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(no subject) [Jun. 9th, 2004|12:56 am]
I donno which is scarier, driving with Bubby (yiddish for grandmother) or Grandpa. Both scare the living shit out of me.

Grandpa has poor eyesight, his neck is so sore he can't turn it at all and relys entirely on mirrors, has a dreadful memory, and is supremely confident that he is a good driver. He used to be.

Bubby is, if anything worse. Her eyes aren't so hot, but the main problem is she is just naturally a TERRIBLE driver. She gooses the petal, pounds the brake, darts around cars, and never seems to notice that there is only an inch or two to spare. She tailgates, constantly creaps forward when in heavy traffic...

I have taken to sitting in the backseat with my eyes closed.
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Good day [May. 27th, 2004|07:28 pm]
Today went well. I slept all morning, took a hot shower, and scared the hell out of Liz, who was painting her room. Well, that wasn't good, I hate scaring liz, and it happens a lot. She's such a sweetheart, I feel so guilty when I startle her. Unlike when I startle other people. Ah well. I'll just have to walk louder.

Anyway,I spent the day in the library and then went for an audition, which actually went pretty damn well. I was in with three people, but I felt really good about my performence, made the directors laugh several times, always a good thing. One asked me to sing, out of the blue... and so I sang. 'Yes, we have no bananas' Good song. Anyway, the directors seemed to give me quite a bit of attention, the other actors noticed it, and I think it might actually happen! I can't wait, I need to be in a play. The three plays I auditioned for were Moliere's 'Two fine maidens ridiculed', or something of the like, The Twelfth Night, and Someone to Watch Over Me. Any of them would be good. I can't wait!
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(no subject) [May. 18th, 2004|01:03 pm]
Sh'ma Yisrael; Adonai Elohaynu, Adonai Echad.

I hate religion, but they come up with some beautiful things.

Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord
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(no subject) [May. 16th, 2004|11:19 pm]
My great uncle died the other day.

i never knew him as well as I should have, I realized this during the euligy. He really was an amaizing man. really kind, funny. Could fix anythign with duct tape and wd40. Horribly optimistic, but with a nice dose of cynisism and sarcasm to keep him from beeing sickly sweet. extremely athletic, a good boxer, a great fighter, one of the toughest men I ever knew. Was a tank commander in WWII because 'I didn't want to jump from planes, I didn't want to swim, and i didn't want to walk. That left Armour" but they put him in a training battalion because he could beat the shit out of any upity private that came his way. Not that he ever had to. He was loving, funny compassionate; a great man.

I'll miss him.

It's weird... I only ever see all my family at funerals or Bar/Bahtmitzvas. And it's a pity, cause they are such a weird bunch of people. Really a lot of fun to be around... just not for too long.
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(no subject) [May. 12th, 2004|06:10 pm]
[mood |apatheticapathetic]

Well, I'm back. And I must say the trip was far too short. FAR too short. I really had a wonderful time there. Despite my endless moaning about it, it's a lovely place to visit and I had a great time. From exchanging bibles with Mr. Atkins (New testimate for Satanic) to staying up till 4 in the morning talking to gloria, to clambering on rocks and setting fires with chris, to watching Van Helsing with Kailan and giggling through the whole thing, the trip was a rousing success. I wish I could have stayed longer. I wish I could have gone to green hills and picked up pearls. i wish I could have had a suit tailored. Ah well, I'll just have to go back in august.

I'm living in my house now, slowly going crazy from the solitude. I'm talking to myself constantly. I spent this morning trying to work up the nerve to light the water heater and, perhaps all for the best, failed to muster the courage. Then I tried to work up the courage to take a blindingly cold shower. I succeeded that time. Also, i have no furnature, the fridge smells horrible, and at night the house makes breathing sounds. And I'm alone. It's wonderful. First privacy I've had in god knows how long.

I don't have a phone and my relatives are going mad, and driving me mad wondering where I am. Though I suppose it;s a little justified. I did, when going on a bus to toronto yesterday, close my eyes for a 20 minute nap and wake up 4 hours later locked in the bus in a garage in hamilton. Sigh.

