knowing that I’m not spending another night here has put me in decent spirits. I know I’m going to wipe out most of this pay period’s savings [I ultimately didn’t touch any! Horray!], but I may never be back here, so I’d better make the most of it.

I got to Lloyds Bank and got the address thing sorted out. They’ll be sending me my pack. They didn’t get it in the mail before because of the address confusion – I thought that since the school was “38 Nakahara” and we were “29 [something]” (I can’t read kanji), that we were “29 Nakahara.” But Nakahara wasn’t the name of the street – it’s the name of the block. Surprise, surprise: Most streets in Japan don’t have names. The dorms, even though they’re just across the street, are on the Yoshinari Maesu block.

I’m waiting for Masae near an exit from Tameike-Sanno, on the Ginza Line. I’m sitting on concrete inside an alcove, and I’m hidden between two columns. I hope the security guards can’t see me. There’s no congenial place to sit as far as the eye can see. Nothing is free in this town.

* * *

Written from notes taken on the trains west of Tokyo late that same day.

I had quite a bit of fun with Masae. Seconds after we met, a middle-aged USAmerican woman (whose husband was in town on business) heard us speaking English and basically invited herself to follow us for a while. =) After she left, I told Masae that that would have been a little bit weird in any country, but based on the extraordinary circumstances (the poor woman was even demonstrating her (mixed-up) knowledge of Japanese vowel sounds off her book meant to teach Japanese to children), I felt some kind, patient assistance was warranted. After helping her get on her way, we went to the Imperial Palace – tours inside the walls require advance reservation and are only offered on certain dates, but just seeing the outer ramparts was worthwhile.

We had a great lunch at a ramen place – spicy ramen, yummy! We explored Akihabara, which made me wish I’d shopped around for that memory card, but at least it was working well – why take chances on a cut-rate no-name card when one’s photos are at stake? “Because you need to save money, Will.” Shut up.

Akihabara was cool; worth seeing, certainly. I don’t know if it merits its legendary status – there were a lot of stores selling lots of old and new stuff, but there were places that sold stuff like obsolete computers with inflated price tags, and this is in the age of the OLPC XO and Eee PC – why pay top dollar for paperweights when you can get a really practical small computer for just a few hundred dollars? Heck, Royal Bank is giving them away! I want one; imagine, having a practical computer with you everywhere you go without having to lug around 15 pounds of laptop and accessories! Gosh, they’d be perfect for travel blogging, too. They’d also be great for taking notes in class. You don’t need a 15.5” or 17” behemoth just to take psychology notes.

There were lots of interesting stores, but for the most part I think anything you could get there you could also get in Osaka’s Den-Den Town. Of note to fellow foreigners: Akihabara had special stores that had the export models supplied directly from their Japanese manufacturers, meaning that you could buy things with English manuals and menus – you could even get computers with English-language operating systems and good ol’ US English keyboards.

There was anime and manga galore, too, but I think they’re only of casual interest to most travelers unless they can read Japanese. Honestly, you might as well just wait until you get home and can get everything in English. Even anime DVDs here don’t usually have English subtitles, except perhaps for major major major releases.

While we’re on the subject, in other places I have purchased some Japanese Super Famicom games – they are electronically compatible with the North American SNES – you just have to knock out some little plastic “security tabs” inside the latter to play the former. To go the other way around you’d need an adaptor, but I haven’t heard of too many Japanese gamers interested in North American localizations. I also have the capability of playing imported PlayStation games on my PlayStation back home – but this is almost completely pointless, because all I like on PlayStation is RPGs, and RPGs require reading. I did, however, buy a PocketStation to go with my North American version of Final Fantasy VIII. Now I’ll finally be able to play the game the way it was meant to be played and maybe I’ll be kinder to it. Still, the story and mechanics of Final Fantasy VII – and IX, to a lesser extent – are a lot more fun.

Really, I think Anglo-Japanophiles (and I’m not one) are sometimes better off staying in their home countries, making good wages, having fun with their friends, and just dreaming about what Japan is like. OK, OK, being here has been a tremendous experience, but the country isn’t really the electric paradise that some people might think it is – if that’s what you’d come for, you might want to reconsider. Come for the people, the culture, the language, the food, the sights… actually, there’s a heck of a lot of awesome stuff here. I don’t regret coming here at all, and Japan’s a fine country. I’m just saying, though, it’s not as if you step off the airplane and there you are in Utopia Futureville 2525, despite common conceptions.

Where was I?

