So I haven't done this in a while. That's no real surprise. I've been a flake when it comes to composing entries on AMM. Truly I'm only living up to the title.

 Every now and again when I stop and take a look back at this site I always find myself surprised that  it still exists. With so few posts and such little traffic, it's hard to imagine why it still persists. Especially considering I don't pay for the webspace, or the URL. Granted, it's not much to look at and there's not much to read, but part of me is proud to know that this little blog exists somewhere. Everyone and their best friend's uncles puppy has a blog of their own so I can't quite explain the pride... I suppose it's just that I made something and put it out into the world.

 From time to time I add a little to it before I forget about it once again. I like that it's limping on without me, and apparently it occasionally garners a hit or two
 (Note: This is not self deprecation, it literally only gets the odd hit or two).

I've recently found myself a single man once again, after repeatedly trying after Everest. That mountain does truly seem insurmountable. But this time around I found a sense of peace with it that I hadn't before. There are no delusions that it is any greater. Those have been put to bed. There is a contentment with knowing that try as you might, it's not what you hoped it might be. I feel that I put in the effort that I could, made what adjustments I could, and it didn't take off. Knowing that I did those things stops me from labeling the experience a failure. It was a search for the truth, what really WOULD happen if we gave it our all? I found the truth. There's comfort in that.

So now what? What the hell am I doing on a Blogspot/Blogger site? What am I writing about?

Well I suppose it's a rebuild phase. Re-define, Re-explore, Refine and Replenish. I feel like I'm searching again, in a state where I can explore all the available avenues and delve into hobbies with manic ambition without fear of letting anyone down, or shutting anyone out.

Part of me is freaking out. I'll be honest, it's a pretty large part. It's clamoring to find someone, to repeat old cycles. To go back to the normal, the comfortable and the easy. I won't make any grand statements about changing my life, that's not my intention. I just want to pause and take things in, to consider what it is I'm after, and then to go for that. Whatever that thing, hobby, person, or action may be.

As always Faithful Few, I thank you for reading. I know this message may fall upon deaf ears and I accept it. This was for me, if you're reading it then I suppose you can share in my self reflection.

-The Absent Minded Man

It's Not News

So it's been a dogs age since I've done anything in the way of updates. I had to fight with blogspot a little just to get my account back up and running (password related issues) but thankfully that's been solved.

I'm not really sure what to say at this point, other than I believe I'll be posting more and hopefully on a somewhat regular basis. I doubt I have readers but I don't particularly care all that much. This space is more of a dumping ground for my brain slush. All those random thoughts and day dreams that slosh around in my head, awash with bits of song lyrics and what not.

I've been doing a little painting. Completed a few small pieces as gifts in the last few months as well as stripped and hand painted a simple longboard. It feels good to be "creating" again and I have a small stack of canvas' waiting to be used. I haven't been doing much in the way of creative writing but I have been doing some interesting reading. Having just finished Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, I've now started in on Ulysses.

Ulysses scares the shit out of me.

That gets its own line.

There's so many editions and despite their claims, none are a "definitive text" as the original manuscript never really existed. Joyce would 'complete' the manuscript, send it off for possible publication, and continue to tinker with it afterwords. He would later send off these newer versions to other potential publishers and so on. As a result, even picking up a copy that I was happy with seemed daunting. I have the Penguin student edition, and it's a fucking bible in length. I'm excited to read it, but scared to start and not finish.

My girlfriend (the 'new' one) pointed out that I'm often scared to just DO things, despite things usually turning out pretty well for me. She said she thought it was because I got hung up on the possibility of failure, and that this inhibited me from even starting things that I wanted to do. She has a point with this, it's somewhat inarguable logic. I get fearful of failure and never begin. Thereby automatically failing. It's a somewhat sobering and depressing notion.

I didn't always used to feel this way, and I have no MAJOR instances in my life where I have failed, so I'm not sure where the insecurity spawns from. But I suppose knowing it about myself, I can try and combat it with hopefully greater ease and success.