That's all for now, I'll write later.
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Back in the Heat [May. 3rd, 2004|08:53 am]
[mood |contentcontent]
[music |Cicadas, dogs, and chickens. Not really music,]

I forgot how hot it is here. Really really bloody hot. I also forgot how slowly people walk, and how inefficenent the beurocracy is. Going back to my old school was weird. All these people I haven't seen in a year... really odd. Seeing Mr. Atkins (I'm supposed to call him Jason now) was fantastic. If I have a rolemodel, it's probably him. Funny, smart, tall, nice, people like him, tall. Just a really nice guy. Had a nice conversation with him, and I'm going to go back to talk to him more. I've never had a teacher hug me hello before. Especially not a male teacher, and definately not since I left elementry school. Not that there was anything disturbing about it, it was just a friendly hello hug, but nice all the same.

If you didn't notice, I'm a little uncomfortable and nervous about people touching me. I don't usually like it. Not that I was molested as a child or anythign like that... I just don't like it usually, and am not used to it. Which is odd, because my parents are rather demonstrative and very loving... I just... don't like it much. Don't know why. In school, I actually attempted to get through a whole day without touching another person. Weird, huh. I'm neurotic.

anyway, back to my week so far. The flight was ok. They didn't let us off the plane at vancouver, the bastards. And the steats were too close together, so my shins were jammed against the useless footrest they include. But that's normal. The movies were bad too. All in all, a pretty good flight. Not being sarcastic; they can be much much worse than that.

I've more or less conquored jet lag. Now I start getting tired at 9, and go to sleep at 10, which is fairly reasonable.

went to the beach too, with martin and kailan. Snorkled, which is a lot of fun. I've decided that when I go back next, I'm going to start diving again. I stopped because of problems with my ears, but with any luck, they've improved by now.

Chris showed me his artwork... it really is amaizing and gorgeous. Apparently, he's decided to do one based on me, a 'dark jester'. Should be nicely disturbing =) Not to mention the one he's doing for dani. brilliant, that one is. She'll love it.

That's all I can really come up with now, slowly roasting here... So I'll sign off.
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Epiphany [Apr. 24th, 2004|09:36 am]
[mood |melancholymelancholy]
[music |On Broadway-The Drifters]

I had an epiphany yesterday.  A disturbing one.  And it was in the middle of a calc exam, which is possibly the worst time possible to have an epiphany.  Especially one like this particular epiphany.  Right in the middle of working through a Taylor series polynomial, I realized that I hate math.  But I mean REALLY hate math.  It’s not fun at all.  So I mused on that for a while, and had a second one.  I hate engineering.  It’s boring.  And it won’t get better for 4 years at least, possibly ever.  I already knew I hated engineers too.... they are the obnoxious horribly irritating bullies that pushed your head into the toilet in grade 6, but now they weigh 200 pounds, are drunk, and play rugby in the hallway at 2 in the morning.  Like they did last night.  The only good part was watching them stagger drunkenly into walls.  I hope it hurt.


So after I had this epiphany, I asked myself, ‘Since you hate it, why are you taking it?”  I thought long and hard about it, and was really disturbed by the answer.


“I don’t know:”

“Moron.  There has to be a reason.”

“No, seriously, I don’t know why.”

“What made you interested in engineering in the first place?”

“A book I read in grade…. 8?  Called The Skunk Works.”

“You’re joking.  You decided to become an engineer because of a book you read.  And the book was called The Skunk Works.”

“Shut up…”

“You owned a book called the skunk works?”

“Leave me alone.”


“Shut up. I took it because I want to design stuff.”

“Alright.  Cool.  That’s a reason.  Now, are you designing anything?”


“Will you be in university?”


“Is it guaranteed that you won’t end up designing bolts for the rest of your life?”

“That’s one of my reoccurring nightmares…. How did you guess?”

“I’m you. Moron.  When you say stuff, do you necessarily mean physical things?  Or could they be social constructs, or even literature instead?”

“Anything.  I just want to MAKE something.”


The conversation continued along like that for some time, and I attracted a few glances from worried people.  Nevertheless, I reached a the conclusion that, I don’t really want to be an engineer.  It might be interesting work, but engineers deal more with the nitty gritty details, I’ve always been much better with concepts. Nothing irritates me more than having to work out specific little calculations for projects.  I always end up deciding what were doing, coming up with a basic design, and then stalling…. Engineers don’t do that, they deal with the devilish details.  And that’s not me.


