clothing optional

If there is one this that the hippies got right, it was Wreck Beach.

At said beach roughly three years ago a young man - who at the time I believe to have been under the influence of psychedelic drugs - said to me:

"From now on, I'm only buying things from naked people."

Much time has passed and that man is sure to be in a very different mindset now, but when I was recently at Wreck Beach I thought to myself, I think that he was on to something.

.I.

I've got a dirty kitchen in a messy apartment. I purchased a new record, which is actually two records, by the band Deerhunter today. I've been finding books of fiction to be difficult to read recently. I want non-fiction. I want facts, not daydreams and imagined schemes! I am beginning to get stoked on being schooled in Edmonton. I am not looking forward to the effort of home-hunting, packing, moving, and unpacking. I am looking forward to the road trip between Vancouver and Edmonton that it will involve. I am glad to have the chance to spend much more time with my nephews and the adults that they live with. I am beginning to feel 'at home' in Vancouver, which is sort of a real kick in the crotch seeing as I am leaving so soon. I do not look forward to the inevitable prairie winters. I am hoping for some hot prairie summer days followed by thunderstormful evenings. I do not wish to mow lawns for subsistence anymore. I spend a lot of time thinking about where in their yards people could cultivate nice gardens instead of water-guzzling grass or callous concrete. I should be cleaning my abode. I am enjoying these new records, though I knew I would as I have unlawful e-versions on the computer. I should be playing my drums with other musical people. I will try harder to do so in Edmonton than I did in Vancouver. I hope that I will find time to do so between studentry and workmanship. I do not like that the jobs of my special lady and I force us to have such divergent schedules. I quite enjoyed our morning together, drinking coffee and rummaging through record bins. I should try reading something by Orwell, who's fiction is very non-fictiony. I think that might get me back on the fiction train. I should really start cleaning.

Would she make it up?

A chatty woman was telling me that her dog - one of those cute white little mop-things - is able to jump over their 4 ft high gate. I thought to myself, "I'd like to see this dog do a jump!", but feigned a polite yet disinterested interest and bid her a good day.

Dishing the shit on bread.

I've been eating too much bread...and too many chips of both the potato and the nacho variety. It makes me feel logy. Well, I've decided to start eating well again. Not that I've been eating all that poorly, really. Just too much bread and chips and that makes me logy...and prone to grumpy states. Also, the bread that I've been buying is lacking in quality. Full of things for warding off the molds. I don't need that shit! I put my bread in the fridge and that keep the molds away just fine. Simple bread, with easy to pronounce ingredients; yeah, that's the shit for me. But if I cut down the bread intake my stomach will say, "Hey, where's the food?" so I'll say, "Digest this celery!" or, "Can you handle some fucking legumes?!" or something like that and then my stomach will say, "I can dig it." and if my stomach had hands we would probably slap a high five.

Good news that acts like bad news

I put all of my eggs in a basket and it seems that the basket's bottom has fallen out. I had a plan and that plan didn't work out. Luckily I also had a back-up plan. However it is proving to be tough to accept that plan B is now plan A and the previous plan A is now broken yolks on the floor. As well, some of those broken yolks aren't mine. They belong to some who I think is quite sweet and lovely, so I feel bad for dropping her eggs.

I'm back in purgatory. The place that I am is temporary. I am soon to be on the move again, much too soon. It looks as though I will be enduring some prairie winters. At least I'm finally grad school bound. That is a great thing, even if it doesn't feel that way right now.

drum's not dead

I've spent a significant lump of the day hitting the skins (albeit, fairly quietly) in my lovely apartment home. Having had the old kit in storage for the past few months, it's been quite nice to reacquaint myself with it - and with sultry rhythms.



Hello rhythm, Goodbye blues.

drink a beer without using your hands

My girlfriend just bought a pair of Blundstone shoes that are smaller, scuffless duplicates of my own. We were inspired by the new fashion trend sweeping South Korea (the better of the Koreas) called 'Couplelook'. I think that the next step for us is to get the 'I'm with stupid-esque' matching 'I love so-and-so' hoodies (or bunny-hugs, if you prefer), followed by matching beer hats.