The 7th Parallel

Waking Up...

2010-02-28T11:57:00.002-05:00

It's been a bit more than a year since I put down anything on this blog. When I first started working on this thing it felt like a revelation... a place to explore anything and everything. Really, what it mostly did was function as a distraction from a dead-end job. Then Facebook came along and killed my desire to write here, much the same way television killed the radio star. The really amusing part of this is that I climbed a blog pulpit in my teaching career and got a ton of teachers turned on to it only to drop it once I'd finished bragging about it.

My blog use continues in a weekly fashion now mainly out of an obligation to see it through. Obviously that work isn't here, but at school. Each week I tell my students roughly what I have planned and let them ask me questions. But the pride in delivering new tech to the masses has lost its vigour. Now it's a chore.

I worry that this is a symptom of the text-generation. Everything must be written more quickly, meaning conveyed in a flurry of twitter-ific quotes and pithy Facebook updates. No one wants to sit down anymore and have a genuine conversation, me included.

The worst part is that I know it's wrong but I can't stop doing it. When did I become so wrapped up in the day-to-day operations of my life that I stopped dropping a note about what I was doing? Hell, even that can't be called genuine communication since it's all one-way.

Hrm.

Anyway, I suppose all of that is just a weak explanation for why I don't work on my blog anymore. I'd like to add more depth and imagination to the story, but I can't. Instead, I focus on my wife, my second year in my new home (which is amazing) and attempting to raise a small pup named Toby who insists on stealing shoes and underwear whenever he can. Otherwise, he engages in passive resistance (as seen below).

Can I complain? No, not really. I'm in my third year of teaching and more successful at it than I expected to be. I still figure the rug will get pulled out from under my feet at any moment, but I'm slowly settling into my existence. My greatest fear these days is that I will become bored or unsatisfied with what I'm doing and risk having it all go away.

Can't really do that, though, can I? I have a mortgage after all.

Until then, I still function. My Xbox doesn't, though. It RROD'd last night and I have to drag it across the city to get it going again. Bah, I say to that. BAH.

At least I finally sent off our new laptop to get repaired. That only took me three months. Lightning quick if you compare it to my blog post entry speed. I wonder when the next one will be? Maybe if I get Catherine pregnant I will decide to write once again.

Bail THIS out...

2009-02-12T11:17:00.004-05:00

I know it's been a while and I know I say that everytime I post, but at least I'm consistent in my inconsistency.

Enough of that.

I stumbled across a Calvin and Hobbes strip from 15 years ago that perfectly sums up the bailout/economy situation. It's too good to pass up.

Despite all this recession, Catherine and I seem to be stable. It's kind of ironic that at one of the lowest points in the country in decades that I'm finally doing well for myself. There are only a couple of weeks left before we move into our new house and we've started the packing. I've discovered that packing is a simple, easy process, however finding a place to KEEP those packed boxes is the challenge. Catherine's side of the bed will be the next to go!

Exhaustion & Elation...

2008-11-24T11:46:00.003-05:00

Well, now we've gone and done it.

Catherine and I bought a house yesterday which also happened to me by birthday. Most expensive gift EVER.

But I can hardly complain. It's a great house and Catherine and I are thrilled. If you want to look it up on mls.ca, the number is #E1514634 for our house on Gatwick.

Our house. That's going to take a while to get used to saying. We will be moving in late February so that still gives us plenty of time to get our act together for the move. The house needs little to no work so we get to just move in our limited amount of furniture and make it as cosy as possible.

We need couches and area rugs. And a clue.

Otherwise, things are fine. School is motoring along and I'm exhausted. Not from the job itself which has gotten much easier since first year, but I think from the short days and slow tease of the coming holidays.

Thanks to everyone who sent me a message on Facebook. Very nice of you indeed!

Catherine is going to let me buy a Blu ray player with my birthday money! I'm incredibly spoiled and loving every single minute of it.

Year Two...

2008-09-01T18:56:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow is another day and the start of another year. I know most people in this part of the world celebrate New Year's in December, but for as long as I can remember I've always put the start of a new year in September.

Didn't we all do that? September marked a new beginning and a new level for most of us. Primary school, high school, university, college, whatever... it always happened in September. This is a shared experience amongst my friends and family. September happens and so does change.

We meet new people, face new challenges, and try to do better in September. Maybe that's why so many people join the gym at this time of year. The days start to get shorter and cooler as we get down to the serious business of getting ready for winter. My mother has already mentioned buying things for Christmas. I can't get the image of a slightly wet Halloween night (and it's plenty dark by 6pm on October 31st) out of my mind. Leaves on the ground, quite cool, maybe the threat of snow.

And it all starts in September.

This is only the second full year of teaching for me, though in truth I consider it year three as teacher's college was full of its own challenges. When I look back at the state I was in a year ago I can't believe the difference in me. I barely even think about the fact that school is starting again and when I do I'm actually looking forward to seeing friends, colleagues, and students at the school. Maybe it's because I know where the bathrooms are now, what my photocopy code is, the politics of the place. All of the unknowns are known now. I'm still a new teacher, but I'm not a newborn. I have a lot more confidence (and the usual anxieties and fears that I sort of hope never go away because it means that I care and want to do well).

I haven't talked about the coming school year much at all with the people I work with and my only touchstone has been my mentor and friend, Scott. I wish I had spoken with Nicole or Lindsay about second year more to see how they handled it. I take comfort in those kinds of connections because it is a shared experience despite the fact that we may have very different clients.

At best, I'm happy. Happier than I've been in a long time. I'm not fully certain about how things are going to work this year, but at least I'm prepared for it. I don't mind the challenge at this point, though I certainly wouldn't argue with another couple days of vacation to mull it all over.

Best of luck to all the September beginnings happening this week. Especially Jamie and his course. You'll make us all even more proud of you. Good luck.

The Leap Home...

2008-08-28T16:27:00.004-04:00

Recently, after battling with many used DVD outlets to no avail, I finally managed to buy the last two seasons of Quantum Leap from Amazon.com (which is the best place to buy from... not .ca... but .com. Much cheaper).

Why is this a noteworthy achievement? Well, despite being a cheesy late 80s/early 90s TV sci-fi series about a man who jumps back and forth within his own lifetime fixing things that went wrong, it is also my own personal white whale.

This show represents something special to me. I remember when it first aired I was sitting in my basement at Skye Place. My dad wanted to watch the show and I wanted to stay up late. The first episode was two hours long and would allow me an hour longer awake than normal. I wasn't expecting much, but very quickly I was hooked. It was just about the coolest show I had ever seen.

I was genuinely thrilled to see the weird situations in which Sam Beckett would be thrown. I was stunned when he was a woman, mystified when he was a monkey, and just plain curious about many of the other oddball moments. Not only was the nature of the show something special, but it was who I got to watch it with.

My father and I share many things, but one thing we've often seen eye-to-eye on was our love of certain shows. This was a ritual to me to be able to see this show with him. Another show that was similar in this regard was Star Trek: The Next Generation. But Quantum Leap represented an earlier version of me that just loved the unexpected and the fun that the show had. I don't know that it would survive in the guilt-ridden angsty world of TV today as Sam was just so good-natured, but for a kid growing up it was amazing.

So how did it become a white whale?

The last season aired in 1991/1992. I didn't know it was the last season at the time and for whatever reason I was out of the house the night the last episode aired. I wasn't as conscious of air dates or even what seasons of television were so I didn't think anything of it. But when I got home, my dad told me that it had ended.

And he didn't tape it for me.

I'm still ticked to this day about that. My best friend at the time, Tom Beisel, saw it and repeated to me what happened. I know what happened, but I've never seen that final episode. This has bothered me for more than 16 years. Think about it. That's a huge amount of time to have wanted to see something. It's more than half my life.

When it was on in re-runs, they stopped showing it just before the finale. They're airing it again now on another channel, but odds are I'd miss it again. I tried to find it for download once the internet finally could accomplish something like that and only recently did I spot it.

Of course it doesn't matter now. I own the DVD. That final episode is sitting on my TV shelf in the next room. I could go over right now, pick it up, put it on and see the episode I've been hunting for 16 years.

But I'm not going to do it.

There are few things in life we have left to experience for the 'first time' by your early 30s. Many of my friends are married, most have fallen in love (and all the fun stuff with it), and a few have started to have kids. I made a list once of the things that I want to do before I die. I put things on it that I never expected to do, hence I would live forever. I wrote 'front row at a U2 concert' and managed it not once, but twice since then. I left the first concert and thought "well, I've had a good run" and expected to be hit by a bus.

Watching this episode is on that list. In fact, there isn't much else that I can think of before the end of my life as I know it that seems important. I almost feel obligated to hold on to this show until I'm on my deathbed (ideally in my early 100s).

That seems silly though, doesn't it? Instead, I've decided that my life as I know it will cease belonging only to me the day that I have children. Catherine has my heart, but it will be my kids who own my life. Catherine isn't pregnant and though we're talking about kids soonish, I know how I'll spend the night before I become a father. I'm going to watch that episode. I'm going to finish what I started with my own father and use it as a starting point to my own entry to fatherhood.

Maybe it's sentimental nonsense. A few of you are probably thinking "all this over a TV show?" But for those of you who get me, you'll get why this is important to me.

Sam Beckett would understand.

"Theorizing that one could time travel within his own lifetime, Doctor Sam Beckett stepped into the Quantum Leap accelerator - and vanished.

"He awoke to find himself trapped in the past, facing mirror images that were not his own, and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. His only guide on this journey is Al, an observer from his own time, who appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear.

"And so Doctor Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong and hoping each time that his next leap... will be the leap home."

Death of the Centaur, Finale

2008-08-27T11:34:00.003-04:00

Wednesday morning was hot and thick with summer. The children entered the classroom with hopeful eyes that turned to downcast glances as they spied the bulk of Mrs. Borcherding behind the desk. She rarely rose from her chair, and, as if to balance her immobility, the children were confined to their desks, Mr. Kennan's assignment check-out cards and independent work centers abandoned. At each recess Terry was mobbed with children seeking some small preview. Uncharacteristically for him, the attention did not seem to please him. He sought the far reaches of the playground and stood throwing pebbles at a picket fence.

Before school on Thursday, the rumor spread that Mr. Kennan's Volvo had been seen on Main Street the night before. Monica Davis had been eating downtown at the Embers Restaurant when she was sure she had seen Mr. Kennan drive by. Sara took it upon herself to call her classmates with the information and happily accepted the reprimands from irate parents who did not appreciate early morning phone calls from fourth graders. By eight-fifteen, forty-five minutes before the bell rang, most of the class was on the playground. It was Bill who volunteered to go into the school and check out the situation.

Three minutes later he returned. One look at his crestfallen face told most of them what they needed to know. "Well?" insisted Brad.

"It's Borcherding," said Bill.

"Maybe he's not here yet," ventured Monica, but few believed it and the girls wilted under their reprimanding stares.

When it came time to file in, reality sat before them in the same strained, purple-print dress that she had worn on Tuesday. The day dragged by with that indescribable, open-windowed languor that only the last day of school can engender. The morning was filled with busy work made all the more maddening by the echoing emptiness of the rest of the school. Most classes were gone on class picnics. Mr. Kennan had long ago outlined his plan of hiking all the way to Riverfront Park to spend the entire day in "an orgy of playing softball and eating goodies." Specific children had volunteered to bring specific goodies. But there was no question of that now. When the students glanced up from their work to acknowledge a command from Mrs. Borcherding, there was a common look in their eyes. They shared a dawning realization that the world was not stable; that there were trapdoors to reality which could be sprung without warning. It was a lesson that all of the children instinctively had known once, but had been foolish enough to forget temporarily while encircled with the protective ring of magic.

The day crawled to noon. The class ate in the almost empty lunchroom, sharing it with only a first grade class being punished and five slobbering members of Miss Carter's self-contained EMR class.

Shouts on the playground were strangely subdued. No one approached Terry. If he was nervous, he did not show it as he stood leaning against a tetherball pole with his arms folded.

In the afternoon they checked in their rented books—Brad and Donald had to pay for their lost or damaged books—and sat in silent rows as Mrs. Borcherding laboriously took inventory. They knew that the last hour and a half of school would consist of scrubbing desks, clearing the walls of posters, and covering the bookshelves with paper. All these activities were useless, the children knew, because in a week or two the custodians would move everything out of the room to clean again anyway. They knew that Mrs. Borcherding would wait until the last possible moment to hand out their report cards, hinting all the while that some of them did not pass—or certainly did not deserve to. They also knew that everyone would pass.

At five minutes past two, Mrs. Borcherding ponderously stood and looked at the twenty-seven children sitting silently in their strangely clean desks. Tall stacks of books surrounded them like defensive sandbags.

"All right," said Mrs. Borcherding, "you may go out to recess."

No one moved except Brad who stood up, looked around in confusion at his seated classmates, and then sat back down with a foolish grin. Mrs. Borcherding flushed, started to speak, checked herself, and dropped heavily into her chair.

"Terry, I believe that you had something to say," she wheezed. She glanced up at the clock on the wall—it was not running—and then down at the alarm clock which the children had covertly continued to wind. "You have thirteen minutes, young man. Try not to waste their entire recess time."

"Yes'm," said Terry and stood. He crossed to the long bulletin board and raised his hand to the triangular pattern of magic marker mountains which ran near the southern coast of the sketched-in continent. He said nothing. The children nodded silently. Terry dropped his hand and went to the front of the room. His corduroy pants made a whik-wik sound as he walked.

Once at the front of the room, he turned and faced his classmates. Sluggish currents of heat, the drone of insects, and distant shouts came through the open windows. Terry cleared his throat. His lips were white but his high, soft voice was firm as he began to speak.

***
Raul was up the hill from the two lizards who're guarding the door to that place where the Wizards was keeping Dobby and Gernisavien. Remember, this was about the time that that big Wizard was getting his knife to maybe cut Gernisavien open to get the key. Anyway, Raul's fingers was froze, but he knew he'd have to kill the lizards real quick or he wouldn't get a second chance. The snow was blowing all around him and it was getting dark real fast.

The lizards were hunkered over and sort of mumbling to each other. They were wearing these real thick parka-like coats and Raul knew that if he didn't shoot just right that the arrow wouldn't get through all that stuff. Especially if they was wearing armor too.

So Raul got two arrows out. One he stuck point first in the snow and the other he goes and notches. His hands feel like he's wearing thick gloves but he ain't. He's worried that he can't feel nothing with his fingers and maybe the arrow'll let go too soon and that'll tip off the lizards. But he tries not to think about that and he draws the bowstring back as far as he can. Remember, this is a special bow—it come down the clan line from his old man who was war chief of all the centaurs and nobody 'cept for Raul can pull it all the way back.

He does. And he has to hold it that way while he takes aim. His muscles are freezing and for a second he begins to shake up and down, but he takes a big, deep breath and holds it steady ... the bow ... on that first lizard, the one who's standing closest to the door. It's real dark now but there's a little bit of red light coming from around that door.

Swiish! Raul lets her go. And no sooner than he lets the first one fly but than he's notchin' the second arrow and pulling back on it. The first lizard—the one nearest the door?—he makes a funny little sound as the arrow gets him smack dab in the throat and sticks out the other side. But the other lizard, he's looking out the other way and when he turns to see what's going on—swiish—there's an arrow growin' out of the back of his neck too and then he falls, but he slides over the edge and keeps on going down to the frozen ice about two miles below, but neither one of them made no sound.

And then Raul's coming down the hill on all four legs, sort of slipping and sliding and making straight for the door. Well, it's a real big metal door and there ain't no doorknob or nothing and it's locked. But the first lizard—the one who's laying dead in the snow—he's got this ring of keys with about sixteen big keys on it. And one of them fits. But it's lucky that he wasn't the one who fell over the edge, is all.

So Raul sticks this key in and the door slides back sideways and there's this long tunnel going off straight ahead 'til it turns and it's all lit with red light and sort of spooky. He walks into the tunnel and maybe he done something wrong or maybe there's an electric eyeball or something 'cause suddenly these bells are going off like an alarm.

"Well, I done it now," Raul thinks to hisself and takes off galloping down the hallway full speed. He'd put his bow back by this time and he's got his sword out.

Meanwhile, you remember that Gernisavien was all strapped down to this steel table and there was a Wizard standing over her fixing to slit open her belly to get at that farcaster key? He had the knife out—it was sort of like a doctor's knife, it was so sharp you could cut butter with it—and he was standing there just sort of deciding where to make the cut when all the bells went off.

"It's Raul!" yells Dobby who's hanging there on the wall and who's still alive.

The Wizard, he turns real fast and throws some switches and all these TV screens light up. On some of the screens you see lizard soldiers running and others you see a couple of Wizards sort of looking around and on one you see Raul running down this hallway.

The Wizard says something in Wizard talk to these other guys in robes in the room and then they go running out of the room together. So now Dobby and Gernisavien are all alone in there, but there ain't nothing they can do except to watch the TV because they're all tied up.

Raul, he's coming around this bend and all of the sudden here are a bunch of lizards in front of him and they've got crossbows and he's just got his sword. But they're more surprised than he is and he puts his head down and charges full speed into them and before they can get their crossbows loaded and everything he's in there swinging and there are lizard heads and tails and stuff flying around.

Now Gernisavien can see this on the TV and she and Dobby are cheering and everything but they can see the other TVs too, and the halls is full of lizards and the Wizards are coming too. So Dobby, he begins to pull and pull against the chains as hard as he can. Remember, his arms are stronger than they look like we found out when he held up part of Tartuffel's Treehouse that time.

"What're you doing?" goes Gernisavien.

"Tryin' to get at that!" goes Dobby and he points at the table full of test tubes and bottles and all the chemical stuff where the Wizards had been working.

"What for?" goes Gernisavien.

"It's nucular fuel," Dobby says, "and that blue stuff is anti-gravity stuff like in the sky galleon. If it gets all mixed up..." And Dobby keeps pulling and pulling until the veins stood up out of his head, but finally one of the chain things breaks and Dobby's hanging down by one arm but he's too tired to keep going.

"Wait a minute," goes Gernisavien. She's watching the TV.

Raul was killing lizards this way and that and he got to within maybe a hundred feet or so to where Dobby and Gernisavien's being kept, but he don't know that and suddenly here come these four or five Wizards with their fire guns. Raul, he barely gets his shield up in time. As it is they scorched off some of his hair and mane and burned up all of his arrows and stuff on his back. And they burned up his daddy's bow, too.

So Raul starts going backwards and he knows they're trying to cut him off 'cause he can see the lizards running down these side hallways. So he turns and gallops as fast as he can but the Wizards are coming down the main way and when they get a clear shot he'll be a goner. So Raul stops and picks up a crossbow and he sort of keeps them back by shooting their way.

All of the sudden he's in this big room where the Wizards keep their flying platforms. And Raul goes and jumps the railing and lands on one and starts to look at the controls. He pushes this button and the wall rolls up—it's the door on the side of the mountain. Raul looks outside and sees the fresh air and stars and everything. And when he looks back all he can see is doorways full of lizards and here come the Wizards with their fire guns and everything and Raul knows that if he stays he can't dodge them all. Raul's not so much afraid of getting killed as he is of getting hurt real bad and having to stay there all chained up like Gernisavien and Dobby.

So Raul, he pushes the buttons until the flying platform starts flying and the Wizards are blasting away with their fire guns, but he's already outside in the night air and they can't get a good shot at him as he flies away sort of zig-zagging.

Now back up the hallway, Gernisavien and Dobby've been watching all this on the TV. Dobby's face, it always looks kind of sad but now it looks sadder than ever.

"Can you get your other arm loose?" goes Gernisavien.

Dobby just shakes his head no. He ain't got no leverage.

Gernisavien, she knows that the key's still in her stomach. And she knows that the Wizards're planning to use it to get at all those other worlds in the Web of Worlds. And maybe the humans could fight them off but it looks like it'd be real hard what with the Wizards coming on them by surprise and all. Gernisavien remembers all the times they talked about when they would get to the farcaster and all the planets they'd go to together and all the people they'd see.

"It's been fun, hasn't it?" goes Dobby.

"Yeah," says Gernisavien. And then she says. "Go ahead. Do it."

Dobby knows what she means. He smiles and the smile, it's sort of sad and sort of happy at the same time. Then he leans out real far until he's standing on the wall sideways. That's when they hear the Wizard's footsteps in the hallway. So Dobby starts swinging his right arm—the one with the chain hanging loose from it—and then he brings it down on the nucular fuel and other things on the table and smashes them all together.

Raul is five or six miles away when he sees the mountain blow up. The top just sort of came off and the whole thing went up in the air like a volcano. Raul's just high enough and just far enough away that he didn't get blown to pieces with it. And he knew who did it. And why.

Now I don't know what else he was thinking about. But he was all by himself now. And he flew around up there alone while all the lava runs down the mountains and sparks shoot up into the air. And there's nowhere for him go now. He can't get the farcaster to work all by himself. Gernisavien had the key and Dobby was the only one to knew how to turn it on.

Raul stayed up there in the dark for a long time. Then he turned the platform around and flew away. And that's the end.

***
There was a silence. Children sat stone still and watched as Terry went back to his desk. His corduroys went whik-wik. As he sat down, several of the girls began sob. Many of the boys looked down or raised their desk lids to hide their own tears.

Mrs. Borcherding was at a loss. Then she turned to the clock, turned back angrily to the alarm clock, and raised it between her and the class.

"See what you did, young man," she snapped. "You've wasted the class's entire recess and put us behind schedule on our clean-up. Quickly everyone, get ready to scrub your desks!"

The children rubbed at their eyes, took deep breaths, and obediently set to the final tasks that stood between them and freedom.

THE END

Death of the Centaur, Pt. 8

2008-08-24T11:00:00.000-04:00

From the estate atop the hill, the view of the river had been largely occluded by late-spring foliage. But from the wide veranda doors one could easily watch the boy and the man climbing the verdant curve of lawn. They walked slowly. The man was talking; the boy was looking up at him.

The man sat down on the grass and beckoned for the boy to do likewise. The boy shook his head and took two steps backward. The man spoke again. His hands were stretched out, fingers splayed wide. He leaned forward in an earnest gesture, but the boy took another two steps back. When the man rose, the boy turned and began walking quickly down the hill. The man took a few steps after him but stopped when the boy broke into a jog.

In less than a minute, the boy was out of sight around the bend in the railroad tracks and the man stood alone on the hill.

Kennan drove the Volvo down the narrow side street and stopped opposite Terry's house. He sat in the car for a long minute with his hands on the steering wheel. As Kennan reached for the Volvo's door handle, Mr. Bester came out of the house and stepped down from the high porch into the side yard. The man wore baggy bib overalls and no shirt. As he bent to peer under the house for something, his gray stubble caught the light. Kennan paused for a second and then drove on.

At two a.m. Kennan was still loading the books into cardboard cartons. As he passed in front of the screened window he thought he heard a noise from across the street. He put down the stack of books, walked to the screen, and looked down through streetlight glare and leaf shadows.

"Terry?"

There was no response. The shadows on the lawn did not move and a few minutes later Kennan resumed his packing.

He had planned to leave very early Sunday morning, but it was almost ten before the car was loaded. It was strangely cold, and a few drops of rain fell from leaden skies. His landlord was not home—in church probably—so Kennan dropped the key in his mailbox.

He drove around the town twice and past the school four times before he cursed softly and headed west on the main highway.

Traffic was very light on Interstate 55 and the few cars there tended to drive with their lights on. Occasionally rain would spatter the windshield. He stopped for breakfast on the west side of St. Louis. The waitress said that it was too late for breakfast so he had a hamburger and coffee. The storm light outside made the cafe seem dark and cold.

It was pouring by the time he passed through downtown St. Louis. The tricky lane changes made Kennan miss seeing the Gateway Arch as he crossed the Mississippi. The river was as gray and turbulent as the sky.

