December 31, 2004

Ah, yes. The tradition continues: my last entry for the year, where in the hours before heading out into the night, I sit and reflect upon these last three hundred-odd revolutions around the sun. Do I have any answers or any pearls of wisdom to dispense? I suppose that remains to be seen. It's hard to beat what Mr. Brown has to say over there on the left, though.

"It's as hard to see one's self as it is to look backwards without turning around."

- Thoreau

Perspective. I'm often at odds as to whether I have too much, or not enough. Has this year been good? I guess so. Has it been bad? I suppose. I am here now, neither exactly where I intended to be nor in a position I abhor. My life at the moment kind of just is. Taking stock of the world around me and comparing where I am and what I have to those in say, Indonesia, and things look pretty good. Compare myself to folks around here, and you could say I'm doing slightly below average - I'm not beating myself up here, just making an observation. This is my way of pointing out that - although I hate to admit it - I want more. Everybody does, but it is a rather strange conflict to have; logically speaking, how much more comfortable can I be? I have a home, money to feed and entertain myself, time to spend on frivolous endeavours and the opportunity to do basically to do whatever the heck I want to. This is a good situation to be in... so what gives?

"Brighter days, where did they go?
Lord, I'll never see
Brighter days, where did they go?"

- Mofro, Brighter Days

I try to laugh a lot. Most of the time it's pretty easy, but thinking about it in my skewed kind of way, there is a cloud to this silver lining. If I am always laughing and finding joy in all that I do, then what impetus do I have for change? I know, I know, this logic is flawed - that's the joy of expressing fleeting thoughts in something as ponderous as words. I know what I mean, at least. I guess what I'm trying to say is I find myself either having a good time, or am thinking about good times gone by. It's all good, but at times like these it seems as if the solitary non-days far outnumber the hours of laughter and companionship.

Of course, I write this mere hours before going to partake in laughter and companionship, so all this gloom, doom and self-deprecation seems a little ridiculous to me right now. I'm feeling a little fuzzy at the moment, which might explain why things are a little incoherent with a touch of the ramblies at the moment. Still, it's a window into my mind, ain't it. Sit back and enjoy the view, that's what I always say. Besides, I know I'm going to look back at this and laugh someday - most likely in a few days, I reckon.

"Sing Ho! for the life of a Bear!
Sing Ho! for the life of a Bear!
I don't much mind if it rains or snows,
'Cos I've got a lot of honey on my nice new nose,
I don't much care if it snows or thaws,
'Cos I've got a lot of honey on my nice clean paws!
Sing Ho! for a Bear!
Sing Ho! for a Pooh!
And I'll have something in an hour or two!"

- A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Or right now, typed the man who just opened his first of (ostensibly) many beers of the evening. With this beer in hand, a toast: to friends and family, wherever they might be; to the dusk, my favourite part of the day; and though I sleep right through it, to the dawn. To celebration, wine and song; to wondering where I left my keys; to those yet to come and those who are gone. A toast to the women who have shown me love; and a toast to the men who have tried to knock me down.

And enough of that. Any more and I'll be too queasy to go out tonight.

"then I had a drink to Fletcher and
then I had a drink to the
bitch
that bitch with the bad mouth and
the bad ass
and then I drank to the old
man,
this old man,
who'd finally found out
how to be
kind to
himself."

- Charles Bukowski, if you let them kill you, they will

With that, the time has come to roll on out of here. Perhaps not the message of enlightenment and wisdom that I aspired to deliver, so I leave you with the essence of what I learned in 2004: the world will try it's damndest to kick you down and make you suffer, but in the end, she's a sweetheart. It's just tough love.

Or something like that.

December 21, 2004

The fellas working on the building's water mains have taken their labours to the next level. The water supply was shut off this morning at 8AM, and will remain off until 1PM Thursday - apparently they are sending an epoxy sealant throughout the system to close up any pinhole leaks and seepage. I had no idea what this would entail.

I rolled out of bed at 7:30, determined to get in one last shower before these two days of drought. I opened the curtains and saw that a large cargo container had been dropped off right outside the front door, with workers busily unloading all manner of plastic tubing and odd-looking valve mechanisms. "Well, whatever, I thought to myself. "At least they're almost finished." I hopped in the shower, brewed a pot of coffee and ate a quick breakfast. At about 9 o'clock, I decided I'd had enough hanging around, got dressed and packed my bag for a study session at the local coffee shop. Little did I know what awaited me just outside my front door.

Have you seen the movie Brazil? There is a scene in which Sam Lowry's apartment is torn apart by a pair of malevolent heating engineers - ventilation ducts sticking out all over the place, pipes and tubing hanging throughout the apartment, while the two engineers are busily pulling more and more out of the walls and ceiling. This is what the hallways in my building looked like. I could hardly navigate my way downstairs and outside, what with all the equipment in the way. I finally made it to the front door and saw what looked like a massive umbilical running from the contained through the front door and exploding into a web-like tangle of hoses. Very disconcerting, yet somehow kind of fun at the same time.