After Akihabara, we went back to Tameike-Sanno and had some tall tea drinks, and we talked, and talked, and talked. In large part, I was telling a horseshoe-shaped tale: when Masae visited us, my parents were still together, we had a thriving farm, and things were on the up and up. In the intervening twenty years my parents split, the farm was all but liquidated, I went to Bedford and had about as difficult a junior high and high school life as could possibly be conceived, and financially speaking things were in the deep doldrums.

I try to assert my connection to that past life on PEI as much as possible, but my father had a point when I made a visit the summer after, I think, Grade 7. He said I was now a tourist. Perhaps he resented the fact that I chose to live with my mother. The decision had more to do with geography than loyalty, but the die was cast – PEI and I were growing apart. Sure, I have virtually all of my childhood friends on Facebook, but there’s no interaction because there have been no shared experiences. With high school, it’s different – you can be like, “Ha-ha, remember Math class with Mr. Lyne?” but with elementary school it’s hard to keep in touch on the basis of “Hey, remember those times we used to play pretend in the schoolyard… [goes into awkward, why-do-you-still-remember-that detail]?”

The current situation is that I self-identify as either Islander or Nova Scotian depending on context. The Island has a lot in common with Japan in its two-part conception of the Universe: there is the Island, and then there is Outside. Japan does not recognize dual citizenship. Neither does, I think, PEI.

So I was telling a horseshoe-shaped tale, punctuated with some really low points, but lately things have been on the up and up. Masae had a lot of interesting things to say about her experiences on PEI in retrospect – among other things, she mentioned that my mother’s voice coach, Mr. MacPhee, once asked her what kinds of musical instruments they use for music classes in the Japanese school system. She answered (this was twenty years ago) that they learned to play Western instruments. Mr. MacPhee thought this was a travesty and expressed his opinion that the children ought to be learning traditional Japanese instruments instead. Well, now, they are, apparently.

She also remembered that a certain farmer by the name of Matheson had a habit of waving to all of the cars and trucks he met on the road. Heh-heh. It’s quaint by urban standards, but it’s nothing extraordinary – in Central and Eastern Kings it is possible to know, or know of, virtually everybody within a 20km+ radius (outside the towns, anyway), and since you’re waving to all of them, you might as well just wave to everybody!

After a long, long chat – one the likes of the one Gandalf and Tom Bombadil had – we set off for Tokyo Station so that Masae could help me get a reservation on the Moonlight Nagara. I’d given up on Mt. Fuji – I had mitts and a toque and even a rain poncho, but I didn’t feel really prepared – and I was ready to go back to Kansai. Unfortunately, at the time I’d forgotten the name of this train, and Masae couldn’t conceive of there being an overnight rapid, so we went through the line the first time without even asking about it. I had to graciously insist that we go back in line again, and all the while the clock was ticking for the conventional train that I was advised to get on. Ah, OK, there was such a train. It would have been just an extra seven or eight hundred yen (as I had the Seishun Juhachi Kippu). Unfortunately, it was booked solid. Oh well, at least it could have worked in theory. I hear these trains get booked a month or more in advance, but who plans that far ahead? (The Japanese, apparently.)

So I walk to the platform and wait for the prescribed commuter train – Masae fretted about me missing it even though we still had seven minutes to spare, and on top of that the train was late anyway. Just as well, as she had time to run up and find me waiting before going to catch her own train.

The train arrived, and we boarded. It was, of course, Monday afternoon rush hour in Tokyo, so my train car alone had about the population of California. I was standing for well over an hour before a bunch of people finally got off at Chigasaki. Oddly enough, I found it easier to fit in (as a worn-out, sweaty, bedraggled, disheveled traveler) among working folk than with partying, fashion-aware folk. I think the salarymen take one look at me and thank their gods that they’re not traveling far away from home.

It felt good to be seated, as standing, especially when the train was packed, was really starting to cut into my adventurous spirit. I didn’t even want to know how far outside Tokyo we’d gotten – both for my sake, and also for that of the sea of salarymen (and a few women) who must go every day.

As it got dark, the stations started to get tiny. I changed trains twice, the second time onto a Home Liner, which I was lucky to catch as I took the preceding local train further west before switching than my itinerary recommended, leaving a grace period of two minutes instead of nine. That Home Liner was cooking with gas – whisking right through small, pipsqueak stations in the dark of night is a unique feeling.