Once in Illinois, the Volvo headed east on Interstate 70, the trip settled down to the hiss of tires on wet pavement and the quick metronome of the wipers. This soon depressed Kennan and he switched on the radio. It surprised him a bit to hear the roars and shouts of the Indianapolis 500 being broadcast. He listened to it as great trucks whooshed past him in the drizzle. Within half an hour the announcer in Indianapolis was describing the storm clouds coming in from the west, and Kennan turned off the radio in the sure knowledge that the race would be called.

In silence he drove eastward.

***
On the Tuesday after Memorial Day, Mr. Kennan's fourth graders filed into their classroom to find Mrs. Borcherding installed behind the teacher's desk. All of them knew her from times she had substituted for their regular teachers in years past. Some of the children had known her as their first grade teacher during her last year before retirement.

Mrs. Borcherding was a swollen mass of fat, wrinkles, and wattles. Her upper arms hung loose and flapped when she gestured. Her legs were bloated masses of flesh straining against support stockings. Her arms, hands, and face were liberally sprinkled with liver spots and her whole body gave off a faint aroma of decay that soon permeated the room. The children sat with their hands folded on their desks in unaccustomed formality and faced her silently.

"Mr. Kennan has been called away," said the apparition in a voice that seemed too phlegmy to be human. "I believe there was an illness in the family. At any rate, I will be your teacher for these last three days of school. I want it understood that I expect everyone in this class to work. It does not matter to me whether there are three days school left or three hundred. Nor am I interested in whether you've had to work as hard as you should have up to now. You will do your best work right up until the time you are dismissed on Thursday afternoon. Your report curds have already been filled out, but don't think that you can start fooling around now. Mr. Eppert has given me the authority to change grades as I see fit. And that includes conduct grades. It is still possible that some of you may live to be retained in fourth grade if I see the necessity during the next few days. Now, are there any questions? No questions? Very good, you may get out your arithmetic books for a drill."

***
During morning recess, Terry was besieged with kids demanding information. He stood as mute as a rock against the crashing waves of curiosity and desperation. The one piece of information he did impart caused the children to turn and babble at one another like extras in a melodramatic crowd scene.

It was mid-afternoon before someone worked up nerve to confront Mrs. Borcherding. Naturally it was Sara who went forward. In the thick stillness of the handwriting exercise, Sara's tiny voice was as high and urgent as a bee's distracting buzz. Mrs. Borcherding listened, frowned, and focused her scowl on the front row as Sara went back to her seat.

"Terry Bester."

"Yes'm," said Terry.

"Mmmmm ... Sally says that you ... ahh ... have something to share with us," began Mrs. Borcherding. The class started to giggle at the mistake with Sara's name but then froze as Mrs. Borcherding's little eyes darted around to find the source of the noise. "All right, since the class evidently has been expecting this for some time, we will get this ... story ... out of the way right now and then go on to social studies."

"No, ma'm," said Terry softly.

"What was that?" Mrs. Borcherding looked long and hard at the boy, obviously ready to rise out of her chair at any sign of defiance. Terry sat at polite attention, his hands folded on his notebook. Only in the firm set of the thin lips was there any sign of impertinence.

"It would be convenient to get this out of the way now," repeated the substitute.
"No, ma'am," repeated Terry and continued quickly before the shocked fat lady could say anything. "I was told that I was s'posed to tell it on the last day. That's Thursday. That's what he said."

Mrs. Borcherding stared down at Terry. She started to speak, closed her mouth with an audible snap, and then began again. "We'll use your regular Thursday recess time. Right before clean up. Those people who wish to miss recess can stay inside to listen. The others will be allowed to go outside and play."

"Yes, ma'am," said Terry and returned to his handwriting drill.

Death of the Centaur, Pt. 7

2008-08-22T10:28:00.002-04:00

Raul was alive. He struggled to free himself from the pile of lizard bodies. It had been the shirt. Since Carvnal he had worn the brightly decorated tunic that Fenn had given him at Treetops. It is more than decoration. Isn't that what the strange little Fuzzy had said? Indeed it was. The shirt had stopped six high-velocity crossbow bolts from penetrating. Certainly it had been more effective than the loose-link armor that still adorned the lizard corpses all around.

Raul made it up onto all four legs and took a few shaky steps. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious. It hurt to breathe. Raul felt his upper torso and wondered if the impact had broken a rib.

No matter. He moved around the clearing, first picking up his bow and then retrieving as many arrows as he could. He found his short sword where it had cleft a lizard's shield, helmet, and skull. His clan warspear was broken, but he snapped off the sacred metal spearhead and dropped it in his quiver. When he had armed himself as well as he could, picking up a long lizard war lance, he galloped to the edge of the clearing.

Some of the palm trees were still smoldering. The Wizard platforms could not have been gone for long. And Raul knew where they must have gone.

To the north gleamed the high peaks of the Fanghorn Mountains. Wincing a bit, Raul strapped his shield and bow to his back. Then, breaking into an effortless, distance-devouring canter, he headed north.

***
Night. Bugs dance in agitated clouds around the mercury vapor lamps. Kennan is standing in a phone booth near a small grocery store. The store is closed and dark. The side street is empty.

"Yes, Whit, I did get it..." Only Kennan's voice is audible in the darkness.

"No, I know that ... I am aware that it isn't easy to get to see Fentworth."

"Sure I do, but it isn't that simple, Whit. Not only do I ... I have a contract. It specifies that..."

"Those last days will make a difference..."

"So what did he say?"

"Look, I don't see what difference it makes if I see him now or when he gets back in August. If he has to decide on the position, they can't fill it 'til he gets back, can they? If I can just make arrangements to..."

"Oh, yeah? Yeah, I see. Before he goes? Yeah. Yeah. Uh-huh, I see that..."

"No, Whit, it is important that you're going to be there. It's just a matter of ... it's just that I don't have the money to fly. And then I'd have to fly back to get my stuff."

"Yeah. Yeah. That'd work out, but I can't afford to miss those last few ... I don't know. I suppose, why? Hell, Whitney, you've been to Europe before .. . why don't you ... no, really, why don't you tell your folks you can't join them until late June or..."

"Yeah. You did? Your folks won't be there? What about ... whatshername, the housekeeper, yeah, Millie ... Until when?"

"Damn. Yes, it does sound good."

"No, no, I do appreciate it, Whitney. You don't know how much it means to me..."

"Yeah. Uh-huh, that all makes sense but, look, it's hard to explain. No, listen, there's tomorrow. Friday, yeah ... and then Monday's off because of Memorial Day. Then they go Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday's their last day. No ... just report cards and stuff. Look, couldn't it be just a week later?"

"Uh-huh. Yeah. OK, I understand that. Well, look, let me think about it overnight, all right?"

"I know that ... but he's around on Saturday, isn't he?"

"OK, look, I'll call you tomorrow ... that's Friday night ... and I'll let you know what ... no, goddamn it, Whit, I'm poor but I'm not that poor, I don't want your parents getting billed for ... look, I'll call you about nine o'clock, that's ... uh ... eleven your time, OK?"

"Well, you could call him on Saturday then and tell him I'd be there Wednesday, or I can just wait and hope something else opens up. Uh-huh, uh-huh ... well, let's just ... just let me think about it, OK? Yes ... well, I will take that into consideration, don't worry."

"Look, Whit, I'm running out of quarters here. Yeah. About nine ... I mean eleven. No ... me too. It's real good to hear your voice ... Yeah. OK. I'll talk to you tomorrow then. Yeah ... I look forward to seeing you soon, too. Me too. Bye, Whit."

***
After Dobby's unsuccessful escape attempt, they hung him from chains on the wall. From where Gernisavien was strapped to the table, she could not see if he was still breathing. The red light made it look as if he had been flayed alive.

Tall, shrouded shapes moved through the bloody dimness. When the Wizards weren't turned her way, Gernisavien strained against the metal bands at her wrists and ankles. No use. The steel did not budge an inch. The neo-cat relaxed and inspected the steel table to which she was pinned. The smooth surface had metal gutters on the side and small drain holes. Gernisavien wondered at their purpose and then wished she hadn't. Her heart was racing so fast that she feared it would tear its way out of her chest.

At least Dobby's escape attempt the day before had distracted the guards long enough for Gernisavien to raise her hands, lift the key, and swallow it.

There was a movement in the shadows and the tallest of the hooded figures stepped forward into a shaft of red light. Slowly the Wizard drew back its hood. Gernisavien stared in horror at overlapping scales, a face like a mantis's skull, great eyes that looked like pools of congealed blood, and fangs which dripped a thick mucus.

The Wizard said something that Gernisavien did not understand. Slowly it raised its bony, scaly hand. Clenched in the foul claws was a scalpel...

Less than half a mile away, Raul labored uphill through heavy snowdrifts. His hooves slipped on icy rocks. Twice he caught himself and only the strength of his massive arms allowed him to pull his body to safety. A fall now meant certain death.

The shirt Fenn had given him provided some warmth for his upper body, but the rest of him was freezing. His hands were quickly growing numb, and Raul knew that they would not save him again should he slip. What was worse, the sun was beginning to set. The centaur knew that he would not survive another night at these elevations.
If only he could find the opening!

Just as he was beginning to despair, Raul heard a rock fall below him and then a whispered curse came on the icy wind. Crawling to the edge of the snowy overhang, he looked down on two lizard guards no more than thirty feet away. They stood next to a heavy metal door that had been painted white to blend in with the snowy mountainside. The lizards wore white hoods and parkas and if it had not been for the curse, Raul would never have seen them.

The sun was down. A freezing wind swept the slopes and threw icy crystals against the centaur's quivering flanks. Raul crouched in the snow. His frozen fingers reached for his bow and arrows.

Death of the Centaur, Pt. 6

2008-08-21T09:28:00.001-04:00

Gernisavien awoke to an icy wind whipping at her face. The nine Wizards' platforms were floating above mountaintops that glowed white in the starlight. The air was very thin. Gernisavien's arm hung over the side of the platform. If she rolled over she would fall hundreds of feet to her death.

The little neo-cat could dimly make out the other platforms silhouetted against the stars and could see the robed Wizard figures on each, but there was no sign of Dobby.

A hissing from a Wizard on her own platform, directed at the lizard at the controls, made Gernisavien look ahead. The platform was headed for a mountain that loomed up like a broken tooth directly ahead of them. The lizard made no attempt to change their course and Gernisavien realized that at their present speed they would crash into the rock and ice in less than thirty seconds. The neo-cat prepared to jump, but at the last second the lizard calmly touched a button on the panel and the platform began to slow.

Ahead of them the side of the mountain rose up into itself and revealed the entrance to a huge tunnel. Light as red as newly spilled blood poured out of the aperture. Then the platform was inside, the wall had lowered into place behind them, and Gernisavien was a prisoner in the Wizards' Stronghold.

***
On Saturday morning Mr. Kennan took Sara, Monica, and Terry on an all-day outing. Terry was not pleased with the presence of the two giggling girls, but he occupied the front seat with an air of proprietal indifference and ignored the silly outbursts of whispers emanating from the back. Mr. Kennan joked with all three children as he drove across the river into Daniel Boone National Forest. The girls dissolved into more giggles and frantic whispers whenever they were addressed, but Terry answered the jests with his usual humorless drawl.

Kennan parked near a picnic spot and the four spent an hour clambering around on a heap of boulders in among the trees. Then the teacher sent Terry back to the car and the boy returned with a wicker picnic hamper. Mr. Kennan had purchased sandwiches at the supermarket delicatessen and there were cans of soft drinks, bags of corn chips, and a pack of Oreo cookies. They sat on a high rock and ate in companionable silence. As always, Kennan marveled at the ravenous appetites of such little people.

In the early afternoon, he drove them back across the bridge and headed north along the state highway that soon headed back west again along the river. Fourteen miles and they were in Hermann, a picturesque little German community that had preserved all of the Victorian charm that nearby towns had either lost or never possessed. The Maifest was still underway and Kennan treated the kids to a ride on a wheezing Ferris wheel and to genuine chocolate ice cream at a sidewalk cafe. Women in bright peasant garb danced with older men who looked pleasantly ridiculous in lederhosen. A band sat in a white bandstand and gamely produced polka after polka for the small crowd.

It was almost dinnertime when Kennan drove them home. Monica whined and wheedled until the teacher told Terry to ride in the back and allowed Monica up front. This arrangement pleased no one. Terry and Sara sat in trozen silence while Monica fidgeted in paroxysms of nervousness whenever Kennan spoke to her or looked her way. Finally they stopped at a gas station under the pretext of a restroom break, and the old arrangement was restored for the last eight miles.

Both girls shouted their perfunctory "Thank-you-very-much-we-had-a-very-nice-time" while they ran pell mell for their respective front doors. Kennan heaved a melodramatic sigh after Monica was out of sight and turned to his last passenger.
"Well, Terry, where to? Shall we stop by the Dog'N'Suds for dinner?"

Surprisingly, the boy suggested an alternative. "How 'bout the fish fry?"

Kennan had forgotten about the fish fry. Held at the Elk's Lodge Recreation Area, three miles out of town, the annual event was evidently considered a big deal.
"OK," said Kennan, "let's go try the fish fry."

Half the town was there. Two huge tents sheltered tables where diners gorged themselves on fried catfish, French fries, and coleslaw. A few dilapidated carnival rides made up a midway in the high grass adjacent to the parking lot. Homemade booths sold pies, opportunities to throw a softball at weighted milk bottles, and raffle chances at a color television set. Out on the baseball diamond, the men's softball teams were playing their last tournament games. Deeper in the meadow, two opposing groups of volunteer firemen aimed their high pressure firehoses at a barrel suspended on a cable. They pushed it back and forth to the cheering of a small crowd.

Kennan and Terry sat at a long table and ate catfish. They strolled past the booths while townspeople greeted Kennan by name. The teacher recognized about one person in ten. Together they watched a ballgame, and by the time it was over the sun had set and strings of hanging lights had come on. The merry-go-round cranked out its four tunes of imitation calliope music while fireflies blinked along the edge of the woods. Some boys ran by in a pack and called to Terry. Kennan pressed two dollars into the surprised boy's hands, and Terry ran off with the others toward the rides and games.

Kennan watched the beginning of the next game under the yellow field lights and then wandered back to the tent for a beer. Kay Bennett, the district's school psychologist, was there and Kennan bought a second round of beers while the two sat talking. Kay was from California, was in her second year here, and felt as trapped as Kennan in this small, Missouri backwater. They took their plastic cups and wandered away from the lights. Broad paths ran from the Elk Lodge to small cabins in among the trees. The two walked the trails and watched as the full moon rose above the meadow. Twice they came upon high school students petting in the darkness. Both times they turned away with knowing smiles and amused glances. Kennan felt his own excitement rising as he stood near the young woman in the moonlight.

Later, as he was driving home, Kennan slammed the steering wheel and wished that he had gotten to know Kay earlier in the year. How different the winter would have been!
Back in his apartment, Kennan got out the bottle of Chivas Regal and sat reading Voltaire at the kitchen table. A gentle night breeze came in through the screen. Two drinks later he showered and crawled into bed. He decided not to make a journal entry but smiled at the fullness of the day.

"Shit!" said Kennan as he sat up in bed. He dressed quickly, ignoring his socks and pulling on a nylon wind-breaker over his pajama tops.

The moon was bright enough that he could have driven without headlights as he pushed the Volvo around tight turns in the county road. The parking lot was empty and there were deep ruts and gouges in the field. The rides were still there, but folded and ready to be loaded on trailers. The meadow was moon-dappled and, to Kennan's first relieved glance, empty. But then he saw the shadowy figure on the top row of empty bleachers.

When he came close enough the moonlight allowed him to see the streaks on the boy's dusty face. Kennan stood on a lower level and started to speak, found no words, stopped, and shrugged.

"I knowed you'd come back," said Terry. His voice seemed cheerful. "I knowed you'd come back."

I am so SICK of doctors...

2008-08-18T11:13:00.002-04:00

As most of you know, I've had my fair share of medical problems in the past. Most of the time I ignore all of these things but when I start to add them up I realize that I am not always at my best.

For a while (4 months) I dealt with my feet. It got so bad I thought I was going to lose them and just when I was about to give up after visiting 12 doctors, they suddenly got better and stayed that way.

No arguments here.

Now I have stomach problems. I don't know why but it started not long before school let out for the summer and has more or less made my vacation time less enjoyable because of the need to evacuate soul every so often. I've gone to the doctor twice so far and nothing much has happened yet. Now I get to receive a colonoscopy but the damn place I was referred to (which is at my doctors office) wouldn't let me make an appointment while I was there, instead saying they will only write down an appointment time if you CALL them. The receptionist in charge of the appointments was right there and simply nodded her head.

I went in today to get a mole removed. Nothing serious, just something I had been meaning to do. Well, this is the second time I've been screwed by that clinic. The signs all say "$20 plus $4 per mole" making it reasonable. I went in, and the hack doctor who misdiagnosed my foot problem looked at them, said "no problem" and then informed me that the price was $50 for the one and $100 for the other.

Needless to say I argued with her. In the end, I decided just to have the problem mole removed (only because it can be uncomfortable, not because it's harmful in any other way) and she said "oh, well, then it's just $100." Apparently, it was a cut one off, get a second one off half price day.

The way it works is that your family doctor can do most of these things for you and that's their fee. Instead of doing it for you, though, they refer you to these other people in the same offices who charge you much more. They just don't tell you about it, or, the first time I had something I wanted done (ingrown toenail) and they jacked the fee, my doctor didn't KNOW that the cost was so much more.

I don't have much faith left in the medical profession and now I'm about to let them violate me to make sure I'm not going to die. Hell, even if I WAS going to die, the stupid assholes probably wouldn't know it.

Death of the Centaur, Pt. 5

2008-08-17T20:51:00.000-04:00

It was much warmer near South Bay. Raul, Dobby, and Gernisavien headed along the coast toward the legendary Farcaster Site. According to the ancient map which Dobby had found in the Man Ruins so many months ago, their journey's end should be only a few days to the west. Around her neck Gernisavien wore the key that they had found in the Carvnal Archives and paid for with the death of their old friend Fenn. If the Old Books were right, that key would activate the long dormant farcaster and reunite Garden with the Web of Worlds. Then would the tyranny of the cruel Wizards finally be cast down.

It was under the shadow of these same Wizards that our trio of friends made their way west. The sharp Fanghorn Mountains lay to the north and somewhere in their shadowy reaches was the feared Wizards' Stronghold.

The friends kept watch on the skies, always on the lookout for the Wizards' flying platforms as they moved along under the cover of lush, tropical foliage. Gernisavien marveled at the palm trees that rose two hundred feet high along their march.

On the afternoon of the third day they made camp near the mouth of a small river that fed into the South Sea. Dobby arranged their silk tent under the trees so that the warm breezes caused it to billow and ripple. Raul made sure the tent would be invisible from the air and then they sat down to their cold rations. By mutual consent they had avoided a fire since landing at South Bay, subsisting on biscuits and cold jerky purchased from the Benevolent Zephyr's ship stores.

The tropical sunset was spectacular. The stars seemed to explode into the night sky. Dobby pointed out the Southern Archer, a constellation that was invisible from their respective homes in the northern part of the continent. Gernisavien felt a stab of homesickness, but put off the sadness by fingering the ancient key around her neck and imagining the thrill of reopening the farcaster portals to a hundred worlds. Which of those stars held other worlds, other peoples?

Dobby seemed to read her thoughts. "It seems impossible that the journey is almost over, doesn't it?"

Raul rose, stretched, and moved away in the darkness to reconnoiter the stream.
"I keep thinking of that Fuzzy's predictions," said Gernisavien. "Remember, in Tartuffel's Treehouse?"

Dobby nodded his massive head. How could one forget the frightening glimpses of the future which that strange little creature had offered each of them?

"Most of them have come to pass," grumbled the sorcerer-ape. "Even the Shrike is behind us."

"Yes, but not my dream—not the one with the Wizards all around in that terrible little room," replied Gernisavien. It was true. Of all the future-seeing dreams, the neo-cat's had been the most frightening, the most ominous, and the least discussed.
Strapped down and helpless on a stainless steel operating table with the hooded Wizards looming over her. Then the tallest stepping forward into the blood-red light ... slowly drawing back its hood...

Gernisavien shuddered at the memory. As if to change the subject, Dobby stood and looked around in the darkness.

"Where's Raul?" His attention was captured by the rising of the two moons above the jungle canopy. Then he realized that the moons did not rise this early...

"Run!" cried Dobby and pushed the startled neo-cat to-the trees. But it was too late.
The air filled with the scream of flying platforms. Rays of fire lanced out from the airborne machines and exploded the tops of trees into balls of flame. Knocked off her feet, fur and eyebrow whiskers singed from the heat, Gernisavien could see the hooded Wizards on the hovering machines, could hear the screams of the lizard soldiers as they leaped to the ground.

For a self-avowed coward, Dobby fought valiantly. Dodging the first thrust of a lizard's pike, he grabbed the long shaft and wrested it away. Dobby stabbed the startled reptile through the throat and turned to hold off five more of the hissing enemy. He had downed two lizards and was lifting a third high into the air with his long, strong arms when he was struck down by a blow from behind.

Gernisavien let out a yell and ran toward her friend, but before she had taken five steps a tall, scaly form loomed over her and something struck her on the skull. The next few minutes were confused. She regained consciousness just after she and Dobby were loaded aboard two platforms which lifted into the air.

Then came the stirring sound which had thrilled her so many times before—Raul's war horn blown loud and sweet and clear. Five pure notes of challenge broke through the babble of noise and the crackle of flames.

Raul came charging across the clearing in a full gallop, war spear leveled, shield high, with the cry of the Centaur Clan on his lips. Lizard soldiers went down like tenpins. A Wizard fired a shaft of flame, but Raul warded it off with his shield of sacred metal. His long spear broke as it pierced three lizards attempting to cower behind one another, but he cast it aside and pulled out his lethal short sword. Once again he shouted his clan war cry and waded into a pack of hissing, sword-wielding lizards.

Gernisavien felt the platform shudder and stop at tree-top height. She heard the hooded Wizard at the controls rasp a command and thirty lizards fired their crossbows. The air was filled with the scream of feathered bolts and then filled again with lizard screams as the deadly shafts slammed into them and centaur alike. Gernisavien felt her heart stop as she saw at least six bolts strike home against Raul's chest and sides. The great centaur went down in a heap of lizard bodies. Green tails and scaled arms still twitched in that pile of death.

Gernisavien let out one high, mournful cry of rage and then the cuff of a Wizard's fist against her head sent her back into blessed darkness.

***

Thurs., May 20

Warmer today. Temp. in the high 70's all day. Evening seems to go on forever.
Spent some time in the library tonight. Mailed off my vita to three more places—Phillips-Exeter, the Latin School, and Green Mtn. No response yet from Whitney on the Exp. Sch. Sent her the forms almost two weeks ago & she was going to talk to Dr. Fentworth as soon as she received them.

Picked up some chicken at Col. Sanders. The neighborhood has really come alive—with the window open I can hear kids screaming and playing down on the 5th St. School playground. (It's after 9 p.m. but there's still a little light in the sky.) Late at night I can hear the deep rumble of the ships' engines as the barges move upriver & then the slosh of the waves against the concrete pilings down at the end of Locust Street.

Talked to Mr. Eppet and Dr. North (Asst. Supt.) about next year. Could still get a contract here if I wanted it. (Not much chance of that.) Other teachers are circling my room like buzzards. Mrs. Kyle has her name on a piece of tape on my file cabinet and Mrs. Reardon (the greedy old cow—why doesn't she just tend to her husband's store and keep shouting at the kids not to read the comics?) has staked out my chair, the globe (the one we just got in March), and the paperback stand. She can't wait for me to be gone next year. (They'll only have two fourth grades again—) When I leave, the school can lapse back into the Dark Ages. (No wonder T.C. and the others called it the Menopause Foundation.)

Loud horn from the river. Ship's bells. Reminds me of the cowbells tinkling from the masts of the small craft at anchor in Yarmouth.