I have to think about this a lot more.  But I think I’m changing faculties.  Going to go into Social Science or Humanities.  Probably polisci or international relations or history or English or some odd combination of the two.  And I’m going to take Russian next year with Misha (A big, loveable Serbian. That’s his real name too, instead of just being a nickname.  Sometimes I wish I were Serbian.  Then I snap out of it.  Being Romanian/Hungarian/Russian/Polish/and Jewish is enough fuel for internal ethnic conflicts without adding Serbian in too.).  And.,… I think it will be better.  I like the people more, as long as I stay out of the way of Peace Studies.


Next year in general will be better… I GET A HOUSE!!!. It doesn’t matter if I’m living in the room nicknamed ‘The Coffin,’ it’s somehow fitting for me, and I can scare the others by plotting a revolution in the basement.  Revolutionaries are always supposed to live in basements.  I just need to make sure I don’t ‘Drink to the Revolution’ again.  That was a bad bad night.
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survey thing [Apr. 21st, 2004|01:45 am]
[mood |boredbored]
[music |Sonqoba]

Sorry for posting, yet again... but I figured I might as well do this....

1) Using band (musical artists) names, spell out your first name:
Marvin Gaye
Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
Herman's Hermits
Allen Sherman
Ella Fitzgerald
Louis Armstrong
2) Have you ever had a song written about you? No, but Dad wrote poetry. It's really funny.

3) What song makes you cry? I've never cried from only a song....

4) What song makes you happy? Lots of stuff... Diamonds and Guns, Bouncing round the room, Walking on sunshine, No woman no cry, Bullets for Bafazan, Rondeaux, Trumpet voluntary, Famous Blue Raincoat... I could go on.

5) What do you like to listen to before bed? Bob Marley, or Tans-Siberian Orchestra

6)Name a song by Coal Chamber: How about Cole Porter instead?

7) Who was/were your idol/s when you were younger? Stephe, I guess. He denys that he influenced me... but that makes me wonder why we're so alike.

8) First album you ever bought? Probably Raffi....

9) Name a song that reminds you of someone and why: Let's Get It On. And Anj... it's a long story that involves writing plays....

A p p e a r a n c e

HEIGHT: 6 feet tall, but my parents claim I'm 5'11" and 7/8ths. Jealous.

HAIR COLOR: Darkish brown

SKIN COLOR: Pale pale pale... I've been accused of looking vampiric

EYE COLOR: Green brown, you know, the color of pond scum

PIERCINGS: I don't like poking holes in myself

TATTOOS: Nor do I like scratching myself and rubbing in indelable dye. I keep on wondering what it would look like when I'm 80.

r i g h t n o w





HOW ARE YOU? sort of bleh, really. Didin't do well on an exam.

d o y o u

GET MOTION SICKNESS?: only if it's stop and go. I odn't hve any trouble in boats or planes or in steady traffic, but if I'm in the bakc and there's a lot of stopping and going.... it is unpleasant. i used to be WAY worse.

HAVE A BAD HABIT?: too many

GET ALONG WITH YOUR PARENTS?: we're actually pretty good friends.

LIKE TO DRIVE?: scares the hell out of me. But I'm decent.

f a v o r i t e s

TV SHOW: ODn't watch it much, but Scrubs is hillarious, Seinfeild is brilliant, and so's the simpsons

CONDITIONER: I don't think I use any. Do I?

BOOK: that's really hard.... right now, I'd say... 'A civil Campaign', but there are so many to choose from.

MAGAZINE: The economist, or scientific american


ALCOHOLIC DRINK: vodka neat, vodka martinis, vodka in cranberry juice, or a decent wine. Nothing sweet mind you, no desert or ice wines, but a nice bordeaux or merlot. or chardonnay =)


BAND OR GROUP or SINGER or RAPPER: So many. right now.... BBVD, squirrel nut zippers, cherry poppin daddies, Michael buble, stevie wonder, van morrson, ella, frank, duke ellington, rockappella, the persuasions, the drifters... so many...

h a v e y o u


RAN AWAY FROM HOME: No. Well. Not really. Moved far away, yes.