Not much more to say for now. I think that I'm going to dig up some of my writing experiments and tinker with them a little, or perhaps just move onto something new. My last semester at school taught me that I can do some pretty damn good writing when inclined to try. I took a beating in late penalties, but the papers themselves were decent, and most of them written either the night or the day before handing them in.

Hopefully my next update will include something creative for reader consumption.

If the traditional sign off still holds any water, I'm not quite sure. But for posterity sake...

Thank you, Faithful Few.
Wouldn't be here without you.

Tales From a Crypt in The West.

Alright alright, I said I'd do it eventually.

Here's a introduction/snippet of a short story I started a while back. I gave it a once over and rewrote a few things and I'm interested in getting some feed back. If you like it, I'll add more. But for now, here's (something close to) the first five pages.

Daryl was on his third whiskey when Casey walked in. He looked up wearily from the table, pulling himself from some darker thoughts to acknowledge his son. Daryl held a half full glass of whiskey in his liver spotted left hand. The glass had a spindly crack running down it's side, and was razor sharp where that crack became a chip on the rim. It was Daryl’s favorite. He thought it mirrored his tormented life. He may be battered but he wasn’t entirely broken, cracked yet mostly whole.
Casey tipped his hat back far on his head, feeling the dust and the grit on it's brim as he pushed his way into the crowded saloon. There was his father, holding onto his weathered whiskey glass. Casey would like to believe it represents strength in the old man, but in his heart he knew otherwise. Daryl clung to that old glass and his nightly drinks as if his life depended on it. Damaged goods, that’s what the piece of shit cracked glass said flatly. Just an old drunk, broken by the years. Damaged goods.
“I thought Bank said he was going to toss that stupid glass.” Casey said pointing. “Didn’t Jim cut his fucking lip open on it just last week?”
Daryl just nodded and Casey sat, sighing. There was almost no point, Casey thought. Damn old man doesn’t want to hear it.
And it was true, Bankey had almost smashed the glass himself after Jim Stokes had stumbled out of the saloon screaming, whiskey searing his bloody slit upper lip. It had been knocked off the bar in some fight or another and Bankey had forgotten to get rid of it. Daryl took a liking to it that day as Jimmy Stoked shrieked and stubled out of the saloon. He shot Bankey a look from his seat at the bar, grunted and extended his hand towards the glass that lay on it's side, blood still on the rim. Reluctantly Bankey handed it over.
So for the last week or so it had been Daryl's, who would roll it back and forth between his palms after he'd finished every drink. Sipping the last of the whiskey, he'd start to roll it back and forth between his large calloused hands, slowly for a minute or two. It was almost as if he were trying to mend the cracked glass, or maybe just wishing the whiskey hadn't run dry. It was a wish that Bankey fulfilled all too frequently. Once Ol' Daryl started rolling that glass it was time for a refill. Maybe that's why he did it, just to let Bankey know he'd run out.
Bankey’s father had willed him the bar when he died. The will was short and consisted of a note that read;

-Don’t piss off the regulars, or ya won’t have none. Bar’s all we got son, don’t fuck it up

