Now that winter is on the way, it is inevitable that we head inside a bit more.
And do you know what is indoors? Yup... dance parties.
So if you are feeling the need to spruce up your moves in order to bag that certain hottie that you've had your eye on, then finally, help is here.
Go get'em tigers!
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Is it time to cell my soul?
It is an unassuming Tuesday afternoon, and you are sitting in your new Philosophy class: Introduction to Ethics. The professor has the class in the palm of her hand as she elicits existential questions from deep within your brain. She pauses for a moment to let you think about moral principles, when suddenly an invasive melody springs from the purse of the Nicole-Ritchie-look-alike in the back row.
The air is filled with a synthesized ringing of “Don’t Cha” by the Pussycat Dolls, followed by “yeah, I’m in class right now… I’ll meet you at Starbucks in 20 minutes”. Meanwhile, the whole class has turned to look, the professor has lost her train of thought, and cell-phone girl is applying her lip-gloss as if nothing has happened.
Am I the only person who wants to rip the blonde hair extensions off this girl and force a milkshake down her fake-tan-face so that she’ll have enough calories to comprehend that her cell-phone is completely obnoxious?
This is the ugly side of the cellular era. When owning a portable phone, we suddenly become accessible virtually everywhere - which leaves many people mistakenly thinking that they are somehow important. Talking to your mom or boyfriend does not make you the Dalai Lama.
One reason that cell-phones are problematic is that our culture has yet to establish concrete and appropriate norms when it comes to usage. Is it okay to use a cellular while in a public bathroom? Is it safe to drive and talk? Is it rude to be chatting on a cell-phone while ordering a latte? Is it really that wrong to send a quick text-message while sitting in class? If you have ever wondered if your cellular behaviour is questionable, then chances are it is.
Yet despite my obvious distaste for cellular culture, the time has come for me to consider the benefits of a cellular lifestyle. I am a busy guy with school, work, projects, and relationships to tend to; at times, a cell-phone would simplify communication and overall efficiency. But don’t get me wrong, I have no delusions of grandeur… I realize how highly unimportant I am.
So if I choose to sign my life away to some corporate contract, how do I remain as un-repugnant as possible? Is there some cellular code-of-conduct out there that I can use as a moral beacon? Unfortunately, I am afraid that I will be walking unguided through the mobile maze. But remembering to turn off the cell phone while in a lecture, lab, or tutorial will be a good place to start.
And as for those repeated classroom cell-phone offenders, I think Professors should start implementing stricter cell-phone policy. For example, they could propose that those individuals who have “cellular episodes” in class should be responsible for buying beer for the entire class at the end of the semester. Classmates would be sure to hold the guilty people accountable for their air-headed actions.
I just hope that I won’t be the schmuck buying beer for his class.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Your friendly neighborhood alternative medicine guru at your service...
I thought I would post something a bit lighter today. And everybody loves a personality test! How did they know that I have "complex, deep feelings"? It's like they read straight into my soul...
"This is like totally trippy man" (inserted with a surfer boy accent of course)
Anyway, let me know the deep dark secrets of your personality.
"This is like totally trippy man" (inserted with a surfer boy accent of course)
Anyway, let me know the deep dark secrets of your personality.
| You Are An INFJ |
The Protector You live your life with integrity, originality, vision, and creativity. Independent and stubborn, you rarely stray from your vision - no matter what it is. You are an excellent listener, with almost infinite patience. You have complex, deep feelings, and you take great care to express them. You would make a great photographer, alternative medicine guru, or teacher. |
Sunday, September 17, 2006
To Montrealers...
“Where were you when…?”
This is often the question that surfaces when shocking events strike our lives – when the planes crashed into the twin towers, when the tsunami wrecked havoc on south east Asia, when the London Tube was bombed. What were you doing? How did you find out? What was your reaction? Large-scale events have haunting implications, and many of us are now suddenly connected in a way that we previously were not. If you were in Montreal on the 13th of September 2006, whether you are my friend or if we are strangers, we now share a similar experience. Often we create or maintain these connections through a process of sharing personal accounts and experiences.