“Well,” I wrote, “this train is comfy and ‘reserved’ – let’s hope I don’t run into trouble. Worst case, they kick me off and I get back on the–”

And just then the conductor came by. Ah, there would be a ¥310 surcharge. Heh-heh. So you CAN go on these non-local, non-rapid trains – there’s just a little surcharge. That makes the Seishun Juhachi Kippu a lot more useful.

“It’ll be great to get out in the country and see the farms, the cows in the fields…” I’d remarked to Masae.
“Go to Hokkaido,” she laughed.

The scenery was still suburban, and it was quite dark anyway, so I tried to pass some of the time trying to read the overhead display at the front of the car, including the Japanese. I finally had a good dictionary – Masae gave me a copy of the Tuttle Concise Japanese Dictionary, which is great for foreigners, as you can look up Japanese words as if they were English, yet it still has the usage examples and kana / kanji equivalents. It’s much better than trying to use a conventional Japanese-English dictionary – they’re really meant for Japanese users, and English-speakers are treated as an afterthought at best.

I had to change trains again at Hamamatsu. On this next train, I met a 60-year-old man who spoke some English. He asked where I was going. I knew full well that I wasn’t going to make it to Osaka that night, but I wasn’t sure where I’d be staying along the way, and for that he thought I was crazy. It became kind of awkward, because he said so again and again:

“Do you have a reservation?”
“Nope!” I say, affecting cheer.
He shakes his head, “Crazy!”

He asked me what the most famous Japanese university outside of Japan was. I told him meekly that I hadn’t really heard of any before coming here – I should have explicitly said that this reflected more on my knowledge of world universities than the reputation of Japanese universities (low as they may be – at some places here, you can get a degree just for attending classes). He said that he’d graduated from Waseda University, and seemed a bit tiffed that I only kind of recognized the name.

He told me about his daughter, who was a grown career woman. I asked if he had any grandchildren. He exclaimed that he didn’t. I said, “Darn, you’ve got nowhere to spend your money!”

“I had two! They died!”

OH! “I’m… so sorry.”

We both got off at Toyohashi, as he was switching trains to go to Nagoya and he recommended I find a place to stay in Toyohashi instead of Okazaki, where the train was ultimately bound. I got out and feigned walking to another exit, and then when he was out of sight I hopped back on the train. Not only did I not like the vibes in that area; I also didn’t want to run into that fellow again as things were really getting awkward. He did give me his e-mail address and I’ve since contacted him to let him know I got back to Tokushima safely. Even that felt kind of maladroit.

So, Okazaki, eh? Well, I once ended up in Warsaw at 3:30am – I figured I could handle a small Japanese city at midnight. But things seemed to get sketchier and sketchier. Okazaki, though, was reassuring. There were not one, but two hotels within sight of the station, and the station itself felt quite safe. I considered sleeping there, as there’d be another train in five hours or so, but as sticky and tired as I was I felt that a hotel room would be a prudent investment and I was almost glad there was no cybercafé.

I walked to the closer, cheaper-looking hotel first: an AB. No good, they were full! O RLY? I suspected as I walked away – for a “full” hotel, it didn’t look that busy. I set off for the other hotel, the MyHotel Okazaki. En route, I had to wait at a sketchy at-grade railway crossing while two rowdy teenagers were waiting to cross on their bicycles. If anyone wanted to mug me, I was a sitting duck.

At the MyHotel, I started off on the diplomatic foot – using my phrasebook, I asked if they had a room instead of just asking how much a room cost. Ah, yes, they did! It would be ¥6300 for the night. Hmm… not bad given my sudden circumstances. They even offered me the chance to sleep in and stay until 1 for just another 30% or ¥1800. Heh – that would be time better spent on the train, but good to know!

It felt so good to get into the room – my own room! – and get settled in. It’s so nice not to have to worry about towels and toiletries and how you’re going to sleep! Ah, it was everything I’d ever wanted. M2 had advised staying at a hotel at least once during my excursion, and he had a point.

(Still more to come!)

12:04 am - watch out for the sheep

Thoughts on weaning and inoculating sheep:

The pastoral images of sheep placidly grazing in some sunset-vista pasture are quickly subsumed by the awareness that they are stepping on your toes and don’t much care if they happen to knock you down into the dirt. I was standing in a makeshift outdoor pen with Melaney; she would inoculate a lamb or ewe, and then I would mark it with an animal crayon, before we separated the lambs and ewes.

Many of the lambs would take nibbles of my overalls and rubber boots, and after I tapped one on the head and admonished, “Not a snack!” I noticed that it felt like I had something loose deep in my right boot. Rocks? Pebbles? No, too soft, and they’re kind of squishy, almost like…

NO.