The story is right on schedule. Donna, Sara, and Alice were crying today. (So were some of the boys but they tried to hide it.) They'll be relieved to hear Monday's episode. It's not time for ol' Raul to die yet—when he does it will be in the finest epic tradition. If nothing else, this tale is a great lesson in friendship, loyalty, and honor. The ending will be sad—with Raul sacrificing himself to free the others—holding off the Wizards until his friends can activate the teleportation device. But hopefully the last episode where Gernisavien & Dobby bring the humans back to Garden to clobber the Wizards will offset the sad part. At least it'll be a hell of a finale.

I've got to write this thing down! Maybe this summer.

Totally dark out now. The streetlight outside my second story window here is shining through the maple leaves. A breeze has come up. Think I'll go for a walk down to the river and then come back to do some work.

The Death of the Centaur - Pt. 4

2008-08-15T10:16:00.001-04:00

The great Sky Galleon moved between high banks of stratocumulus that caught the last pink rays of sunset. Raul, Dobby, and Gernisavien stood on the deck and watched the great orb of the sun slowly sink into the layer of clouds beneath them. From time to time, Captain Kokus would bellow orders to the chimp-sailors who scampered through the rigging and sails far above the deck. Occasionally the captain turned and murmured quiet orders to the mate, who spoke into the metal speaking tube. Gernisavien could sense the fine adjustments to the hidden tanks of anti-gravity fluid.

Eventually the light faded except for the first twinkling of stars and the two minor moons hurtling above the cloud layer. Unseen sailors lit lantern running lights hanging from mast tops and spars. The climbing cloud towers lost the last of their glow and Dobby suggested that the three go below to prepare for the Spring Solstice party.

And what a party it was! The long Captain's Table was heaped with fine foods and rare wines. There was succulent roast bison from the Northern Steppes, swordfish from South Bay, and icy bellfruit from the far-off Equatorial Archipelago. The thirty guests—even the two dour Druids—ate and laughed as they never had before. The wine glasses continued to be refilled by the ship's stewards and soon the toasts began to flow as quickly as the wine. At one point Dobby rose to toast Captain Kokus and his splendid ship. Dobby referred to the grizzled old skysailor as a "fine fellow anthropoid" but stumbled a bit over the phrase and had to start again to general laughter. Captain Kokus returned the compliment by toasting the intrepid trio and praising Raul for his courageous victory at the Carvnal Death Games. Nothing was said about the Galleon's undignified departure from the city mooring tower with two squads of lizard soldiers in hot pursuit of the last three passengers. The diners applauded and cheered.

Then it was time for the Solstice Ball to begin. The table was cleared, the tablecloth was furled, and then the table itself was broken into pieces and carried away. Guests stood around on the broad curve of the lowest deck and accepted refills once more. Then the ship's orchestra filed in and began their preparations.

When all was in readiness, Captain Kokus clapped his hands and there was a silence.
"Once again I formally welcome you all aboard the Benevolent Zephyr," rumbled the Captain, "and extend to you all the best wishes of the Solstice season. And now ... let the dancing begin!"

And with a final clap of his hands the lantern light dimmed, the orchestra began playing, and great wooden louvers on the belly of the ship swung down so that nothing stood between the passengers and the depths of sky beneath them except crystal floor. There was a general oohing and ahhing and everyone took an involuntary step backward. Immediately this was followed by a burst of laughter and applause and then the dancing began.

On sped the great, graceful Sky Galleon into the aerial rivers of the night. Seen from above there would have been only the glow of the running lanterns and the only sound was the sigh and slap of wind in the sails and occasional calls of "All's Well!" from the lookout in the crow's nest. But seen from below, the ship blazed with light and echoed to tunes so ancient that they were said to have come from legendary Old Earth. Forest nymphs and demimen danced and pirouetted five thousand feet above the night-shrouded hills. At one point sober Gernisavien found herself in the undignified position of dancing with a centaur—lifted high in Raul's strong arms as his hooves tapped their own rhythm on the unscratchable crystal floor. A storm came up before the party ended and the captain had the lights turned down so that the company could look past their feet at the lightning that rippled through the stormclouds far below. After a hushed moment, the orchestra began playing the Solstice Hymn and Gernisavien, much to her surprise, discovered herself singing the sentimental old ballad along with the others. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Then it was to bed, with revelers stumbling along the suddenly pitching corridors. Even the throes of an aerial storm could not prevent most of the tired passengers from dropping off to sleep. Dobby lay sprawled on his back, his purple beret on the pillow beside him, his great, smiling, simian mouth opened wide to release mighty snores. Gernisavien had found her bunk too large so she slept curled up in an open drawer which swung out slightly and then slid back to the ship's even rockings. Only Raul could not sleep, and after checking in on his friends he went above deck. There he stood huddled against the cold breeze and watched the first, false light of dawn touch the boiling cloudtops.

Raul was thinking grim thoughts. He knew that if they were not intercepted by the Wizard's flying machines, it was only a few more days' journey to South Bay. From there it would be a four or five day trek overland to the supposed Farcaster Site. They were already much too close to the Wizard's Stronghold. The odds were poor that the three friends would live out the week. Raul tapped at the dagger on his belt and watched the new day begin.

***
Mr. Kennan stood on the asphalt playground with fourth graders running and playing all around him and smiled up at the pleasant spring day. His army jacket, so frequently commented upon by the children, was not needed on such a warm day, but he wore it loosely along with his sports-car cap. Occasionally he would grin just for the hell of it and rub at his beard. It was a beautiful day!

The children's spirits reflected the promise of summer all around them. The little playground that had been such a grim exercise yard through the long months of winter now seemed to be the most pleasant of places. Discarded jackets and sweaters littered the ground as children swung from the monkey bars, ran to the bordering alley and back, or played kickball near the brick cliff of the school building. Donald and Orville were engrossed in floating some tiny stick in a mud puddle, and even Terry entered into the spirit of the day by galloping around with Bill and Brad. Kennan overheard the boy say to Brad, "You be Dobby 'n I'll be Raul an' we'll be fightin' the ratspiders." Bill began to protest as the three boys ran toward the far end of the playground and Kennan knew that he was resisting becoming a female neo-cat, even for the ten minutes left of the recess.

Kennan breathed deeply and smiled once again. Life seemed to be flowing again after months of frozen solitude. Who would have dreamed that Missouri (hadn't it been part of the Confederacy? ... or wanted to be...) could have such chill, gray, endless winters? There had been five snow days when school had to be cancelled. After two such snow days followed by a weekend, Kennan had realized with a shock that he had not spoken to anyone for four days. Would they have come looking for him if he had died? Would they have found him in his furnished room, propped up at the jerry-rigged writing desk surrounded by his manuscripts and shelves of silent paperbacks?

Kennan smiled at the conceit now, but it had been a grim thought during the darkest days of winter. The kickball eluded a fielder and rolled to where Kennan was standing amid his inevitable flock of adoring girls. He made a production of scooping up the ball and throwing it to the shouting catcher. The throw went wide and bounced off the basement window of the art room.

Kennan turned away to survey the apple blossoms filling the tree in a nearby yard. New grass was growing up in the centerline of the alley. He could smell the river flowing by only four blocks away. Thirteen days of school left! He viewed the end of the year with self-conscious sadness mixed with unalloyed elation. He couldn't wait to be away—his car, newly resurrected, packed with his few cartons of books and possessions, and the summer sunlight warm on his arm as he headed east on Interstate 70. Kennan imagined his leisurely escape from the Midwest—the seemingly endless barrier of cornfields passed, the surge of traffic on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, the contraction of distance between cities, the familiar exit signs in Massachusetts, the smell of the sea ... Still, this had been his first class. He would never forget these children and they would never forget him. He imagined them sharing with their children and grandchildren the long, epic tale he had forged for them. During the past weeks he had even toyed with the idea of another year in Missouri.

Sara came forward from the little pack of girls following their teacher. She slipped her arm through Mr. Kennan's and looked up at him with a practiced coquettishness. Kennan smiled, patted her absently on the part in her hair, and took a few steps away from the children. Reaching into his coat pocket he withdrew a crumpled letter and reread parts of it for the tenth time. Then he replaced it and stared north toward the unseen river. Suddenly he was roused by an explosion of noise from the kickball players. Kennan glanced irritably at his watch, raised a plastic whistle to his lips, and signaled the end of recess. The children grabbed at scattered coats and ran to line up.

The Death of the Centaur - Pt. 3

2008-08-14T08:23:00.002-04:00

Gernisavien and Dobby paid their last two credit coins to enter the huge arena where Raul was scheduled to fight the Invincible Shrike. All around them were the dark alleys and gabled rooftops of legendary Carvnal. They pushed through the entrance tunnel with the crowd and came out in the tiered amphitheatre where hundreds of torches cast bizarre shadows up into the stands.

Around the circular pit were crowded all the races of Garden, or rather, all those races which had not been exterminated resisting the evil Wizards: the hooded Druids, brachiate tree dwellers from the Great Forest, a band of fuzzies in their bright orange robes, many lizard soldiers hissing and laughing and shouting, stubby little Marsh Folk, and hundreds of mutants. The night air was filled with strange sounds and stranger smells. Vendors bellowed over the noise to hawk their fried argot wings and cold beer. Out in the arena, work crews raked sand over the drying pools of blood that marked the spots where earlier Death Game contestants had lost to the Shrike.

"Why does he have to fight?" asked Gernisavien as they took their places on the rough bench.

"It's the only way to earn a thousand credits so we can take the Sky Galleon south tomorrow morning," Dobby answered in a low voice. A tall mutant sat down next to him on the bench, and Dobby had to tug to retrieve the end of his purple cape.

"Bat why can't we just leave the city or take the raft farther south?" persisted Gernisavien. The little neo-cat's tail was flicking back and forth.

"Raul explained all that," whispered Dobby. "The Wizards know that we're in Carvnal. They must already be covering the city gates and the docks. Besides, with their flying platforms we could never outdistance them on foot or by raft. No, Raul's right, this is the only way."

"But no one beats the Shrike! Isn't that right? The thing was genetically designed during the Wizard Wars as a killing machine, wasn't it?" Gernisavien said miserably. She squinted as if the light from the stadium torches hurt her eyes.

"Yes," said Dobby, "but he doesn't have to beat it to earn the thousand credits. Just stay alive for three minutes in the same arena."

"Has anyone ever done that?" Gernisavien's whisper was ragged.

"Well ... I think..." began Dobby but was interrupted by a blare of trumpets from the arena. There was an immediate hushing of crowd noise. The torches seemed to flare more brightly and on one side of the wide pit a heavy portcullis drew up into the wall.

What's a portcullis?

It's like a big, heavy gate with spikes on the bottom. So every eye in the stadium was on that black hole in the wall. There was a long minute of silence so deep that you could hear the torches crackling and sputtering. Then the Shrike came out.

It was about seven and a half feet tall and it gleamed like polished steel in the light. Razor sharp spikes curled out like scythe blades from various parts of its smooth, metallic exoskeleton. Its elbows and knees were protected by rings of natural armor which also were covered by short spikes. There was even a spike protruding from its high forehead, just above where the red, multi-faceted eyes blazed like flaming rubies. Its hands were claws with five curved, metal blades that opened and closed so quickly that they were only a blur. The claws went snicker-snack, snicker-snack.

The Shrike moved out to the center of the arena slowly, lurching along like a sharp-edged sculpture learning how to walk. Its head lifted, the fighting beak snapped, and the red eyes searched the crowd as if seeking future victims.

Suddenly the stillness was broken as the hundreds of spectators began booing and jeering and throwing small items. Through it all the Shrike stood motionless and mute, seemingly unaware of the barrage of noise and missiles. Only once—when a large melon flew from the stands and headed straight for the Shrike's head—only then did it condescend to move. But how it moved! The Shrike leaped twenty feet to one side with a jump so incredibly fast that the terrible creature was invisible for a second. The crowd hushed in awe.

Then the trumpets sounded again, a tall wooden door opened, and the first contestant of the Late Games entered. It was a rock giant much like the one that had chased Dobby when they were crossing the Mountains of Mist. But this one was bigger—at least twelve feet tall—and it looked to be made of solid muscle.

"I hope he doesn't beat the Shrike and take the prize before Raul gets to fight," said Dobby. Gernisavien flashed the sorcerer-ape a disapproving glance.

It was over in twenty seconds. One moment the two opponents stood facing each other in the torchlight and an instant later the Shrike was back in the center of the ring and the rock giant was lying in various parts of the arena. Some of the pieces were still twitching.

There were four more contestants. Two were obvious suicides—whom the crowd booed loudly—one was a drunken lizard soldier with a high-powered crossbow, and the last was a fierce mutant with body armor of his own and a battle-axe twice as tall as Gernisavien. None of them lasted a minute.

Then the trumpets sounded again and Raul cantered into the arena. Gernisavien watched through her fingers as the handsome centaur, upper body oiled and glistening, moved toward the waiting Shrike. Raul was carrying only his hunting spear and a light shield. No—wait—there was a small bottle hanging from a thong around his neck.

"What's that?" asked Gernisavien, her voice sounding lost and quavery even to herself.

Dobby did not take his eyes off the arena as he answered. "A chemical I found in the Man Ruins. May the gods grant that I mixed it right."

Down in the arena the Shrike began its attack.

***

Dear Whitney,
Yes—you're right—this part of the country is the seventh circle of desolation. Sometimes I walk down the street (my "home" here is on a hill, if you can call furnished rooms in a rotting old brick house a home) and catch a glimpse of the Missouri River and remember those great days we had out on the Cape during spring break of our senior year. Remember the time we went riding along the beach and a thunderstorm came boiling in from the Bay and Pomegranate got so spooked? (And we had to ... ahem ... wait it out in the boathouse?) Glad to hear that you enjoy working in the Senator's office. Do all you Wellesley girls ascend directly into jobs like that or do most end up at Katie Gibbs School for Future Secretaries? (Sorry about that—someone stuck in the Meerschaum Pipe Capital of the World as I am shouldn't throw stones ... or stow thrones for that matter. Did you know that every corncob pipe in the western hemisphere comes from this town? I've got two inches of white soot on my windowsill and on the hood of my car to prove it!)

No—I don't get into St. Louis very much. It's about a fifty mile trip and the Volvo has been sitting by the curb for over a month. The head gasket is shot and it takes about ten years to get a part sent out here. I was lucky even to find a garage with metric tools. I did take the bus into the Big City three weeks ago. Went right after school Friday and got home Sunday evening in time to get depressed and to do my lesson plans. Ended up not seeing much except three movies and a lot of bookstores. Finally took a tour of the Gateway Arch. (No—I will not bore you with the details.) The best part of the weekend was enjoying the amenities of a good hotel for two nights.

To answer your question—I'm not totally sorry that I came out West to go to grad school in St. Louis. It was a good program (who can beat an 11-month Masters program?) but I hadn't anticipated that I'd be too poor to escape this goddamn state without teaching here for a year. Even that might have been OK if I could have found a position in Webster Groves or University City ... but the Meerschaum Pipe Capital of the World? This place—and the people—are straight out of Deliverance.

Still—it's only a year, and if I get a job with Hovane Acad or the Experimental School (have you seen Fentworth recently?), this year could be invaluable background experience.

So you want to hear more about my students? What can you say about a bunch of bucolic fourth graders? I've already told you about some of the antics of Crazy Donald. If this podunk district had any real special ed or remedial programs he'd be in them all. Instead, I throw a lassoo on him and try to keep him from hurting anyone. So let's see, who does that leave to tell you about?

Monica—our resident nine-year-old sexpot. She has her eye on me but she'll settle for Craig Stears in the sixth grade if I'm not available.

Sara—a real sweet kid. A curly-haired, heart-faced little cutie. I like Sara. Her mother died last year and I think she needs an extra dose of affection.

Brad—Brad's the class moron. Dumber than Donald, if that's possible. He's been retained twice. (Yes ... this district does flunk kids ... and spank them.) Not a discipline problem, Brad's just a big, dumb cluck in bib overalls and a bowl haircut.

Teresa—Here's a girl after your own heart, Whit. A horse nut! Has a gelding which she enters in shows around here and in Illinois. But I'm afraid Teresa's into the Cowgirl Mystique. Probably wouldn't know an English riding saddle if she sat on it. The kid wears cowboy boots to school every day and keeps a currycomb in her desk. And then there's Chuck & Orville(!) & William-call-me-Bill & Theresa (another one) & Bobby Lee & Alice & Alice's twin sister Agnes & etc. & etc...

Oh, I mentioned Terry Bester last time, but I do want to tell you more about him. He's a homely little kid—all overbite and receding chin. His hair hangs in his eyes and his mother must trim it with hedgeclippers. He wears the same filthy plaid shirt every day of the year and his boots have holes in them and one heel gone. (Get the picture? This kid's straight out of Tobacco Road!)

Still—Terry's my favorite. On the first day of school I was making some point and waving my arm around in my usual, histrionic fashion and Terry (who sits right up front, unlike most of the other boys) made a dive for the floor. I started to get mad at him for clowning around and then noticed his face. The kid was scared to death! Obviously he was getting the shit beat out of him at home and had ducked out of habit.

Terry seems determined to fit every poor-kid stereotype. He even drags around this homemade shoeshine box and makes a few quarters shining these hillbillies' boots down at the Dew Drop Inn and Berringer's Bar & Grill where his old man hangs out.

Anyway, to make a long story short, the little guy has been spending a lot of time with me. He often shows up at the back porch here about five-thirty or six o'clock. Frequently I invite him to stay for dinner—although when I tell him I'm busy and I have to write or something, he doesn't seem to resent it and he's back the next night. Sometimes when I'm reading I forget he's there until ten or eleven o'clock. His parents don't seem to care where he is or when he gets home. When I got back from my weekend in St. Louis, there was 'ol Terry sitting on my back steps with that absurd shoeshine kit. For all I know he'd been sitting there since Friday night.

Last weekend he calmly mentioned something that made my hair stand on end. He said that last year when he was in third grade "Ma and the Old Man got in a terrible fight." Finally Ma locked the front door when the drunken father stepped out onto the porch to scream at the neighbors or something. The guy just got madder and madder when he couldn't get back in and started shouting that he was going to kill them all. Terry says that he was hugging his six-year-old sister, his Ma was crying and screaming, and then the Old Man kicked in the door. He proceeded to hit Terry's mother in the mouth and drag the two kids out to his pickup truck. He drove them up Sawmill Road (in nearby Boone National Forest) and finally jerked the children out of the cab and pulled his shotgun off the rack. (Everybody carries guns in their pickups here, Whit. I've been thinking of getting a gun rack for the Volvo!)

You can imagine Terry telling me all of this. Every once in a while he'd pause to brush the hair out of his eyes, but his voice was as calm as if he were telling me the plot of a TV show he'd seen once.

So the father drags eight-year-old Terry and his little sister into the trees and tells them to get down on their knees and pray to God for forgiveness because he's got to shoot them. Terry says that the old drunk was waving the double-barreled shotgun at them and that his little sister, Cindy, just "went and wet her panties, then and there." Instead of shooting, Terry's father just lurched off into the woods and stood there cussing at the sky for several minutes. Then he stuck the kids back in the pickup and drove them home. The mother never filed charges.

I've seen Mr. Bester around town. He reminds me of whatshisname in the movie version of To Kill A Mockingbird. You know, the racist farmer that Boo Radley kills. Wait a minute, I'll look it up. (Bob Ewell!)

So you can see why I'm allowing Terry to spend so much time with me. He needs a positive male role model around ... as well as a sensitive adult to talk to and learn from. I'd consider adopting Terry if that were possible.

So now you know a little bit of how the other half lives. That's one reason why this year's been so important even if it has been sheer purgatory. Part of me can't wait to get back to you and the sea and a real city where people speak correctly and where you can walk into a drugstore and order a frappe without being stared at. But part of me knows how important this year is—both for me and the kids I'm touching by being here. Just the oral tradition of the story that I'm telling them is something they would never get otherwise.

Well, I'm out of paper and it's almost one a.m. School tomorrow. Give my best to your family, Whit, and tell the Senator to keep up the good work. With any luck (and the head gasket willing) you'll be seeing me sometime in mid-June.

Take care. Please write. It's lonely out here in the Missouri woods.

Love,
Paul

The Death of the Centaur - Pt. 2

2008-08-12T10:29:00.000-04:00

The centaur, the neo-cat, and the sorcerer-ape moved across the endless Sea of Grass. Gernisavien was too short to see above the high grass and had to ride on Raul's back. The centaur did not mind—he did not even notice her weight—and he enjoyed talking to her as he breasted the rippling waves of lemon-colored grass. Behind them came Dobby, ambling along in his comical, anthropoid stride and humming snatches of unintelligible tunes.

For nine days they waded the Sea of Grass. Far behind were the Haunted Ruins and the threat of the ratspiders. Far ahead—not yet in sight—was their immediate goal of the Mountains of Mist. At night Dobby would unsling his massive shoulder pack and retrieve the great silken umbrella of their tent. Intricate orange markings decorated the blue dome. Gernisavien loved the sound created as the evening wind came up and stirred a thousand miles of grass while rustling the silken canopy above them.
They were very careful with their fire. A single careless spark could ignite the entire Sea and there would be no escape.

Raul would return from his evening hunt with his bow over a shoulder and a limp grazer in one massive hand. After dinner they often talked softly or listened to Dobby play the strange wind instrument he had found in the Man Ruins. As the night grew later, Dobby would point out the constellations—the Swan, Mellam's Bow, the Crystal Skyship, and the Little Lyre. Raul would tell stories of courage and sacrifice handed down through six generations of Centaur Clan warriors.

One evening after they had carefully doused the fire, Gernisavien spoke. Her voice seemed tiny under the blaze of stars and was almost lost in the great sighing of wind in the grass. "What are our chances of actually finding the farcaster?"

"We can't know that," came Raul's firm voice. "We just have to keep heading south and do our best."

"But what if the Wizards get there first?" persisted the tawny neo-cat.
It was Dobby who answered. "Best we not discuss the Wizards at night," he said. "Never talk about scaly things after dark, that's what my old Granmum used to say."
In the morning they ate a cold breakfast, looked at the magic needle on Dobby's direction finder, and once again picked up the journey. The sun was close to the zenith when Raul suddenly froze and pointed to the east.

"Look!"

At first Gernisavien could see nothing, but after taking a handful of Raul's mane to steady herself and standing on his broad back, she could make out—sails! Billowing white sails against an azure sky. And beneath the straining canvas she could see a ship—a huge ship—creaking along on wooden wheels that must have been twenty feet high.

And it was headed right for them!

***
The classroom was ugly and uncomfortable. For a long time it had been used as a storeroom and even now the walls were marked and gashed where boxes and metal map cases had been stored.

The room, like the school, was old but not picturesque. It evoked no Norman Rockwell twinges of nostalgia. The once-high ceilings had been lowered with ill-fitting accoustical tiles that cut off the top third of the windows. Tubular fluorescent lights hung from gray bars that emerged through holes in the ceiling tiles. The floors once had been smooth and varnished but were now splintered to the point that students could not risk taking off their soaked tennis shoes on wet days.

Twenty-eight plastic pink-and-tan metal desks filled a space designed for three rows of wooden schooldesks from a previous century. The desks were old enough that their tilted tops were carved and scratched and their ugly, tubular legs gouged new splinters from the floor. It was impossible to place a pencil on a desktop without it rolling noisily, and every time a child lifted the desktop to reach for a book, the little room echoed to the sound of screeching metal and notebooks falling to the floor.

The windows were high and warped and all but one refused to open. The previous September, when the temperature continued to hover near ninety degrees and children's sneakers sank into the asphalt playground, the little room was almost unlivable with only a rare stirring of breeze coming through the windows.

