Photo of the Day

This picture is a typical bus day. You sit with your friends and watch the world blur by. Eventually you reach your destination, run around for a few hours, and then hop back on the bus to watch the same scenery blur backwards all the way back home.

The trip invovled a lot of travelling and so the kids identify with their bus group. I was on Bus #3 (throw it down!) and I loved my kids and the people I worked with. We had a lot of fun together. This particular picture is of Ana and Priskilla. Ana was a bit of a trouble maker to be honest, but one day we had a breakdance fight and everything pretty much was good between us from then on. Aah, breakdance fighting...

A Directed Message

Hiya,

One of my best friends called me today. It made me so happy. He just got back from Israel to visit his girlfriend in Toronto and he decided to call ME first thing. He is an amazing person and I just want to publicly laud him. He was with me on the trip this summer and he really made the summer a whole lot better than I could have imagined. He is a constant source of happiness and laughter, and he is always there to listen.

If you're reading this, and you know who you are, thank you.

That is all.

Photo of the Day

Despite me complaining about how hard it is to be finished with the program, I have to admit it felt pretty good when the 136 kids left. This is a picture of Elana, a great friend, right after the kids left. We were so happy and relieved and freakin tired. I think this is evident from her pose and her comically oversized pants.

After we sent them home, we quickly made our way back to the hotel we were staying at to gather together with our good friend Al (cohol) and bitch about all the stupid kids. It was a great time...so great we did it again the next night.

In addition to celebrating with Al, we also treated ourselves to a home cooked meal, the first in weeks. We all worked together to prepare a lovely pasta dish with two different sauces and TVP (textured vegetable protein, you carnivore). I loved it, and it was a nice closure to the summer.

Sweet & Sour Pork

Guten Tag,

Loneliness update (for all you waiting on the edge of your seats): Last night Lindsey and I went to Sunday Night Improv at TSC and I wasn't planning on performing because I didn't attend workshop or practice in last 2 months. I arrived and immediately Paul greeted me happily and offered me a spot in the show. I was surprised, but I politely declined. Then Lauren, Marc, and John surround me and tell me how much they want, nay, NEED me in the show and I succumb to the pressure. It was so warm and pleasant having an unexpected group of people so excited to see me. I was truly surprised at how happy people were that I had arrived, I didn't realize what an important social group TSC had become for me. It really made me feel good about being home. On top of that, Lindsey has a day off today so we are just chilling the whole day together which is really nice. Because I have been interacting with fun people, its made me feel better about being at home.

At the same time, to be honest, I still miss the experience of MBI very much. I talked to someone that remained in Israel after the program and she told me that they all miss me, and it made me happy and sad at the same time, sort of a bittersweet feeling, sort of a sweet & sour sauce. On top of that I talked to an old friend who did the program last year and she totally validated all my feelings, which was relieving.

I am glad this blog is serving as a vent for my feelings.

I was looking through a lot of my photos from MBI and it turns out that in my effort to conserve space on my teeny little memory card I really lost some resolution. I stored about 170 photos on my little 16 MB card, and many look grainy on my 15" screen. I'm worried that choice will bite me in the ass later when I might choose to print these pictures. I guess 640 x 480 doesn't cut it anymore. Luckily they look good on my blog, so keep in touch to see more photos of the summer in my daily(ish) installment of Photo of the Day!

Photo of the Day

Yo,

This is a nice picture of Carl and Eva, the Boodmans, watching an absolutely spectacular sunrise of top of Mt. Masada. Masada is a very interesting place in Israel. Its packed with mythos. The story goes as such:

The Romans decide to forcefully put down the rebellions of the Jews around 100 AD. A group of extremists, known as the zealots, keep a few strongholds throughout Israel. One of them is an old mountain fortress atop Mt. Masada. Its high up and easily defensible. The Romans arrive and lay siege to the fortress (you can still see the encampments and the siege ramp). After days of fruitless fighting, the zealots decide rather than losing to the evil Roman conquerors, they would rather kill themselves. Thus they drew lots, and one poor family had to murder all the others and then kill themselves (there are still rocks with family names on them).

These zealots are unequivocally seen as national heroes in Israel. Their courage in the face of certain failure is considered admirable. A famous saying in Israel is, "It's good to die for your land." But I find this myth is problematic in modern times. Consider this: a group of extremists, a fringe group to be sure, decides they'd rather die than live under a conquerors control. For their decision they are now praised as martyrs. This is disturbingly similar to the modern day where Israel is "the Romans" and Hamas is "the zealots". Israelis don't like to have their national myths challenged though.

