Bits Of Babbling

Fast Food Follies

Today I stopped by Chicken Express, a fast food chicken joint in the same vein as Popeye and Colonel Sanders' establishments. My order came to a total of $4.32, so I pulled out $20.32 and waited for the car in front of me to leave the window.

It didn't leave the window.

I waited a bit, then a bit more, then even a bit more. Suddenly I stopped waiting, but only for a brief moment as I read a text message sent by the lovely Meags, then proceeded to wait a bit more.

Finally, the car left the window.

In situations like these, one is apt to blame the customer in front of them for the delay, at 9:35 at night the only thing open is the drive-thru and this car was not behind any other car when it arrived (It arrived a bit before I did, the drive-thru was empty when it got there) so the army of chicken warriors could only possibly be working on this one sole customer's order. It had to be a difficult customer giving them problems with a complicated order, right? Wrong, as I was soon to discover.

I pulled up and was greeted by some girl who started to reach out for my part of the bargain, the $20.32, when the guy who took my order came to the window and indicated this treasure was rightfully his. He then proceeded, as any good cashier should do, to count the money. He even recounted the money. Again, he recounted the money - no, I'm not re-iterating for emphasis, he really did count it a third time. And a fourth time. Perhaps a fifth. He announced he had finally figured out that one 20 dollar bill, 1 quarter, 1 nickel, and 2 pennies adds up to $20.32 and NOT $20.37. This is indeed a difficult concept for any 5 year old to follow, so let me write it out. 20 + .25 + .05 + .01 + .01 != 20.37. He then proceeded to drop the quarter and not pick it up claiming he "didn't care" about the quarter. The extra nickel he kept coming up with sure was a problem, but losing a quarter apparently is not.

He handed me 15 dollars changed and yelled a few times for somebody to bring him some 1s to complete the change-making process. This took a while, but eventually he got me my change. After finally pulling himself together from the stressful addition excercise, he handed me my receipt and bid me a good night. It was an awfully nice "good night," I'll give you that. But it certainly wasn't worth $4.32. I opted to wait for my food rather than settle for a few kind words. Apparently he is not used to such ungrateful cretins as myself to dare stick around after he graced us with his stunning rendition of the familiar late-night good-bye, because he just kind of stared at me for a bit. With a sudden moment of realization that I might want a bit more than a good-night for my $4.32, he handed me my Sprite.

He then proceeded to stare, this time with an 80% more vacant look.

I gave him a few moments to contemplate before mentioning that he had not given me my food. He still did not seem to understand, or perhaps he didn't hear me, but it took quite a while to verbally communicate the idea that he still owed me 4 chicken strips, a biscuit, and some coleslaw. FINALLY, he turned to his left, carefully opened the box on the counter as though it might explode, and looked over the contents. With a red face he resealed the box and handed it to me, and I was on my way.

I think that is my last trip to Chicken Express for a while

Errand Running

Saturday I ran a few errands, one of which was moving a sum of money from one bank to another bank. You see, my very first bank account was a savings account set up at a Nations Bank located in a grocery store. My Nations Bank account then became Bank of America account when they took over, and such has been the case for as long as I have used that account. I go to the grocery store with the bank inside, fill out my form for deposit or withdrawel, and that is that.

However, on Saturday I arrived in the parking lot and looked at the left hand side of the building and found that the Bank of America logo had vanished, replaced by that of 1st Convenience Bank. "Well that isn't very convenient at all," I muttered. I must emphasize that this was actually audible, such was my shock and dismay. I had no idea when the bank might have been replaced, I haven't been there in a few months so it could have been a while ago. My brain's memory of this area is a bit dated as-is, I had even forgotten the grocery store was no longer an Albertsons, but now a Kroger. I lose track of all the things that happen in my hometown, they are always building new things and changing stuff around.