The chalkboard was four feet wide and had a crack running along the right side. Kennan had once used it to illustrate the San Andreas Fault. On his first day he had discovered that the room had no chalk, only one eraser, no yardstick, no globe, only one pull-down map (and that predating World War Two), no bookshelves, and a clock permanently frozen at one twenty-three. Kennan had requisitioned a wall clock on the third of September and an old one was mounted next to the door by the end of January. It stopped frequently so Kennan kept a cheap alarm clock on his desk. Its ticking had become background noise to all the other sounds in the room. Occasionally he set the alarm to signify the end of a quiz or silent reading period. On the last day before Christmas vacation, he had let the alarm go off at two o'clock to herald the end of work and the beginning of their hour-long Christmas party. The other classes reserved only the last twenty minutes of the day for their parties and although Kennan was reprimanded by the principal for not reading the school policy booklet, the incident confirmed the suspicion of most of the children in the school that Mr. Kennan's class was a fun place to be.

Kennan's memory of that Christmas season would always be linked with the musty, dimly lit basement of Reardon's Department Store, a faded and failing five and dime store on Water Street, where he had shopped for his fourth graders' presents late one evening. One by one he had selected the cheap rings, jars of bubble-blowing liquid, toy soldiers, balsa wood gliders, and model kits—each with a special message in mind—taking them home to wrap until the early morning hours.

Kennan had covered the chipped walls of the classroom with posters, including the illustrated map of Boston which had hung in his dorm room for three years. He changed the one bulletin board every three weeks. Now it boasted a huge map of the planet Garden on which the events of The Story were marked.

There was nothing he could do about the faint odor of rotting plaster and seeping sewage that permeated the room. Nor could he change the irritating buzz and flicker of the overhead lights. But he bought an old armchair at a fleamarket and borrowed an area rug from his landlord and every afternoon at one-ten, just after lunch period and just before language arts, Kennan sat in the sprung chair and twenty-seven children crowded into the carpeted corner and the tale resumed.

The Death of the Centaur - Pt. 1

2008-08-11T15:57:00.004-04:00

This is a great short story written by Dan Simmons. It's quite large so I'll be posting it in chunks. Normally I wouldn't do this, but it spoke to me. Since this is my blog, I just kinda do what I want. The narrative jumps perspectives so I've chosen to break it up with each change, but it's all part of one story.

******************

The teacher and the boy climbed the steep arc of lawn that overlooked the southernmost curve of the Missouri River. Occasionally they glanced up at the stately brick mansion that held the high ground. Its tiers of tall windows and wide French doors reflected the broken patterns of bare branches against a gray sky. Both the boy and the young man knew the big house was most likely empty—its owner spent only a few weeks a year in town—but approaching so close afforded them the pleasurable tension of trespass as well as an outstanding view.

A hundred feet from the mansion they stopped climbing and sat down, backs against a tree which shielded them from the slight breeze and protected them from the casual notice of anyone in the house. The sun was very warm, a false spring warmth which would almost surely be driven off by at least one more snowstorm before returning in earnest. The wide expanse of lawn, dropping down to the railroad tracks and the river two hundred yards below, had the faint, green splotchiness of thawing earth. The air smelled like Saturday.

The teacher took up a short blade of grass, rolled it in his fingers, and began to chew on it thoughtfully. The boy pulled a piece, squinted at it for a long second, and did likewise.

"Mr. Kennan, d'you think the river's gonna rise again this year and flood everythin' like it done before?" asked the boy.

"I don't know, Terry," said the young man. He did not turn to look at the boy, but raised his face to the sun and closed his eyes.

The boy looked sideways at his teacher and noticed how the red hairs in the man's beard glinted in the sunlight. Terry put his head back against the rough bark of the old elm but was too animated to shut his eyes for more than a few seconds.

"Do you figure it'll flood Main if it does?"

"I doubt it, Terry. That kind of flood only comes along every few years."

Neither participant in the conversation found it strange that the teacher was commenting on events which he had never experienced first hand. Kennan had been in the small Missouri town just under seven months, having arrived on an incredibly hot Labor Day just before school began. By then the flood had been old news for four months. Terry Bester, although only ten years old, had seen three such floods in his life and he remembered the cursing and thumping in the morning darkness the previous April when the volunteer firemen had called his father down to work on the levee.

A train whistle came to them from the north, the Dopplered noise sounding delicate in the warm air. The teacher opened his eyes to await the coming of the eleven a.m. freight to St. Louis. Both counted the cars as the long train roared below them, diesel throbbing, whistle rising in pitch and then dropping as the last cars disappeared toward town around the bend in the track where they had just walked.

"Whew, good thing we wasn't down there," said Terry loudly.
"Weren't," said Mr. Kennan.

"Huh?" said Terry and looked at the man.

"We weren't down there," repeated the bearded young man with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Yeah," said Terry and there was a silence. Mr. Kennan closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree trunk once again. Terry stood to throw imaginary stones at the mansion. Sensing his teacher's disapproval, he stopped the pantomine and stood facing the tree, resting his chin against the bark and squinting up at the high branches. Far overhead a squirrel leaped.

"Twenty-six," said Terry.

"What's that?"

"Cars on that train. I counted twenty-six."

"Mmmmm. I counted twenty-four."

"Yeah. Me too. That's what I meant to say. Twenty-four, I meant."

Kennan sat forward and rolled the blade of grass in his hands. His thoughts were elsewhere. Terry rode an invisible horse around in tight circles while making galloping sounds deep in his throat. He added the phlegmy noise of a rifle shot, grabbed at his chest, and tumbled off the horse. The boy rolled bonelessly down the hill and came to a contorted, grass-covered stop not three feet from his teacher.
Kennan glanced at him and then looked out at the river. The Missouri moved by, coffee brown, complicated by never repeating patterns of swirls and eddies.

"Terry, did you know that this is the southernmost bend of the Missouri River? Right here?"

"Uh-uh," said the boy.

"It is," said the teacher and looked across at the far shore.

"Hey, Mr. Kennan?"

"Yes?"

"What's gonna happen on Monday?"

"What do you mean?" asked Kennan, knowing what he meant.

"You know, in the Story."

The young man laughed and tossed away the blade of grass. For a brief second Terry thought that his teacher threw like a girl, but he immediately banished that from his mind.

"You know I can't tell you ahead of the others, Terry. That wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"Awww," said the boy but it was a perfunctory whine, and something in the tone suggested that he was pleased with the response. The two stood up. Kennan brushed off the seat of his pants, and then pulled bits of grass from the child's tangled hair. Together they walked back down the hill in the direction of the rail line and town.

Take the F-Train...

2008-08-10T18:42:00.003-04:00

NOW I'm tired. Catherine and I just got back from an exhausting two week vacation that took us to her family in Brantford and then all the way to New York City. It was a ton of fun that only became a bit unpleasant towards the end when both Catherine and I caught colds in New York.

That's right: colds. In August. On vacation.

Catherine is particularly upset about this turn of events because she hasn't been sick in nearly a year. She believes this is due to her frequent hand washing. It sounds less crazy when you talk to her and you can't really ignore the results.

It was a great trip, though. Got to see the sights, walk around Time's Square, and I even got to buy new toys. I've been very spoiled lately considering I picked up some new Transformers Animated figures, two seasons of Quantum Leap, and various other things. Now if I can only convince Catherine to let me buy the new Rock Band drums, I think we'd be set.

I have to admit that having summer's off is a pretty sweet deal. It was the carrot at the end of the stick I'd been dangling in front of myself all year, especially during times when I didn't think I was going to make it. But as things got easier and summer came closer, I held on. I'm really glad that I did as well. That isn't to say that I'm completely anxiety-free about the whole thing as the new school year is just around the bend and I'm as wary as ever. It's not the job per-se, just the level of commitment up front. Having done it for a year so far, I'm good to go. Nicole promised me that it only gets easier. She may have been lying.

I realized the other day that I only have three weeks vacation left of summer. Then I got hit for using the word "only" in relation to three weeks vacation, considering that's how much Catherine gets off all year. I can't help it, though. I'm greedy for downtime. How else am I supposed to be able to beat all my video games?

For now, I'll simply think fondly of New York. We had a tiny hotel room, ate food from a nearby restaurant called 'Hot 'n Crusty' (jokes were made, I assure you), saw a naked cowboy in Time's Square, walked across the Brooklyn bridge, went to Harlem, SoHo, took the Staten Island Ferry, and had amazing milkshakes from Burger Heaven.

Why So Serious?

2008-07-21T19:29:00.002-04:00

Good god, I loved this movie.

Epic at more than 2 1/2 hours, insane due to Heath Ledger's terrifying turn as the clown prince of crime, and brilliant for the angst and inner conflict that Harvey Dent/Two-Face had to go through.

I saw this movie on opening night and I'm still trying to get my bearings. It's rare that a comic book movie is described as being a great film on its own and not just a good comic book film. Yet this work by Christopher Nolan succeeds on so many levels. If it has a flaw, it might be that it was a bit long, but I never felt cheated and everything was wrapped up in a way that I was happy with.

Other directors take note: this is how you do a film with multiple antagonists without alienating or frustrating your audience. And Ledger... wow, does he deserve every bit of praise he's gotten. There were times when I was genuinely afraid of this guy and couldn't predict what he was going to do next.

In short, go see The Dark Knight. If you've already done so, let me know what you think about the movie in the comments section.

Disguised Monkey...

2008-07-15T11:51:00.002-04:00

If I had a monkey, I would borrow my moms sewing machine and make my monkey a little monkey suit. Then if anyone said "That's not a real monkey, it's just a monkey suit. I can see the zipper," I could say "I bet you fifty dollars it is a real monkey" and when they said "that seems like a reasonable bet, you are on," my monkey would take off the monkey suit and they would have to pay me fifty dollars. I would buy drugs with the fifty dollars. For the monkey. So he wouldn't mind spending his life in a monkey suit.

Summer of Night...

2008-07-13T11:31:00.003-04:00

It's hard to believe that we're already three weeks into summer. It goes far too quickly but at the same time I feel like I've already had a ton of vacation. While many of you who teach understand the need for the time off to recharge, I'm kind of shocked at the number of people I run into who think that the whole gig is nothing but gravy.

Still, I get paid for sitting on my butt so I suppose I can't complain too much.

I bit the bullet and signed up at the local gym. I have far too much extra weight and while I tried to give it away no one seemed interested in taking it from me. This place seems pretty cool though with more than 70 classes a week I can sign up for, a pool, a hottub, a sauna, and even a machine that wrings out your bathing suit for you. I know, sounds crazy doesn't it?

I'm still tinkering with the blog and adding new sidebar photos and the like. I have several ready to go but blogger isn't letting me tweak it properly at the moment.

With summer here, I thought I would have more time to just sit around and play games, but my library course keeps me pretty busy most of the time. Once I finish this post I have a bit of work to do for it, then I might finally get around to playing Mass Effect, a game that I bought two months ago.

I still whole-heartedly suggest that you go out and try the new Transformers: Animated cartoon show. It has a lot of potential and I really liked it. The animation took a bit of getting used to, but the plots are solid, the characters fun, and the amount of shout-outs to Generation 1 era geeks like myself keep it nice and fresh.

Not much else is going on. David returns from China this week for a stay of, well, however long until he leaves again. I don't think he has an exact plan. Catherine will take some of her vacation time then with the two of us going to NYC for a week in the beginning of August. I saw Hellboy 2 yesterday which was a good movie. Lots of fun but I couldn't help but watch it very critically to see how well Del Toro will handle the upcoming Hobbit films. The jury is still out.

I'm doing a lot more reading lately as well. I've been making my way through most of Dan Simmons' body of work (Hyperion, Endymion) and I've been enjoying it quite a bit. I suggest you pick up The Terror if you like his body of work. I'm also really attached to a short story he wrote about teaching (he was an elementary school teacher for 18 years) called 'The Death of the Centaur.' I might look for a copy online and then post segments of it here for you to read. It's quite well done.

A New Look...

2008-07-06T19:33:00.006-04:00

Sometimes the best thing to do with the old is to chuck it out. While I did love the old template, it felt like a change was needed. I took a look at a huge selection of available templates and all the best seemed to be taken by Wordpress, so I went the obvious route and chose one based on an interest of mine I may have mentioned.

"If you don't like it, you can shove it. But you don't like it, you love it."

Anyway. Life moves on. I'm going to be updating and changing the pictures on the side and generally sprucing up the old girl over the next couple of days. Why not? I have lots of vacation time and only a stupid library AQ course to take for half the day. I spent too long today working on a presentation that will only last five minutes tomorrow, but it will be the best five minutes that class has seen. Too bad this isn't saying much.

I'm seeing lots of movies as well. Hancock was great until it went way off track towards the end. I still don't know what the hell happened. Wall*E was brilliant. Hands down one of the best movies I've seen this year.

Congratulations go out to Aaron and Christa who are now engaged! They grow up so fast. I told Aaron he wasn't allowed to get married yet, but he seems hell bent on it anyway. What are you going to do?

P l e e e z e back at ya!

2008-06-20T16:25:00.002-04:00

Today I went to school and got nothing new achieved or done. It's like we're done our work and can't admit it to ourselves, so we sit around, crack jokes, and then go home. Really, there are worse ways to make money.

I had a tuna melt for lunch! Very exciting.

What was NOT exciting was The Happening. This is a terrible movie and I implore you not to see it. I saw Forgetting Sarah Marshall as well and even the copious amounts of Kristen Bell couldn't convince me this was the new Superbad. Funny, though not hilarious. You see WAY too much of Jason Segel's schlong. The word 'schlong' should appear more in daily conversation.

Seems a Bit on-the-nose...

2008-06-19T20:32:00.001-04:00

But I couldn't resist anyway.

It Only Hurt a Lot...

2008-06-13T16:07:00.002-04:00

Well, that's that. Or, it pretty much is that. Done, that is.

Other than a bit of marking and some time spent doing professional development for a couple of days, I've finished my first year of teaching. Without a doubt, this was one of the hardest, most time-consuming things I have done in my life. It's also one of the most worthwhile. There's a certain satisfaction in life that comes from looking around at everything you have and everything you're doing and knowing that it's all going to turn out just fine.

There were many days when it didn't feel like it. In many ways, this semester wasn't as good as my first. Switching schools, dealing with new people, and teaching a course I'm not qualified for all put me through the ringer. But I worked hard (too hard as Catherine can attest to) and it's pretty much done.

Crazy.

So, I did what most normal people would do. I went to see The Incredible Hulk this afternoon and enjoyed it quite a bit. It's not the downer-fest that Ang Lee's Hulk was and the fact that Iron Man shows up at the end is pretty cool. It delivers action and two beefy characters tearing up Yonge Street.

Otherwise, things are okay. Married life is wonderful and Catherine deserves many awards for putting up with me. Yet on top of all of this, she even went out and bought me a Transformers Animated Starscream figure. I tell you, this girl is gold.

What else can I say? Not much, because the buzzer just went letting me know that the laundry is finished and that I must continue on with my house-husband duties. My wife expects a clean home, though I don't have to worry about dinner tonight because she's going to Blue Jays game and I'm meeting up with Scott, Ben, and the Northview Heights crew (where I did my practicum) for beer and mayhem. Scott said he was paying, so that's even better.

Behave!

Strawberry Lemonade...

2008-04-16T18:38:00.003-04:00

I have a weakness for Powerade beverages. I don't know why. Maybe it's because it reminds me of the youthful bliss that was Kool Aid, or maybe it's because drinking any kind of pop gives me acid indigestion.

That's what I'm drinking now to try and steady my tired nerves. The semester is winding down, but I'm just gearing up. I gave my second professional development workshop to teachers on internet use and now I'm planning to bring MacHomer to the school. This means filling an auditorium of 500 seats, collecting money, stage set up, and all sorts of other things I inadvertently volunteered to do when I said "Hey, have you seen this show?"

Dumbass.

It keeps me busier than I'd like at a time when I have no energy left. Nic and a few others can understand the insane workload that goes into this job, but for those who don't experience it and scoff while mentioning summers off... bite me.

In other news, I didn't get surplussed at my school, meaning that they intend to keep me there next year as well. Seeing as how I don't want this to happen, I'm not happy. The irony is not lost on me since I fought like hell to stay in two schools I loved and now a school I don't like has sunk its teeth into my ass.

At least I'm still good looking.

The Floodgate...

2008-04-13T19:19:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I forget that I have this blog. Well, that's not entirely true as I remember it's here, but I forget what motivation it was that kept me working on it for so long in the past. I think it was the unending days of boredom at my last job that forced me into finding some kind of creative outlet. These days I have so many outlets that I pulled back from this one.

But you don't care about that, or if you do it's only to be polite. The stuff you MIGHT care about though... that I'll write about.

Married Life:
Once you're married, things don't really change. The thing that takes the most amount of effort to get over is the change of status. When it occurs to you that you now have a spouse, that knocks the wind out of you a little. The first time this happened to me was at the kick-ass wedding party when the bartender asked if I'd like my wife to join us in having a shot. At first I didn't know what he meant, but then I clued in: I'm MARRIED.

And it's good. Life, that is. We had a great honeymoon in Cuba followed by a terrible time adjusting to going back to work. The honeymoon wasn't entirely smooth as we were trapped on an airplane for 10 hours and delayed by a day, but once you're there and enjoying a beach things get much more relaxing.

The Job:
It is both wonderful and awful. It's amazing when you make a difference and you never really feel as though you have wasted your day. Things go wrong, more often than not, and you're never short of stress but there's always something positive to push you in the right direction.

That's not to say I'm happy yet because that will still take a while. I'm not sure I'm at the right school for me and I'm going to explore the possibility of changing that aspect of my work. First year is often described as being pure hell and I'm pleased to say that it isn't PURE hell, just hell of a sort. The workload is never ending and I'm not sure I'll ever feel as though I can relax. Even now I'm thinking about work.

Other stuff:
My father is moving on with his life. Sadly, his relationship didn't work out the way he'd hoped and he's sold the house in Guelph and will be taking up residence in a new bachelor pad. I'm heading down there in a couple of weeks to help him settle in and to put my stamp on the place, but I can't help but worry. I love my father very much and seeing anyone go through the sad reality of a breakup isn't good, but this is my dad. I want to help him any way I can.

Truffle is still happy and warbling. She eats her treats, gets her time in the sun, and is generally very happy.

Movie season is almost here and I'm going to see Iron Man, The Dark Knight, Wall*E, and a few others for sure.

Television season is on the rebound and I'm happy to see The Office and Battlestar Galactica once again.

I have become a rock legend, at least in Rock Band and Guitar Hero.

More stuff happened, I'm sure.

Married!

2008-03-01T12:39:00.001-05:00

Today Catherine and I get married. We're both quite excited and wanted to thank everyone for sharing in our day and making our lives as incredible as they have been.

I'd say more, but I'm running late and I think my bride to be would be upset!

Thanks again for an amazing day!

All of my Patience...

2008-02-06T17:13:00.000-05:00

It's testing all of my patience, this new job. Just when I think I've got a grasp on some part of it, the rug gets pulled out.

I'm getting a little bit friendlier with some of the people in the department, which is a huge help, but I'm still feeling like an outsider. I don't really expect this to change too much, though I figure it will get better.

What's pissing me off now is my students. If I could just get rid of five of them, my job would be much better. I have an academic history class (grade 10) that is driving me insane. My classroom management skills are quite good but these kids are just treating it like a constant party or as though it's the end of a semester. It's taking everything I have to keep things moving along and at least three times today I had to stop class and attempt to appeal to their better nature.

It's not working.

Soon, I think, I may stop working myself. It's hard enough just making it through the year, but when students leave the room and you start throwing chalk and crying it isn't a good sign.

I miss happier days. Unreasonable though it is, I'm super-ticked at my old school for letting me go. I pray that decision wasn't the beginning of the end for me.

Peril...

2008-02-02T18:49:00.000-05:00

My brain and heart feel as though they are in mortal peril. If I knew where I was going to wind up in September for school then I would feel much better about my current teaching assignment. I could plough through.

As it is, I feel myself circling despair which is unfortunate because great things are coming in the next month and a bit. I get married in less than a month to the most wonderful person in the world and then we're going to Cuba for our honeymoon. I love my wedding ring and wear it every day already.

Yet all of this is tainted simply because I can't stop whining about my transfer. I should be happy that I have a contract when so many people can't even get supply work, and yet I'm feeling burnt out. Worse than that, I simply don't want to go. I feel like I've already given everything I had to give and did it well. I'm satisfied with what I've done and it breaks my heart because it feels like I'm starting all over again. Like I built the most amazing house out of Lego and someone comes along and smashes it down just as I reach for the camera to take a picture.

I know the first year is about survival and I would have done just that, in style, with my old school. But starting over when I was already feeling tired? That's going to be the true test. Either I stand or I fall. I'm worried I'll fall and I don't want to have to feel this way when I'm about to get married.

I know this happens to many teachers, but I don't know any of them. I need a support group who really understands what I'm going through.

Begin Again (and again)...

2008-01-31T16:27:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I start at my new school. While it may be hard to see on the outside, I'm actually a bit of a wreck. The anxiety, fear, and insecurity from September have all returned and I'm feeling more than a little burnt out already.

While it is true that it's all come back, it's also true that it isn't as intense as it once was. For a little while in September I thought I was going to die. This isn't much of an exaggeration because I was barely in control of myself to the point where I went for medical help. This time around I've put in a lot more "flight hours" as Scott calls them and I'm feeling more calm about everything.

I still don't want to go there and I'm super-pissed about leaving my first school. The problem with being angry is that I have no one to be angry at other than the system. It was neither my choice nor theirs that I had to leave and hopefully I'll be back for next year.

I think there will be a good amount of support at the new place, though. I've met one or two people that look like I can rely on them and instead of reinventing the wheel, which I'm totally guilty of doing last semester, I'm going to borrow much more heavily from others, particularly for my history course as I'm not certified to teach it. I feel a bit guilty about doing that though it's the smart thing to do. I don't know why I have this unrealistic attitude that I'm supposed to emerge from teacher's college with full binders and ten years of experience. It's stupid. Hell, I've even seen Scott go through other binders for assignments so I don't see why I shouldn't do the same (and Scott is the best there is).

So the new semester starts tomorrow. I don't want to go. I REALLY don't want to go, but I know Catherine is counting on me to make it through my first year. I owe her and myself that much at least. I wish it were easier than this, but I'll make do. Everyone says the first year is about survival and I've made it half way.

If you can, try to help me make it through the rest by continuing your support. It means a lot to me. And to Catherine, who could use a break.

Half Done or All Done?

2008-01-27T13:32:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I finished marking the last exam papers that my grade 11 class wrote. It represents the culmination of more than four and a half months of work and a broken bottle of emotions that I thought, at times, was going to rip me apart.

Without a doubt, that was the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my entire life. The volume of work, for one, was astronomical. It doesn't help that I maybe put a bit too much effort into some of my lessons, but at the same time I can't really see myself doing much less because of some odd standard I've set for myself.

But, with pride, I can say that I survived my first semester of my first year. For a few weeks at the beginning, I didn't think I was going to be able to do that. No one, except for maybe Catherine, really understands how much pressure that was for me. How hard that was for me. I was an emotional wreck.

Rather than give up, I feel like I succeeded. And not only a little bit, either, but a great deal. My students threw a going-away party for me, complete with cake and a gift. The staff, including Mary Jane and Doug, bought me going away presents and gave me cards. Mary Jane and Doug even sang a song they wrote about me to the tune of U2's "One."

I didn't want any part of that school when I started. I didn't like the school, the people, the commute, any of it. Most of that was my fear talking and the lack of guidance that first month didn't help. However, now that the end is here, I can say that I learned a lot, worked hard, and developed professional relationships that were invaluable. It's funny, but now that I have to go I really want to stay. I don't know if it's because my first school is that great, but rather that I'm comfortable. That I earned my place there through hard work both in my own classroom and in the school community.

Now I have to start all over again. I'm not really thrilled about going to this new place because of a bad first impression with a couple of the staff and the general attitude being thrown about this supposed academic institution. That said, Doug freaked me out at first and wound up being one of my closest friends there. Life can be funny sometimes.

