There are people who come into our lives and stealthily embed themselves into it fairly deeply without any attempt at creating an emotional bond. By embedding themselves into our lives, they become the background: the wallpaper to a room packed with memorabilia. They're there but do not capture our attention really because the memorabilia keeps our eyes distracted from noticing anything else in the room. This was the case of a tragic fellow I once knew.

My elementary school had a reading program (as with any other elementary schools) where the upperclassmen would partner up with the younger students and help them with their reading. I knew it as the buddy reader system. It was in my 6th grade (because my town deprived us of a junior high and ended elementary school at grade 7) that I was partnered up with young asian boy as a buddy reader. He was fairly energetic and had a lot of charisma. Friendly and well-mannered, he was, and quite a good reader if I remember correctly. In any case, he was someone whom I felt fairly protective over during my elementary years because of this relationship in which we were forced into.

In highschool, however, those protective feelings for my buddy reader disappeared considering that we now were in two different schools and I was off learning more important things. Things like how to get away with drinking on weekends, who to go to to find booze, and learning what happens when you spark a joint. Also, it was a time of important academic transition and even more importantly a time of social birth. In highschool reputations mattered and who your friends were was what made your reputation so worrying about little things like some kid in your old school was an option easily ignored. Eventually, in my last year of highschool my buddy reader ended up registering for my highschool.

When this happened, it was clear to me that seeing as I had established a reputation in highschool already and was on my way out of highschool I could do a little good and associate myself with the little brat who turned out to be a pretty decent jock. Furthermore, I also learned that he had a big brother who was in the same grade as me (he was a social-anomaly like Napoleon Dynamite, however) who I knew of but didn't know. That was until we ended up being in a class together and were made to work on a project together. I found that his brother was actually a pretty neat person who was extremely well-educated in the field of science fiction. Furthermore, I found out that these brother's mother was the owner/head choreographer of a dance studio that rivaled the dance studio that I competitively danced for for seven years. Having an acquaintance with her sons I guess made her feel obligated to talk to me about my life every time we passed each other by and seemed to genuinely care. Then I went off to university and forgot about these people that made their way pretty deeply into my life. To me, our bond was kind of superficial and wasn't worth maintaining.

Even though I was in University, he still managed to take minor rolls in my life. For instance, one year he was my cousin's boyfriend and I saw him often. But other than that, I didn't really go out of my way to have a meaningful conversation with him. I mean, we threw back generic questions like how have you been? how has school been? etc. But nothing more substantial than that. Even his minor appearances in my life wasn't enough to create something significant between the two of us.

Now the reason why I bring all this up is because I heard some news from back home and now am conflicted with how I should be feeling. You see, there was an incident in a chinese restaurant and the result of this incident was the death of my buddy reader. How am I supposed to feel about this? Am I supposed to be sad about the situation? I mean I am sad, but not mourning sad. I'm sad that he died so young, even before he finished highschool. Actually this summer was the summer he graduated. So he was fresh out of highschool with so many prospects of opportunities. I'm sad that he was caught in the crossfire of unnecessary gun violence. I feel bad for his family, having to go through something as tragic this. But other than that minute feeling of sadness, I feel no different than any other day.

I feel like I should be feeling a sense of loss. I mean, all things considered, I had known the kid since he was in grade 2 and I did genuinely like the kid. But I don't feel any sense of loss. In fact loss is probably the last thing that's on my mind. Instead, I feel superficial like a dirty politician. Rather than mourning the loss of a great guy that I had known since childhood, I'm 'mourning' the condition of society in that it was gun violence that took the life of an innocent bystander instead. And I'm not even mourning over this condition, but rather just debating it with other like-minded people over beers that I would probably do on any other occasion. To me this piece of news feels so detached that it's affected me just as much as it would if I had watched it on the news. Impersonal, distant, insignificant, un-influential to my life.

The way I feel, however, makes me feel inwardly disgusting. When did I lose my sense of humanity that a death of an acquaintance can't even squeeze a single tear from my eye. When a death of an acquaintance doesn't even make my heart twitch a little. I should be mourning this. I should be feeling a sense of loss, but instead I live my life like every day and feel the exact same way. If it wasn't for my brother's or cousin's msn names I would have probably forgotten about this unfortunate event already. It's times like this when I feel like the city has changed me into a bad person. But now it's off of my chest, I'll probably go to bed tonight and wake up tomorrow morning with a clear conscience. It's unfortunate, but realistic.