Actually, I'm not even sure how some of htese places survive. We have so many banks, fast food places, dry cleaners, and car washes - with more springing up all the time - yet you never see any of these things go under. I'm in awe that people have enough money to keep all these things afloat, particularly the banks, you'd think at some point in time people would say "Ok a new bank just opened up, but I really don't need to have an account in a 19th bank"

The rest of my errands were not so exciting, really the whole purpose of my writing the blog was to record the bit about 1st Convenience Bank, I rather enjoy the thought that my first thought upon seeing that was "Well that's not very convenient at all." My journey led me to a new brick & mortor Bank of America where I didn't have to fill out any paperwork, they did what I told htem and gave me a receipt. I was impressed thatthey finally modernized the system a bit. I may go back there next week just to experience the thrill of hassle-less banking once more. Maybe I'll withdraw a quarter or something. Perhaps a dime. I'd like to see the teller's face should I choose to withdraw a penny. They probably have some sort of minimum withdrawel limit I'd imagine. I think when I was a teller you had to at least do a transaction of $5.00, but who knows.

I also got my oil changed and a haircut - my first in two months - both went by without event. Though my haircut going by without event is actually an event in itself. I really enjoyed it because there was no attempt at small-talk, I don't care much for the haircut small-talk at all. I just can't strike up conversations with strangers and would prefer not to retest the theory every time I get my hair cut. But this time went fantastic, no small-talk, and she didn't even comment on how thick my hair was. It is pretty rare that a hairdresser not remark about the thickness of my hair, I was impressed. I need to find more hairdressers of the sort because I feel kind of bad when they obviously want to chat and I'm not a horribly chatty person, particularly if I don't know you and see you on a 2 month basis.

The rest of the weekend went swimmingly, 13 hours of 24 season 2 were watched over the 3 days, I quite enjoyed it.

I Don't Understand Valentine's Day

For the past 23 years of my life, Valentine's Day has passed by me as a non-event. As far back as I can remember, I've not given anybody a Valentine card, and the only gift I've given on such an occasion were a dozen roses one year to my Mom and Grandma. That's it, the extent of my participation in the holiday. I've never had a significant other at this time of year before, so participation or lack there-of in the event has never been an issue which required thought. There simply hasn't been a compelling need.

This year though, I have a Meags, and amazingly enough her Spring Break happens right after Valentine's day which means she will more or less be around just in time to celebrate it. And celebrate it we shall, the current plan is to take a weekend trip to San Antonio the second weekend she is here and that will be our Valentine's day, a week and a half after the actual day. But the thing is, I don't really understand the holiday and WHY we celebrate it. It just doesn't make any sense to me in the least.

Temptations

I'm not sure why, but I've been tempted by a lot of things lately. To clarify, I'm talking consumer items here, and it is mostly Apple's fault.

The IPod Shuffle
They released the iPod Shuffle with express intent of suckering me into the fold. They know I'm a fan of iTunes, they know I love gadgets, and they know the thought of paying a mere $99 or $150 entry fee (Depending on the model) looks like chump change compared to the $300 lb gorilla of an iPod which has been taunting me off and on for the past year and a half or so. The $250 iPod mini hasn't been entirely innocent in its attempts to seduce me either.

The problem is that I really want one for those times that portable entertainment is desired or the times where I want to listen to MP3s away from my computer. But usually if I'm not near my computer it is because I am in my car (which has a MP3 CD player already) or in class (which doesn't take kindly to people listening to music) or in some other social situation where it would not be appropriate. (Out to eat with family, Church, etc) The only times I figure that an iPod would get use out of me are the 10 - 15 minutes I spend walking from my car to class and vice-versa, and on plane rides. I know for a fact that I'll be on a plane to California soon, but past that there is no telling when the next time will be. I wish it was more economically feasible and time-away-from-school permitting to visit Meags in Canada more often, but I know THAT plane ride will unfortunately not be high enough frequency to justify the cost.

Yet the temptation is still there. The mini appeals to my cheap and "I can live with only 4GB" side, the standard iPod appeals to my "Get more bang for your buck" side. And now the Shuffle is on the scene to tempt me further. You see, when I listen to music it is always on shuffle anyways. I don't need a screen to browse through music as I know the songs in my collection by sound and rarely look them up. In other words, the shortcomings of the Shuffle are dangerously non-existant for me. Dangerous for my wallet that is. I don't need one, I want one. I hate you Apple for the conflict which has arisen in my heart thanks to your cheap-ish yet still stylish and easy to use hardware.