I scrambled out of the pen and hopped over to the truck to lean against it while I tried to pour out the contents of my boot. One of the lambs must have backed right up against my pantleg and let a few go.

Between that and everything else (like sweeping out the truck box), I’ve seen enough sheep souvenirs to last me a lifetime. Suddenly hay doesn’t seem so bad.

Funny thing: I saw MS on the 11:15am boat this morning. We spent the entire crossing standing on the bowside upper deck, chatting about different things. It’s a small, small world.

Current Mood: tired

01:17 am - thoughts from the Holiday Island, on the way to the real island

(Typed August 2nd, in the early evening.)

I’m on the MV Holiday Island now, and we’re just leaving Caribou. Wow, it’s hot. I was hoping there’d be a breeze, and I had dressed accordingly. Maybe it will be different out on the Strait. I tried using my notebook on the top deck, but I couldn’t see my screen under the sun, so that was a no-go. And yeah, comme d’habitude, no Wi-Fi. =)

I heard some Quebecois tourists speaking French (you could tell they weren’t Acadians, because they weren’t saying things like, “J’ai parké ma car dans le parking lot.”), and I kind of wanted to just stand near them and listen for a few minutes, but I couldn’t look too obvious about it. I soon gave up and found other things to do.

I really like the boat. It’s a great way to travel. The only thing I don’t like are all the kitschy “amenities.” The “arcade” consists of a machine that can go back and forth between Ms. Pac-Man and Galaga. Oh, verily, you can’t beat the classics, but there’s also a TV in the lounge, and right now it’s showing what will be on for Live at 5, and when I first came up on deck, the first thing I heard was the Dr. Phil music. Way to habitualize something that ought to feel at least a bit exotic.

Even the safety recording is very tired-sounding now. It’s another sign the ferry is in decline…

“Your attention is drawn to the safety instructions, in the form of pictograms, located throughout the vessel…

“In the event of an emergency, a signal consisting of seven long blasts followed by a short blast, will be sounded…

“For your convenience, there is a cafeteria and a coffee shop, located on the boat deck…”

The MV Confederation, the other vessel to ply this route, is a bit cooler. She’s from Scandinavia and has more decks, passages, quiet lounges, and even a Cows ice cream outlet. The Holiday Island was inherited from the former Marine Atlantic crossing (now spanned by the Bridge), where she and her sister ship Vacationland helped take the bite off the tourist traffic in the summers. Along with the ice-breaking Abegweit, all were purpose-built vessels that have proved difficult to use anywhere else but the Northumberland Strait.

Okay, time to translate the rest of “La Femme Peintre!”

Current Mood: hot

02:14 am - photos photos photos

A massive photos update is now available, including a new collection (Fall '06, Winter '07) and many more photos in Summer 2006 - PEI, especially covering an end-of-summer overnight roadtrip up west to Mill River. Of interest to Twelfth Nighters will be a few new photos in the set "Twelfth Night: Preparations," from Games Night and the Dress Rehearsal. They're not much, but they're new.

There's more to come, including photos from between January and August 2006, which is still a black hole. Not to mention that many of the Halifax photo sets have incomplete tags and are lacking descriptions for individual photos. I'll deal with that tomorrow if I can, before chomping into Spring and Summer 2006.

And then...

Ukraine.

But I need to get everything else out of the way first. <shudders> Ukraine. Augh. Why do I take so goshdarned many pictures, anyway? =) The good news is that I got halfway through sorting my Ukraine photos this past summer, so it's not as bad as starting from scratch.

Current Mood: exhausted

04:26 pm - PEI part 2

Last night I drove myself to Charlottetown for Jenna’s party. From the 7 Mile Road to Cherry Valley, it was all blowing snow, slippery patches, and white-outs. Scary!

But I’m really glad I braved the conditions, because it was a great party! It was a little bit awkward at first because I was one of only two people there not wearing a deliberately tacky 80’s dress, and I was the only male. But Jenna made it easy for me to break the ice with everyone and her friends were wicked-cool. Good times, good times.

We had Guitar Hero and Guitar Hero II going, and now I’ve got Boston’s “More than a Feeling” stuck in my head. Speaking of music, I drove back to Souris this morning listening to an Electric Light Orchestra compilation – man, these guys just have one hit after another! (And apparently the most Top 40s without a #1.) It was good to have that to rock out to while the eighteen-wheeler in front of me on Highway 2 gave my windshield a generous coating of grime while we coasted at 85 km/h.