I have just recently posted three joural entries. This'll be my fourth one today. You may be confused if you read my entries because they seem to not be happening on the same day. You are correct in assuming so, I just had them posted on a different blog and decided I should try to make use of livejournal again and so I posted it here as well. The first entry that I posted today happened three days ago, then the next one was two days ago, and the last one happened yesterday. Just thought I'd explain...I mean, I probably do not have readers on this, but it's nice to pretend that I do.

Yesterday, I found out that I had cut myself worse than I thought.

So the story goes like this. I woke up yesterday morning, still feeling the throbbing sensation of my cut. No surprise there, I thought, the cut was pretty deep. So I get up, go through my morning routine (minus tea/coffee because I broke the coffee pot) and decide to change the dressing of my cut. So as I'm unwrapping I'm looking at my finger all bruised and cut, when all of sudden it starts bleeding again. I looked at where it was bleeding from and not only was there blood seeping ot of the cut but also a chunk of flesh was sticking out. Gross? I think so. It looked and felt like a filleted fish.

Long story short, I ended up going to an hospital e.r. to get it looked at. Actually I went to two because apparently yesterday was the national day of accidents and everybody who was anybody was waiting in the waiting room to see a doctor. I ended up walking out of the hospital 4 hours after I had arrived downtown to seek aid with two stitches and a very condescending lecture on making sure I go to the doctor right away to get a cut stitched up if it gapes open and allows chunks of flesh to poke out.

I think the highlight of my day was the fact that I dragged a friend of mine along with me, who ended up entertaining me greatly as I waited. In fact, so entertaining were her antics that she even went as far as filling up a latex glove with water after I explicitly told her to not do that because it would pop; and then accidentally popping the glove, soaking the floor and herself right in the middle of the doctor putting a needle in my finger to freeze it. We also did some looting of surgical gloves and masks (because you never know when you'll need sugical gloves and masks) and unknowingly ran out with a vaccuum packed suture kit. So now I can do all my stitching at home if I cut myself again.

What a fun-filled day!

I went crazy today. I don't know, I woke up and maybe it was how I slept but my anal retentive switch was turned on. So as I was going to make some tea to wake myself up I quickly became disgusted with the state of filthiness my apartment was in. It was about 10 in the morning and I tried to ignore the feeling of disgust that was steadily consuming me, but to no avail. So I began with the fireplace. I actually crouched inside it scrubbing away at the scorched bricks. Anyway, I spent some time doing that but continued on to scrub the whole apartment down. I even took rugs outside to beat them (the communal vaccuum is broken).

Half way through my cleaning binge I was washing some dishes when voila, I unknowingly broke the coffee pot and unfortunately sliced my finger open in two different places. I didn't realize a finger could bleed so much, but being the trooper that I am I wrapped it up, put pressure on it and waited till the blood stopped soaking through the gauze. After a while, it stopped, I continued and now I'm sitting in an immaculate appartment with a slight throbbing from my finger to remind me how much work I put into this apartment today.

A little pain really does make you appreciate things more.

I went for a walk today down Yonge St. from Eglinton. It was sunny, hot, a little sticky but with a nice breeze so all in all it was perfect summer weather. I decided I'd take my bearded dragon, Exacto, with me. Now I love taking my lizard for a walk because I love seeing how people react to him.

Today the reactions I got were pretty normal, save for a hispanic girl who saw my lizard two seconds too late and ended up right beside him. As you can imagine, this illicited a scream and her rapid escape to safety from the big bad lizard. Aside from that very exciting two seconds, I also got a lot of questions, you know the usual questions for those who take their lizards for a walk (what do you feed it? what exactly is it? does it bite? can I pet it? etc.).

I think that one particular girl's reaction was quite disturbing. She was white, had short brown hair and was wearing generic summer clothing. She was actually pretty cute come to think of it. In any case, so this girl is walking by and as she gets about five metres away from me she twists her face in the most grotesque expression of horror in my life. Then she detours by crossing the street.

I didn't realize that my bearded dragon was that scary to some people. But still, she went from being completely cute to being horribly unattractive. She kinda looked like Voldemort twisting his face in horror because of a mouse. After the face she made, I was kinda glad she crossed the street, because I probably would have, seeing as her expression scared me more than how she probably felt about my lizard. But that's mean...ok...enough of that.