During the trip to Best Buy I mentioned in the last blog, I actually went to their portable music player section with the express intent of being tempted by the temptress trio. I knew the shuffle wouldn't be there, but the absense of the standard iPod and iPod mini was a bit of a shock. They only carried the new iPod photo which in no way shape or form tempts me, it is just a frivolous waste of money. I was a bit disappointed by their absense, but it was probably for the best, that was a day in which the chance of impulse buying was dangerously high.

The Mac Mini
The Mac Mini was also deviously designed with the Mike consumer in mind. The thing is just so darn small in size and price that it just tugs at that little heart string that wants to own a mac "just to mess around with." I know that it has very limited upgradeability, I know that I won't get a ton of use out of it, I know that I would mourn the loss of the $500 within the month of the purchase. Yet a piece of me still really wants to own one of these cute, affordible, unobtrusive computers. Thankfully this temptation is considerably less strong than that of the iPod, it is more cost prohibitive and I would use it with far less frequency than the iPod. The only way it would get use with any sort of frequency would be if I used it as a HTPC (Home Theater PC) which would be just silly, I'd be better off converting my XBox for that purpose.

The TiVo
TiVo has never stopped calling out to me since its untimely demise last April. It just sits in the living room, cold and lifeless, reminding me of its former glory. I don't think I would be tempted by TiVo if I had never used one, but unfortunately I have. Not only did I get a good few months of use out of it prior to its electrocution, but I bought my parents a TiVo that same Christmas they had given me one. They liked it so much my mom bought my dad a second TiVo for his birthday so they could have one in the bedroom and one upstairs. Now every time I go home I have a fresh reminder of what could be busy scheduling and recording my viewing whilst I do other things.

The back of my mind keeps telling me that for a mere $99 after rebate, plus a nominal monthly fee or a $300 lifetime fee I can return to former glories. I'm quite wary of the lifetime fee these days though, you never know when the product will have an extremely short lifetime thanks to certain evil repairmen. I never watch TV anymore, partly due to not having an interest in many shows which are on at the moment, partly because I liked viewing TV on my own schedule so much that I don't want to go back.

I think a huge cause of my absense from the TV also stems from Meags. Even when my TiVo first died, I didn't miss it as much as I would have without meeting her. I found myself enjoying conversations so much that the thought of TV and TiVo rarely entered the brain. This is the largest driving reason that I haven't re-aquired a TiVo. Anytime the temptation strikes I remember how little I missed the TiVo when it died due to prefering conversation with her, and how I still spend a huge chunk of my day talking to her, and I know I really don't need one. Actually, my parent's offered to replace it for me as a present for BDay/Christmas OR give me some extra money to help out with visiting Meags, I chose the latter.

The Dell 2001FP
The last consumer temptation that plagues me from time to time as of late is the Dell 2001FP flat panel LCD monitor. These things are just all kinds of nice. They have a great picture, can display at my preferred resolution, (1600x1200) and are more affordable than similar LCD monitors, particularly when combined with Delph-type discount offers. I'm just lucky I have two monitors which work just fine (A 20" flat screen CRT monitor and a 17" LCD which stays at 1024x768 res) or I would be a few hundred dollars poorer right now.

Those are all the pricey, techy, consumer temptations that I can think of which float around in my head from time to time - I'm staying strong and avoiding them for the forseeable future, but only time will tell if I give in!

Title? Where I'm going I don't need titles

This is going to just be a hodgepodge of things, so I figured my non-title title would be appropriate.

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First Up
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First of all, signs of Meags Inextricable Withdrawal Syndrome (MIWS, it spells "SWIM" backwards, what a fun acronym.) have already started cropping up. At least one person has been called an unwarranted "cutie" when I was in the other room, and I'm sure there will be many other innocent victims as I get used to living a life without Meags around me 24/7. That was one of the neat parts about the visit, it wasn't just visiting, it was living with. Sure it was only a short period of time, but still peace of mind is good to know that you are compatible to live with somebody - I can honestly say that thus far none of her home-habits have bothered me.