If you could be so patient as to grant me a moment to briefly share my story, perhaps you will echo some of the sentiments…
* * *
I was sitting a home, typing up a cheeky article for The Link when my friend called me from Vancouver to make sure that I was okay. At first I was confused, but she quickly informed me about the news that she had heard, and I was on the CBC website within seconds. I was shocked. The first report that I accessed told me that six people were dead, with countless wounded. I immediately thought of my friend who studies nursing at Dawson, and I dialed his cell-phone to check in.
Fuck, no answer.
I turned on the radio, hooked up the dusty TV, and refreshed the news websites every minute to get more information. I wanted to go down to Dawson, but all reports told me to stay away. I felt powerless; there never seemed to be enough information. Finally, an email arrived from my friend telling me that he was okay. He was in the cafeteria when the shootings happened, but managed to hideout in a classroom until police came to assist in an evacuation.
I had a surge of emotion – mostly tears of relief, but also laced with anger that a friend was forced to experience such violence at a close proximity. There was also a knowledge that, despite the fact that my friend was safe, the reality of what had happened was still unchanged.
The day continued with minor news updates and a resonating sense of confusion. Friends and family from different parts of Canada called and emailed to check in, less out of fear that I had been physically harmed, but more to get a sense of the chaos in Montreal. I gave them what information I had – I told them that we were shocked and saddened and would need time to process.
* * *
Days later, I think I am still confused, but much of my anger is beginning to change into forms of compassion and/or sympathy. Like so many of us, I have wondered what could possibly motivate someone to act in such a horrific way. Yet, I am also sad for this young, violent man, who apparently slipped through the cracks of our communal ability to care for one another. I grieve for our disconnected cultural system, a system that often isolates instead of includes. I wonder what our process would look like, as a human race, to be able to prevent such events before they occur.
But before we can analyze, first we must grieve: as individuals, as a student body, as a city, and as a society. I hope we are able to go through this recovery process completely - if we felt fear, then to feel safe again; if we are angry, then a chance to express; if we are confused, then perhaps some frame of resolution. When we have returned to a sense of normalcy, it will be time to be critical about what has occurred.
So as we recover, I hope that you get the chance to share, to tell your story. Where were you when you found out about the shootings? How did you react? What sort of impact will this event have on you? Keep speaking of your truths - and let’s move forward as a system that is connected and that cares for each of its irreplaceable parts.
This is often the question that surfaces when shocking events strike our lives – when the planes crashed into the twin towers, when the tsunami wrecked havoc on south east Asia, when the London Tube was bombed. What were you doing? How did you find out? What was your reaction? Large-scale events have haunting implications, and many of us are now suddenly connected in a way that we previously were not. If you were in Montreal on the 13th of September 2006, whether you are my friend or if we are strangers, we now share a similar experience. Often we create or maintain these connections through a process of sharing personal accounts and experiences.If you could be so patient as to grant me a moment to briefly share my story, perhaps you will echo some of the sentiments…
* * *
I was sitting a home, typing up a cheeky article for The Link when my friend called me from Vancouver to make sure that I was okay. At first I was confused, but she quickly informed me about the news that she had heard, and I was on the CBC website within seconds. I was shocked. The first report that I accessed told me that six people were dead, with countless wounded. I immediately thought of my friend who studies nursing at Dawson, and I dialed his cell-phone to check in.
Fuck, no answer.
I turned on the radio, hooked up the dusty TV, and refreshed the news websites every minute to get more information. I wanted to go down to Dawson, but all reports told me to stay away. I felt powerless; there never seemed to be enough information. Finally, an email arrived from my friend telling me that he was okay. He was in the cafeteria when the shootings happened, but managed to hideout in a classroom until police came to assist in an evacuation.I had a surge of emotion – mostly tears of relief, but also laced with anger that a friend was forced to experience such violence at a close proximity. There was also a knowledge that, despite the fact that my friend was safe, the reality of what had happened was still unchanged.