So I'll do my best to keep an open mind and to get through another semester. While I feel it cosmically unfair to be thrown into another anxiety-riddled situation in so short a time (this is essentially my fourth school in a year and a half) I know that I don't have a choice. I'll do my best.

My first year is half over and while I feel nearly burnt out already, I'm hoping the energy that comes from being in a new school will give me a bit of a boost. I have to hope that otherwise I'll quit now. I'm beyond exhausted. On top of all of this, I want to enjoy the fun and pleasure that comes from getting ready for my wedding with Catherine. This kind of stuff makes it hard to do, but we're going out now to look for rings. I may wonder sometimes about what I've gotten myself into with teaching, but not for a moment do I worry about my life with my girl.

And that, more than anything, will get me through. Thanks to all of you for your support.

Another Year is Done...

2007-12-31T14:26:00.000-05:00

And what a year it has been.

Really, it's been incredible. This has also been one of the hardest years that I think I have ever had to endure. From finishing teacher's college to starting my first teaching job, I think I've had enough from the change machine.

And yet 2008 looks to be more of the same. For those of you who don't know, it looks like I'm going to be unable to stay at my current school. They love me and the feeling is mutual, however the numbers just don't support my staying. So that means come February I'll be hopefully starting at a brand new school. I just don't know where yet.

But that's a problem for next year. Right now, I'm just extremely grateful for the year I just had.

Catherine and I are engaged, probably going to get married in March. I turned 30 this year which is quite scary, all the teaching stuff, went on a great summer camping trip, got an Xbox 360 and am currently tearing it up with Bioshock and Rock Band.

Christmas was amazing as well. My brother, Catherine and myself bought gifts for our parents. Mom got a digital camera and we polished and framed my grandfather's World War II medals for my father. That last gift was especially important to me and to my father as well. I took a video of the moment that the medals were given and as much as I would like to post it here, it's really quite emotional and important to me. Thus, I think I have to keep it to myself.

School turned out better than I thought it would. My students even threw me a surprise birthday party, something I'm told is an extremely rare thing for students to do. Those people are incredible and I hope they get the best that life has to offer.

Still, I have amazing friends, soon an amazing wife, and a great family. As much stress and difficulty that comes at us in life can bring us down, you just need to stop and look around to see how wonderful things really are. That said, I'm enjoying my much-needed vacation and I don't go back to work for a full week yet, so that softens the blow. For those you who have to go back to work on Wednesday, you have my sympathies.

For now, Catherine and I are about to head out to a New Year's Eve party at Patti's house that promises to be a good time. Then I'll come home and watch a bit more of season three of Lost!

Take care of yourselves.

Life is Good...

2007-11-25T20:39:00.000-05:00

As much as I've complained in the past, and sometimes I've had reason to, I must say that overall life is good. Amazing, actually.

I had the most amazing birthday week ever. My students threw a surprise birthday party for me on Thursday complete with ice cream cake and pizza. I was totally stunned.

Then on Friday I turned 30 and during our dinner out, I proposed to Catherine and I'm delighted to say that she accepted. Yes, it's true. We're now engaged.

I'm still stunned that it finally happened. I'm incredibly happy and I can't wait for us to continue sharing our lives together. We'll get married sooner rather than later, I expect, and I'll ballpark an estimate of about six months or so.

I'll get into more detail about how I proposed in a post later this week. It's a sweet story and I want to do it justice.

Last night was amazing as well. A ton of my friends and family gathered at the Bow & Arrow pub at Yonge & Davisville to help celebrate my birthday. It was a great night filled with drinks, fun, and catching up. Best birthday ever.

On top of all that, Catherine organized a group of my friends and family to buy an Xbox 360 for me. I was totally stunned. I'd be jokingly bugging Catherine about getting me one for a while now, but I didn't think it was going to happen. And then, there it was.

I also got a few gift certificates, a t-shirt, a couple bottles of wine, a new Nintendo controller and game, as well as a couple of books on top of many, many cards.

It will be a time that I won't ever forget. My new fiancee put together an amazing party with help from her friend, Patti.

Thanks to everyone who showed up and contributed to an outstanding time. In no particular order, Jamie and Nicole (my awesome houseguests), Paul, Vicky, Josh, Steph, Patti, Dave, Jamie, Victoria, sensei George, Scott, Ben, Jennifer, my mom, dad, uncle Brian, Barb, Doug, Mary Jane, Justin, Swapna, Traci, Peter, Rhonda, Darryl, Jeromy, Megan Griffith-Green, and Julia.

You're all awesome!

I wish this weren't so true...

2007-11-16T21:04:00.001-05:00

Apparently I Offend the Mentally Challenged...

2007-11-11T17:41:00.000-05:00

As a resident of a big city like Toronto, you have to get used to the fact that because of the large number of people clustered in one place, you're going to run into some extreme or unusual personalities on a fairly regular basis. After a while you become somewhat numb to this kind of intrusion in your life and take it as being par for the course. Most of the time you can avoid any meaningful interaction, and other times you have to deal with it whether you like it or not.

While in Dominion today picking up a few essentials for a friend laid up in the hospital, I somehow invoked the ire of a man I can only assume is mentally challenged in some way. He was a large, round man with a scraggly beard, blue jacket, and sweat pants. Were it not for the hostile attitude, he could have passed for a department store Santa Claus.

What I did to insult this man was simple: I patiently stood in line behind him.

My attention focused on another part of the store, I was surprised when all of a sudden I was rammed in the midsection by his large butt. I looked to see why I was rudely pushed back a few feet and saw him fully bent over. Rather than get into an argument, I just assumed that he dropped something and accidentally bumped into me. I waited a moment for an apology that did not come.

"That guy just butt-rammed me," I told Catherine. She found this quite humourous.

In the end, not a big deal. Another few moments pass and once again my attention drifts away. Catherine grabs my arm as all of a sudden the basket the man was using was on the floor beside me. I didn't see him do it, but Catherine told me that he flung it back behind him in an attempt to hit me. By this point, I still hadn't said a word to the man or even looked at him.

Rather than get angry, I'm mostly just amused by this point. As the man lifts up his wallet to comb through it for change, he all of a sudden stretches one hand, and one finger in particular, out towards me. I laugh a little at this point.

He then leans over to the cashier and mutters something about his dislike for me. It was either that I'm "a bad man" or that I'm "an asshole." It amounts to the same thing either way. He shuffles off and the cashier flashes me a grin and offers an apology. I told her it wasn't necessary because up until that point my day had actually been quite dull.

Student Work...

2007-11-04T17:08:00.000-05:00

Now that I have students, it would be remiss of me not to comment on some of the more interesting things they hand in to me. Most of it is innocent mistakes, others are intended to elicit more interesting responses. Here are a few highlights from my grade 11 university class:

"If I had $500 right now, I would go downtown and treat myself with a satisfying meal that I hadn't eaten before. After that I would buy myself a pair of jeans, shoes, winter coats and many shirts that I would use for other days. If I had change, I would throw them to the bums and see what happened. That would be absolute amusement."

"If I had $500, I would first go to a store called "Mind Games" and buy electric shock gum. Then I would use the money that is left to throw an ice cream party for all my friends and family. Then I'd pull the electric shock gum prank on everyone who comes."

"If I was rich for a day, I would first buy a new computer as well as a laptop. Then I would buy hot melted fudge and throw it at the homeless. I'd then buy every Super Nintendo game in existence."

"...and the biggest thing I want to do is make my whole room Mickey Mouse. Posters, pictures, figures, bed sheet, carpet, etc. All Mickey Mouse."

"I have just found a flat $100 bill on the floor. What shall I do with it? I think I should take all my friends to the buffet. And then they are going to have to owe me, so each one of them will take me to a buffet which means that I pay once and get to go there ten times.

Or should I take my family out for dinner so they can say 'wow, he has grown up?'"

Some poetry examples:
Blue
I am writing with a blue pen in my hands
And I know I am not making any sense.

Mouse
It wanders around the house
Some call them mouse
But some call them rodents
It may be a pet, it may be trouble

2007-10-28T21:57:00.000-04:00

...and then there was one.

Congrats to Jer on making it to 30. No one saw that happening. I think we all expected you to disappear into the woods and commune with nature. Instead, life is going pretty well for you at the moment.

And now I'm all alone. Out of that core group, I remain the sole person in my 20s. Though admittedly this is a window that is fast growing smaller and smaller, I cling to this desperate notion that I am somehow not yet an adult, though the paycheck and responsibilities would seem to indicate otherwise.

Until I turn 30, I shall remain here in seclusion playing the newly acquired Guitar Hero 3. That is if I can get Catherine to stop playing it. She's pretty good, actually. Now we just need friends who also have the game on Wii for some fun internet play.

I can't believe I'm going to be dirty 30 in less than a month.

Happy Birthday Jer... you old fart.

The Gap...

2007-10-21T17:15:00.000-04:00

So, how long has it been since I wrote last? A couple days? No? Okay, so it has been more than a month. I've been busy. I may have gone a little crazy.

More than seven weeks have now passed since I started my teaching career. I must admit that the last time I wrote on this blog that I wasn't doing well. If the post seemed grave I was actually putting a happy spin on my mood at the time. I really wasn't well.

It was without a doubt the biggest change I've had to deal with in my life to date and the most stressful. As I expected, though, it's also been one of the most positive things I've ever done in my life.

Don't get me wrong, I'd still love to head for the hills. This is an exhausting job that you never really get any down time from. It's Sunday now and I spent four and a half hours working today alone and I'm not done all the things that I'd like to be done.

Stress aside, I've been slowly finding ways to be normal again. This is hard considering I'm myself to such an extreme at school. This job is almost as much theatrical work as it is anything else. Your job becomes much more easy if people like coming to your class. I have a mini score sheet and more than 15 so far have told me that I'm their favourite teacher. I like that. It's a nice verification that I'm at least on the right track.

What else has been going on? It's all a bit of a blur, really. I'm finally getting through Metroid Prime 3, Guitar Hero 3 comes out next weekend, some guy named Jer is turning 30 soon, and I'm having my first birthday party in more than 10 years late November. Most of you will have already been invited via Facebook, but everyone is welcome to come.

It's on November 24th at a pub called the Bow & Arrow. We have the upstairs level rented out and will have appetizers and other assorted foods. It promises to be a good time.

So yes, I've written on the blog again. I expected to continue doing this with my frequency of old.

I'm back. Cower in fear.

Two Weeks Down...

2007-09-16T13:45:00.000-04:00

I don't know how I made it this far, but I did. Since I last wrote, I was carefully trying to be optimistic. This plan fell apart the next day and Monday morning in particular was difficult for me.

Slowly but surely, things have been getting better. I'm slowly returning to normal and though I'm still stressed most of the time, I can finally think again.

This would be great except now Catherine has gone away for a week-long vacation with her parents. It's a much needed and deserved break for her, but the needy part of me just wants her back. Still, I'm good enough now that I can handle the work and pressure, but jeez, talk about the deep end! I send her regular text messages asking her to come back. I don't think she's taking me too seriously.

My mother is coming soon to spend the night. This will be good as it's a needed distraction to keep me feeling as calm and chilled as possible. I'm planned for the next two weeks, both concretely (in the case of the grade 11 classes) and abstractly (in the case of the grade 10 class). This helps a lot in lowering stress because I promised Catherine that I wouldn't do any work today.

I've managed to keep that promise, but I'm still a bit agitated. It's been a long time since I could really just take time for myself to relax and I'm finding it a strange and odd feeling not to be working my butt off. Instead I watched TMNT and now I'm going to play Metroid Prime 3 for the first 'real' time since I bought it nearly a month ago.

My plan is to approach normal again as soon as possible. Wish me luck on that.

In Search of Optimism...

2007-09-08T10:47:00.000-04:00

The title of this post sounds bleak, I know, but it's also the struggle in which I find myself daily. Many of you have called or written to ask how my first day (and now week) of teaching was and to be honest I can't give a fair assessment because my opinion varies almost minute to minute.

There are a lot of good things to like about the school and the job. Two of my classes require the same preparation so that makes things easier. One of my classrooms has couches and a personal computer for me to use. That's pretty nifty. Most of my students, though they look like deer in headlights, are very nice and I'm sure I'm going to enjoy their company.

The bad things I won't elaborate too much on because it doesn't do me any good to dwell. My negative feelings, which currently outrank the positive because it's human nature to look at the bad rather than the good, are something I'm dealing with. Ask any teacher and they will tell you this isn't a simple job where you put in the hours and go home without a worry, but this volume and stress is compounded to an insane degree when you're first starting out. It probably wouldn't be so bad if there was a department head or someone there that I felt I could turn to for all of my questions and concerns. It's not that people are unhelpful at this school, it's that currently the whole thing is an unknown quantity and people are sorting out their own courses.

How was my first week? Well, I got through it. I think I did my lessons well and I'm prepped for all of next week already. This is a very good thing, yet right now I'm filled with the anxiety of the weeks to come and the steep learning curve. But Catherine assures me I can do it and I can't think of anyone else who knows my limits better.

A Rare Moment of Calm...

2007-09-03T21:24:00.001-04:00

In about 9 hours I'll be waking up and starting my new job and God willing, my new career. I'm feeling positive about the whole thing, but that could be because of the medication I got from the doctor yesterday to calm me the hell down.

Catherine, as always, is my inspiration and my guiding light. I wouldn't be anywhere near the man I hope I am today without her. Catherine, I love you very much.

Now let us pray. Day 1 awaits.

Freaking Out...

2007-08-28T17:40:00.000-04:00

I know that many people become teachers every year and most of them manage to survive and even thrive.

This does not help me right now because I start teaching a week from today and for some reason all the confidence I used to have has evaporated and I'm in full panic mode. I have forgotten how to teach, they will see that I'm a fraud, and then I'll be out of work.

Or I could be fine.

I KNOW I'll probably be fine. That doesn't do much to calm me down right now. I'm trying to plan out things, but not having even seen the English office, much less the school beyond the front entrance, is not helping.

People say the first year or two are the worst for teaching. I wish no one had really told me this because I'm already feeling under the gun. I'm petrified that I'm going to screw up teaching and give a shoddy education. I keep feeling like I'm going to show up, go into shock, and just not be able to do a thing. Kind of like a deer in headlights.

I wish there was some sort of tranquilizer here. I'm totally out of my depth.

The Time's Are A-Changin'...

2007-08-23T12:03:00.000-04:00

Today is a big day. It's exciting and terrifying all at once. I've alternately jumped for joy and been shaken to the core. My poor heart can't take all of this.

The most important piece of news is that today is Catherine and I's 8th anniversary. Yes, we've now been together for 8 years which is a huge amount of time. We met last century, took a trip to Jasper, and have been together ever since.

I know many people have often found it strange that our two personalities not only found each other but function so well. I'm talkative and Catherine is... not so much. However we have our own language that has carried us through thick and thin and to this day we love each other very much. I can't imagine how difficult it has been for her to support me through the past year, but not only did she do it with a smile but she made me feel like I was doing the right thing the whole way through. She's something truly special and I'm incredibly lucky to have her.

The other bit of news, less important, is that I took a job in the TDSB today. This opportunity has positive and negative aspects, but the positive outweigh the others enough that I just couldn't say no.

I'll be teaching two grade 11 English courses at the academic/university level and one grade 10 locally developed class. What the LD class focuses on is generally comprehension and general skills for kids to use in the real world.

Sounds great? Well, it's not bad. The school is on a nice piece of property and the principal seems really relaxed. She's very excited about having me come to the school and is promising support out the ying-yang, so I can't complain.

The downside to all of this is that it is what's known as a .5 contract. The contract part of this sentence is good because it means I'm in the system as a full TDSB employee and that puts me first in line to get a new job down the line. The .5 sucks because I've only got a job at this school until the end of the first semester in January. At that point, the school either keeps me (if they can) or else I'm assigned another .5 somewhere else in the city.

I could have waited to get an LTO (long-term occasional) but the nature of an LTO is that it can last one month, two months, six months, or the school year. As a contract employee, I get full benefits, start my pension, and I'm in place for regular raises. An LTO doesn't get these things and has to reapply to the school board every year.

So I'm in a good position, but not perfect. I certainly didn't expect to get this job because I didn't think I was that great in the interview and I had delays getting to the school because of the TTC.

Now I just have to panic because I don't have a freakin' clue what I'm doing from this point on.

I'll avoid thinking about it as Catherine and I are going away to Niagara Falls this weekend for our anniversary. At least we have two things to celebrate!

Superbad & Super-socks...

2007-08-19T19:46:00.001-04:00

First off, I went to see Superbad on Friday afternoon. All that I knew was that it was getting really positive reviews and that it was supposedly funny. Turns out that it IS very funny and has jumped up to be in my top five favourites for movies this year. That's pretty high praise, but this movie had me laughing the whole way through... even with its 'Andrew Loh, NO!' moment.

Jamie in particular will greatly enjoy this film. I think Catherine might like it, but she's an odd duck when it comes to movies. She picked out American Dreamz to watch tonight and it was possibly one of the worst things I have seen in my life. It made me hate breathing.

But Catherine does have her pleasant moments. Last night I was expressing some doubt over my future as a teacher (I do it to get the sympathy) and I said I was going to go back to school.

"No," she said. "Don't do that!"

"I'm going to," I replied. "I'm going to go back to school so I can join a circus."

"What are you going to do in the circus? Trapeze?"

"No."

"Clown?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Um. I'll be the fat lady."

And without missing a beat, she said "but you're not a lady."

Silence. Then she started laughing uncontrollably having realized that she just implied I was fat. In about a minute, she started to stammer an explanation in between taking breaths from laughing. I stopped her short. "It's a little late for that!"

But I still like her. For those of you who know, there's been an ongoing debate between Catherine and I over the prospect of marriage. She's been hesitant about taking my last name, but for some oddly traditional reason I feel strongly that it's important to show some kind of cohesiveness as a family unit. She reasonably asked why I wouldn't take her name and I told her that I don't truck with that idea.

After some time, she finally said that she'd take my name if we got married, but if she did this then I must provide her with a pair of socks bearing the family name. Catherine has a thing for socks, don't ask me to explain it. I agreed and while she was in the bathroom, I grabbed a pair of white socks and a magic marker and then proceeded to write 'Wilkinson' on each sock. I then placed them on her pillow. Catherine, ever the great detective, walked into the room and laid on top of the socks. Sensing my exasperation, I told her to look on her pillow and she obeyed by looking on the wrong side. I swear it felt like I was in a comedy.

Eventually she found the socks and laughed quite a bit. The big surprise was on me, however, because I think she's going to keep the socks. At least now I know what to ask her for my birthday.

Getting To Be That Time...

2007-08-17T10:01:00.000-04:00

The next two weeks is going to be a test of my patience, stamina, and my resolve. Yes, once again it's hiring time in the TDSB.

For those of you who weren't paying as close attention the first time around, I turned down the first job offer I had for teaching. It was for a year round alternative school, and while I'm sure it's an excellent place to teach, it just really wasn't what I had been working and building towards for so long.

So as I wait patiently, I'm doing my best to fill up my days. I've hit the stage where all of my time blends together and any ambition I might have to write the next great novel, or indeed even go for a walk, seems to fall by the wayside. I expect this to be a smaller problem next summer as I might have enough money to actually do things.

Today, I'll probably just watch television. Catherine and I just finished watching Freaks & Geeks, and during the day I watch The 4400, Eureka (not the cheesy Canadian kids show, but a sci-fi show out of the US), and season 3 of Deadwood. See? I'm productive. I think I might even go out of the apartment to the movie theater to watch Superbad.

Next week I'm hoping will be much different. I'd like to be hired for the school I most want to work at on Monday so I can actually start planning. The only stress factor at this point is the unknown, so I'd like to get that out of my way and then I can enjoy these last couple of weeks off.

If you're wondering about the image at the top, it's from an upcoming issue of Astonishing X-Men. I made it into a wallpaper which looks quite spiffy on a widescreen monitor.

By the by, Random Changes is being updated regularly these days and is all caught up on some story called World War Hulk.

Does Whatever an Iron Can...

2007-08-10T12:13:00.000-04:00

An actual shot of the in-movie armour that Robert Downey Jr. wears in the upcoming Iron Man movie. Having seen the trailer from the San Diego comic con I just have to say... damn. This looks like it'll be an amazing flick.

Jon Favreau (Swingers) is directing and it has a decent supporting cast as well.

Do you think I can rent out that armour to wear around the house while I'm waiting for school to start? Or would that just be weird?

Glory Days...

2007-08-08T16:24:00.000-04:00

My quest for glory has finally come to an end. After months of searching, I know have all five of the autobots that appeared in the Transformers movie.

Yes, you read that correctly. I actually did something worthwhile with my summer. I read message boards and travelled to Toys 'R Us and Walmart on a regular basis. You know, now that I've typed that out, it doesn't sound as cool as I thought it was a minute ago.

Well, despite what any of you think, this WAS a lot of hard work. A few of the figures were really easy to find such as Ratchet, Ironhide and Jazz, but the last two were the toughest at all.

I got a tip from an online message board that they had the Optimus Prime figure I wanted (the $30 one, not the $70), was finally at the Dufferin Mall Walmart. I went there the next day and they had four left. Since then, I have been to a dozen or more stores and I have never seen this figure on the shelves again. Many people are still searching for him from my Transformers message board. This was REALLY lucky. Every other figure in that size class could be picked up today, but that one is just gone for good.

Yesterday, I managed to track down Bumblebee. His first toy was based on the 1976 camaro, but this is a crap figure. Poorly designed and just doesn't look good at all. The 2008 Camaro, however, is a work of art and possibly one of the best Transformer toys I have ever seen. As such, he's almost always sold out and nearly impossible to find. Scalpers have been known to clear out stores where he's found because he goes for around $35 US on eBay. A friend from my board found him and tucked him away in a Walmart in Scarborough, so I made the trek out yesterday.

Yes, I know you all think this is a lot of effort to go through for a toy. Heck, I've even made Paul and Victoria stop at stores so I could search. I had my Dad search in Guelph before he came to see me last week.

But now, my struggle is over. I know it'd be a waste to actually call and ask stores if they have figures in stock. My favorite example of the futility of this action was when I was in a Walmart a couple months ago looking for Marvel Legends figures. I asked the stockperson if they had the new figures in. He looked at my blankly. What follows is the actual conversation.

"No, we don't carry those figures."

"You don't carry Marvel Legends?" I asked.

"No, we don't."

At this point I reach over and pull one of the older series figures off the shelf. "You don't carry these?"

"No, we don't have those."

"You don't carry the toy that I'm currently holding in my hand that I just pulled off your shelf?"

"No."

"Oh, well then. My mistake," I conclude in a very pleasant tone of voice. I'm trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the whole thing. I put the toy back on the shelf and thank him for his time.

This is one reason of many why I should be in charge of the planet.

Wii Meant Well...

2007-07-31T09:33:00.000-04:00

Josh and Steph have gotten married. It was a nice, small wedding and the reception afterwards was fantastic. Getting to sit with Jamie, Nicole, Vicky, and Paul made the evening that much more fun. Heck, we even got small board game keychains as wedding presents. This I like.

We hit a small snag in our group effort for a wedding gift. As Jamie put it, the three men sat around my apartment two weeks ago congratulating each other on our gift idea as though we had won the nobel prize. This would have been fine if our purchase, a new Wii console and a few accessories, hadn't been mirrored by at least two other guests at the wedding.

We spent time suggesting a variety of other uses for the surplus Wiis. You could put on the bedroom, one in the living room, one in the bathroom etc. Or else you could use two as a sort of sandwich maker. Maybe use one to prop up a shelf or a couch. Use one as a hammer to put nails in the wall where you'll display another Wii.

The possibilities are endless.

At any rate, congratulations to the happy couple.

In other news, some days I'm bored. I do my best to fill it up with activities that I'll enjoy, but some days it just feels like pulling teeth.