Carl

Bankey had taken that advice to heart. Keep the regulars happy, keep um drunk. His own personal motto. It had served him just fine since he got the bar from his dad five years back. So Bankey let Daryl keep the cracked glass. Made the man happy, and in return Daryl drank like it was his day job.
Tonight is gonna be rough, thought Casey. Bastard is already three sheets to the wind, and it’s not even dinner. What the hell are you doing to yourself, don’t you have enough on your plate without climbing into the bottom of every bottle you find? How long has it been since you been a father, or a respectable man with a job to do? A man with a place in the world he needed to be in the morning? How long since you’ve had a reason to come home sober, instead of a sniveling mess?
It seemed like Bankey and Daryl’s drinking buddy George had been carrying him home every night for a month now. But Bankey had his hands full tonight with a bustling saloon and George was no where to be seen. Enough was enough, a line had to be drawn and Casey had come here to draw it. He had hoped to speak with his father before he’d had much to drink. From the glassy look in his fathers eyes, it seemed Casey had already missed that particular window of opportunity.
“Guess I'm too late” Said Casey, thinking aloud.
“What was that?” Daryl said looking up from his drink.
“Nothing dad, just talking to myself. How long have you been here?”
Daryl grunted again. He could feel his body buzzing, thrumming along to his heartbeat. He was riding a good buzz at this point. It was almost enough to block out some of the pain and regret he'd been feeling. Almost. Though it was never enough, So Daryl drank until he was standing up falling down drunk, and even then he couldn’t block out the noises in his head. The crackle of fire, the screaming...flames seemed to crawl into the corner of his vision as the light hit the amber whiskey. He downed the last of the glass and looked at Casey, bleary eyed and red in the face.
As Casey took a moment to steel himself before speaking, he was caught off guard by a flashback to his childhood. He saw himself suddenly much younger, six or seven at the oldest, standing in the shallow end of lake Jakob. Stripped down to just his skivvies. His friends were splashing around a little further out in the water, calling to him. It was March and the water was still a bitter harsh cold. Casey with his thin wiry frame was already trembling. He tried moving his toes in the mud but felt nothing. They had already gone numb. He felt betrayed by his body, couldn’t stop his arms and legs from shaking, his teeth from chattering. He must have stood that way for five minutes or so before he could stand the cat calls of his friends no longer. Cupping his nuts in his hands he ran the rest of the way out into the water. Screaming at the top of his lungs as he went, every hair standing on end.
The hair on his arms rose now, and he shivered as he began.
“You have to stop this dad, you have to come home.”
Daryl sat motionless, taking in his son through bloodshot eyes.
“You can’t keep coming into the bar and drinking yourself into oblivion.” He continued before adding “I wont let you.”
“The hell you wont. It’s my life and I’ll be damned if you’re going to tell me how to live it.” Daryl leaned to his left and spat.
Bankey looked up disapprovingly from behind the bar where we had been polishing glasses, but went back to it without saying a word.


So there you have it! Something small to try. An appetizer to nibble on. If you're still hungry and like what you've read than I'll continue to tack onto this little tale. It has some direction, but I'm not sure how long I will run with it.

It's now or never Faithful Few. Time to speak up and tell me what you think. Honesty is the best policy, if you don't like it then I would love to know why. I might not take every suggestion, but I'll likely take some, and I'd certainly appreciate it if you'd write them.

So cheers for now. I hope to hear from you Faithful Few

-Chase

Proximity

I think it hinges on the environment,

It's interesting, when I left school I had such aspirations for myself. To attend to all of those little creative projects that I never had time or energy to do while I was in university.

Once I got out though, it was another story. I was all work, all day, every day. When I wasn't at work I was busy running all over the city spending time with people. While none of this has changed, it's only now that I've returned to school that I feel the creative energies flowing again.

Absent Minded Man is a prime example of this. I hadn't touched this writing space in ages, but being on campus and in lectures...sitting through tutorials and films...

Well, here I am. It's gotta mean something.

Proximity to an environment that dictates that you think, that you write, and you consider and appreciate. It's a nice feeling to want to work on my own creative en-devours enough that I actually follow through.

I'm taking a serious interest in re-reading the old narratives I was working on last year. There were directional issues for sure. I know how heavily influenced I am by the work of whichever author I'm currently reading too. I see it when I look back at what I've written in the past.

What does everyone always say? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

But to appreciate the work of another, and to go the distance and create something new...well those are much different things.

So while I'm considering revising old pieces there is also the chance that I simply start a new narrative. Tell a new story.