The day continued with minor news updates and a resonating sense of confusion. Friends and family from different parts of Canada called and emailed to check in, less out of fear that I had been physically harmed, but more to get a sense of the chaos in Montreal. I gave them what information I had – I told them that we were shocked and saddened and would need time to process.
* * *
Days later, I think I am still confused, but much of my anger is beginning to change into forms of compassion and/or sympathy. Like so many of us, I have wondered what could possibly motivate someone to act in such a horrific way. Yet, I am also sad for this young, violent man, who apparently slipped through the cracks of our communal ability to care for one another. I grieve for our disconnected cultural system, a system that often isolates instead of includes. I wonder what our process would look like, as a human race, to be able to prevent such events before they occur.
But before we can analyze, first we must grieve: as individuals, as a student body, as a city, and as a society. I hope we are able to go through this recovery process completely - if we felt fear, then to feel safe again; if we are angry, then a chance to express; if we are confused, then perhaps some frame of resolution. When we have returned to a sense of normalcy, it will be time to be critical about what has occurred.
So as we recover, I hope that you get the chance to share, to tell your story. Where were you when you found out about the shootings? How did you react? What sort of impact will this event have on you? Keep speaking of your truths - and let’s move forward as a system that is connected and that cares for each of its irreplaceable parts.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Graphing the Glory
Sometimes after a time of goodness in our lives, there is a space where we are without direction or orientation. It comes when we return from inspired travels to a dusty apartment, and are unsure what to do next with ourselves; when we graduate, and there are no employers knocking at our doors; when race-day finally arrives, we run as fast as we can, and then wake-up the next morning to sore legs; when the sun has set in an opus of breathtaking colours, and we must find our way back from the beach in the dark. In each of these instances, the goal has been achieved, but what happens next is often unclear.
The time after the glory is fascinating… and potentially scary.
For myself, a linear question that often accompanies reflections of happy times is- must every high point be followed by a low point? In other words, if we are to experience adventure and joy and achievement, is it logical that there will be a slope going back down afterwards? And if so, how do we manage these times?
I ponder these thoughts because I have just had “the summer of my life”. It was incredibly great for many reasons: adventure, romance, education, and the visa bills to prove it all. So according to my motley theory of karmatic emotional equilibrium, I should be experiencing a major mood crash any day now. By the weekend, I should be listening to old-school country music, drinkin’ Jack Daniel’s out of a Dollarama mug, and recounting exaggerated tales of the dog days of summer.
However, mercifully it has yet to happen, and knock on wood, I think that I just might be in the clear. The trick has been to set my eyes on new potential highs and to start climbing towards them. Somehow, for me, knowing that I am building towards a goal or ambition can be as fulfilling as achieving it.
So if you are one of the many people experiencing the pandemic of post-summer depression, leaving you daydreaming in class, staring out the windows, and wondering if afternoons in the park are all but a fading memory. If you are forcing yourself to meander up the mountain, plan a picnic, and squeeze in a siesta, all in a desperate attempt to maintain the fair-weather high that keeps the winter blues at bay… know that you are not alone. I too am avoiding the valley of after-glory lows. But next summer is only a winter away, and it’s never too early to start pondering new projects and thinking about taller mountains to climb.
The time after the glory is fascinating… and potentially scary.
For myself, a linear question that often accompanies reflections of happy times is- must every high point be followed by a low point? In other words, if we are to experience adventure and joy and achievement, is it logical that there will be a slope going back down afterwards? And if so, how do we manage these times?
I ponder these thoughts because I have just had “the summer of my life”. It was incredibly great for many reasons: adventure, romance, education, and the visa bills to prove it all. So according to my motley theory of karmatic emotional equilibrium, I should be experiencing a major mood crash any day now. By the weekend, I should be listening to old-school country music, drinkin’ Jack Daniel’s out of a Dollarama mug, and recounting exaggerated tales of the dog days of summer.