The danger here isn't that I'll die from boredom but rather that I might get used to the tranquil pointlessness that I'm now confronted with. I made an attempt to divert myself off of this path with something of a summer job, but that was a lot more hassle than it was worth and not something that I'm likely to attempt again. At least not in that manner.

For the past two weeks I worked as an ESL teacher at a language center around Yonge and Eglinton. It's not that the place was bad but rather it just felt pointless. The majority of the students were only in Toronto for a short time and just looking for English lessons. You'd think the school would have some sort of plan in mind but it doesn't. The lesson plans include giving you a random sheet of paper and telling you to "teach this" for an hour.

It's not so much that the idea of a summer job isn't good, it's that you can't do something so similar to your chosen career to "relax" with during your vacation time. Next year, supposing I have the funds, I'd like to do a little bit of traveling and maybe some film extra work. Something that involves either fun or little thinking.

As it is, I mostly have been watching my television DVDs and in particular Lost and Battlestar Galactica.

What an odd thing to complain about... having too much spare time. I'll stop now.

Deathly Hallows (NO SPOILERS AT ALL)...

2007-07-22T13:24:00.000-04:00

Again... No spoilers. I don't discuss a thing at all in this book. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem as though many major news outlets, such as the New York Times, are able to restrain themselves in the same way.

Catherine and I pre-ordered the last Harry Potter book a couple of months ago, knowing that to do otherwise would make things difficult when it came out. Pre-ordering is a brilliant thing to do, especially if you're into video games or other properties that you know will be hot. I pre-ordered the Wii in June before the November release which makes things so much easier. You just stroll in and pick it up.

But with a product like the Wii, you don't have to worry about spoilers. I was lucky this time and escaped knowing anything at all about the last Harry Potter book, but when the New York Times publishes a spoiler-filled book review three days before the release of the book, they pissed off a ton of people, including the author.

Didn't stop Catherine and I from being paranoid, though. We dreaded every minute at the midnight release at Bay & Bloor, which had been turned into a massive circus sideshow with a 'Diagon Alley' set up in the street filled with a double decker bus, food, and plenty of rides. I have never seen that many people crowd at a bookstore. It was nothing short of insane.

We got home that night slightly after midnight, and I stayed up until 2:30am reading. The next day, Catherine and I spent trading the book off to each other every hour. Normally we don't read at such a breakneck pace, but, much like the fiasco of The Sopranos finale, you just know you're going to run into some moron who blurts out key plot points or the ending. You know the guy... he's the asshole who yells out that Darth Vader is Luke's father.

That's not going to happen here. I stayed up until about 3:30am last night and finished the book. I beat the spoilers. Now Catherine has some work to do today to reach the same landmark... unless I yell out something just to tick her off.

Now that the book is out, though, I'm left wondering what series I'm going to get this hyped over next? Will there ever again be something as rich and enjoyable as Harry Potter?

Million Dollar Babies...

2007-07-10T09:58:00.000-04:00

Anyone have a million dollars lying around?

I stumbled across this eBay auction for the complete set of Transformer toys from 1984-1986 with a ton of figs from 87 to 89 being included. For those of you who were raised on these things, you know that means there are a LOT of figures being included in this auction.

What makes the auction extra special is the fact that all of them are in their original packaging with most having never been opened at all. The collection was started by a woman and her now deceased husband and she's decided it's time to sell it off. The downside is that the price she's listed her collection at is a cool million bucks.

Now the figures in of themselves aren't worth the price, but what may make it appealing to collectors is the fact that it's complete. Heck, if I had the cash I'd probably buy this set (just so long as I had a house and early retirement wrapped up).

Still, this is a drool-worthy display that I thought many of you would like to see.

Tortle Power!

2007-07-09T17:01:00.000-04:00

Kids say the darndest things. I stumbled across this earlier today and it made me laugh. I need to laugh because otherwise the boredom will strangle me to death as I wait for a phone that refuses to ring.

Total Slack-Ass...

2007-07-07T18:14:00.000-04:00

There's no other phrase to describe my posting habits as of late. Not that many people actually read this humble blog of mine, but I'll provide all the necessary updates for my two fans (hi mom!).

1. Algonquin
What a great trip. Supremely tiring thanks the many portages along with setting up and taking down our campsite every day (not to mention the rain which followed us around most of the trip and even being so kind as to pelt us in the face when we were paddling in the middle of the lake and heading to a new campsite). Other than that, you can't beat the scenery. The loons, a couple of moose, great camp food, and time beneath the country stars. All of it was brilliant.

That said, I hurt myself. Raise your hand if you're surprised. The second day there I was getting out a canoe and I slipped on the steep shore, resulting in a very badly scraped knee. This wouldn't have been so bad if the next day I hadn't accidentally walked into a stick that jabbed right in the sore spot. Again, not so bad if on a repeat trip down the path I hadn't done the exact same thing to myself a second time.

Then the day after I slipped while carrying too packs and scrapped my knee again, this time adding a lot of mud into the mixture.

Lastly, I was carrying a canoe by myself when I tripped, scraped my knee, then dropped the canoe down on top of me. That one sucked. My leg still hurts.

Good trip, though. No sarcasm intended. Paul, Vicky, Tracey, and Catherine were excellent travelling companions. My apologies to Firecrotch (Tracey) for slamming her in the groin with a lit piece of firewood.

It would seem I had safety issues on this trip.

2. Transformers
Brian liked this movie. Is it perfect? No. Is it good summer fare? Hell yes. I knew what to expect going in and I was not disappointed. This is a big budget movie featuring toys and there was a lot to geek out about. Some of the actors could have been dispatched, but damn it if I wasn't happy as hell each and every time the big robots were on screen.

3. Job Search
Sadly, one of the days I got a phone call I was up at Algonquin and missed out. I wasn't happy about that. However, the next day I got a call for a position. I went out the next morning for the interview and by that afternoon they offered me the job.

I turned it down, however, because it wasn't what I wanted. It was a full time position, but it was for a year round alternative school that only deals with 16-18 year olds who need a few credits to graduate. It's not the kind of place I got into when I wanted to teach as I really want to be part of a school community and taking a job like this on will have a pigeon-hole effect later on.

I didn't like turning it down because I do want a job. Ultimately, this just wasn't the right position for me. That said, I found out a person from my class was offered the job after I turned it down. This amuses me as she wrote to tell me about her new position. I didn't bother telling her she was the second choice. I keep that news inside and feel all smug and whatnot.

4. Ratatouille
Catherine and I went to see this today. It's Pixar, so it's good.

To be honest, I don't know if Pixar can make a bad movie. Yes, some of their efforts are better than others, but I've liked each and every one of the flicks they've made so far. I'm also very interested in seeing next year's film, Wall-E, which is about a garbage robot 700 years in the future.

That's about it. I have nothing else here to amuse you.

Drawing a Blank...

2007-06-27T17:11:00.000-04:00

I've been holding out on posting on the blog. Not for any particular reason, but when a few days turned into a week, then two weeks, now nearly three, I guess I figured I was on some kind of roll. To be honest, I have no idea how many people actually read this thing on a regular basis. I'd kind of like the ability to track that sort of thing, but it'd either be really affirming or really depressing.

Time has been moving in a bizarre fashion since school ended. Though I'm not going to complain about having done nothing for the past month, I think I'd be a lot happier with doing nothing if I get a job. Hiring season has officially started, so a lot of my day is involved with sitting near the phone. Again, this isn't something to complain about, but Catherine and I are taking a much-needed vacation starting tomorrow. We're going away with Paul and Victoria up to Algonquin for a five-day canoe trip which means lots of fun. Oddly enough, it also means a lot of anxiety for me because it takes me away from my precious phone.

Still, life is good. My brother, Graydon, came down to visit me on Monday. This doesn't happen often and we made the best of it. He played with my Transformer figures, then we went for a walk, got some food, wandered through Kensington Market, and then met up with his wife, Tammy.

It became a full-fledged family affair as we decided to visit my Uncle Brian who then took us all out, including Catherine, for a nice dinner. Can't argue with that.

My karate dedication was going strong that day and I even went to work out after dinner. I was impressed with myself and a little shocked.

Now Catherine's cousin Steven and his girlfriend Jenna have come to visit us from Britain. They'll be hanging out in our apartment while we're gone and I'm sure they're dreaming of taking over the air conditioned bedroom. I don't blame them. The city feels like a sweat shop.

Not much else to report. The phone, when it rings, remains a focus. I distract myself every now and then (I met up with Josh for a brief walk and talk this afternoon), buying more Transformers, and watching television.

Speaking of, a really good show with a bit of twisted side to it is Dexter. It features Michael C. Hall of Six Feet Under fame as a forensic cop with an usual hobby: he's a serial killer. I have all of it if anyone wants a copy. It gets the B-dub stamp of approval.

What's next? I think we need some sort of barbecue meet up. I'm volunteering Jer for this.

I've Got a Sickness...

2007-06-11T15:16:00.000-04:00

Beyond the few that most of you already know about.

I've become addicted to the Transformers movie toys. This is not a good thing as most of them aren't cheap. However, I've done my best to limit my insanity to the autobot figures, one of which my mom bought me.

Good lord, I sound like I'm 12.

But I'm okay with that. My mom bought me Ratchet, who takes the form of a hummer/search and rescue vehicle and then earlier today I picked up Ironhide (see the attached pictures) who takes the form of a large and sturdy pickup truck. Only three more autobots left.

I just can't seem to control myself. I've become extra permissive with myself because Catherine's parents had a garage sale this weekend and so the wife and I packed up a ton of stuff and sold it off at the sale. This went well as the sale made just under $500 dollars, $200 of which Catherine and I pocketed. The bulk went to a new air conditioner (which means my old one which works but is a tad noisy is now free to a good home), but Catherine and I agreed to split the final amount ($50) and buy something fun.

I chose toys. Of course I chose toys. Hell, I sold a ton of Star Wars toys (including my pod racers) so a couple of autobots isn't THAT big of a deal.

I think I've hit the bargaining stage.

Other than that, things are going well. I'm bored a lot, which isn't the worse thing in the world to be, but hopefully soon I'll be stressed anew with the burden of a job in the fall. That would be loverly. Someone please arrange that for me.

So That's That...

2007-06-05T20:48:00.000-04:00

Weird to be done everything, now that the moment is finally here. Well, technically the moment arrived last Thursday after I wrapped up my internship at Northview and dropped off my final papers at OISE.

I'm done. Ca y est. I'm a teacher now.

That's a very odd sentence to type but as the year has gone on that has felt like less and less of an odd thing to have become. In many ways, it feels totally natural. I feel a zen-like calmness in front of the classroom and I have an ability to put my students totally at ease. It's a good feeling.

However, having all of this sudden free time forced upon me does not feel good. Don't think I'm complaining about having free time, because that isn't it. The problem is that I don't have a job yet. It's the giant vacuum of nothingness in front of me that has me a bit down this week. Many of us have faced this before when we finished school.

I'm hopeful that I'll get a job soon enough, however. Maybe I'm even more than hopeful. I feel a strange certainty that things are just going to happen for me sooner rather than later. I felt this before I even got into teacher's college and it's the same now. Maybe it's the horseshoes that Paul claims I have shoved up my ass.

Still, that means that I'm almost certainly always up for StarCraft, I will almost always say "yes, I saw that movie" and I will almost certainly be getting my drink on during school nights.

In other words, please call me as I'm getting lonely. Aaron, this means you.

Prime's Problem...

2007-05-31T08:11:00.000-04:00

Not quite as inspired as the brilliant Weng Weng, this video is still pretty funny.

And informative. Get checked today!

Aside from that, as of 1pm today, I'll be officially finished with teacher's college. The internship ended yesterday and today I just have to drop off two forms.

I'm actually quited shocked that it's all almost over. It's been a good year, albeit it quite stressful at times (thanks in no small part to my feet), but I'm extremely grateful to the people who helped get me through it. My associate, Scott Carter, is one of those people who even now is trying hard to get a job for me.

The biggest help though was Catherine, as always. I don't know what I'd do without her, I just know that it wouldn't be pretty. I'd probably be blogging in my underwear with the curtains drawn over the window... oh, wait. That's what I'm doing now.

Well, then. I'd be doing something much worse.

I'm sorry... but not really.

2007-05-22T16:32:00.000-04:00

I really should apologize for this video, but since I didn't make it, only post it, I feel comfortable in my belief that the Weng Weng Rap is truly a masterpiece of internet graffiti.

I expect Nathan to get the biggest kick out of this, but only because he's so morally corrupt. Enjoy, Nathan!

It's Coming, baby!!

2007-05-19T12:55:00.000-04:00

It's true. It's not a hoax. And it's the same style we've all come to know, love, and play obsessively until the wee hours of the morning.

I'm hoping it's just as awesome as the first, but StarCraft II has a lot to live up to to please me. Still, looking at one of the pictures that IGN has posted on their website featuring a hundred or so Zerg storming the Terran camp, I can't say that things are looking poorly at this point.

No release date yet as it was just announced today that the game was being made. At this point it looks like a suped-up version of the first, but with some significant graphical upgrades.

At least now we all have something in common to buy later this year.

Dead Days...

2007-05-16T22:29:00.000-04:00

There's a new comic up at Random Changes that contains one of my most favourite pages of comic book goodness ever. The above is just a small sampling of the brilliance of this in Marvel Zombies Vs. The Army of Darkness #2.

Highly encourage you to go read this.

Not much else is going on. The TV season is winding down, so there's not much more Lost, Heroes, or Veronica Mars left to go around. It's been a good year more or less and for the dry season of television we have the peak season of movies.

I suppose I can live with that.

My internship is slowly moving closer to completion and there's no news yet on the job front. I imagine you'll all know shortly after I know, though few of you will be sweating about the particulars.

NOW...

2007-05-12T17:47:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure why I did it, other than I'm a bit of an attention whore. Perhaps it's my deep-seeded need to be seen. At any rate, today I auditioned to be on a reality TV show.

It's called NOW (No Opportunity Wasted) and it comes from the host of The Amazing Race, Phil Koeghan. The basic premise is to take people away from their lives for 72 hours to do something they previously didn't think they had the courage to do.

What this specifically means, I have no idea. But I wrote down that I wanted to skydive and was terrified, that I really hate super enclosed spaces (like caves) and for whatever reason they sat me down to audition me.

This means absolutely nothing.

Catherine and I went to meet Phil and get a book signed at Indigo a couple of blocks away. While there, I figured "why not?" Who knows, maybe I'll get to humiliate myself on TV next fall.

The main downside is that we had to shell out $20 for the book in order of the same name in order to get the autograph (there was no requirement for the audition). Hopefully it's good, but you never know.

We chatted with Phil for a minute, talking about Guelph mostly (he lived there for four years when he was a child) and then we were on our way. I had fun, Catherine seemed slightly grumpy. ;)

Extremis...

2007-05-07T18:12:00.000-04:00

So, I went to see Spider-Man 3 and I have to say that I enjoyed the movie, though not nearly as much as the first two.

The essential problem with this film is the same problem that most sequels wind up having: we've seen it before. I enjoyed Sandman and I think Venom in particular was done quite well, but it's a lot of plot for one movie.

I still recommend the flick as it won't hurt your appreciation of what has come before (unlike The Matrix sequels), just don't expect anything that's going to wow you.

What IS impressive, however, is the design of Iron Man's armour for the upcoming film. Not only did the filmmakers get it right, they got it REALLY right. I have no complaints about this, nor do the majority of people on message boards.

Perhaps this is a sign of the apocalypse.

Catherine and I enjoyed Free Comic Book day again this year as we got quite the stash. Catherine even bought a trade paperback of her favorite character, Owly. I'll post an issue up at Random Changes one day this week for people to take a look at. It's quite cute.

My internship at Northview is going well, though I might die from boredom. I spend most of my time locked up in the English office making lesson plans for a bullying unit. No teaching, not much to do, so it's low stress, but it's also low on the relevance scale. After all that I've been through this year, I can't even begin to process the idea that I might be teaching full time in as little as four months.

In Memory of Joe Valeriote...

2007-04-30T17:42:00.000-04:00

Joe Valeriote, at the age of 65, passed away on Sunday after a long battle with cancer. Joe had been a constant fixture at Christmas for years because of the close relationship he had with Bernadette, my father's partner. Joe was a kind man and someone that I respected a great deal.

To be honest, I didn't know Joe very well. In a way, I suppose that's all right. He spent the majority of his working years as an elementary school teacher. I've heard from many people, including one of my best friends, Chris, that he was a fantastic teacher. He was loved, respected, and appreciated.

But I can almost promise you that none of those students knew him well either.

That's the gift and the curse of teaching as I've come to understand it. I'm about to become a teacher myself and have only begun to see the fleeting nature of the connection between student and teacher. It's incredibly rare to see that bond continue once summer comes, once school is out, once a student has graduated and moved on.

Yet for this fleeting connection to a man I didn't know very well, there was a lot that I liked and respected about Joe. He always had a kind word to offer and whenever we spoke he was full of encouragement and enthusiasm about what I was doing. Somehow he always knew something, some small detail, about what was going on in my life. I wasn't one of his kids, but the fact that we were all gathered together each Christmas seemed more than enough for him to put out that effort.

Maybe it's a trick of the teaching trade, that ability to make everyone feel special. All I know is that now that I'm faced with the same career, I can't think of many other people who are excellent examples of all that I want to become.

There's never enough time, is there? Never enough time to talk, to get to know someone, to appreciate what it is that each person around you brings to the ongoing mosaic that is your life.

After so many years, I can't deny that the Valeriotes have become part of my extended family and as such I feel for their grief. They're a strong bunch and I have no doubt they'll get through this and celebrate Joe's memory in their own ways for the rest of their lives. Matt, J.P., Amy, Dani, and Nick... I'm truly sorry for your loss.

Impounded...

2007-04-26T11:13:00.000-04:00

I hope everyone watched and enjoyed Drive, because it's been cancelled after only three weeks on the air. Apparently, Fox are morons. Most of us already knew this after the mess that was how they handled Firefly.

I'm not surprised, just a little annoyed that a show isn't given time to get any traction when it's brand new. So often, if something isn't immediately successful, it gets canned. I can think of several series that have done exceptionally well long-term, but were slow getting out of the gate. Sometimes showing a bit of patience will take you a long way.

I'm not writing in this blog much anymore for some reason. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I'm busy being alive. This would have been a foreign concept to me during my days at FMG, but it makes all too much sense now.

Right now I'm enjoying a well-deserved week off. I've finished OISE and teacher's college and now just have a four and a half week internship at Northview, my first practicum school, to complete before my tour of duty is done. I'm hopeful that there's an outside chance I'll get a job at this school in September, which would be great to walk into a place where you've already established yourself and fit in well, but I'm not holding my breath.

My new computer is insane. Catherine and I have been spending lots of time with our new family member and getting to know it. Mostly this just means I'm playing a lot of StarCraft, Diablo, and WarCraft. Oh, and reading comic books.

Look for the new issue of Buffy up at Random Changes as well.

Other than that, things are calm and quiet on the waterfront here. I'm back at karate which is a good thing after having to take so much time off between my feet and school. I earned my belly back, which sucks, but I'm going to have a whole summer off to ensure it doesn't come back. Ideally.

It's strange to be done school. I've been so focused and busy for the past two or three months that I was in a permanent state of anxiety and stress. I'm trying to decompress now, but even still I go looking for work. I emailed Scott, my associate teacher, to ask him if there was work I could do before I came back to school. Catherine's right, I need to learn how to relax.

Drive...

2007-04-15T23:19:00.000-04:00

It's been a while, hasn't it?

Not much to report other than being super busy with OISE nonsense. Well, that's not exactly true as I'm writing this blog post on my brand-spanking new computer that is beyond awesome. I'm going to give full details for this along with my impressions of the new Simon Pegg/Nick Frost movie, Hot Fuzz, over the next couple of days. Oh, and I'll start paying more attention to Random Changes as well.

The focus of this post is about the new Nathan Fillion (Firefly) vehicle (pun intended) called Drive. It's about an illegal cross-country road race but much grittier. Catherine and I just watched the first two episodes and I have to admit that I'm already hooked. Amy Acker (Angel) plays Fillion's wife, and though I don't really know the rest of the cast, it's pretty solid so far.

Basically people are roped into this race for some reason or another (Fillion is racing because they kidnapped his wife and will kill her unless he wins), so they have to do anything and everything in order to cross the finish line first.

I strongly encourage people to check it out. If you're worried about having missed the first two episodes, just let me know as I have them saved on my hard drive and can burn a copy. I don't have hard drive space issues anymore as I have a combined 750gigs.

Yes, that's excessive.

Good News Brigade...

2007-04-04T19:21:00.000-04:00

If good news comes in threes, then I'm really pushing things these days. I can't seem to turn around without something positive happening lately. Finally, nothing to complain about at all!

Well, okay, that's not true. We all know I could find something to complain about if I really wanted to. At any rate, I present to you a list (in no particular order) or cool things that are happening to me or in my vicinity.

1. Eligible to Hire List
I've already been telling people that I'm on this list (which you HAVE to be in order to get a job in Toronto) based on what Scott Carter, my associate teacher, told me after they called him as one of my references, but today it became official when I got a letter in the mail confirming my eligibility. I feel like king of the castle.

2. New Computer
My dad is one of the greatest people I have ever known. In a gesture that wasn't needed as he already holds this title, he told me that as a graduation present he wants to get me a new computer. This is VERY welcome news as the one I'm currently using is slowly getting senile.

3. Hot Fuzz
From the stars and director of Shaun of the Dead, this buddy cop Brit comedy is finally coming to Canada. As an added bonus, I made Catherine enter a contest (which I also entered) to win two free passes to see the flick next Thursday. As an added bonus, both Shaun & Ed (along with the director) are going to be at an exclusive party afterwards. Catherine won the tickets through the Toronto Star. She's pleased, but a bit dismayed as next Thursday also happens to be her birthday.

4. Aaron's New Job
Aaron Jacklin is my hero. He's managed to not only get one, but TWO new jobs at small town papers. The papers are owned by the same company and Aaron will split his time between the two. This is excellent news and I'm sure he'll do really well.

Is there more good news? I'm sure there is. I'm just hoping that the good news continues.

Ninja Golf!

2007-03-29T19:33:00.000-04:00

Ninja rap!

Anyone else miss the days when Vanilla Ice used to team up with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? No? Me neither.

This lovely box art is from an actual game for the Atari. IGN posted a fantastic Top 25 breakdown of the worst video game box art ever. There are some gems on there and I'm not ashamed to say I owned more than a couple.

Over at Random Changes the zombie series is in full swing. Marvel Zombies #1 will be posted tonight.

In other news, my associate teacher from my first practicum called me to say that he got a call from the TDSB as they were checking my references. He gave a glowing report to the woman he was talking to, someone that he knows and has met before, and Scott says that every indication was given that I now have a spot on the coveted list.

I'm closer to a job than ever before.

This calls for a celebration of sorts. I'll be at my Dad's this weekend, but maybe I'll give Jer and call on Sunday when I get home to see if he wants to go out for a beer or something.

Frak Me...

2007-03-25T22:59:00.000-04:00

I'm still totally, completely, unbelievably FLOORED over the last 10 minutes of the season finale of Battlestar Galactica. If the season 2 ending raised a few eyebrows and got a couple of curses because of the months of waiting we were about to endure, it is NOTHING compared to the mind f*** that this episode just was.

I'm STILL reeling from it.

How can this show possibly get any better?!? It's impossible! There's no way to top it! A few of the episodes this season were a little slow, but this is UNREAL. For those of you who understand this point of reference, this is going to be HARDER to wait for than the Picard as a Borg cliffhanger.

Thank god it's already been picked up for a full 22 episodes next season.

AAAGGHHH!!! I can't wait a whole frakking 6 or 7 months for more!

Battlestar Galactica, what have you done to me?

Best. show. ever.

From The Office:

Dwight: "Are you watching Battlestar Galactica?"
Man: "...no."
Dwight: "Then you're an idiot."

The Confession...