Anyhow, I miss her and look forward to her coming in February... I look forward to it for two reasons: 1) She'll be here, this is self explanitory 2) I get to completely ignore Valentines day and not get yelled at for doing so! She'll be coming just after it, so all the hiked up prices of this Hallmark Holiday will be deflating once more and we can celebrate its passing on our own time.

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Next Up
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I had the thought not long ago about why I write this blog. I don't really have an answer for it, perhaps one of you that reads this may know, but I sure don't. Honestly I'm not one to seek the spotlight, I prefer lurking in the shadows while pulling strings for others. I don't like sharing my life with others, particularly to others who I don't know well. And yet I still post random things regarding my life here at least once a month, with an increase of frequency as of late. Sure there aren't many deeply personal thoughts here, I still very much keep my guard up, but it is quite out of character all the same. I guess there is some comfort in knowing there are only a handful of people who read this, 90% of which are probably spambots wanting to pollute my blog with offers of viagra, diet pills, and porn. There is also comfort in how anonymous the traffic is, I don't have a clue who reads this thing as they are all just numbers to me. Strings of digits and periods. IP Addresses. The only people I know for sure who read this are the ones that comment on multiple occassions. One of which is a loved one who I share everything with anyway (and who already knows most of the stories posted before they are posted) and the others are people I talk to on MSN and don't mind sharing things with as I consider them friends.

I still can't say why I continue to write though. Perhaps that is why my updates are so sporadic and have such great lengths of time between them (Though as you can see I am making an effort to be better about it!) - I don't have a sense of purpose. There is no drive, no obligation to complete. It is just here.

Will I someday be glad to have recorded my thoughts here? Will I decide to read the goings-on of my 22/23 year old mind? I don't know, I'm assuming I probably won't though.

Do I do it to entertain? Who am I entertaining? I don't even know who my audience is, save for 2 or 3 of them.

Is it therapeutic to "put pen to paper" ? Can't be too therapeutic or I'd do it more often.

Do I do it to improve my writing? Find a style? I don't think so, I don't really have an overarching need to have such a skill. It isn't like I'm a novelist, the most important writing I do is on forum posts where any writing which doesn't substitute numbers for letters and read like a dyslexic monkey wrote it may as well be Shakespeare.

So yeah, no clue. I just do it because it is just here I guess. That and it seems to make people happy when they know I've made an update. I'm not sure if they are so excited once they've read the update, but at least there is initial excitement.

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Next Up
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Tomorrow (actually technically later today) my apartment is being exterminated for free, courtesey of the new owners. This would have come in handy ~7 months ago when my humble abode was overrun with ants, but in the dead of winter I don't really see the point. Oh well, it is free and will likely do at least some good, so I won't complain unless something bad comes of it. Perhaps some day I'll develop some sort of mutant power after accidentally inhaling some extermigation fumes whilst drinking Gatorade. Thus was born the Thirst Avenger.

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Next Up
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About 11 months ago I made a trip to Best Buy which was recorded in this thread, you'll be happy to know that the cashiers haven't gotten any better. Today I bought Curb Your Enthusiasm (Season 3) and presented another American Express Gift Cheque and once again instilled fear in the hearts of high school cashiers looking to participate in the private sector. The story wasn't nearly so eventful as last time, so I suggest you just read the first link again.

Also: I'm liking that particular Best Buy location a lot less these days. The managers must have gotten onto the employees about being more helpful, I can't even browse the DVD section without somebody asking if he can help me find what I want. It isn't like it is hard, the movies are organized by genre and in alphabetical order. Yes I know my ABCs, no I don't need you to sing them with me. I can at least see the point of them asking if I need help while browsing televisions or computers or portable music players. These are items which people are likely to have questions on. "What is HDTV?" "Which of these iPods do I want to buy? The Dell? What do you mean the Dell isn't an iPod?" "My son says I need a computer with lots of Ram but I don't see any ram in here, is there a petting zoo out back perhaps?" etc... But chances are if somebody is browsing the DVD section it is much like in a rental store. They are perusing, looking for deals, looking for something to strike their fancy. If they are looking for something particular and can't find it (Or forgot whether R came before F or not) then they will probably ask an employee if it is in stock of their own volition.

