“I am day drunk with the people I don’t care about,” I complained once to my friend who lives far away. He said it would be a good sentence to start a novel. There’s a very important lesson to be learned here. It’s so much more fun to drink with people you care about. It leads to adventures, to fun, to life long memories. Continue reading
QOTD
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Los Angeles was incorporated as a city on April 4, 1850. Continue reading
The American Scholar recently published a list of its editors’ picks for the “Ten Best Sentences.” Fitzgerald took the first slot, with this sentence from The Great Gatsby: “Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.” Continue reading
So, I’m not really one for April Fool’s jokes because I’m not terribly clever, but I do enjoy seeing them played out. A lot of companies now use them to launch new products. My favorite are the Google April Fool’s jokes/hoaxes. Continue reading
KnightoftheBurningRiver has let his iPod take him on a road trip down to 1998. Through some boring series of events, I found myself searching for the Billboard Top 100 songs from that year. What a trip down Memory Lane that was. Continue reading
With all the recent events in Europe I have been thinking a lot about freedom and what does it mean to me. Continue reading
So, they’re making a movie of your life. Just the interesting parts, you know. Like that big fight in the street in front of the bar that night. And the touching reunion you had with [insert name here]. And that ugly break-up. And the time you slept with [name redacted], despite your better judgment.
I grew up near Kapuskasing (kap-us-KAY-sing). On the Mattagami River (ma-TOG-uh-mee). Not far from Opasatika (op-ah-SAT-ih-kah).
Thus, I’m used to peculiar place-names that are a problem to pronounce. Or so I thought. Then I went to South Carolina. To Beaufort. Which I pronounced ‘Bo-for’, as any proper Canadian would do. Nope. Bew-furt. Continue reading
My third grade teacher, Mrs. Henderson, told my mother I got “frisky” in the springtime. In junior high, once April hit, I had a habit of developing deep, unrequited crushes on possibly inappropriate young men. In particular, exotic-looking 9th grade track team members who lived too far away for me to stroll casually past their house. In high school, as soon as the weather was warm enough, my friends and I would take late-night drives to local Lake Erie beaches, staying out way past curfew and possibly drinking entire 2-liters of Sun Country Wine Coolers in assorted flavors. Ah, Sun Country, the taste of lost innocence. In college, there was Spring Break and basketball and late nights, knowing our group of friends wouldn’t have the luxury of seeing each other 24/7 for a few months.
At the end of college, I had a perfect day. An election campaign on which I worked was incredibly successful and, when I walked back to my apartment after getting the results, I found my acceptance to law school waiting in the mailbox. It was a Friday, so at 4:45, I walked into my local bar to meet my friends, most of whom were graduating in a few short weeks. The world was limitless, the future was full of possibility, I was surrounded by people I cared about and there were no barriers to what we could do.