Anyway, its an interesting myth with interesting modern moral repercussions. And this picture is really nice.

Meandering Comments of a Lonely Man

Hola,

Well, after 6 long weeks of constant social interactions, I have to admit that loneliness is hitting me hard. I do live with a wonderful person named Lindsey that I would be happy to spend every minute of my life with, but unfortunately in this case she works at least half the day every day. Thus, I find myself waking up alone and having little to do.

I'm sure things will change as I get back into the groove of being in Montreal, as I start hanging with friends again, as school starts, as improv restarts. I also know its only been one day so far. But in the past day I found myself just lying in bed with nothing to do, living my late afternoon in a half-awake daze, waiting for sweet Lindsey to return (she's the breadwinner).

As I sit by myself, I think of what Habonim Dror (my youth movement) offers me. The social interactions it provides are so special. I am close to those people like no one else, I trust them deeper than the average friend, and they make me very happy. I spent half my summer with Habo people and it was great. The stark change that occurs as I leave that life is shocking and difficult. It makes me think about my life and where I want it to go. I could devote much of my life to Habonim, perhaps becoming the next leader, perhaps making Aliyah and helping Israeli society with other Habos. Pursuing these options would put me in a perpetual Habo society, with great friends always around. Or maybe I'm just romanticizing...I have a tendency to do that. Maybe its not the movement itself, but rather the specific people within it that I care about so freakin much. Maybe I should just adjust my life to include as many of them as possible in the future.

Whatever I choose, I'm glad that I'm making my choices based on my happiness. I feel like a lot of people make life decisions that revolve around other values, perhaps money or comfort or something, I don't know. I try to direct myself to whatever makes me happiest, and its done me well to this point. Maybe when I'm a happy bum living alone in a cardboard box I'll think otherwise, but until that day I'm stickin to my guns.

Well, this entry took a couple unexpected turns. This is the true reason for my blog. As an experiment (re: the blog's title), I am using it to try and discover things I didn't necessarily realize were there. Like in an improv scene, I never know where I will end up. In this case I am pleased with where I have ended up. This particular experiment has been a success.

Photo of the Day

Hey,

I thought that posting some pics over time of the summer would give some idea of my experience. This pic is of 20ish kids at the bottom of a huge sand dune in the middle of the desert spelling out a special message with their bodies. The dunes were awesome, we rolled and ran and surfed until our buttcracks were saturated with sand.

Our Hero Returns

Hello Friends and Lovers,

I have returned to the fair city of Montreal. Instead of being surrounded by Hebrew speaking Ultra-Orthodox Jews, I am now back in my comfort zone of being surrounded by Yiddish speaking Ultra-Orthodox Jews. Aah, home.

Gosh, the past 6 weeks have been pretty packed. I don't even know if a blog is the proper format to explain the events that have transpired. Hmm, quick sum up will do I guess...

It was 136 kids versus 18 adults. We fought bravely, but in the end they won.

But seriously, my summer was filled with yelling at stupid kids, laughing at funny kids, laughing at stupid kids, and playing with new friends. Unfortunately, my new friends are now essentially gone forever. The Israelis that I met were all wonderful people, but I am in Israel very seldom, and when I am in Israel, I almost never have time to travel to see my friends. So after 6 intense weeks of working and living with these peeps, I have unilaterally disengaged my life from theirs.

Its actually quite painful. To temper the pain, I luckily am returning to a wonderful situation of living with the person I love the most and spending copious amounts of time with her. But in the hullaballoo of the ending of such a large program, I have found myself unable to find the time to properly emote. Furthermore, the aforementioned emoting will lose much of its meaning when not shared with those I am emoting for. Sending emails and making phone calls doesn't quite cut it, and moreover I am sucky at that kind of contact.

So was it a good experience: duh. Am I sad its over: double duh. Am I happy to be home: triple duh (you didn't think there was a triple, did you?). These feelings are all fighting one another and I am left confused and hungry. I will now go eat...and thank the Lord it won't be hummus!

A Quick One Whilst I Got Time

Yo People,

I have a little time to post a quickie while I am not quite on my program yet. Now I am in the beautiful Holy Land. Its nice here, nicer than in Montreal. Consider this: Montreal is a very catholic city with many churches, Israel is the Jewish nation...weather in Montreal: 32 and muggy, unbearable; weather in Israel: 32 and dry, wonderful. I guess we know which religion is the right one.