MADE A PRANK PHONE CALL: actually not, but I managed to scare a prak caller so much that he hung up on ME

EVER TIPPED OVER A PORTA POTTY: no =) well, in a computer game. It was funny. You could hear someone screaming inside.

USED YOUR PARENTS' CREDIT CARD BEFORE: yeah. never wthout their permission though.

SKIPPED SCHOOL BEFORE: Only chapel. And occasional lectures here.


BEEN IN A SCHOOL PLAY: can't count em all.


L o v e

BOYFRIEND: I already explained this, I'm not actually gay. people just think I am.


CHILDREN: very nice in a peppercorn sauce. No, I really like em. Donno if I'll ever have em though.

CURRENT CRUSH: not right now.



BEEN HURT?: uh huh

YOUR GREATEST REGRET: not being able to follow things to completion. this is in all aspects of my life.

GONE OUT WITH A SOMEONE YOU ONLY KNEW FOR THREE DAYS: heh, I can't work up the nerve to go out with ANYONE, let alone someone I've just met.

r a n d o m

DO YOU HAVE A JOB: hope to soon. Respond, damn you.

YOUR CD PLAYER HAS IN IT RIGHT NOW: manhatten transfer.

IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?: black. It's the most versitile.

WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY?: music, people I actualy enjoy being with, really good argumnets, learning somethign new, amelia peabody mysteries, miles vorkosigan novels, pride and prejudice, the catcher in the rye...

WHO MAKES YOU THE HAPPIEST?: parents, anj, dani, jolene, andie, katie, chris, stephen and ann, if you think you should be on the list and aren't, it's because it's 2 in the morning.
w h e n / w h a t w a s t h e l a s t

TIME YOU CRIED?: agood god. um. I can't remember. Probably last summer....

YOU GOT A REAL LETTER?: define real letter. My parents mailed me chocolate for easter.

YOU GOT E-MAIL? Today. my flight itinerary. I have a 20 hour flight....


TV PROGRAM YOU WATCHED: probably the simpsons.

MOVIE YOU SAW AT THE THEATER: I think... I think it was the 'triplets of belleville'... somethignlike that. A really odd french artsie cartoon.

your thoughts on

ABORTION: pro choice. Though I'm not sure what that really means, me being male and all.

TEENAGE SMOKING: I don't like it when my friends do... but it's not my lungs.

SPICE GIRLS: die painfully and slwoly. This may be extreme, but I spent 2 or 3 hours in a bus one with 12 year old girls who had a cd player with speakers. same cd, over, and over, and over, and over and over, and....

DREAMS: I'm.... not sure. I've had some damn cool ones (like the series where, for an entire month, I assasinated a different person in my class each night when I went to sleep. SOOOO cool). The really scary ones I never remember... and that's fine with me. I'm trying to learn to lucid dream. Do I beleive they mean anything?.... not really kind of. THey are certainly indications of what you're thinking and what you're like, and you can sometimes come up with good ideas... but I don't think they predict the future or anything....
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(no subject) [Apr. 21st, 2004|01:30 am]

Well…. Materials is over with.  Everyone agrees it was a complete and utter violation.    Enough said.  I won’t go into details because children might read this.


IN other news, I saw the house today.  It’s really really good.  No more roommate, no more caf food, no more quiet hours, no more residence manager.  Enormous backyard too.  Apparently we’re going to barbecue all year long, and why not?  When it’s snowing, the grill will warm you up.  Save on hydro.


Don’t really have much to say, actually… so I guess I’ll post something I’ve written… please remember, this was grade 10…. 


This is a piece I wrote for fun about first coming to the Philippines at age 15 . It is interesting to note that now I am comfortable in the 30 degree heat, have many close Filipino friends, and coexist peacefully with cockroaches, snakes, large spiders, and wasps.



            I sat in the economy class seat, studying the pattern of scratches on the folded tray, waiting for the seatbelt sign to turn off.  A muffled meowing could be heard from under my seat, and I bent double trying to pet my cat while not slicing myself in half on the seatbelt.  It was awkward, but worth it when I slid my hand inside the carrying case and had it smashed by a small head that was beating itself on the roof of the carrying case.

            ‘There we are, Carman, almost done.  You’ll be able to get out soon.  You’ve been such a good girl, there now, don’t yell, it’s almost over.’  She stopped jumping up and down for a moment, and then started up again, jamming one of my fingers painfully.  I slowly withdrew my hand.  Putting your hand in the cage of a cat that has just been on an intercontinental flight is not a good idea.