My distaste for salesmen knows no bounds. I know some of them probably are truly trying to be helpful, but honestly I find them intrusive (This is a throwback to the above-mentioned "not sharing my life with strangers") and if I have a question that needs answering or if I need assistence, then I will go and seek them out. Chances are the only time I will ask for help is to remove an item from a glass case which holds it hostage, most other occassions I probably already know all that I need to in order to make an informed buying decision and am just mulling things over in my head.

Old People Rescue Service

Yesterday I was supposed to go back to my apartment so I could start the new semester, but by the time I wanted to be on the road I was felt too tired to make the 3 hour drive. So I did what any sensible sleep-loving individual would do and laid down for a good ol' fashioned nap.

I can not exagerate the wonders of the nap, but that is another topic for another day.

Anyhow, I woke up around 8:30 semi-refreshed, but mentally debating whether I should leave then and get to my apartment around 11:30 - 12:00 or stay the night and wake up early (Say 4 or 5am) to make the drive then. Leaving that night meant ALL night driving of which I'm not a fan, I like to be able to see police though I don't speed more than 5 over and it is less boring when you can see more of the outside world. Plus it would be around 2am Meags Standard Time before I could call her for the night, and that is all sorts of no good when she has classes in the morning. Driving so early still means mostly darkness, but there is more light and I still get to talk to Meags that night so I took Door #2.

Around 9 or 9:30 my mom told me that somebody she had met at the hospital sometime (She has had to take my grandmother who lives in an apartment attached to the house to the hospital a fair number of times and she meets a fair number of people) needed us to pick them up. It was an elderly couple, the old woman was stuck in a wheelchair and the man walked with a cane. Both had been waiting in the cold lobby of the hospital for over 3 hours waiting for a cab that never came. She wasn't positive we needed to go, but within 15 minutes she told me they needed us - good thing I was around I suppose!

I didn't know about the wheelchair, so I wasn't entirely sure why she needed us, but I wasn't going to argue over such a small point. But since I'd already jammed my truck full of clothing and game systems and such I asked her why she wanted me to follow her in the truck when I would be able to fit any other passengers. She told me they had a wheelchair and the thought hadn't occurred to me that a wheelchair could be folded down and put neatly into her trunk.

On the way I called Meags on my cell phone thanks to the handy calling card I so dearly love and let her know what was going on. She pointed out the wheelchair collapsability dilema and I didn't really have an answer as to why my truck was needed if it could be folded into a trunk. Soon I had my answer as I arrived at the hospital though, it wasn't just any wheelchair, it was an electric wheelchair. A heavy one I'd soon discover.

The old couple emerged from the hospital doors with thankfulness lighting their faces. My mom parked alongside the curb and opened the passenger side door, the old woman drove her electric car to the door and with minimal help managed to slide herself right on over. The old man decided to take it upon himself to take the wheelchair over to my truck, with one little problem. The wheelchair was closely surrounded by curb, car, and car door and rather than backing up he decided to try turning the vehicle around right then and there. A few bumps against my mom's car and several polite-as-can-be protestations from my mom kindly offering that "he didn't have to do that, we can get it for him" and he had managed to turn it around. He then shifted gears to become a 10 year old in a bumper car, wheeling it toward my truck and quickly spinning it around in a 360. The guy was quite old, but he knew how to have fun.

The man's fun ended when he got to my truck and he had to get off, a male nurse and I lifted the contraption into the back of my truck, and we were all set for our taxi service to begin operation. I followed my mom as best I could (While I limit my speeding to within 5 miles of the posted limit, she sometimes "forgets" the meaning of the word limit) and managed to make it to the apartment complex without losing her.