Anyway, on the 10 hour flight over to Israel I was stuck in a middle seat with a broken headphone jack, so no movies. That was sucky. Then I arrived and my parents were an hour and a half late to pick me up, and I had no way of knowing. That was sucky.

Well, I don't know when I'll post again. Until then you'll have to pee and poo yourself in anticipation. Clean yourself up, for Christ's sake!

Photo of the Day

This is a funny photo I found on my hard drive. Its from Dustin's birthday party a couple years back and Sean was sad...as in all photos.

Imrov

Hello,

Do you ever say hello back to me? Do you say it out loud?

Anyway, I did Theatre Ste. Catherine Sunday Night Improv last night. I did fairly well, only surpassed by Marc and Lauren. Marc lost the hat game after a suspenseful third round where Lauren had the foresight to overcome her height disadvantage by making the scene about Marc dancing on his knees. Poor Marc. He'll win one day...

I really love improv. I really like the crowd I end up around (almost all my Montreal friends and acquaintances are improv related). I really enjoy performing it. I really enjoy practicing it. you always end up where you'd never expect. Example: Last night I did a scene that ended with Lauren nibbling on my ear. Who would ever expect to end up there?!

I think it's what I want to do in life. At least I figure I should try it. I don't know if it will lead anywhere. It is obviously very difficult to make it in that business. Also, in order to pursue it, I'd be giving up other potential avenues to explore. Furthermore, I always envisioned myself doing something with my life that helps people. Now, I could try to cop out and say that making people laugh is helping people, but come on, who is going to believe that bullshit? So, the ups are: I love it so much. The downs are: I'd be giving up other big things (e.g. Being the leader of a national youth movement, having ideals). What to do?

Speaking of youth movements, as of tomorrow I am leaving for 6.5 weeks. I will be in Israel. I will be a leader for a summer Israel trip run by my youth movement. It will be fun. I may have the time and energy to write on this silly blog, but likely not. Thus, I am excusing myself for a second prolonged hiatus from writing.

Je m'excuse.

Looking Through The Wall

Wassup,

So I watched The Wall last night. Here is a short review:

I was immediately struck by the opening credits. After showing the title in red graffiti, "Pink Floyd's The Wall", the next credit was, "Created By: Roger Waters". The audacity of Mr. Waters! It is PINK FLOYD'S The Wall, but Roger Waters unabashedly takes all the credit. No wonder the band broke up (aside: Reunion at Live 8!!).

The movie tells the story of a musician named Pink who is totally fucked up and has built a metaphorical wall around himself. Most of the time he sits completely silently staring at nothing, or the TV. He is haunted by memories of his dead father (killed in WWII), his overbearing mother, his strict schoolmasters, and his recent ex-girlfriend, who he also imagines sleeping with another man throughout the movie.

Thats all well and good. Here is my problem with the movie, though. Whoever directed it obviously just learned what "imagery" is. The depiction of Pink laying in a bloody pool almost naked with his arms outstretched doesn't remind one of Jesus or martyrdom, it shoves it in my face and whacks my brain repeatedly with it. The scene where Pink shaves off all his hair (eyebrows and chesthair included) and then repeatedly splashes himself with water just reeks of rebirth and renewal. The constant images of walls being built is a bit unnecessary being that the movie is called The Wall, and three songs are called Another Brick in The Wall.

Basically, the movie was a 90 minute long music video. It was overly artsy, it was jam packed with imagery, and it had music telling the story. When one thinks of long music videos, smiles abound as thoughts of such magnum opi as Michael Jackson's Thriller or even Daft Punk's Da Funk come to mind. Unfortunately, this movie was not in the same vein. It was weird in an altogether displeasing way.

Another striking feature of this movie is that every song from The Wall that is in the movie (not all were there, and there were also some added songs) was changed slightly. Some were sped up, others slowed down, some shortened, some changed instrumentation. It was as if less than 5 years after recording the original album, the band rerecorded the entire thing, but a little off.

To sum up, I will make use of a short anecdote. On a recent road trip to Connecticut, Lindsey and I listened to the album The Wall. As we enjoyed the tunes, she asked me what it all meant. I gave her a rundown of how its about Roger Waters and how his past haunts him and he cuts himself off from everyone. I explained the meaning of Mother and Another Brick in the Wall Pt. II and Comfortably Numb. It made a great story and really added to her listening experience. Fast forward to last night...the movie ends, we look at one another and both agree that my 10 minute explanation of the album was better than the entire movie.