However, mercifully it has yet to happen, and knock on wood, I think that I just might be in the clear. The trick has been to set my eyes on new potential highs and to start climbing towards them. Somehow, for me, knowing that I am building towards a goal or ambition can be as fulfilling as achieving it.
So if you are one of the many people experiencing the pandemic of post-summer depression, leaving you daydreaming in class, staring out the windows, and wondering if afternoons in the park are all but a fading memory. If you are forcing yourself to meander up the mountain, plan a picnic, and squeeze in a siesta, all in a desperate attempt to maintain the fair-weather high that keeps the winter blues at bay… know that you are not alone. I too am avoiding the valley of after-glory lows. But next summer is only a winter away, and it’s never too early to start pondering new projects and thinking about taller mountains to climb.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
beating my best
This morning I rolled myself out of bed at 7am (keeping in mind that it is a Sunday) and headed for the starting line of the 10km race that I had so masochistically enforced upon myself. I am a sucker for self punishment. Actually, now that I've started running races, it has become a continual competition with myself to beat my "PB" (personal best). Each race is a chance to be better, a chance to kick my own ass, and then a chance to gloat about it in my journal.
My PB for the ten kilometer distance was established last year at 42 minutes. Not bad... but I knew I could do better. So this morning, inspired by the tightness of my new retro-knee-high socks, I set out to enter the "thirties". I wanted a score below 40 minutes.
The race was long, with a strong sensation to vomit around the 8km mark, but I managed to keep the bile in my stomach. I entered the Olympic Stadium (the site of the finish line) to the cheers of Tim and Betty-Lou, which inspired me to push harder. Upon rounding the last corner, I saw the clock above the finish line... it read 39 minutes, 45 seconds. So with 100 meters to go, I gave it my all, crossing the line as the clock turned to 40 minutes.
So did I get my below 40 time?
Well I verified my time a couple hours ago, and I am proud to announce that my new PB is 39:59.6... Yeehaw! Yup, I snuck in with 0.4 seconds to spare.
I would like to dedicate my race to irony and individuality. There was a tragic lack of representation of disheveled retro runners with short-shorts, head bands, and tube socks...
If I am going to beat myself, I am going to kick my ass with style.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Success is...
A couple of weeks ago, I went camping by myself to have some time to reflect over the priorities in my life. Although no life-altering epiphanies occured, I did manage to map out the coming months. One committment that I have made is to write regular articles for the university newspaper, The Link.
As you are aware, I love to write and what better way to access more readers than through a free newspaper. So everything that I write for The Link, whether they accept the articles or not, will be posted here.
My first one was accepted... yippee! Here it is.
Welcome back to school, kids. If this is your first semester, then I hope Concordia turns out to be everything that you had expected. If this is your last semester, then I hope it passes with minimal stress, and that you smoothly transition onto whatever awaits you next.
No matter who you are, chances are that you are here at university to prepare yourself for some sort of career or place within the “real world”. Is that not what post-secondary school is all about, to groom us into intellects and capable businessmen, nurses, and scientists? Within the walls of this institution we shall be taught to be “successful” human beings.
But what is success anyway?
For some of us, it will include achieving good grades and graduating at the top of our classes. For others it will be making new friends, balancing a 40-hour workweek with classes, or managing to not vomit after shot-gunning that ninth beer during orientation week. Whatever success is, it will be surely measured in a truly personal way.
Despite previous post-secondary experiences, when I started at Concordia last year, I have to admit that I was somewhat nervous. I received many invitations from the Student Success Center to partake in pre-semester tours, First-Year student seminars, and the “College Student Inventory™” (or CSI for short). It became evident that the folks at the Student Success Center really wanted me to succeed.