The old man got out and disappeared through a locked gate to get the main gate open for our cars to pass through. Finally he succeeded in this task and my mom drove through, I followed her thinking I would have plenty of time before the gate shut.... and I would have had plenty of time if she hadn't decided to take her time in parking the car. I followed her inside the gate when her car stopped and she didn't move, eventuallly the gate began to close. She started parking as it hit the rear of my truck, making a nice black scrape to remind me of the incident. I still don't know why she decided to take forever to park, but I do know that this little rescue mission was becoming hard on the cars.

We got the old woman back in her carriage and were coaxed inside by the couple, they wanted us to wait for the brother or son or whoever it was that was supposed to be there soon. We needed to get out of there though since I needed to be awake in 6 hours or so to make my long journey, so we made the excuse for a quick escape from certain never-ending conversation doom. My mom was sucked in twice more, once because the lady wanted to get her information written in the address book she carried and once to give my mom the old lady's contact information.

While my mom was busied with the old lady the man tried telling me something or other about how grateful they were. It was really hard to understand him as he seemed to be missing most of his teeth and he had what seemed to be a nervous speech impediment, I felt bad that I couldn't offer more of a response than "Yeah" and "No problem, glad to help" but those were the best I could come up with when I could barely decipher what he was saying.

Eventually we were free and on our way back, good deeds for the night done.

A Bit Sad

During the shower mentioned in the last blog entry, I realized how little time I had left with Meags before I needed to head back to Texas. This afternoon at around 1:00, before she had to go to work, I disovered I only had 1 day left. 24 Hours. 1,440 Minutes. 86,400 Seconds. This was it, the home stretch in a race I didn't want to finish, it still feels like I just got here the other day. Christmas wasn't 3 weeks ago, it couldn't have been.

Where does the time go?

I thought more about all this while in the shower. How it seemed I'd only just arrived. How much I wished I could stay longer. How I wished time would slow down for the last 14 hours we would spend together. How even after one application of shampoo my hair seemed to still be in "hat hair" mode. How I was going to miss her.

The shower is a great place to think. You are alone without anybody to bother you, the hot water is relaxing, the ambient sound soothing. Whenever I'm working late night on something that requires a lot of brainpower, I'll usually take at least one shower. Not only does it help wake up the body at 4am, but it helps me absorb whatever information I'd been reading, think about whatever problem I'd been trying to solve, memorize things I'd been trying to memorize. Some of my best ideas have come to me out of the blue while I've been in the shower.

I also thought about how nice it was of Meags' mom to come get me. She lives 3 hours away from Wolfville and it takes another 40 minutes to get from here to Halifax, yet she insisted on driving me to the airport. This is all kinds of great and really appreciated because it saves money on bus or taxi, possibly hotel, and most importantly it allows Meags to say goodbye to me at the airport rather than wayyyy earlier here in Wolfville. If her mom wasn't driving up here to shuttle me around, Meags wouldn't have been able to make it up to Halifax with me. As unnecessary her trip may be, it is appreciated very much thanks to gleening extra hours of time with Meags rather than an anticlimatic goodbye several hours earlier than I actually leave.

The last thing my thoughts focused on were of my grandfather on my dad's side, aka Abuelo which is Spanish for "grandfather." For many years he has had Parkinson's very bad, leaving him disabilitated and in the care of my Abuela. I'm still amazed at how long she has managed to do such a great job of caring for him. She has had a bit of help now and then from family and people she has hired to stop in for a few hours to help care for him, but most of it is done by her.

He was always a great guy when I was growing up, I loved him very much. It is always sad when I've gone to visit them in recent years and had to see how bad he is, and each time he talks less and less... the words that come out harder and harder to understand, and rarely in English anymore. He was actually the catalyst behind my renewed interest in learning Spanish. I wanted to know what he said without my dad translating. I can remember the exact moment I knew I wanted to learn spanish, the 3 of us (Dad, Abuela, and myself) got him out of his chair and helped him shuffle his feet inches at a time towards his bedroom. He stopped, tilted his head toward me, and mumbled something in soft and hard to understand spanish. My heart just about broke when my dad translated it. He said "I wish you didn't have to see me like this."