Laundry is fun.

dear victoria college,

i know that writing you a letter like this is a cowardly way to do this, but i just couldn't do this in person. you know we've always had a good time. those endless vusac meetings, the high-spirits of frosh week, the sweet pub nights, we've done it all. but you see, it's like this. the moment i moved off of campus, we started drifting apart. i held on to you as much as i could, but i'm afraid that somewhere down the line, i had to let go. you started forgetting me, i started getting frustrated with you. but then, for a couple of years we were able to be together again. i had matured and you, well you took kindly to that. i felt that you loved me again. i thought it would last forever. but see, this far down the road i've begun to have doubts about us. is there an us? will there be a happily ever after? i can't risk giving to you what i'm uncertain about getting back. with that said, i'm breaking up with you. i can't keep repressing this deep feeling because of fear that you'll lash out at me in a negative way. i'll always care about you, remember that. don't close your doors to me, i'll be by to visit. i hope you understand and i hope we can still be friends. believe me, it's not you, it's me. i have dreams i need to follow. i need to be happy again. don't forget me victoria. i'll never forget you.

you're in my heart always,
J.N.

i lied. there's nothing fantastic about this entry at all. except maybe the title...and even that isn't as fantastic as i would like it to be. in any case, this is a new entry.

i've forgotten how to blog, or perhaps i never knew how in the first place, but i figure posting words on my livejournal is close enough. its a start at least.

i almost forgot that this existed and in turn i forgot that this side of me existed as well. the side that continually nags at me to air my dirty laundry out via livejournal so the world can see all the ketchup stains in my life and get their kicks too. truly i say, what's more interesting than a stain? nothing else provides as much entertainment in life as knowing how utterly messed up other people are. it makes me feel better that i am not alone.

what can i write about, though, that will cause some light chuckles and maybe make someone's day a little better? hmm...not much probably, but i'll try. try to write something that people actually want to read.

umm, how about this:

i embarassingly got a massive erection at work while helping someone try on shoes. what's worse is that the pants i was wearing literally did nothing to hide the fact that i had a boner (an unjustified boner considering that this person was unattractive to the very t). in order to divert any more of the attention to my groin area i used the hand-in-the-pocket-and-adjust technique which turned more into the hand-in-the-pocket-to-hold-it-down-while-i-ran-to-hide-in-the-backroom technique. it worked and the only people (hopefully) that noticed were the ones sitting immediately in front of me at groin level. at least i made someone feel attractive.

that's all i have.

~fin~

You know, I haven't been very true to my active self lately. I didn't work out all summer...well ok, maybe once or twice...I feel very unhealthy. I also haven't used LJ for an actual 'blog' entry in a very long time. Almost as long as my working out hiatus. I don't know what's going on, but you know what? I'm happy. Happier than I have been in a very long time. Perhaps everybody needs to go on hiatus every so and so, just to make the world a little better. Perhaps I'll return to LJ...hmmmm...

Paranoia. The feeling hangs in the air haunting me, like a noose waiting to embrace me and deliver me into the outstretched arms of death. Wretched feeling. Wretched. I look around this empty apartment. I see no one but the lone reflection of myself staring into the mirror. But the corner of my vision tells me otherwise. There's a cloaked figure lingering behind the doorway. Is he the driver of the chariot that has come to take me to the world beyond living? There's a knock on the door, barely audible. The knocking gets softer, until the sound disappears and all that's left is the pounding of my heart and the trickling of my sweat. I'm locked in a silent film left without a voice to call for help. I can't shake this feeling. It won't leave me alone...

Perhaps another toke isn't so wise afterall.

hasn't phoned back...

should i be pissed off?

Starting off the day thinking that there's an earthquake, is one surefire way to piss me off. I woke up this morning and everything was shaking.

'Oh shit' I thought, 'Earthquake, fuck! I live on the 32nd floor of a high-rise!' This was at 9:00 am. Still somewhat sleeping, I tried to get out of bed so I could get under a table, but then I realized that it wasn't an earthquake, it was some jackass upstairs tearing up the floor. I started yelling loud profanities at the ceiling, shaking my fist like a madman, and then it stopped. Satisfied, I laid myself back down to catch at least another half hour of sleep. I started dozing off again, then, as if the guy knew exactly how to push my buttons, he started up that fucking loud machine again. I felt defeated, unloved, hated. Not really, but I tell you that my hatred for them grew tenfold. I tried to ignore the shaking and the loudness, but it really was impossible. I could not believe that they were trying to fix the floor of the apartment above us again! They did this last summer too and it took nearly a month. To make things worse, at around ten o'clock in the a.m, a second machine was added to the mix. Two times the fun, I bet they were thinking! Double your pleasure. Fuck them, jackasses! Oh well, if they bring in two every day, maybe they can cut down their work time by half. Hell I'd let them have 10 machines in there if the job would only last a day.

