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The media has been busy fear mongering with bird flu and terrorism for the past 8 years and suddenly EVERYBODY PANIC!!!! PIG FLU IS HERE!!! So, nobody knew about this? Go science! You mean the most environmentally unfriendly form of meat is not satisfied with filling our lakes and rivers with liquid shit and clogging arteries, it’s also trying to kill us by sneezing on us?

Also, yesterday there was a show on TV about the 10 most outrageous public bathrooms. What.The.Fuck.

Just exactly how low can we fall?

DON’T YOU DARE DIE!

This is all.

Last night was like spring. The snow melting away, the fresh air making me feel alive, the moon, as a pearl, hanging all the way up there in the clear sky, surrounded by tiny scattered diamonds, the illuminated mountain on whose slopes skiers where gliding. I could almost hear the sound of the skis on the snow even from a mile away.

Last night was like spring, minus the thawing dog poop smell.

I experimentally mixed vanilla soy milk with Saint-James rhum and it actually tastes pretty good. Since this drink needs a name I have decided to call it soy lent white. It’s not people.

I went for my hour walk on this beautiful autumn evening. It is amazing how connected I feel with the universe these days. Looking up at the sky, diving into the cold, dark, yet oddly warm and sparkling infinity as if it were the eyes of an ancient lover, fills me with hope and peace.

Eight months. Eight month without a word. Eight months without a single word. How can you do this to me? Why? What have I done to deserve this silence? Where are you?

WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME? WHEREFORE ART THOU BOXJAM?

This goes for you too, Max Udargo, although it’s only been a few weeks.

Yes, you. A parting gift to you. An enigma, a riddle, a puzzle. Just like you.

Ça fait un boutte kej pense a’t'dire ma façon’d'penser. Kâlisse que ça été l’enfer avec toé des fois. Jem demande si s’en valait l’coup. Autant tu m’as fèt bander, autant tu m’as fèt chier. T’as jamais su’sske tu voulais. Tu té j’amais exkusé pour les vacheries’ktuma fèt, les longs silences, les d’mi-vérités.

J’pense pak té fèt pour le bonheur. T’as l’air de kekun qui va toujour tout fère pourke kekchoze fasse pas l’affère. Tarais’l nirvana en face de toé’k'tul verè mem pâ. Tu’m parlè d’ma kulpabilité d’ex katho pis d’mon gou pour l’martire.

Cé toé qyé fucké man.

Stie’ktétè belle el’matin. Sti’kstè bon baizer avec toé. Tè belles jambes douces autour’dmataille, autour’dmoncou. La façonk’tavais d’bouger entsous’d moé. Tè p’tits cris, tè longs cris, tè dents dans mon cou. Quand tut donnè, tut donnè d’aplomb. Jusse d’y penser j’viens fou.

Cé con mè la seule chose à lakelej’pensede stemps icitte c’est dem tapper ta chatte une darnière fois. Jem sens tellement con d’penser à ça. Tu vaux ben mieux ksa. Mais sa j’tel diré pa. Tu vat’creuser’l'coco a essayer’d comprend’ske cézostie’dparagraf là veule ben dire. Juss’kome moé devant toé. Des heures à essayer d’t'comprend’. Sans jamais réussir. Une estie’dkôlice d’énigme. Une estie’dkôlice d’énigme’à’marde.

Trying is for people who don’t want to succeed. When you really want something you just don’t try, you make an effort.

For example, let’s say a stranger is trying to engage you in a conversation. There are two ways to do this (there are probably more but two will suffice for my purpose).

1- Come up next to you and half heartedly go “Hi”

2- Come up next to you, turning to face you, look at you in the eyes, smile and say “Hi, my name is So and So and I come from Such and Such and I wondered if I could ask you something.”

Now the first way of engaging the conversation doesn’t show any effort. It basically says “hey I’m really bored and have nothing better to do. I figured since you were here I might as well try to pass the time by yapping with the first schmo I came across.”. I don’t know about you, but I find this way a bit insulting. This might only be an indication of how much of a snob I can be.

The second way is more pleasant. The person first introduces herself or himself to you, which is the polite thing to do. He or she might also extend a hand to you, unless he or she were carrying bags or some heavy object. This effort made to engage the conversation would compel me to make an equal if not superior effort. It shows interest,friendliness or need.

What if it’s someone you know, whom you haven’t heard from in a long time? In that case a simple “Hi” might be okay, but it would have to be somewhat enthusiastic and would usually be followed by explanations or reasons about why said person hasn’t given you news in a long time. Then you would do the same.

What If the long time acquaintance says “hi” while looking at the ground and walks away never to talk to you again when you answer “hi” in the same tone?