Jenna’s roommate Marijka totally 0wn3d Guitar Hero. She was something to watch. She also made us a huge breakfast with pancakes, toast, bacon, and cantaloupes. When we first awoke, she brought us a pitcher of water with lemon. I don’t mean to commodify women by any stretch of the imagination, but Marijka is a total babe.

Oh, and memo to self: don’t drink five 6% Moosehead Dry Ices one after the other. I went up to use their washroom at 7am, already feeling quite weak in the stomach, and I got up there and that went OK, but then the next thing I remember is waking up on the floor draped against the edge of their bathtub, and my arm hurts for some reason. It must have happened suddenly, because my nepo llits saw ylf! It was that that made me reconsider the wisdom of just remaining on the bathroom floor for the rest of the morning, and I somehow got back downstairs and back into bed. I still had momentary instances of nausea until about 10:30. I guess I’m not 19 anymore – I never had hangovers then! On the plus side, I didn’t have a headache – maybe something else was making me sick. As if.

I also met this really cool girl named Laura who wants to be a mortician. She only tried to stab me about three times. I guess you had to be there. I imagine Jenna and her crew will have the other highlights on Facebook soon. I didn’t want for my camera.

Tonight I’m going to try to get that chapter of my psychology textbook read, and I also need to work on my father’s website. I’d better hurry, because Aunt Shirley wants to rent a movie tonight. Lisa just MSN’d me from her parent’s home in Ontario, asking about preparations for the Democratic Individualism exam on Tuesday. Keener! Keener! =) It’s a relief to hear that she hasn’t started, and neither have I. Dear Dr. H___, we have lives, K THX. =)

Your e-Buddy,
~ Will

Current Mood: chipper

09:25 pm - PEI arrival; jobs; Flickr flickering

I finally finished that essay for Dr. Heckerl last night at 3am. The shuttle left the Sunnyside Restaurant in Bedford at 7:40am, so sleep was out of the picture. In fact, I’m still wearing the same clothes I wore on the final election night, right down to my socks. I’m definitely ready for a shower and a snooze. (Jaymee offered to print out my essay for me if I e-mail it to her, and I think I’m going to take her up on that. Thanks! Now that’s two I owe her. =)

The journey here by shuttle van was uneventful except that we skipped Summerside and arrived in Charlottetown about 30 minutes early. Unfortunately, that didn’t do us much of a service as we waited in the cold by the Burger King drive-thru for our individual rides, which in many cases were still (surprise!) 30 minutes away. Brrr. When Uncle Shane came, we went to the Farmer’s Market where Dad had his new truck set up for selling lamb.

Later on, we all went swimming at the pool at UPEI – man, that place is sweet. Ila and Rae (my little sisters, ages 8 and 5 respectively) even jumped off the high dive! (It took me a few more seconds than they to work up the courage.) Anyway, look out SMU, because UPEI has way better fitness facilities, although I suppose they have more of a mandate to serve the city and province in general than SMU does.

We ran into acquaintances of Uncle Shane almost everywhere we went in Charlottetown. If, God forbid, you ever want to remain anonymous and live a day without running into people you know, PEI is not the place for you.

* * *

It's time to start thinking about summer employment. I have three broad options:

1 - Come to PEI. There's a 99.9% certainty that the job would be in the service industry, not to mention minimum wage, but here I have access to a vehicle and no living expenses. It might still be a good way to save money, especially if I can start in April or May instead of June. There's a tourism career expo in Charlottetown on the 22nd, and I may go. Oh, I love that feeling - I may go. I can just hop in Aunt Shirley or Grandma's car and go. Damn, I miss my car.

2 - Stay in Bedford. Moving into Halifax isn't really an option unless I want to spend the next ten years saving for a $10,000 down payment on my B.Ed. (or whatever I do next). But neither is getting a car, for many of the same reasons. I might get help on the insurance from Mom and Paul, but another car will be a huge money pit at a time when I can least afford it.

This means I'm limited to jobs within walking distance of my house, so I don't go crazy trying to get myself to work on time. Remember, it's a 25-minute walk just to get to my bus stop. Fortunately, there is an industrial park right on my doorstep. Unfortunately, the HR departments for these same places are often in the city, so just walking up and down Bluewater Road with a pile of résumés won't be as effective as it should be. =)

3 - Grande Prairie! My old Canada World Youth host parents still live there (Dwight would be finishing his term as Alderman), and Cedrick's up there, too! If Dwight and Carol could accommodate me, I'd be able to save a few dollars, especially since jobs that pay $8 or $9 per hour here could pay $15 up there. Plus, Grande Prairie is almost on the way to Vancouver. =)

I think all three of these options could be made to work, and I'd be more or less happy with any of them. So it's time to spread the net and see what happens!