I have some ideas, some characters I've cooked up. Not sure what I can do to bring them to the page. I'm scared that I'm wasting perfectly good characters before I know what the hell I'm doing. Don't want to try and breath life into them and fall flat on my face, only to hang my head and walk away.

I mentioned a long time ago that perhaps I'd post some of my other work. I think that if the revision process goes then I may be able to tie up a few loose ends and post the short stories.

Depends entirely on my satisfaction with the end product. So we'll see.

Faithful Few, who am I without you?

We're like Animals, We play pretend.

So guess who's back in the damn saddle? You're looking at him.

This blog has always been centric to my struggles surrounding school and specifically the life I lead in Toronto. There's lots that goes on in my hometown that simply never makes it online. I've been busy working my ass off (6 days a week) for the entirety of the summer, and juggling the social life I'm known for...albeit poorly.

Sadly - Skating has fallen by the wayside, parkour even more so. It's not something I took time in the day to do. I still had a tendency to vault railings, or to skate to and from a bus, but I'd be selling myself short if I thought that cut it.

Women came and went. Again. Where's that stability we all strive for? Hell if I know.

But work was getting to me, grinding on me. It's okay, I had some bills to pay and I pushed through it, payed off all the school debt and what not.

One day the boss walked in and said "So when's your last day?", Despite the fact that we'd discussed that my attempts to get into university in British Columbia had fallen short. It seems he'd forgotten. I could tell it would be a struggle for him to keep me on the schedule in any significant way. He asked me what my plans were for September, and to let him know what I was doing.

I walked into his office a moment later and told him I was done. Book me to the end of the month and I'm out of here.

I had a week off, maybe two. My grandfather passed and I went north to spend time with family. I was a pallbearer in his funeral, I miss his smile and his presence heavily.

I decided on a whim to try and get some night classes in at U of T. Phoned the school and quickly discovered there was no "night school" program. I had to enroll like everyone else, and guess what champ? The last day of enrollment is tomorrow, so move your ass.

And move my ass I did. Enrolling and getting into classes that I had absolutely no right slipping into. People had been signed up for courses for a month, how I got into them overnight...I'll never know.

Now I have a minor in film (of sorts) taking my academic life by storm. I chose not to try and get another apartment. There was too much stress and money involved with it, and in many ways I did it before to run away. I think that's the first I've admitted it to myself actually...I moved so that I could run. I had some hurt that was a little too close to home, and I couldn't stand the proximity.

That comes and goes I suppose. I have a new tool of escape. I bought a car. Just a domestic four-banger, but it gets me where I need to be. Sometimes that's just anywhere but where I am.

I'm conflicted now. I really want to get in my car and go very very far away. But I'm not sure it's healthy.

Up to my neck again...Never seems to take TOO long to get here does it?

A friend of mine said "It's only up from here"...maybe they're right. Could do.

Here's my shameless unrelated plug, the other creative endeavor that's been eating my time is called Stealth Geek Unlimited. It's a podcast I throw together with my brother and a friend, give us a listen at;
www.StealthGeekUnlimited.com

Faithful few, who the hell are you?

...and the doctor screamed "1.21 JIGGA WATTS"

Yack Yack Yack,

I want to talk about everything that's been going on. The problem being the topics at hand are incredibly all consuming and have been discussed by myself to such an extent in real life that I'm tired of thinking about them.

A couple of things briefly,

I'm not as poor as I once was. A few decent paycheques and some government tax money has lessened my overwhelming debt. I'm still talking to my lawyer in regards to the accident I had last year, so there might be some progress there as well.

I barely live at home these day. I'm so caught up in other things, on the run constantly, and I'm wearing myself down.

Death sucks, heartache sucks, work sucks... I keep thinking "I want to go home" but "Home" is some idealistic metaphoric conceptual thing...Must be, because my house isn't really where I'd like to be.

I feel like debbie downer today.