Now, granted, you may have committed the same crime of no enthusiasm or desire to talk to said person when you answered back. I am often guilty of this, as anyone who knows me will tell you. I’ve never been known for my social aptitudes and since I’ve been raised on “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”, I have a tendency to believe others have too. So I treat them like they treat me even if sometimes it’s the stupidest thing to do. Still, I do not think this justifies walking away. I am ill equipped to even attempt an explanation for this kind of behaviour.

When starting a conversation the principle one should always have in mind is this: “ A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that the balances are correct. ” That’s from Dune. The other book of fiction full of wisdom.

I believe this applies to all forms of communication. Telephone, e-mail, chat, text-messaging. We live in a modern age and should use modern means. Up to a point.

People are obsessed with speed and convenience. I spend my days telling people not to use e-mail as a form of chat. If you want to say something to a coworker, use the phone or walk to his/her cubicle/office. Make an effort. E-mail should be used for letter like, or official communications. It was invented way back then for military and scientists as a means of technical exchange. E-mail is impersonal, cold. It is also dangerously fast. How many times have you hit send without rereading what you wrote and lived to regret it? It happens to me far too often.

I believe personal communication requires some sort of emotional exchange which is lacking in electronic communication. A smiley isn’t enough. On the phone, the tone of voice of the person at the other end will tell you a lot. In person, you can add the information given by body language.

At lunch the other day, a coworker was telling us about her daughter spending six months in Cuba. She’s not a tourist. She lives there with real people and is studying Spanish. She told us how distraught her daughter was at coming back to Canada and having no means of contacting her friends since most of them have no telephone, let alone a computer. She smartly suggested she write down their addresses so she could send them letters. She got a “uh?” from the other end of the line. “Yes, you know, a letter. You write on a piece of paper, stick it in an envelope, write an address on it, stick a stamp on the envelope and put it in the mailbox. The mail isn’t just for bills.”, she replied. Her daughter is 20. She grew up with computers and it never occurred to her that this was a viable means of communication.

This made me realize how fast technology had obliterated simple means to do simple things. This is true even for people like me, who grew up with pencils, pens and typewriters. I actually wrote this with a fountain pen, which explains why this is probably the longest original post I’ve ever made here. Why? Because I wanted it to count. I forgot how pleasant it was to feel the point scratching on the paper. How easily the words flow. How silent the whole process is. No noise from a keyboard. No delete key. No corrector underlining my words with red every time I make a mistake. Just the unstoppable flow of words going from my mind down my shoulder, my arm, my wrist, my hand. No care for structure or form. Mostly unedited. Just the thought of having to type this later on was painful.

Which brings me to the point of this seemingly endless rambling. When you really want to communicate with someone through email, just sit down, pick up a pen and a piece of paper, then write. Just write. You might end up putting the letter in an envelope and mailing it. If you feel you need a speedier delivery, just type it on your computer when you are done. If you are at work and don’t want to attract attention or unwanted questions from curious coworkers, you don’t have to do it in one shot. Drafts can be saved. Do it when you have time. No matter how you do it, make it mean something. Make it count. Effort. It will make a whole lot of difference to the person at the other end.

Alright what the bloody fuck is wrong with this thing? All my stats are gone…

The young couple renting the #7 condo left a week ago. These brilliant individuals shut down the heating system and left the back door wide opened before they left. This morning, after a few days of -30 degrees temperature outside, the pipe under the sink exploded. The condo flooded. Water seeped down to condo #5, then condo #3, then condo #1 where I was peacefully sleeping.  The loud persistent knocking on my door  at 9 am convinced me to get up and get dressed. As I went to the door I heard the water dripping in the kitchen. Fuck. I quickly get a pail and a few pots  and put them where it’s dripping the most. I run up the stairs and meet one panicked lady. I go all the way to #7 and I can hear the water gushing thru the door.  I’m kinda relieved it’s not the roof which is leaking.
I run downstairs to shut off the water main. I get out of my jammies and put on some real clothes, throw a bunch of towels in a corner where there’s about an inch of water. I shut off the electricity just in case. I run upstairs and the gushing has stopped. After many phone calls, including one to the firestation to inquire if they’d bring down the door for us,  the owner’s dad finally shows up but realises he took the wrong set of keys. He calls his wife and she shows up a few minutes later. There’s about 2 inches of water on the floor all over the place. I shut off the water walve  to the condo and I turn the water main back on. He leaves to get a water pumping vacuum and I stay to mop up the water. I manage to do most of it then go down to #5 to see if she needs help and says she’s mostly ok. I go down to #3 and it’s raining in there and the lady is hysterical. We mop up everything and the vacuum arrives and we dry most of the damage. Then I go back down to my condo to see the extent of the damage. Pots and pail are full but most of it has stopped. My floor is squishing. Fuck. It’s going to warp. I mop most of the water out, pull back the oven and fridge. The wood floor is soaked. I empty all my cupboards and fit what I can in the dishwasher. Mop some more. I call my insurance then give the mop and pail back to the lady next door. It’s 1pm and I sit down for breakfast.  Fuck.

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