Passers-by had stopped to take in the chaos; one of the workers was stitting on the front steps next to what I assume was the Master Valve Control Mechanism, a three-foot long contraption with about a dozen red levers along both sides. He was methodically switching them on and off with one hand - seemingly at random - and periodically speaking into a walkie-talkie in his other. "Clear on four, clear on four. How's six look? On six... Mike, you there? Did you want five or nine next?" Surreal.

I'm quite excited to see what they're going to do tomorrow. I'll see if I can't get some pictures of the mayhem for your viewing pleasure.

December 17, 2004

Tonight I am tired, complacent and somewhat disheartened. It is a week until Christmas, I sit at home sipping whiskey and wondering what else the world has in store. I spoke at great length with a lawyer from the Legal Helpline this afternoon, and was told that there is very little I can do about this whole medical benefits fiasco - save sucking it up and forking over the dough. This seems fundamentally flawed to me.

I'm not giving up, though. I refuse to believe that I am responsible for this - I paid once already, goddamnnit, and I'll be damned before I pay a second time. There must be some path of recourse I can undertake. As I sit here steaming mad, I can find no logic behind this system; surely our laws cannot be so poorly thought-out as to leave a gaping hole such as this for so long. If they are, then it is time for change. If these events I relate seem trivial or inconsequential to you, pause a moment and consider that any monies deducted from your paycheque (assuming you are not independently wealthy and reading this, if that is the case, then email me... I have a proposition for you) need not necessarily be directed to the ends you believe. In fact, if you work for an incorporated company, your employers could close their doors and wipe their hands of any repsonsibilities they have to you, the worker. They don't even have to hand over deductions taken towards taxes. Think about that. As an employee, one is not even entitled to ask where these deductions are being allocated - it's all confidential.

I'd like to take a moment here to state that I don't believe my ex-employers had any malicious or fraudulent intent, but merely neglected to adequately consider the results of their actions. Or in other words, I don't think they are unequivocably evil, just grossly incompetent. Whether this is better or worse is open to debate. I certainly don't respect them, either way.

* * *

But let's not dwell on negatives, particularly when I have moved onto my third tumbler of whiskey and can only feel my anger building as I contemplate this topic. I've never been that big on anger - perhaps because I tend to think too much. It's hard to get a good rage going when you can see both sides to a problem.

Who am I kidding? I'm not angry, I'm just bummed out. Seeking solace in a decanter of distilled depressants isn't likely to help, either.

December 13, 2004

Grr. It would seem that Rainbow College's bankruptcy is the 'gift' that just keeps on giving. I received a letter from my dentist informing me that the insurance company servicing Rainbow was unable to honour the claim, as coverage was terminated as of July 31st. According to the dentist's office, that means I am responsible for paying the sum total of all the work that I had done - despite the fact that I had medical benefits deducted from my paycheque right up until the end (mid-September, in case you were wondering). This makes me mad. How is it that I am considered responsible, when the funds taken from me for this coverage were spent elsewhere? Why should I be held accountable for someone else's fraudulent activity?

Upon further inquiry, I found that the whole sitation gets a whole lot messier. Turns out that the insurance company has been trying to get in touch with someone from the college for a couple of months now, as they are trying to claim their final payment (some $1900) - which would thereby enable them to honour payments. It seems they have already received the funding to pay out all remaining claims from the college (including the $1500 that I now 'owe'), but are holding it until all outstanding accounts are settled. Which is not likely to happen, as the college has been dissolved and the owner has declared personal bankruptcy.

Still following me? The insurance company has the money to pay all outstanding claims, but won't until they get their $1900. The owner - responsible for making payment to the insurance company - took our money, didn't make payment, closed the school and is now washing his hands of the whole affair. His case is that the school was incorporated, and therefore he as an individual no longer holds any responsibility and doesn't have to pay anyone anything. So in a nutshell, I and the rest of the staff get to pay for our medical twice. Does this make sense to anyone?

If this tirade seems to ramble, or is a little incoherent, note that I am still making sense of it myself, and am currently rather vexed. However, I am going to make an effort to put it out of my mind for the remainder of the evening and try to lose myself in a good book.

December 9, 2004

Well, I think I've broken my brain. I had the bright idea the other day to head on down to the Vancouver Public Library and take out a couple of books on translating technical Japanese. I know what you're thinking: at least he's making some effort to continue his self-improvement despite being unemployed. Or, you think I'm crazy. Both are completely valid opinions.

Now, I have been making some effort to keep my Japanese language skills alive since my return, have read a couple of novels and have maintained a few relationships with Japanese folks - however, I was completely unprepared for the world of technical Nihongo.