This made me look forward to moving out of my building. Really look forward to it!

I'm trying to find a 19" hourglass with a removable top so that I can add my own sand to it. Just thought I'd tell you all, and by all I mean the two or three people that read this. SO, if you know of a 19" hourglass with a removable top, let me know.

I was sitting alone today, like every other day when I'm at home, and remembered that it was Easter.

'It's Easter,' I thought, 'That's why I had the day off today.'

Duh, anyway, so I realized it was Easter and started reflecting on my life once again. I feel like most everything makes me reflect on my life, kinda like the world is just one gigantic mirror and I can't escape the fact that probably I'll end up reflecting on my life with every encounter or experience I have. That's not what I want to talk about though, getting back on the subject of holidays I began to recall the last time I experienced a true Easter. That was four years ago.

'Wow, four years, that was a long time ago,' was where my mind wandered to next. A long time indeed which got me thinking about other holidays that I also haven't held with any regard in the past four years. It turns out that I have pretty much ignored any holiday that's come my way in the past four years, save for Thanksgiving, but even my experiences with that holiday falls short of a real Thanksgiving. Christmas I don't count, because I go back home and am forced to celebrate it with as much gusto as my heart can afford. Anyway, much like every other reflection I've had, the question of 'why?' materialized in front of me. Why haven't I been celebrating any holidays? I have no excuses really. You see, I do have family here (family that I don't quite get on with comfortably, but family still) and I like to think I have friends here, perhaps not as good as the friends I have in BC but there are some decent relationships that I feel like I've made with people in this part of the world. So why the neglect?

As an answer to satisfy the 'why?'s' that badger my mind, I have to say that if I begin to celebrate holidays here, then I admit to myself that I have started to create a home here in Toronto, which is something that is conceivably the worst idea to me. I don't desire to have a home in Toronto. Toronto would probably be the last place that I would want to attach the word to. As I see it, the four years I've spent here in Toronto are temporary and necessary to my situation. I, by no means, want to start settling down here. In that sense I can't bring myself to celebrate any holidays. I don't want to get too comfortable with Toronto, because if I do, then I might end up staying a little longer than I plan to, meaning that my misery will be stretched out a little longer than it has to. But then again, perhaps it's this defiance that I have against making the best of things here in Toronto that's causing my misery to stay. Perhaps I should try to celebrate a holiday and see if it makes Toronto life a little more pleasant. I mean for all I know, if I did start actively building a long-term life here in Toronto, I may end up liking it. It's not all bad, I have to admit, though I tend to whine about it on LJ all the time like an angsty little emo kid. I mean, it isn't bothering me too much nowadays, considering that I've changed my lifestyle quite a bit making things here a little easier to palate. I don't know.

I guess I just got nostalgic leading to mild case of homesickness manifesting itself into a small, fleeting bout of angry depression against Toronto. Oh well, Happy Easter people.

So I guess it's official. I've been accepted into the embrace of American Eagle (somewhat). Last night I got completely hammered with some people at work. It was a good time. Different and a little strange because they're all not from Vic or UofT, but I had fun. I woke up this morning slightly hungover and with a bunch of pictures on my phone. This summer looks like it may be a good one after all.

I went for a run today, despite what my trainer friend told me not to do. It was a lazy day (Good Friday) and I was bored. I didn't want to stay in and watch movies and because the gym was closed I couldn't go there to pass the time. I also started feeling lazy and unhealthy seeing as school and work has been taking up most if not all of my time causing me to miss a good week and a half of training. So off I went hoping that I wouldn't look like an idiot as I jogged along the streets of Toronto.

I've never been the type to jog outside of a track. I've probably done so only a handful of times versus the amount of time I've spent padding and sweating along an outdoor/indoor track. It usually makes me feel more conscious running on the streets. Probably because no one else is running but me, giving people (and by people I mean walking pedestrians and drivers) the opportunity to judge me on my form and technique. It makes for a very uncomfortable run, usually, when those thoughts plant themselves in my mind. I was surprised today. As much as I dwelt on those thoughts before I began to run, the didn't stick and the run was a pretty good one in my opinion.