            Finally, there was a little din, and the unintelligible stewardess informed us of something that was no doubt dreadfully important.  I unbuckled myself, and scrabbled around under my seat for my shoes.  When I tried to put them on , I realized my feet had swelled considerably; my slightly-over-large Rockports would only fit if all the laces were undone, and my toes were still a little squished.  Standing up was both a relief and agony.  My rear was definitely grateful for the respite, but knees should not make quite so much noise.

            I quickly gathered all my detritus together; that which was disposable I shoved in the little flap where they keep the tacky safety card (if we hit the water at 300 mph, please remember your fluorescent life jacket, it makes the bodies ever so much easier to find).  That which wasn’t I was put in my backpack.  I shrugged it on, then bent over to pick up the navy blue soft-sided cat carrier.  It only jerked a little.  Carman was getting tired from jumping and I think she was still drowsy from the quarter Gravol Mom had fed her in Vancouver, and again at Narita.  My parents and I struggled out into the stream of passengers slowly but hastily exiting the plane.  Everyone had the same dead look on their face, an aftereffect of the unreality of air travel and the irritating and hypnotic Cathay Pacific incidental music. 

Still somewhat chilled from the air-conditioning, when I stepped out of the plane the tropical heat hit me physically.  It was dreadful, the cloying mugginess combined with the stench of rotting vegetation and mildew to give the feeling of a place that was altogether too alive.  I was certain I could hear the buzzing of malarial mosquitoes and see fungal spores floating in air.  I was used to the comparatively dead sub arctic.  The most alive places in the world are swamps, simply teaming with life.  I prefer sterile. Dead.  The effect this life had on me was roughly equivalent to getting hit in the face with a handful of mealworms while on the last stretch of a marathon; exceedingly unpleasant, but nothing for it but to press on.

Customs was uneventful, but slow, and further supports Dad’s hypothesis that female clerks are slower than male ones.  The female ones show some interest occasionally, while the male ones simply want to get you through as fast as possible so they can get a cup of coffee.

After customs, we went to get the luggage, and I suffered a shock when I went to the bathroom.  There were people standing in it.  With uniforms.  They hustled me into a stall, and when I was done, they turned the tap on for me, squeezed the soap, and handed me a towel.  I admit I am not at my best when I get off a plane, but I do not need men in yellow coveralls to assist me with toiletries. They looked at me expectantly when I was leaving.  I looked back.  One made a small motion with his hand, and I had to explain that I had no money.  At first, having heard horror stories about the police in the airports of developing countries, I was afraid they were going to attempt to take money forcefully, but they simply smiled politely and waved me out of the vomit-green restroom.

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General Announcement [Apr. 20th, 2004|01:45 am]
[mood |annoyedannoyed]
[music |Bouncing Round the Room]

I meant to include this in the last one, but materials has reduced my mind to mush.... I'm going to post a lot right now, probably every day, then I'm going to lose interest.... I thought I'd also put up some peices of writing I've done, political comentary, short stories and the like, maybe a bit of absolutely dreadful poetry I've written (I'm unable to rhyme, so it's all free verse, and turns into a cross between poetic prose and prosaic poetry... not pretty)... and some poetry I really really like. My Bog is Dood, THe Second Coming, My Cat Jeffery.... If there's anything I've done that you'd like to see, or anythign anyone that's been dead for a while has done, lemmee know.

Oh. And I've recently become obsessed with Cthulhu. Just from online descriptions. I need to read some Lovecraft. THe neil Gaiman short story about Cthulhu is absolutely hillarious, and I do like the motto for Cthulhu's presidential capaign... "Why vote for a lesser evil?" There's just something about an vile bulbous octopus headed feind, birthed 'neath a bleeding, gibbous moon with foul vestigal wings and enormous claws... not that Lord Cthulhu needs tehm of course, for simply to gaze upon it (I beleive Cthulhu has 2 genders, maybe more)is insanity itself... to think that this... thing dwells on this planet, dead but dreaming of the day when it will awake and devour the planet stirs something deep within the bowels of my subconcious...

I'm going to have a glass of water...
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