Recently Abuelo had a stroke and has become even more unresponsive than normal, he won't even eat. They took him to the hospital and put him on an IV, but it doesn't look like he will have much time left. They are moving him to hospice care and soon will take the IV out, he probably won't have too long left when they do. I'm scared and saddened by the thought that I may have to get off one plane from Canada and board another bound for California. Missing Meags and missing Abuelo at the same time, just thinking about it I can feel tears wanting to well up in my eyes, I think that's it for this entry.

Walk Forrest, Walk

Last night, Meags and I watched a couple of movies. The first was Star Wars Episode II, the second Forrest Gump. It has been a while since I've seen either movie, particularly so for Forrest Gump. At any rate, as you well know, Forrest loves to run. He is a simple man with simple needs and having spent his childhood with movement impairing leg braces, the sudden discovery that he could run (and run quickly) led to him running everywhere for a while. After he settled down with his lifelong sweetheart for a while, only to have her leave him, he decided to go for a little run. Then that little run slowly got longer and longer till it became a multi-year ordeal covering several thousand miles across many states. All because he just felt like running and had nothing better to do.

Today I felt like walking.

Happy New Year!

I know it is a bit late to be wishing you a happy new year, but I figured I'd do it all the same. Merry Christmas too, better late than never.

After submitting that previous entry and looking at the posted date I remembered it is now the year 2005. I'm so terrible at remembering to increment years in my head as they pass by, it takes nearly 2 months on average before I get in the habit of writing 2005 without it looking like "20045" or "2004 2005." I need to start getting used to writing 2005.

2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005..... 2005.

I wonder how much ink I've wasted over the course of my life by writing the wrong date, scratching it out, and correcting it. Do you think after 23 years of living I could have saved myself the purchase of one pen? Probably not, but I imagine by the time I'm dead I could have saved myself the purchase of a pen. I know this is of no great importance, but yet I can't help but wonder.

2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2005. 2004. 2005.

Happy New Year, may your new year be filled with less date corrections than the last.

Deep in the Heart of Canada

I have infiltrated the heart of Acadia posing as a student. But not just any student... a Canadian student, eh?

In other words I've borrowed Meags' computer and Acadia's wireless internet and am now typing from the SUB (Student Union Building... of Doom) in the comfort of my own secluded corner. Across the way there is a lady giving out "free" Acadia shirts, they seem to be free only if you don't value your time since she is handing people an application of sorts that takes all the suckers students a few minutes to fill out. I'm half tempted to run over and see if it is for a credit card or a student survey or whatever since I'm too far to overhear anything past her initial pitch to students "If you want a free t-shirt come on over" which is apparently is quite enticing. I've seen people walking by and pass her then turn around upon hearing this siren's sweet call.

This just in: It sounds as if my initial suspcions were correct, a friend of hers who she tried to hit up declared she didn't need another mastercard. If it was a survey I would have been half tempted to go fill one out for fun, Frank Abignale style. I'm actually suprised at her success rate of getting students to get to her table AND sign up. She is nailing over 50% of 'em with potential debt with her tales of untold t-shirt fortune. The ones she loses heave a sigh as they leave, disappointed by the inevitable catch and yearning for a life in which "free" is actually free. Perhaps they could band together, rise up in revolt, and stage a great T-shirt heist whose story would be passed down from generation to generation - or die out after an hour.

But enough of the grinning cheshire cat in red peddling her wares to the unsuspecting student body, it really isn't all that interesting to anybody but the bored imposter-student in the corner of the room. That guy is pretty strange anyway.

Update: The strange guy in the corner would like you all to know that the T-Shirts are no longer there and now spiffy looking collapsable laundry container things are the bounty students seek. Oddly enough I haven't heard a single call out for students to sign up though. Maybe they aren't entirely sure what the contraptions are and are afraid to mislable them.

No sooner did I type that then the siren in red had been replaced by a man in grey whose pitch queries "Hey there, you guys need a free gift?" Perhaps he truly doesn't know what to call them, perhaps he is too lazy. The world may never know, and the world definitely will never care.