2007-03-24T23:47:00.000-04:00

My own confession is that it took me far longer than I expected to post all of the Civil War issues on Random Changes. However, at this point it's all done and while I may post some of the 'Fallen Son' storyline down the road, that marks the end of that series.

Tomorrow I'll post the first issue of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 8, and then after that I'll move into a horror-theme with Ultimate Fantastic Four and Marvel Zombies. All told, I've got about 10 issues of that kind of stuff coming your way.

Otherwise, things are good. The practicum is nearly over and not only am I surviving but almost unexpectedly I seem to be thriving. It gets easier and easier. With as much modesty as I'm able to project, this seems to be a job that I'm damn good at. I just hope it stays that way.

My interview for the TDSB was earlier this week and I did well. I didn't mention adult aids of any kind so right away I put that in a win column. The only odd behaviour I showed was that I arrived nearly 2 hours early for my interview. I didn't want to be late, but I didn't want to show up THAT early. The receptionist woman was really nice about it and fawned over me the rest of the evening. I felt special.

So one week of that school left, then three weeks of university until it's done. I have a month-long internship to complete at that point, but all evaluations and proper schooling will be done.

I'm only slightly terrified of what happens after that. But I'm content as I know I've done the best I could. For the first time in years, I feel as though I'm truly coming into my own and becoming the sort of man I always hoped I'd be.

Like I said... I'm feeling modest today.

PS. I think Aaron's dead. I haven't heard from him in ages. Since nearly Christmas, it seems.

The Dead Are Rising Again...

2007-03-16T11:33:00.000-04:00

Excuse my cynical nature.

I love comics. YOU know I love comics. My closet knows that I love comics. Yet for all of this interest, I no longer tend to purchase any. I still read the news because I like to stay abrest of what's going on, but I'm not longer chained to the vicious cycle of consumer whoring.

Take the recent events in Captain America. It's a great story (and will be posted today or tomorrow on Random Changes) and it packs an emotional punch. Despite this, it feels like a hollow event.

For everyone who remembers the death of Superman back in the day, this was a shocking thing to have done. Who has the nerve to kill of a comic book icon? Now we bring ourselves up to speed by about 10 years and this kind of stunt no longer has any weight.

Still like Captain America? Good, because the series isn't ending. Want to read about him right now? Buy The Ultimates. What's that? There's a movie coming out in a year or two? Hmm. What are they going to do?

Oh, he'll be back soon enough.

Everyone knows it as well. It just doesn't mean much.

On the flip side, good story telling is good story telling. So it's worth a read. To honour Cap's actions, immediately after his 'death' I'll begin posting issues of Marvel Zombies, starting with their debut in Ultimate Fantastic Four. If you're sick and twisted (and I know you are), then you'll enjoy this series.

As for me, I'm enjoying March break but I'm doing far too much lesson planning. This is good and bad. It's good because I don't have to do any work when I come home at night, but it's bad because I haven't played as much Nintendo or watched as many movies as I had hoped. That said, I did see Snakes on a Plane and enjoyed it more than I expected. 300 is worth a look as well, but Jer has a better breakdown than I do here.

Now go read comics.

Powerful Thirst Relief...

2007-03-07T20:48:00.000-05:00

Just so you know, I haven't abandoned Random Changes at all. Two new entries went up today in the ongoing Civil War saga that should be complete within the week.

As an added bonus, I'm going to let YOU decide what the next segment will be. I have an 8-issue Marvel Zombies series that is fantastic. How often do you get to see Spider-Man guilt-ridden over eating his own wife? I also have new issues of Astonishing X-Men, The Ultimates, The Dark Tower, and The Exiles that I can put up.

Comic books are fun.

Practicum is not. I only have two days left until March break which I am extremely thankful for. The whole practice teaching thing is going well, I suppose, I just don't like the process. I just finished making my first rubrics (a criteria-based sheet that lets students see how and what is being marked during their assignments/projects) and I didn't enjoy that much at all. Don't get me wrong, the things are extremely useful, but they aren't easy to make at this point.

I finally went to see Ghost Rider. It was NOT worth the wait. The effects were okay, but the acting was horrible. I never want to see Nicolas Cage utter the line "I'm going to be the Spirit of Vengenance" in a cheesy southern drawl ever again. At least not until I waste money on the DVD.

Borat came out, though. Lewd and crude, I'm going to rent it this weekend so Catherine can watch it. This is a movie that is so often wrong that it's just so good.

That's it. Go read comics. I'm off to watch LOST.

Validation...

2007-02-28T17:30:00.000-05:00

My feet hurt, my back is sore, I'm super-tired, and I'm in an amazing mood.

Knocked my lesson out of the park today, helped out at the school, and generally made myself into a good teacher today.

On top of that, I got home and there's a message from the Toronto District School Board and they want to set up an interview for me.

F***IN' AWESOME.

This is an extremely competitive board. More than 4000 applications are received and they interview around 900 for their eligible to hire list. 98% of the people who are interviewed make it onto the list and then they can be selected by individual high schools in the GTA for jobs at their schools. You MUST be on the list to get a job in Toronto.

This makes the slurpee I got on the way home all that much sweeter.

I called Scott, my associate teacher from Northview, who was just as excited and told me that he expected it to happen. He also mentioned that it looks like it's going to be a hiring year at Northview and that he's trying to pave the way for me to get a job there.

Now I can finally rest. I'm going to sleep well tonight!

Brain Freeze...

2007-02-26T21:17:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I forget that I have this blog. Other days I remember and can't be bothered to post. I must apologize, however, to the constant readers of Random Changes. I have begun to alter my erring ways by posting Civil War #4 for you all to enjoy.

I just started my second practicum. I'm not a huge fan of my associate teacher at this point as she is stingy on compliments and heavy on silence. All in all, it makes for an uncomfortable transition into a totally foreign place.

In the future, I'd like Nicole to be my associate teacher. She needs to get a job here in Toronto for a month so that I can work with her. We don't even have the same teachable subjects, but I'm sure she can adapt. After all, she lives successfully with Jamie.

In other news, I got nothing.

Not much is going on. I'm enjoying The Dark Tower comic book series, the last issue of Civil War (#7) came out (though you guys are a little while off from me posting that), and I've bought an action figure or two. Well, one really. Though my new Ultimate Iron Man is nice and shiny.

I still haven't seen Ghost Rider. Jer owes me a movie date. Maybe if he can find time, we can go this weekend.

I bought a Nintendo DS with Christmas money and then sold a few old games so that I could get some DS stuff. It's a much more addictive system than I would have thought and lately I'm spending more time with it than I am with the Wii. Though Catherine is getting Mario Party 8 in about a week, so I'm sure that'll change. I still need more controllers, though, as two really isn't enough for a good old Nintendo bash.

That's about it. I've got my lessons planned (for now) and a huge stress headache. I need more sleep than I'm getting.

Oh, and for anyone who cares, my feet are almost back to 100%. Still a little off here and there, but it's just stuff that needs more time to repair. God, you don't know how bad it was.

Aaron, I wrote you back, but then you didn't write me back. Is this revenge for my delinquence in the first place? Where's the love?

If I don't post again in the near future, it means I'm dead. The practicum will be chiefly to blame.

The Second Coming...

2007-02-19T16:04:00.000-05:00

I just finished my first day of teaching at Riverdale. Not a bad school per se, but it just doesn't feel as good as Northview.

As for my AT, I can't tell you anything about her. She didn't show up. I got paired with a supply teacher who wasn't interested in teaching, so I taught my first full day today. I managed to memorize most of the students names. The librarians seemed to be impressed with me, so hopefully word gets back somehow.

My AT has six different courses that she teaches, alternating three each day. Two grade 9 applied, a grade 9 LD (lower than applied, which is in turn lower than academic), a grade 11 and a grade 12. I have no idea how much of these I'm going to teach.

This school is very strict and the English department doesn't seem overly friendly just yet. I can't wait to get back to Northview. I can honestly say that Northview is the kind of school I want to teach at with the kinds of kinds I want to teach.

All in all, this could have been a very stressful day, but for some reason it wasn't. I just went with the flow. Not once did I feel out of place at all. I had little to no anxiety before I went there (I even had a perfectly relaxed sleep last night) and still don't feel any. I wonder why that is? Perhaps because I've gotten the worst part of it out of my system and the school board should start calling people this week for interviews.

Hopefully.

Riverdale should be good, though. The kids are great (some of them are clones of kids at Northview) and I'm looking forward to the challenge. Then again, I also don't want to do another practicum. Just give me my certificate.

The Lobby...

2007-02-11T21:06:00.000-05:00

Today something horrible happened.

I went to karate to help out at a tournament for the little kids. It helps out the club even though I was brutally sore from the class the night before (my first in months because of my feet). But hey, I got a free lunch out of it.

A free lunch and an afternoon of frustration.

You see, I had left the source of my domestic bliss without my keys or wallet. Neither of these choices was intentional, but Catherine ushered me out the door and I didn't think about it at all. She mentioned casually about going to the gym, but that's about it.

I returned home three hours later only to discover she wasn't home. I couldn't even get in the building.

I had to wait in the vestibule for about 15 minutes until someone happened to be leaving. I went inside and tried to get the super to let me into the apartment but he was nowhere to be found.

I sat in a chair. It was 1pm.

Around 1:05 I was feeling quite agitated. I had bought some timbits for Catherine and I and I felt silly sitting in a chair in the lobby, with my karate uniform on concealed by my jacket, and just staring at the wall.

At 1:10 I knew I was in trouble because I really had to go to the bathroom. And it wasn't the #1 kind either.

.....

Time passes really slowly in an apartment building lobby.

At 1:45 I was frustrated because I didn't have my wallet with me which meant I couldn't go anywhere. I flirted with the idea of going to a movie until the bitter reality set in.

At 2:10 I decided to go to the dojo where I could at least go to the bathroom. Then it occurred to me that I was going to let myself in the dojo with my keys which were still hung up inside the apartment.

At 2:30 I headed out for Tim Horton's to use the bathroom and to call Catherine from a payphone. I barely made it to Tim's and felt silly asking for the bathroom key. To make myself feel better, I promised myself I would buy something when I was done. But the cashier wasn't there when I returned the key, so I left and saved the dollar I had on me for another time.

At 2:40 I tried calling Catherine. No answer. What's the point of having a phone if you don't answer it?!?

At 2:45 I resumed my post in the lobby. I tried the super again to no avail.

2:50. This is REALLY boring.

Between 2:50 and 3:45 I fight off falling asleep and jerk awake every time someone comes in or out. Each time I hope it's Catherine, but gradually hope is fading away. My body gets more and more stiff from the exercise I did the day before.

At 4:15, Catherine finally comes back. She looks surprised to see me. A little pleased as well, almost as though I have some sort of surprise to give her.

No surprise. Just bitterness.

She apologizes profusely and I let her off the hook so long as she promises to go out and buy me a present. She feels badly, which makes me happy, but doesn't change the fact that I spent nearly three and a half hours in the lobby of my building.

She bought me some cream eggs and bubble bath. I feel like such a girl.

The worst part of it is that it's all my fault.

Neon Bible...

2007-02-07T20:07:00.000-05:00

I am a huge fan of Arcade Fire. The Montreal-based band is a critical success in Canada and a surprisingly big hit in the UK. One of their singles from their first album, Funeral, was used as the warm-up song before U2 took the stage during their last tour.

They have a raw power that I find incredibly appealing. For some reason, though I haven't discussed it with him, I think this band would also speak to Aaron quite well.

Their follow-up album, Neon Bible, isn't slated for release for at least another month but given the state of the technophiles these days, it should come as no surprise that it's already available for download via certain sites.

As I plan to buy this album when it comes out regardless, I downloaded a copy of it today.

It's amazing. I'm two songs in and already hopelessly hooked on it. The intro song, 'Black Mirror,' is part epic action movie song, part nursery rhyme, and part ballad. It's fantastic. The second song, 'Keep the Car Running', is a great Western-style song with an 80s twist.

Get this album when it comes out or else get a taste of it online.

In other news, Random Changes is still plugging along with regular updates. I'm going to start deleting posts off of that site soon so make sure you're caught up if you're reading it.

Also, I plan to buy a DS Lite tomorrow. I have some Christmas money that I've just recently gotten (I know Christmas was a month and a half ago, but sometimes that's just the way things happen) so I'm going to get this item. Do I need to get it? No. That's part of the fun in buying it.

Satin Tights No Longer...

2007-02-02T20:23:00.000-05:00

Joss Whedon, my lord and master, posted this over at Whedonesque a short time ago: he's no longer doing the Wonder Woman movie.

For those of you who weren't aware that was the Buffy/Angel guy's next major project, this is doubly-news.

I'm actually pleased about this. It means that Joss can focus on things that he has created himself and hopefully he'll return to television sooner than later. I need his kind of TV because everything seems so dark and dreary these days (except maybe Veronica Mars, and even that's dipping a toe in ink).

Joss' post is quoted below, along with brief details of another project of his:

"You (hopefully) heard it here first: I'm no longer slated to make Wonder Woman. What? But how? My chest... so tight! Okay, stay calm and I'll explain as best I can. It's pretty complicated, so bear with me. I had a take on the film that, well, nobody liked. Hey, not that complicated.

Let me stress first that everybody at the studio and Silver Pictures were cool and professional. We just saw different movies, and at the price range this kind of movie hangs in, that's never gonna work. Non-sympatico. It happens all the time. I don't think any of us expected it to this time, but it did. Everybody knows how long I was taking, what a struggle that script was, and though I felt good about what I was coming up with, it was never gonna be a simple slam-dunk. I like to think it rolled around the rim a little bit, but others may have differing views.

The worst thing that can happen in this scenario is that the studio just keeps hammering out changes and the writer falls into a horrible limbo of development. These guys had the clarity and grace to skip that part. So I'm a free man.

Well, sorta. There is that Goners movie I can finally finish polishing, and plenty of other things in the hopper I've wanted to pursue. I'm as relieved as I am disappointed, and both of those things lead to drink, so that's a plus. Truly, you may be hearing some interesting things brewing in the coming months. But all potential jets therein will be visible.

But most importantly, I never have to answer THAT question again!!!! And you don't have to link to every rumor site! Finally and forever: I never had an actress picked out, or even a consistant front-runner. I didn't have time to waste on casting when I was so busy air-balling on the script. (No! Rim! There was rim!) That's the greatest relief of all. I can do interviews again!

Thanks for your time. You are the people who make the world go 'round. Or, no, science does that.

-j."

Just Don't Do It...

2007-02-01T19:23:00.000-05:00

Don't go to the doctor. This is a pursuit wasted on those who don't have much chance of surviving anyway.

I went today after three failed visits to have something as simple as an in-grown toenail taken care of. One doctor even tried to get me to drop $350 on the procedure. I told my regular doctor today whose response was "you're shitting me."

I like my doctor.

At any rate, I went today to get the toenail taken care of. I got in to see the doctor immediately, an incredibly aged Asian man who scuffled around the office. I thought he was a patient at first. He asked if I could wait half an hour and he'd cut it out for me.

"Sure," I said.

So, I wait and then get brought in. I tell the nurse that my toe doesn't actually hurt anymore. She doesn't seem to care. The doctor comes in and as I'm lying on my back and he's swabbing my toe with iodine and preparing the biggest damn needle I've ever seen, I repeat that my toe doesn't hurt anymore and isn't oozing or anything.

He stops, looks closely, and says "really?"

"Really," I said.

"Oh, okay. Then we won't do anything. It seems to have healed on its own. If it hurts or oozes again come back and we'll fix it." Then he proceeds to wash the iodine off my toe.

The moral of the story is: let incomptent doctors try to schedule you in for a simple 20 minute procedure for more than two months while avoiding stupid sized fees as your toe goes about the business of fixing itself.

And people wonder why I can be cynical.

Up now at Random Changes:
New Avengers #22
Civil War #3
Civil War Frontline #3

Helpless...

2007-01-29T16:26:00.000-05:00

I find myself totally powerless when it comes to dealing with the Wii's online virtual console. The ability to download the games of yesteryear is proving too much like gaming crack to resist.

I'd previously picked up classics like Street Fighter II for the Super Nintendo along with Super Mario Bros. for the original Nintendo. Then the avalanche started. Last week it was Super Castlevania IV and now I've added Contra III: The Alien Wars and Mario Kart 64 to my growing list.

I just can't stop myself.

I think Catherine is infected with the bug as well. Though she could care less about Contra, she actually used the word 'exciting' when I told her I downloaded Mario Kart 64. I think she's becoming a Wii-zombie.

Add to the fact that a fun weekend at Paul and Vicky's new house (which is quite cool and the 70s basement is a must-keep) included a ton of Wii playing along with board games and it seems I just can't escape this thing.

That, and television. 24 is on tonight. Anyone else want to see Jack Bauer's murder another man with his mouth? That was some wild stuff.

I'm going to go play Contra. Then clean the apartment before Catherine gets home. But first, I must play. MUST.

PS. Up for consumption at Random Changes is Civil War Frontline #3. Look for a new part of Civil War to show up every day.

Here's the full checklist for what is available:
Civil War #1
Civil War #2
Civil War Frontline #1
New Avengers #21
Amazing Spider-Man #533
Civil War Frontline #2
NEW: Civil War Frontline #3

Stop!!

2007-01-25T17:21:00.000-05:00

On my way home from school just now, a girl on the street stopped myself and a classmate and thrusted Oh Henry bars into our hands.

"STOP!" she yelled. "You guys are having a HERSHEY moment!"

Insert Jamie-style joke here.

PS. Civil War #1 and #2, Civil War: Frontline #1, New Avengers #21, are now up at Random Changes with a new issue to be posted every day.

Skirting the Boundaries of Legality...

2007-01-24T18:37:00.000-05:00

I've often made a habit out of providing reading for my friends. Usually I lend paper versions, but I figured I might as well make things easier all around.

I have a beta-test blog that I use to track how potential changes to this template will look that I'm now using as a private storage bin for the likes of you. If you head over there, it essentially has the same look but now serves a singular purpose: comic books.

I don't talk about them in any way, simply provide you, my gentle readers, with ways to read them. I've started with Astonishing X-Men #16, with future issues to follow at a regular pace.

Click on the link or else check for 'Random Changes' in the sidebar.

As It Happens...

2007-01-22T12:20:00.000-05:00

I went to see another doctor (a follow-up visit) who for once made a good sound when she saw my feet. I can't tell you how frustrating it is to feel good about your progress but not have anyone else realize that the disaster on your feet is, in fact, looking less disastrous.

Anyway, I told her about the rip-off artist that was the ingrown toenail guy. Her eyebrows shot up in total surprise. She then said I should see the surgeon at the clinic who would do it for $25, all of which is covered by OHIP.

And people wonder why I hate doctors and fear hospitals so much.

This whole experience has taught me a lot. For years I would avoid doctors because of the awful experiences I had as a kid. As an adult, I tried to convince myself that these fears were groundless and that I should just grow and pair and go see one.

The truth is, no doctor that I, or any member of my family, including Truffle, have seen in the past few years has actually done much of anything. I think that the internet is much more useful.

Seriously, 12 doctor visits and to this day none of them know for sure what was going on with my feet? That seems horribly out of whack, especially considering some of them were specialists. Maybe if we paid out more money to our doctors we'd keep the good ones in Canada and live healthier lives on the whole. I never thought I'd envy the States and their private healthcare model.

Other than that, things are peachy. I'm going back to Northview (my first practice teaching school) in April for my internship. Not big news, but I had to sort out all the details myself which now means I can relax a little.

A little. Not a lot.

Doctors are Evil Bastards...

2007-01-10T20:35:00.000-05:00

I don't know what to do anymore. I have totally and completely given up.

I went to see the foot doctor today about my ingrown toenail. This was supposed to be the day I had it fixed. I was told it would cost me $35.

My doctor left the room twice as he was trying to sell his house and kept getting phone calls. He comes back and tells me that he thinks it would be easy for my foot infection to come back and that I should have taken a month of pills instead of two weeks.

"Two weeks won't kill it off," he said.

Comforting. Also contradictory. Other doctors have said that was more than enough to kill it. Will the real expert please stand up? Then doctor #11 here tells me what he wants to do to my toe. It doesn't sound pleasant, but it will fix it. Then he says that he wouldn't do it today but he would do it at his own clinic. He said it would take an hour and cost $350 dollars. I told him that I was told it would be $35.

"I don't do anything for $35," he said. "$40 is the cost of this consultation."

What's wrong with my foot? He thinks eczema is likely as well but possibly fungal. What did he do? Gave me a cream.

As for my toe, he told me I could go to emergency and they'd remove the problem part of my toenail but that it might grow back and repeat the problem. He said that was the 'cheap fix'.

To make matters worse, I have two small blisters forming, one on each foot. Nothing big yet, but worrying. I have a dermatologist appointment next week and she wanted to do a scraping, so I won't take the old pills again. If I choose to do that, I have to take a month's worth. I went to see the people at Toronto General and they thought eczema as well and one doctor talked as though I wasn't there to two of his colleagues explaining how the lamisil pills may have functioned as a placebo. I wanted to punch him.

This is why I hate doctors. Months and more than a dozen visits and doctors and nothing has happened concretely. It's a cruel damn joke.

The 28 Known Galaxies...

2007-01-05T21:10:00.000-05:00

It figures.

I just spent 15 minutes writing up an interesting blog entry and my computer crashes for the first time in ages. I even had a feeling that it was going to do this and still I delayed in hitting the 'publish' button on my blog.

Oh well, it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't update more often. I make the daily journey from my beg to this desk to meander about and check out the silly sites I like to visit and yet there doesn't seem to be enough time left over to write on this blog.

I'm in the throes and woes of vacation time. Catherine says that I should just relax and enjoy the spare time when I have it, but I'm all too often consumed by the horizon and needing to get everything on my plate taken care of. I'm starting to realize that this may be an impossible goal.
One oddity of my surfing habits is that every day I always click on the link for my blog. I don't know why I do this because I know I haven't posted. Maybe I'm looking to see if someone has made a comment on an entry that's three weeks old. Sometimes I use it as a launching pad to check out what Jer and Josh are doing because I'm too stupidly lazy to call them and find out for myself. This is something I must rectifiy because they are too cool and I think they need my guidance. Especially Jer.

Christmas went well, overall. We left with a lot of gifts to take home and brought back even more. I don't think people understand that we live in a shoebox. Somehow we make it all work, but soon I think I'm going to have move Catherine and some of her things out onto the balcony.

Catherine got a new Wii game (Rayman Raving Rabbids) which is the most disgusting thing I've seen in a while. You have to trap bunnies in outhouses, fling cows, and generally abuse these stupid looking creatures. It's actually quite entertaining and Catherine loves it. She gets annoyed if I play it at all without her around because it's "her game."

We also got several DVDs between us. I got season 1 of The Office (US version) and Catherine got all three seasons of Arrested Development. We also saw a lot of movies. Casiono Royale, Night at the Museum, Little Miss Sunshine, even Flushed Away. It's been busy.

The new trailer for the Transformers movie looks pretty good and I'm encouraged to want to see it. I would have seen it anyway, but at least it's looking pretty nifty. Check out the trailer online if you haven't already. I'll wait for your opinions while I play with the Starscream figure Catherine got me for Christmas.

We got a new printer (so I no longer have to wait 10 minutes to print a single grainy page). This printer is unreal. It also scans, faxes, copies, and makes french fries. Really. Crinkle cut.

We had a good New Year's Eve. We went to see Blue Rodeo in Hamilton and enjoyed watching the drunk people around us.

Best of all, my foot appears to be healing. The crippling (and no, I'm not exaggerating) condition that my foot was in seems to have halted itself and my foot is actually repairing the massive damage it suffered. For a while I could barely walk and to date I've been to see more than 10 doctors. It's been stressful.

Other stressors include school. I know I'm on vacation and Catherine says I need to relax and enjoy it while I can, but I'm cursed with forever looking to the horizon for my next problem. I need to apply to get my license, then I need to apply to school boards, get my resume together and all sorts of other nonsense I feel not at all prepared to deal with.