Pink Floyd's The Wall: 1.5/5 fingers up. It gets .5 for the walking hammers.

Final note: Roger Waters is so fucking full of himself!

What the Hell are Bygones?

Hey Blog,

Look, I know I kind of just showed up out of nowhere. I know it was a bit awkward. I should have talked to you beforehand. Its just that I really needed someone to talk to and you were the only person I knew I could count on. I know it was totally insensitive of me to just expect you to listen to my heartwrenching tale of introspection and self respect after not speaking for two months. I know, and for that, I'm sorry.

But can't we just put all that behind us? Let bygones be bygones? I'm ready to start fresh! I'm ready to rekindle our former love. Things may be different, my sweet sweet blog, but change is good.

So, blog...are you ready? Are you ready to jump back on that bandwagon you thought had left you behind so long ago? Are you ready to be written in like the world is reading? Like life itself hangs on every word?!

YEAH!

Self Respect

Hi,

Today I was casually walking the city streets on my way home. I had my iPod on Beastie Boys' Ill Communications (good walking music, I might add).

Anyway, as I approached the corner of Mont-Royal and St. Urbain I saw a bit of a scuffle across the street. Some coked-up looking lady was trying to steal a purse. They fought a bit until the lawful purse owner shoved her off. Then the coked up lady ran barefoot across the busy street to my corner. She ran straight to a woman with a cell phone and grabbed for it. They fought for a moment when another man ran in yelling and tackled her. Then the woman ran off to cause more trouble as multiple onlookers phoned the police.

About a minute later as I was walking away from the scene a realization hit me, and it hit me hard. That woman who was being assaulted for her cell phone was about 2 meters away from me and I just stared. I did nothing. I watched as someone braver than me helped.
Why? Why did I do nothing? I consider myself to be brave, helpful, and right minded; it should have occured to me to assist the assaulted woman, but I didn't. It was as if the music in the background convinced me it wasn't real. As if it was TV, I just sat and watched. I feel so awful. Was I scared? Was I just too slow witted to react? Should I blame society and claim I was just desensitized to the chaotic scene? Was I too much of a priveleged white boy to get my hands dirty helping this poor woman? Why did I just stare?! Why did I do nothing?! Why?!

I don't know what to think. I have lost a lot of self respect today.

Official Curse Words

Howdy,

I have a neat open source IM program called Fire IM, which I suggest you all try because its neat. Anyway, I was searching through the options today and I found a profanity filter. Under this option, there is an Edit List function. Here are some fun ones on the list:

ass boy
bloody hell
buggery
fuckhead
shitcan
shitfit
shitlist
shits
snatch
stuffed

I don't even know what buggery is, perhaps all acts related to being a bugger. And stuffed?

Anyway, I'm glad I could use this space to curse gratuitously. Blogs are fun.

Additional funny anecdote: I was eating some delicious chinese food with Lindsey and we got one fortune cookie for the two of us. Oddly, the fortune was addressed to multiple people:

Our first and last love: self-love

Weird. What's more, Lindsey replied by saying, "I'm glad it didn't say something like, 'Your new apartment will burn down.'" She's so cute.

Generic Post

Hello People!

It turns out that my resume/CV was making me look like a total ignoramus! So now I am revamping it in order to land one of my dream jobs for the two months I'm in Montreal this summer.

List of dream jobs:
1) Scooping ice cream
2) Bussing tables
3) Serving coffee

Wow, my legs are shaking just thinking about the possibilities. I don't know what it is about bussing tables, but I really want to do it! I guess it's just some romanticized notion I have of cleaning up after other people's messes...

I'm really glad all my education is helping me in life. I guess while people are ordering ice cream/coffee I can mentally deconstruct their sentences into their constituent syntactic parts...mmmm, linguistics.

My Dad was excited to tell me that Robin Williams' son studies Linguistics, too. When asked on a late-night talk show what his son will do, Senor Williams replied, "He'll open a sentence repair shop."
When will that coked up supercomic stop being so darn hilarious?!

Meta-Post

Wow,

Two weeks since my last post. I've reached new heights in laziness, people!

So, I'm happy to alert you all to the fact that this post is being created on my NEW(ly acquired) Powerbook G4 667 Mhz 512 MB RAM 15" widescreen w/ Airport and Combo Drive! Cover your children's eyes:

Its pretty fuckin sweet!