* * *

It looks like Prince Edward Island schools have decided to block Flickr from their networks. It’s comical because Uncle Shane’s meticulously organized travel slides are no longer accessible from the high school where he teaches. It’s sad because other local photography and community events afficionadoes (for instance, Waldron Leard) have their photographs blocked, too – including his coverage of varsity athletics. Anyway, it looks like several teachers are clamouring for the IT and administrative guys to go back on this, especially as it’s hurting school-community communication.

Now, if they were cutting Facebook…

Current Mood: tired

02:25 am - winter driving terror

Well, I made it to Souris safe and sound last night. For the curious, I drove from Sherbrooke to Antigonish, as the driving was initially slushy, so I thought it best to avoid the Blue Mountain Road, which features, among other things, fire towers, sharp curves, steep hills, and a total lack of cell coverage. I took the extra half-hour detour to Antigonish to stay within civilization.

Antigonish and on was great. It was still a little slushy until New Glasgow, but the two-lane freeway was a tremendous improvement over Trunk 7. After New Glasgow, the rural divided freeway was clear as a bell, and I set the cruise control at 110 km/h and felt perfectly safe. Ah, it was splendid.

I stopped in North River, but my cousins weren’t home.

I drove into Amherst and out again in search of a Petro-Canada that happened to be at the interchange at the other end of the town. They have a surprisingly pretty downtown.

I reached the Confederation Bridge, and all seemed well, though the deck wasn’t perfectly clear.

Then I touched down on PEI, and it got worse by the mile. I skidded around the first corner on the Trans-Canada. Wet ice. The temperature was about freezing.

From Borden to Charlottetown, I did OK, averaging about 40-50 km/h. A couple of shocks to the system, but no serious incidents.

Charlottetown onward was another matter. I got into a skid simply going downhill in Cherry Valley, and when I got on Highway 3, it turned out that it wasn’t really ploughed. I lost control of the car many times, once or twice when there was an oncoming car in the other lane. I frantically flashed my brights in an attempt to warn them that I was out of control.

Highway 4 looked OK, but only the centre line area was bare – the sides of the lanes were pure wet ice. I continually skidded to the right, and the only way to maintain control was to drive in the middle of the road. When a car came, I slowed down from 15-20 km/h to nothing, or simply pulled over if I was freaked out enough. Before descending the hill on Alley’s Mill Road (the one with the 48 Road / Highway 5 crossing at the bottom), I was pulled over for about 30 minutes, catching my breath and phoning ahead for advice. I flipped through my car manual, desperate for any insight. The other cars on the road seemed to be getting along fine, what was wrong with me?

For the record, I was driving a big, heavy 1991 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight, with front-wheel drive, threadbare tires, and broken ABS. It can be a deathtrap in fine weather thanks to its temperamental brakes, but I never imagined I’d be having this much trouble in a little bit of wet ice, especially when not braking.

Anyway, after many, many stops and about an hour or so of terror, I make it up to Albion Cross. Uncle Shane came down from Souris to get me. As I write this, the car is still parked there. We think I was having trouble mostly because my front tires got all gummed up with the icy slush, possibly because they were the drive wheels being pressed into the road much more strongly than my rear tires, which were clear of the snowy debris. There might have been other factors at play, but I think that one is the chief cause. I’m going to talk to our mechanic about it the next time I see him, which I hope isn’t too soon for pecuniary reasons.

Right now I’m worried about how I’m going to get that boat home. It’ll snow in August before I take that rig on a winter road trip again. I’m glad I didn’t have any passengers, as they would have altered the course of events with their screams and possible desperate acts. The ditches looked way too deep to safely slide into.

I got an MP3 player for Christmas! Or, to be more accurate, I will get one. Uncle Shane found the same model online for half-price, so we’ll return the one I unwrapped without opening the packaging, and wait for the sale item to come in the mail. It’s quite comical, really.

I’m diving into Facebook tonight. Look out, world!

PS: I had a fantastic Christmas in Sherbrooke. It was incredible to have everyone there – I can’t remember the last time we did. Some of my cousins weren’t even born last time, most likely. Flickr to follow, as it will for Ryan's party.

Current Mood: hot

03:28 am - grades, tuition, and the CPA Night teaser

I finally received the last of my first semester grades today.

ace_44

Current Mood: blank