It feels like I haven't learned a goddamn thing - whatever mediocre language skills I have developed are completely useless in the technical translation department. True, the vocabulary I have been studying likely won't ever surface in casual conversation, but it would appear that there is a whole new realm of grammar out there that I have yet to uncover. It's as if I am starting over from scratch... except that I now have the kanji for 'differential equation', 'skew-symmetric matrix' and 'stochastic paper' (whatever the hell that is) down pat. If those aren't worth a few phone numbers, I dont know what is, let me tell you.

Particularly brutal is the fact that after attempting to cram all this new information into my brain for a couple of hours, I can no longer read even basic 'standard' Japanese. Today I had to look up the translation for 'study'. The irony is overwhelming.

ASIDE: Yes, I know that the standard definition of irony is rather different from this particular usage, but I've been hanging out with linguists and as they are so fond of telling me: "Common usage prevails." - even if it is wrong. These are the same people that tell me the expression 'the winningest team' is completely legit. Drives me bonkers.

What it all boils down to is that I find myself wondering what is it that possesses me to fill my head with all sorts of completely inconsequential information. How is it that I have become so completely addicted to the procuring of knowledge that I can no longer determine between the useful and the useless? Why is it that I am completely familiar with the Beaufort scale or know the value of absolute zero, but can't tell you how to make a buck in this town? The amount of information I have stored in my brain is encyclopaedic (if I do say so myself), but I have no idea which bus will take me to where I want to go - we're talking public bus here, not Greyhound... I have all kinds of experience with that. I don't know who the finance minister is, nor do I know how to cook a turkey - yet I know why the sky is blue. It just doesn't make sense.

I know it all depends on one's definition of 'useful'; this term is completely relative, yet somehow I see all sorts of incorrigible fools 'succeeding' everyday, while I find myself counting pennies and eating plain pasta in order to stay alive. What is it that I have missed? What is this piece to the puzzle that has fallen out of my box (no dirty jokes, please)?

I could go on all night, I won't. There's no need to subject you to this - it's a Thursday night, I'm alone, unemployed and suddenly feeling sorry for myself. There's only one remedy: stop writing, have a drink and a smoke, find something else to do. And so I bid you goodnight.

December 7, 2004

So it's been a little while. I've been meaning to write, but - simply put - have lacked the energy and initiative to do so. See, I been working. Just a temporary gig with a landscaping company, a mere two weeks of physical toil in the increasingly unfavourable weather (though it must be said that I'm rather excited to see the local mountains dusted with snow), helping a friend out with a backlog of labour before the end of the gardening season.

Although I would be loath to make a career out of this particular field of work, it has been an enjoyable experience. For the first time in my life, I have been able to quantify my labour. As the newest member of the crew, my duties involved all of the nasty grunt work that no one else wanted to do - meaning I got to do most of the loading and unloading of yard trimmings on to and off of the truck.

Loading consisted of raking up all the detritus onto a tarp, picking it up and slinging it into the back of the truck; unloading at the dump (yep, I've been hanging out at the city dump... I'm all class) entailed shoveling all of the clippings I had just loaded into massive composting piles. The best part was I had to weigh the truck on my way in and out of the dump, and received a dump ticket listing how many kilograms lighter the vehicle was leaving. Any guesses? I got terribly excited upon learning that on my first trip I left 730 kilos of leaves behind. Oh, yes. I moved almost one and a half metric tons in a single day.

Sounds impressive, doesn't it? It happened on a Friday, and that's pretty much all I talked about all weekend. Little did I know that there was more to come. Much more. I unloaded 980kg on Monday, another 970kg on Tuesday, and a final 860kg on Wednesday. Unfortunately, the insurance on the truck expired that very day, so we were forced to dispose of our waste a little more creatively over the next two days - meaning I was unable to determine the exact value of the fruits of my labour. Regardless, I can still claim to have shifted just over 7 metric tons of plant matter over the course of those four days. I feel good about that.

As you can probably guess, most evenings I would get home and be unable to do little more than crack a beer and watch half a movie before passing out from exhaustion. Even the thought of writing (let alone coding HTML) was enough to put me to sleep these past two weeks. Still, you'd think I could crank out something at least one night a week, hence this little explanation.

Otherwise not a whole lot to report. Funny thing about physical labour, you don't get as much pure unadulterated contemplation time as you would expect. Your brain just sort of shifts into autopilot and all cognitive and creative thought is put on the back burner.

I tried to think, mind you, but those moments were the ones where I would catch myself about to sink a potato fork into my shin or lop off one of my more sensitive parts with a chainsaw. The moral of the story is that using tools requires focus, not thought. I quickly came to the realization that the days were going to be little more than a litany of lifting and raking, punctuated by half-hour breaks to eat and swap jokes with the boys... which seems pretty good, now that I see it in writing.