Jesus! I bought an Apple TV this morning and setting it up has proven impossible. What the hell do I have to do to get this goddamned thing to work!? I don’t want to take it back because that would mean having to go all the way back to the Apple store in the Eaton Centre, and I hate malls.
My life is so hard. During one of my many emotional breakdowns trying to figure this all out, Larissa called with a break in her schedule and we went for some beer. Just what I needed.
I love Larissa, she’s one of my best friends whom I met over 10 years ago when we were both working in radio. Yeah, you heard that right. She’s now a mother of two beautiful children, so we don’t see each other as much as we used to which means that we have to sneak in every opportunity when we can.
Oy, I’m heading to the Hogtown Vegan for dinner with Michelle tonight. Why should you care? In the meantime I’m resisting the will to throw a brick into my television.
I HATE THIS. First world problems, I know.
Tuna/ rubber/ a little blubber in my igloo/ and I knew you pigtails and all/ girls when they fall/ and they said Marianne killed herself/ and I said not a chance/ don’t you love the girls ladies babes/ old bags who say she was so pretty why/ why why why did she crawl down in the old/ deep ravine
c’mon pigtails girl and all those sailors/ get your bags and hold down won’t you just/ hold down cause Ed/ is watching my every sound/ I said/ they’re watching my every sound
the weasel squeaks faster than a seven day week/ I said Timmy and that purple Monkey/ are all down/ at Bobby’s house/ making themselves pesters and lesters and jesters and my/ traitors of kind/ and I’m just/ having thoughts of Marianne/ she could outrun the fastest slug/ she could/ Marianne/ quickest girl in the frying pan
It’s a year ago today that my friend Chris passed away at the age of 31. The first anniversary of anyone’s death is always hard to deal with.
All I want to say is that I still remember Chris and his huge personality. I desperately wish that he was still here with us. But the universe had other plans, I guess.
Anyway, Chris buddy, wherever you are, I hope you’re well.
I downloaded a new photo filter so I’m testing out the results. Don’t hate me. What do you guys think? Are they too much? I’m probably going to add more photos to this post during the week. Check back.
Keith and me at the cottage
Lisa and me at the cottage
These three ladies and I used to get together on a monthly basis for dinner, but last night was the first time we had seen each other as a group in quite a long time. Life sometimes has a habit of getting in the way. It was nice to catch up.
It was a little strange for me. We met at Centennial College about 8 years ago, since that time they’ve all gone on to have illustrious careers in corporate communications and public relations, while I’ve given up on office life and pursued other avenues. Many, many other avenues.
That’s the funny thing, isn’t it? When you have a class reunion you’re given the opportunity to rank yourself. To determine how successful you are compared to your former classmates. Because I decided to resign myself from the corporate world I had a tinge of regret last night as I listened to my friends talk about their careers.
But in moments like these I’m often reminded about the dangers of comparing yourself to other people. By doing so in times previously, I’ve led myself down the wrong path. It was a reminder to me that I made the right decision to leave my career. I wasn’t happy where I was. The bravest thing we can do in our singular life is create the one we know we deserve.
In spite of all this seriousness we shared a lot of laughs. Bar Hop on King Street West is a pretty cool, fancy place that was booming last night because of the $1 oyster deal. We were surprised that we had to wait over an hour for our table. With the polar vortex’s return we figured that everyone would be home curled up in their comfortable beds.
Guess we were wrong.
The book cover.
Ben Kaplan is a columnist for the National Post who I met many years ago through my friends Lisa and Matt. He’s penned a book entitled Feet, Don’t Fail Me Now with publisher Greystone Books that explains how to train for a marathon in one year.
This evening, at Samuel J. Moore, I attended the impressive book launch and I couldn’t believe the turnout. Jian Ghomeshi was about, though I only caught a glimpse of him as he was leaving with a woman Keith identified as a “harlot”. His words, not mine.
I haven’t read the book, so I can’t really review it yet. But as a runner I am always interested in reading from those with Ben’s experience in the hopes of building my endurance and improving my form.
As an added bonus, in his book, Ben recommends songs to run to from artists like Justin Bieber, Willie Nelson and Dolly Parton, many of whom he has interviewed personally. Awesome.
Here are some photographs from the evening. Buy his book. NOW!
Ben is the guy gesturing to the left of Matt, who’s in the checkered collared shirt.
Lisa arrived straight from her grandfather’s funeral. She was full of insight this evening, which we humbly appreciated.
I look pleased to be there.
Keith entertained the room with stories about the glories of teaching.
Ben is photographed on the left before reading an excerpt from his book. His editor is at the microphone. When Ben spoke his newborn son began crying, which I felt was quite touching.
Goodbye 2013. It was a pretty good year! Tonight I remember my friend Chris Swartz, who died this past February. I miss you man. You’re my Lucy.
Tears on the sleeve of a man/ Don’t wanna be a boy today/ Heard the eternal footman bought himself a bike to race/ and Greg he writes letters and burns his CDs/
They say you were something in those formative years/ Well, hold on to nothing as fast as you can/ Well, still/ pretty good year/ pretty good
Maybe a bright sandy beach/ is gonna bring you back back back/ Maybe not so now you’re off/ You’re gonna see America/ Well let me tell you something about America/ Pretty good year/ pretty good
Some things are melting now/ Some things are melting now
Well hey, what’s it gonna take till my baby’s alright/ What’s it gonna take till my baby’s alright
And Greg he writes letters with his birthday pen/ Sometimes he’s aware that they’re drawing him in/ Lucy was pretty, your best friend agreed/ Well, still/ pretty good year/ pretty good/ pretty good year