It was nice to be able to look at the scenery as I ran and listen to things other than the squeaking and creaking of gym equipment, the grunts of body builders and the annoying chatter of girls running in pairs around the track checking out all the guys working out. Yes, it was a good change to hear the cooing of pigeons and the roaring of engines as fast cars zipped by. The best part, though, had to be the feeling of the breeze as I was running. It felt nice and liberating. It was nice to just get out there and let my thoughts go! It was nice to allow it to create different scenarios as to the reason why I was running and why the wind felt so liberating. I felt like I was 10 again standing on top of a boulder at the edge of the woods on a particularly windy day. I remember closing my eyes and imagining that I was a wizard and that it was I who was controlling the dancing of the wind. Every change of direction was my doing. That has got to be one of my favourite childhood memories.

Sometimes I still do that, stand outside on a windy or rainy day and just close my eyes. If I had the ability to run with my eyes closed without crashing into anything, I think I would do that more often. I'd let my thoughts roam to different worlds that I've neglected to visit since I grew up. It would beat having to pay thousands of dollars for a trip to some exotic place. Oh, I was such a day-dreamer as a child, but I tell you what, I loved it. I still do, I just don't have the luxury of time to be able to sit around with my eyes closed and fall into the embrace of a soft, grassy knoll while listening to the nymphs play around me, smiling.

Anyway, I jogged from here to St. George and back. Not too far, but far enough. Here is the route that I jogged:

the red dots show the route that I took going towards st. george, and the blue dots show the route I took coming back. I took a small water break at st. george.

If anybody has any ideas of a scenic and not too difficult jogging route, I'd love to try it out.

You DO NOT have the RIGHT OF WAY when you are at a RED LIGHT, regardless of whether you are turning right or not. PEDESTRIANS crossing the street DO, however. ALSO, the SIDEWALK is for PEDESTRIANS, so if you feel inclined to use the sidewalk, GET OFF OF YOUR BIKE AND WALK BESIDE IT.

assholes.

1.) The stack of six dvds that I purchased today from hmv.
2.) The bottle of wine chilling in my refrigerator ready to be consumed.
3.) The mysterious powers of my lizard.
4.) The pack of cigarettes that I purposely purchased last night due to the high stress level of the evening (I hate myself for caving in to the satisfying flavour of death from these evil little poison pops).
5.) The nifty features of the new piece of technology I purchased yesterday.
6.) Unnecessary hunger.
7.) Unnecessary bathroom breaks.
8.) Websites like livejournal and facebook.
9.) The distracting length of my hair.
10.) The glossy surface of my metropass.
11.) The power trip over the TTC that comes with having a metropass.
12.) Dorothy L. Sayers!
13.) Final Fantasy VIII.
14.) The comforts of my bed.
15.) Hal Johnson and Joanne mcleod.
16.) The paint program.
17.) Text Twist
18.) The exercise ball
19.) I won't lie...Porno.
20.) The ability to be entertained by making lists of things that distract me from finishing my essay.

I've been sitting in front of this computer now for almost 15 hours. I've been trying to do work, but focus doesn't come easy. I feel as if I've forgotten how to do anything related to school. I kind of hate myself for that, so I started mentally beating myself up with abusive put-downs so harsh that I've exhausted myself terribly and have reverted to licking my self-inflicted, emotional wounds by means of reasoning. I've come to realize that I actually don't want to be in school. As much as I excited myself last year with whimsical thoughts of my glorious return to the academic world, I have found that not only was I naively mistaken about how school would be again, but I've also found that part of the reason why I hate school so much is because I live so far from anything that I consider familiar. It's true that I've been in Toronto for four years now, however, the comforts of B.C. are still fresh in my mind and I know that all I have to do is drop out, go back and my state of "fucked-upness" will begin to decrease and I'll finally feel normal again. I refuse to go back though. I refuse because of pride. I can't go back unless I can successfully show U of T who their messing with and get away with a much earned B.A. A B.A. that I'll never use. In fact, I might even burn it afterward but that's in the future. Baby steps first. I need to get myself back to having the work ethics that I tried so hard to adopt in the beginning of the first semester. Who am I kidding though, U of T is a hard institution to kick in the balls. No, actually it isn't. It's my priorities that need to be straightened before anything can happen. Who do i think I am anyway? Getting mixed up in all these councils and student governments. Extra-Curricular activities suck balls, but once into it, it's like heroine. You need that fix, and you need to have more and more because the high just isn't the same as it was the first time around. I secretly wish that everybody voted no during the elections. It would have done me a world of good.