And uncover. I am very happy with it. Not that I haven't had my share of first-few-days bugs. One such bug is named Dan Browdy and he spilled an entire glass of water on the computer the day after I got it. Luckily, this bug also happens to be a computer dork extraordinaire that quickly helped to alleviate the moisture problem.

You know what the problem with blogs are? You always feel the need to top yourself. I sit in front of a screen night after night wondering what to write, but I find myself tormented by voices:
"How can you EVER write something better than Circadian Rhythym and Blues?"
"What picture could POSSIBLY be more aesthetically or intellectually stimulating than the rubber chicken pooing a gooey egg?"
But I find myself without an answer to these lingering voices in the dark. Instead I write a meta-post about my issues with posting.

Speaking of meta, this semester has given me a whole new grasp on this uber-trendy prefix, second only to the meta-trendy prefix uber. Taking a logic class and a philosophy of language class taught me all about meta languages and whatnot. Technically, using the language of my post to describe the post itself is inconsistent. And thus by the basic laws of logic, nothing in the post has any meaning.

Duh.

Photo of the Day

I recently took part in a fMRI linguistics experiment. My compensation was $50 and this awesome picture of my brain!
As you can see, my bulbous hippocampus and shapely dorsolateral prefrontal cortex put most to shame. Furthermore, just from this one image, its clear that the entire peri-sylvian area is working 3 to 4 times more efficiently than the average human.
Also, you can see inside my nose!

Photo of the Day

This is a two part picture of a great present that Lindsey got for me on a whim.
And what a whim it was, ladies and gentleman. This is a rubber chicken, yes, but no ordinary rubber chicken.
When you squeeze it, a nasty glob shoots out of its ass and in the middle of the mystery substance lies what seems to be a yoke.
All in all, a very grotesque sight. Which makes it all the more odd that I can't stop playing with it!

Circadian Rhythm and Blues

Hello One and All,

I'm sorry to all my faithful readers that I have been absent the past couple days. Speaking of faithful readers, based on the comments to my blog, the number of readers has reached a whopping: 4!
I couldn't be more excited. I feel just like a little naked girl running through the forest being followed by gnomes that spray cool refreshing water on my bum.

Anyway, my circadian rhythm seems to be off. I wanted to go to bed early last night because I was doing my wake up early and work shtick, but I couldn't sleep until 2 a.m.

For those who may not know, circadian rhythm is defined as:
The "internal body clock" that regulates the (roughly) 24 hour cycle of biological processes in animals and plants. (Wikipedia)

Ok, now that we are all enlightened, on to the mild entertainment! So, I wake up at 6 a.m., the opening time of Second Cup, which is the only place in the entire city I can consistently get work done. Its sad how dependent I am on a major corporation.

I breeze through my essay on criticism of Tarski (which my Prof said had the best title so far, "Lies of the Liar's Paradox"). I breeze through homework #11 for Logic class (taught by the eminent Dirk Schlimm, clearly the best prof name ever). So I find myself done with my work at 8:30 am when I had scheduled work until at least 10.

Great! Now I can go home and get some more sleep! Oooh, no. Its never that easy, is it? I get home, happily plop myself in bed, and lie quietly. Not sleeping, mind you, just lying down...awake.

Dang, I announce. I get up and decide to fiddle with my old desktop computer that I might sell off, only to find its not working. Not just slow or freezing, but rather not booting up/turning on not working. Frig, I proclaim.

(On a more positive sidenote, I deduced what the problem was which made me quite pleased. Still got it, baby! Now it works like a charm. A lucky charm. A purple horseshoe.)

So, 10:15 am rolls around, and I have a seemingly dead computer in my room and I'm running on 4 hours of sleep. Not the best way to start a day. The day slowly progresses and I find myself unable to keep my eyes open during Philosophy of Language, which is usually my most fun class. That was not a joke.

I get home at around 2 p.m., ready for a delicious nap. Delicious like steak and mashed potatoes. I was super tired. But instead of sleeping, I fiddled with my computer for FOUR HOURS! Only then did my body collapse in a sad heap on my bed, drool excitedly slipping out of my mouth. Lindsey popped in briefly and I unintelligibly mumbled a few things before sleeping some more.

My nap ended at 10 p.m. That is not good. I napped from 6 to 10. Thats not a good nap time. It throws everything off. I'll be lucky to get any sleep tonight.

Now its 1 am and I find myself the proverbial white boy in the circadian night club. I have no rhythm.