But it's a new year and it's going to be full of interesting events. I hope to spend more time with Jer, Josh, Jamie, Nicole, Nate, Aaron, Chris and several others while working towards getting that first teaching job. Life could be much different by this time one year from now and I'm looking forward to seeing how it all plays out.

In the meantime, I think I'll get my drink on. Where's Jer, anyway? It's Friday night at 9:21pm and I'm blogging while Catherine is out with her friend, so where is mine? I'll pretend I called Jer and then yell at him tomorrow for not returning said ficticious call. I expect the ruse will work beyond my expectations.

Window in the Skies...

2006-12-17T12:39:00.000-05:00

It took me awhile, but I finally saw the video for the new U2 song, Window in the Skies. It's actually a pretty amazing video and to save you the trouble of looking for it (as I know you were all eager to do), I've linked to the youtube video below.

My feet are actually starting to heal. I can't believe it. It's been so long that I almost forgot what normal feet look like. They still look awful at this point, but I can walk on them again after nearly two weeks of having to hobble and shuffle. The pills I'm taking are doing a number on my stomach, but at least I'm getting better.

Nicole sent along pictures of little Izzy just a short time ago. I can't get over how much she looks like Jamie. She's getting bigger and her hands look eager to roll dice and pick up video game controllers. Like my own future children, this kid is going to be spoiled.

Aaron's blog is lacking all sorts of personal details these days (I haven't linked to his crime blog yet, I don't believe), so I'll fill in the blanks. He's doing well at The Ontarion and has finished up for the holidays. That's he's not only surviving his tenure as EIC but thriving should come as no surprise. He is king of editing.

Jer is the court jester. Jer gets the endurance award, however, for that conference of his.

Chris is doing fine. He just won a million dollars. Actually, I don't know what Chris is doing at all. I've been a bad friend. But seeing as how he's got a new house and a new family I'm sure he's plenty busy. I got him a Christmas present back in October but it now occurs to me that he's probably too busy to pay his annual visit to my Dad's house on Boxing Day.

I've got most of my shopping done at this point. A few odds and ends and then I'm set. At least in theory. There's going to be something more that I buy at least.

Something for myself, perhaps. I bought Thor-buster Iron Man, the latest Iron Man figure from the Marvel Legends series. I'm trying to stop, but these things are like plastic crack and I know, despite asking for them, that I won't get any for Christmas.

I've been missing my friends, though. I haven't seen Paul in too long, Jer's visits are to pick up gaming hardware, and I rarely see Josh. So many others are lost in limbo... Nate, Pushee, Chris. Oh well. I've got the Wii to comfort me until I try to actually make plans. Nate and Pushee will likely enter the scene again come baseball season. Though I'm scared to death to try to go to a game with Nathan. I've never been arrested before and this is likely to happen when you go out with Nate.

I'm bored right now. Anyone up for StarCraft?

Here's the U2 video:

The Agony of De-feet...

2006-12-10T12:55:00.000-05:00

My feet are eating themselves. Especially the left foot which is ravenous.

I'm assuming I picked up some kind of infection when I was in China. Within a week of my return, I developed blisters on one of my feet. I chalked it up to switching shoes when I got home, but these were angry, angry blisters that left my feet swollen.

It kept getting worse. Over the course of FOUR doctor visits, the last being just yesterday, my foot condition spread from a few blisters to the near inability to walk. My left foot has lost so much skin on the bottom that there are raw red patches. It's not pleasant. When wet, it smells rotten.

The good news about all this is that the last doctor finally gave me an oral antibiotic. He described it as potent and the pharmacist echoed this sentiment. That's good, because it's slowly spreading to my hands.

If I die, Catherine gets the Wii. That's just the way it is.

But seriously, four months and four doctor visits and only NOW are they taking it seriously? What is wrong with our medical system? I arranged a dermatologist appointment and was told I'd have to wait a MONTH. This is actually impressive because my doctor said the wait could be months.

I'm all for public healthcare and I think it's a great system. It's times like this, however, when a private model could be brought in sparingly to help address immediate concerns such as this. If you saw my foot, you would see that there is a serious problem that needs to be addressed immediately, not months from now. As much as I appreciate seeing the doctor for free, I'd find it much more valuable to pay a couple of bucks and be treated now.

As it is, I can barely walk. I have bandages and creams to look forward to in my stocking this year (assuming I've been a good boy).

Most of my Christmas shopping is done. There are a few odds and ends, but what would Christmas be if you weren't trying to get something at the last minute?

Is This Thing On?

2006-12-06T22:06:00.000-05:00

I suppose it's the price you pay for having a life. This blog was a constant source of amusement during my time at FMG and one might say that it kept me from going insane. Since then, I've been busy enjoying myself. Hence the lack of posts.

My time at FMG ended months ago and since then I've actually been enjoying myself more and more. In case you missed the subtle hints, I hated my job. The only two things I miss about it are hanging out with Nathan and the paycheck.

The past few weeks have largely been uneventful. After my practicum, I needed to decompress. Having the Wii helps in that area tremendously. It's an incredibly fun system that Catherine and I both play on a daily basis. I'm especially pleased that Catherine is using it so much, though she does tend to get carried away.

Earlier tonight we were playing Wii Sports. During one bout of the home run challenge in baseball, Catherine thought it'd be a good idea to let go of the remote. Well, the wrist strap broke, the remote went sailing through a glass candle holder (with a light candle inside) that resulted in wax being sprayed on the wall, the battery cover on the remote flying off, and the controller looking like it might be broken.

As luck would have it, Nintendo made these controllers to laugh. This particular controller has hit several people due to wild swings. Once I hit my mother so hard in the arm that I'm sure I left a massive bruise.

But that's the price you pay to play.

And it's good. For my 29th birthday (man, am I old) my father bought me Red Steel. Not much to look at at first, but the game picks up quickly.

Other than that, I'm back in school. What was make work-type of assignments before is now painfully make-work and I'm starting to get annoyed. Why do you need three people to make a 10 slide Powerpoint presentation using only pictures you can find on Google?

The world has gone mad.

Wii came home...

2006-11-19T15:04:00.000-05:00

...and it was good. It was RIGHT.

Catherine, Patti, and Catherine's family are all hooked on Wii Sports. Eventually I'll get to play Zelda and Marvel: Ultimate Alliance.

Fun is about to be had. Jer, Josh, you guys need to come over soon. Though I only have one extra controller...

This thing is cool beyond words.

I survived my first practicum...

2006-11-17T22:44:00.000-05:00

...And all I got was this lousy blog post.

Actually, that's not really true. Catherine and I went out to celebrate with a lovely meal.

It's strange to be finished. In many ways, I really didn't want to go. The students were great and they thought I was great, too. The staff were amazing and by the end of it all, I had a class.

It's like building up momentum, hitting your stride, then hitting a brick wall.

At least I'll have the Wii to comfort me on Sunday. Before then, however, plans abound. There's no rest for the wicked. Maybe next week I'll get a moment or two to rest before I turn the dreaded 29 years old.

Soon I'll hit 30. That just can't be good.

Jer, finish up your trade show so you can come over, play games with mii, and then take home your lovely new Gamecube.

God, I need sleep.

The World Has Moved On...

2006-11-13T22:34:00.000-05:00

"Go then, there are other worlds than these."

Good lord it's been a long time since I last posted. No real reason for the lack of updates, just that I've been preoccupied with school. It's a one month "internship" that has me teaching grade 9 english and grade 11 sociology full time.

The first week was brutal, but manageable. The second week I suddenly emerged into the light and all was well in the world.

According to my AT, I'm doing unbelievably well. He's already done my evaluation and it states that I should be hired now and that I'm "the best teacher candidate he's ever seen."

I'm still stunned.

It's not that I doubt my ability to teach, but getting high praise from someone who is well respected in the educational community makes it seem surreal. I have miles to go and years to cover before I'm anywhere near his league, Nicole's league, or the many great teachers I've had in the past.

What I will take from this is that it's a sign that I've made the right choice. Hopefully ;).

Otherwise, things are looking just fine. The Wii comes out in less than a week and I'm going to try to rope in Jer to have some launchday fun and games as afterwards he'll take home his spanking new Gamecube (seeing as I'll no longer have use for mine).

Then next week I turn 29. I'm getting old. Not Nathan old, mind you, or even Jer old, but old.

You know how I know? I always feel ready for a nap.

What is it...?

2006-10-31T21:19:00.000-05:00

Iza-pumpkin!

Happy Halloween!

Sorry for the incredibly lame joke. It just seemed like the right time to make one. Time for a quick post to let you guys know how things are going.

I'm tired. Damn tired. I mean, I KNEW how much work being a teacher was, but actually doing it, even on this strange practicum, it's REALLY hard work. Totally mind blowing. I have a totally new level of respect for Nicole and Lindsey. Less respect for Jeromy, but that's just because I have to balance out those cosmic scales.

I'm teaching Grade 9 Applied English and Grade 11 Sociology. So far so good as my associate teacher thinks I'm ready to teach now, but that still hasn't stopped me from spazzing and stressing out. Catherine says I put too much pressure on myself and she's probably right.

I just need more sleep. Week 1 is done, Week 2 (now) is going to be easy, then I've just got two weeks more to go. To reward myself at the end of this whole thing, I'm going to get a Wii.

Though I'll be too tired to play it.

Attack of the Killer Squirrel...

2006-10-23T18:46:00.000-04:00

If there were an easier way to do things, most likely I'd still pick the hard way. It's just in my nature. It's also just my luck. On the bright side, when strange things happen to me it's almost always amusing to others.

Friday night was no exception. My unanswered call to Jeromy to spend some quality time together left me with nothing to do. Catherine had gone home to Brantford and I was procrastinating on doing my first lesson plan.

Instead, I wound up watching Deadwood, playing Megaman X4, and hanging out with Truffle.

Then I heard a very strange sound. I muted the television to listen for it and within seconds a "whoop" sound, very similar to an 80's-style video game lazer, came from my radiator.

Truffle freaked out and hid in a tube. I, on the other, got closer.

"Whoop!" Again, I had no idea what this sound was. I could hear a scratching, so I figured it was an animal of some sort. I called my dad who promptly suggested "racoon or squirrel." It was an emotional conversation.

I had two problems with this. One, after the mouse that invaded our apartment a year or two ago I swore never to put up with an uninvited guest again. That mouse was LOUD and it was tiny. I'm fairly certain that both squirrels and racoons are smaller.

The heating vent it was currently in was secure against the floor and wall. The problem was that the vent goes through the living room wall into the bedroom and the small pipe that connects them has an opening four times too big for it. The heater in the bedroom is secure against the wall, but NOT against the floor. In other words, that squirrel could soon be among us.

So I decided to fight back. I was going to plug that hole as best I could, then try and scare off my house guest. I was talking to my father on the phone at the time who found all of this amusing, because I had to move my bed out of the way in a very small room to access the pipe.

This failed because I broke the bed.

I was pulling on it and one of the support joints creaked then broke. Part of the bed collapsed. I was not pleased at this. The metal pin holding the two sections together was badly bent and I couldn't remove it. I also couldn't think because my dad was laughing at me.

I hung up on him.

Then I got a hammer and fixed that bitch. I straightened out the pin, set the frame in place, then called Catherine because I needed an alan key to tighten the joint and I didn't know where they were.

I quickly explained to her and David what the problem was, and once they stopped laughing, I was told where the key was.

I got the bed fixed, the hole plugged, and all was well. Although all the hammering, yelling, stuffing, and everything else in between scared off the squirrel anyway. I plan to tell people that this was my expected outcome all along.

A Poor Use of My Time...

2006-10-22T15:09:00.000-04:00

Or is it?

I found this great program online as I was making up my lesson plan in short fiction next week. It's just a filler exercise should I need to make up a bit of time, but it's handy anyway.

My orientation days at the school went quite well. My associate teacher, Scott, is fantastic and assures me that I won't feel any stress at all. I accepted his statement and wondered where my intense stress headache was coming from.

"Don't be stressed," he said. Pfft. He doesn't know me very well.

But you guys do, so enjoy the crossword!

Mini-mates...

2006-10-16T16:54:00.000-04:00

Due to mounting pressure from the Dom, I gave in and got a Zipcar membership. For those of you who don't know, Zipcar is a service offered in many cities, including Toronto, that allows you to take one of their cars out for whatever you want.

You need to reserve the car, but included in your hourly fee of roughly $11 is gas and insurance. It's great for local trips because if you want anything longer or farther you're better off with a traditional rental.

At any rate, we got the membership several weeks ago, but only yesterday did we exercise our newfound power. Catherine finally got to driver her Mini Cooper.

She's obsessed with the make. There's a car lot around the corner where one is parked all the time and we booked it for a round-trip to Ikea yesterday. For three hours, we acted like Mini Cooper owners.

It's a pretty cool little car. The break is super sensitive, and the "go" as Catherine calls it needs a bit of coercing at first, but it's fun. As you can see, we had to take a few pictures.

We have no need for a car (usually) but having the option to drive one around is nice. Besides, how else we were going to get to drive one?

Tomorrow, the practicum starts. Or at least the orientation. I already have a bit of insider info and I'm approaching the whole process with a mixture of excitement and dread.

I'll do my best to pull through.

Looking for me?

2006-10-09T18:09:00.000-04:00

Hell, I am too.

I've been in hiding. Well, no, not really. Just busy with busy work. Teacher's college, for the two or three of you who know, isn't really about tough work, tons of essays, and late nights. What it IS about is a lot of busy work. You're always busy with some little assignment or another.

This doesn't always mean the assignments make sense. My first week I was asked to bring in a poem to read to the class. The next week, I was asked to write a poem about myself. I tried going the angsty-teen route, but it didn't work.

The third week, we had to bring in newspapers to tear up and create found poetry. Then my prof sent me home to put my group's poem on paper. Well, one of them I did properly. The other one, well, see below. In my defense, it was mostly my idea.

I know that's not a defense. The REAL defense is that I'm friends with all of you people.

Or am I still? I wasn't able to go to Jer's housewarming which I'm sure was a lovely time. I still need to get my butt over there as soon as possible. I'm also going to invite Jer and Megan (as well as anyone else who is interested) to join Catherine and I for a candlelit tour of Casa Loma at Halloween. We did it last year and it was fantastic. Much better than the day time with a focus on the castle's ghosts.

Aaron at least is coming down this weekend. I need to write him about that as it seems that depending on when he gets here, I may not be able to spend as much time with him. On Saturday, Catherine's aunt from England is going to visit us. There's only so much of me to go around, but I feel a tremendous need to share all things geek with Aaron. Besides, out of everyone who reads this blog, I get the feeling he needs a break more than most.

Aaron, don't give up your blog. I read that thing. You're depriving me of minutes a day as I invest in your life. Think about ME before you make such decisions.

My back hurts and I'm hungry. Tired, too.

But Heroes is on tonight. You guys should be watching that show. It's quite interesting. Lost is looking interesting this year, as is Veronica Mars. But the winner of all the premieres is Battlestar Galactica. I promise I'm TiVoing all the new eps for those of you who aren't caught up. It's just SO damn good. Season 3 is kicking my ass already and they've only aired the first two episodes.

My Hard Drive is Eating Itself...

2006-10-02T16:34:00.000-04:00

One of the biggest drawbacks to no longer having a job is that I no longer have a stable, powerful computer to do all of my work on. My computer at work was a sizeable beast of a Mac, but my PC laptop has had five years of hard living and it's starting to show.

The internet will crap out for no reason whatsoever. It's not the cable box, it's the computer. All of a sudden, it just won't recognize the internet. I have to reboot.

Then there's the harddrive. If it isn't having some catastrophic failure it's slowly eating itself. During a marathon session of photoshop crapping out on me and my deleting a ton of things off the drive to free up space, the new issue is that after having freed up more than 2 gigs of space it now seems to have all disappeared.

Nothing new was put on the drive, but I'm down to 400 mgs of free space.

My hard drive is eating itself.

The easiest thing to do, I suppose, would be to wipe the whole thing and start over again. However, seeing as I am not possessed of a great deal of funds nor do I have a copy of Word readily available, I'm not about to do this now that I'm actually dependent on my machine to help me produce works that will enable me to graduate.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the source of my frustration this week.

Catherine keeps telling me I need to relax. BAH to that, I say. BAH.

October...

2006-10-01T11:23:00.000-04:00

October
And the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care
October
And kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on

Is anyone else astonished that it's October already? How does that happen? How is it possible that I've been in school for three weeks, not had that job for three weeks, and all the other crazy life changes that have been going on lately.

And why is no one else blogging?

I know Aaron has no life any more considering he's pulling the reigns at The Ontarion, but Jer has no excuse. Nor Josh. Nor Nicole. Heck, what does SHE have to do all day?

Oh. Right.

Shortpacked...

2006-09-24T22:25:00.000-04:00

Ah, my fair, sweet internet. Why is it that sometimes I feel that only you really get me?

There's something so sweet, so powerful, about going out and hunting for that one, elusive figure and the evil denizens (store employees) who try to stand in your way but fail miserably.

I'd kill for a good toy. Sigh...

The End Result...

2006-09-18T13:52:00.000-04:00

I know I don't work there any more, but my last day at FMG was actually a pretty good one. I did some work, but more importantly, I did some work making a few fond memories thanks to my camera.

Stop it. Nothing dirty (this means you, Jer).

No, instead I took a few moments to chronicle the misadventures of my former co-workers and myself. I uploaded them all to youtube and now present them here for you to enjoy.

The first one is entitled 'The Search for Water.' It features Nathan and I being dicks to our co-worker, Martin, who's heavily Spanish-accented pronounciation of 'Baafffalo' ranks among our funniest moments. Nathan and I would steal his water constantly and hide it in obvious places around the office. This time, we got his search on video. Of course, the second I started taping, Martin had to ham it up.

The next video is pure Nathan and I. The question I pose to him is "Do you ever wish you were white?"

Next up I scare the crap out of a woman named Sandra. Her office space is quiet except for her little stereo and she always zones out. This was the fifth time I'd done this to her and I think she was getting a bit ticked off.

Lastly, Sheila. She does this sort of thing a lot. Nate and I have but to ask and she performed like a little monkey.

All of that being said, I don't miss my job and I don't think about it at all. It's a nice feeling. Back to school work now (what little I have).

Death by Boredom...

2006-09-13T17:43:00.000-04:00

Now that work is done (can I get a collective "hell yeah?") I should be dancing in the streets. School has started and at present my demanding schedule has given me Mondays and Wednesdays off, with classes ending by 12:30 on Tuesday and Friday.

That's a bit too much free time for me.

I don't miss work and I don't wish my OLD job on anybody, but I have to admit it certainly did fill out the day. Now I don't have Nathan to talk to, hit, or ignore, instead I have the brimming-over silence of my apartment broken only by the sounds of Truffle rattling on her cage bars.

I'm sure that once the semester starts rolling I'll have more little assignments to keep me busy. I already have been given, and completed, a couple of very minor things. So far, if this is a taste of things to come, I'm not going to be challenged very much.

At least not until the actual job starts.

In the meantime, I have the internet to play with, karate practices to go to on my own, and images such as Mr. Optimus Prime (seen above) to share with my audience of, oh, say 10 people.

But at least it's something to do. I'm starting to warm to the movie version of The Transformers even if the Decepticons have all gone horribly wrong. Optimus, at least, looks enough like the character I know and love for me not to run out and grab a pitchfork.

Other than that, I'm just sitting around in my shorts waiting for something to happen. I'm working a bit for Julian (the psychiatrist) again and am owed a bit of cash from a few sources. Hopefully the Dom (Catherine, so called 'the Dom' due to her status as the Dominant Bread-winner) will let me splurge on something fun every now and then. Even though we saved for this bit of schooling, I need to watch my purse strings.

And maybe have a shower or something.

End of Days...

2006-09-08T11:19:00.000-04:00

I haven't written anything here in more than a week, despite the many things that I found I had to blog about. Partly I was busy, partly I was stressed. Mostly, I think, I'm just avoiding things.

This is a period of big changes and not just for me. Jer and Meg have a new home together, Nicole and Jamie are parents now to little Isabel, Aaron is the EIC of the Ontarion, my dad just retired, my brother is losing his job, David is getting set up in Guelph and much more.

It all seems to be coming down to the wire. Faster and swifter than I would have imagined after months of counting down the days, today is my final day at FMG. I thought I'd be a lot more happy and giddy after the various struggles I had, particularly early on in my career here.

But I'm actually sad. I cleaned out my desk, gave Nathan a present and have been wearing a foam piece of cheese that Nathan brought home for me after his trip to Wiconsin for a baseball game. No one here seems to find this terribly odd. I take that as a compliment.

Earlier this week, my co-workers took me out for lunch to Jack Astor's. More than a dozen people showed up and that doesn't include the six or seven who couldn't make it. Whether I wanted to realize it or not, I made a lot of friends here. The job had become unsatsifying creatively, but I can't deny that it changed me. Gave me more skills, both professionally and in terms of office politics, that I can see myself using in the future. This job was far from a waste of my time though the moment for change has finally come.

All my work is done. There's a company barbecue today and maybe Nate will even drive me out to Toys R Us.

I started teacher's college yesterday. It was just an orientation, but I like the fact that it overlapped by a day with my job. Out with one, in with another. I have Mondays and Wednesdays off until mid-October at school. After the 9-5, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself.

But it's time to find out. I waited long enough. I've been patient.

All good things (or in this case, so-so) must come to an end.

I feel like I should tell someone to make sure to feed and water Nathan. I'm going to miss him most of all. Five days a week sitting next to each other and he's become one of my best friends. He's a good man who helped me a lot and has been a good friend. I hope that I get to see him as often as possible. We'll go see the Blue Jays.

In the cheap seats. Nate'll hate that, which in turn, will amuse me.

And that's it.

I've conquered my past,
The future is here at last.
I stand at the entrance
To a new world I can see.

LAST actual day at work.

China Thursdays #4 - More Antics

2006-08-31T15:07:00.000-04:00

I was so excited to see David in China as it had been more than 14 months since I saw him last. We had worked together at Rainbow Daycamp in addition to becoming more and more 'family' as a result of Catherine and I's ongoing relationship.

But he's such a ham.

If I wasn't rolling my eyes I was definitely laughing. You can't be around Dave and not enjoy yourself. He just has this quirky, manic energy and an infectious laugh. Also, he has no issues making fun of anyone or anything.

During our time in China, David was a constant source of amusement, often at odd times and doing things that you wouldn't expect a sane person to do. While we were on the Great Wall, I asked Catherine to shoot a small video of David and I walking along. David, however, decided to improvise.

There were many such bizarre incidents taking place in Yangshou, Guilin, Nanjing, Shanghai, Beijing, and then again once we were all together again here in Toronto. Sometimes you want to smack him, other times you ask him to pretend to be a dog while you videotape it.

You don't actually expect him to agree, but while we were touring a particularly steep section in the Summer Palace in Beijing, David decided to accomodate me. He even tried to get Catherine to participate, but she was having none of it.

Speaking of Catherine, she seems willing to permit David a score of odd behaviours that I would get reprimanded for should I ever dare to attempt them. David acts up, and it's hilarious.

In Nanjing, for instance, David spent a night bothering Catherine while she was writing postcards. He took each of her postcards and wrote insane things on them. The goal for her, he said, was to find a way to incorporate what he wrote on the back of the cards. We were all laughing, but I think if I had done it I'd have gotten beat up.

David wrote on one card "If there's a God in heaven..." and ended it with "you know my motto: an eye for an eye." David didn't find out until later that Catherine had set aside that particular card for her friend who was a bit religious.

Of course, that only made it funnier.

David brought a great deal of amusement to our trip which was good. He also cost a lot of money (inadvertantly) by making the wrong friends in Shanghai.

As a result, I now hate tea.

This installment of China Thursdays officially salutes David.

4 actual days at work left.