I went ahead and did the CSI, half out of a desire to “succeed” and half out of a fear that if I skipped out, then fucked up at school, I would have only myself to blame. Upon completion, I was taken into a small, windowless room with a handful of seemingly delinquent Dawson College kids and advised to prepare myself for the hardships of university. I was in the big leagues now.
Interestingly, one of the recommendations from the CSI was to “Discuss attitude towards school with counselor”. I found this fascinating. According to my CSI results, I had supposed doubts about the value of a post-secondary education. They were absolutely right; the CSI had interrogated me, and I was guilty of a mild case of university apathy.
For myself, the idea of being a “successful” person was not linked to whether or not I completed university. Now don’t get me wrong, I am still here at school, writing papers and buying textbooks. I am investing in a university education because on some level I believe that it will be beneficial to my personal evolution. I also acknowledge that higher grades tend to equate further opportunity down the road. But there are many paths to personal success, and I think it is important to acknowledge that school is a valid choice, but not the only choice.
Ironically, as university has taught me to think critically, I have used these skills to be objective in regards to the very hand that feeds me. So if I could be so audacious as to pass on some unsolicited advice to you, it would be to think about success outside of the classroom. As you rack up the credits, pass countless hours researching in the library, and frantically cram for exams, try to keep a certain perspective. Try to remember that success could simply be the ability to step back and realize one’s worth regardless of the certificates, degrees, or doctorates that we receive at university.
As you are aware, I love to write and what better way to access more readers than through a free newspaper. So everything that I write for The Link, whether they accept the articles or not, will be posted here.
My first one was accepted... yippee! Here it is.
Welcome back to school, kids. If this is your first semester, then I hope Concordia turns out to be everything that you had expected. If this is your last semester, then I hope it passes with minimal stress, and that you smoothly transition onto whatever awaits you next.
No matter who you are, chances are that you are here at university to prepare yourself for some sort of career or place within the “real world”. Is that not what post-secondary school is all about, to groom us into intellects and capable businessmen, nurses, and scientists? Within the walls of this institution we shall be taught to be “successful” human beings.
But what is success anyway?
For some of us, it will include achieving good grades and graduating at the top of our classes. For others it will be making new friends, balancing a 40-hour workweek with classes, or managing to not vomit after shot-gunning that ninth beer during orientation week. Whatever success is, it will be surely measured in a truly personal way.
Despite previous post-secondary experiences, when I started at Concordia last year, I have to admit that I was somewhat nervous. I received many invitations from the Student Success Center to partake in pre-semester tours, First-Year student seminars, and the “College Student Inventory™” (or CSI for short). It became evident that the folks at the Student Success Center really wanted me to succeed.
I went ahead and did the CSI, half out of a desire to “succeed” and half out of a fear that if I skipped out, then fucked up at school, I would have only myself to blame. Upon completion, I was taken into a small, windowless room with a handful of seemingly delinquent Dawson College kids and advised to prepare myself for the hardships of university. I was in the big leagues now.
Interestingly, one of the recommendations from the CSI was to “Discuss attitude towards school with counselor”. I found this fascinating. According to my CSI results, I had supposed doubts about the value of a post-secondary education. They were absolutely right; the CSI had interrogated me, and I was guilty of a mild case of university apathy.
For myself, the idea of being a “successful” person was not linked to whether or not I completed university. Now don’t get me wrong, I am still here at school, writing papers and buying textbooks. I am investing in a university education because on some level I believe that it will be beneficial to my personal evolution. I also acknowledge that higher grades tend to equate further opportunity down the road. But there are many paths to personal success, and I think it is important to acknowledge that school is a valid choice, but not the only choice.
Ironically, as university has taught me to think critically, I have used these skills to be objective in regards to the very hand that feeds me. So if I could be so audacious as to pass on some unsolicited advice to you, it would be to think about success outside of the classroom. As you rack up the credits, pass countless hours researching in the library, and frantically cram for exams, try to keep a certain perspective. Try to remember that success could simply be the ability to step back and realize one’s worth regardless of the certificates, degrees, or doctorates that we receive at university.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
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