I'll live, please don't feel the need to add pitying, comforting, or supportive comments. I'm not looking for feedback today, just ranting. Letting these fingers go for a stroll and seeing what happens. It's like my head's too full to rationalize my thoughts, all of the excess just leaks and seeps out slowly until I can contain it again. Blah Blah Blah, what you thought you knew yesterday has been subverted today. Your shock at the facts that things are changing and perhaps not for the better, is a silly thing. You know things will never level out for long. You can't always be laid back, as hard as you might try. Sometimes your backs to the wall and your head hurts and every fiber of your being just screams RUN LIKE HELL.

You can't run. Don't have the guts or the money or the will power. Have to make the best of what you have.

Sometimes there's nothing you can do and it's out of your hands.

-Absent Minded Man.

Bombings

Welcome Back Faithful Few,

As always it's been too long. I get too busy living my life to write about it, or so it seems. Anyways there's some fairly big news on my end, thought I should share.

First things first, my ambitions to go out west have been squashed (though for how long I can't really say) UBC declined my application to their Creative Writing course. My GPA also bites the big one, so I didn't get my back up acceptance to their English course either.

You have to understand that I REALLY disliked the last year I spent at U of T. I was failing in spectacular fashion too, until I thought it through and realized how much it was costing me. So instead of flushing my money down the toilet I decided to buckle down and save my own ass. Which I did. So I was in good standing with U of T, but my GPA was nothing special, to be sure.

SO, it looks like the only university that will take me back is the one I so desperately fled. Somebody upstairs hates me just a little, feels like.

Anyways, if you've been following AMM, you'll have known most of this story. My thoughts are either to do another year at U of T in English so I can up my GPA and transfer out, take summer classes to do the same thing instead of an entire year, or go back but switch subjects entirely. Thoughts or advice folks? I'm as lost as you are.

In other news:

I might be joining the PodCast known as The Stealth Geek. It seems fitting for a guy like me. My brother was a founder of TSG versions 1.0 and 2.0, and this new rendition is will likely go by: The Stealth Geek Unlimited.

I'll let you know if that gets off the ground.

Back to writing for a moment. I have all this short story prep work I did for UBC that now has no outlet. Anyone care to read this stuff? I can post it in pieces, perhaps turn it into an ongoing serial. There's about 30 pages of revised NaNoWriMo work that have become one story, and another related short story that could also be of interest.

Comment and let me know if it interests you.

As many of you know, my life outside the computer often consists of a hectic social life, and a hell of a lot of skateboarding.

Recently I discovered the best outdoor concrete pool in all of Ontario. It's right beside my work and I've been skating every day on lunch. Riding vert transition and bowls/pools is new to me, but it's coming along nicely. I think I'll break out the camera/camcorder soon and shoot some footage. A Shout Out to Vincenzo Pistritto of Pipe Dream Photography for buying me an HD Camcorder. I hope to put it to use soon my friend, and I own you a pint and a few rounds of darts. I haven't forgotten.


Every here that song The Boss is Coming? Well, cue that, I gotta roll.

Thanks Faithful Few

Mr. Inconsistencies

Lets play catch up shall we?

So I told you I'd follow up on all those topics I mentioned? Here it goes.

Finding Rage:

No I haven't suddenly gone off the deep-end and found my inner Hulk. I've always thought the line "You wont like me when I'm angry" was pretty bad ass, but I don't think it applies just now. No, what I'm referring to, my faithful friends, is Richard Bachman's Rage. Most of you know by now that I'm a pretty massive Stephen King fan. I'm not sure if I've ever really explained why though. You would assume I enjoy horror right? Fear, macabre, things that go bump in the night? Nope, not really. I don't scare easily, I'm not afraid of the dark, and I don't find Kings books 'Grip me with fear'.

What I like the most about his work, is his uncanny ability to write characters, even if those characters turn out to be really Really REALLY fucked up people. What matters is how believable they are. His use of language is especially intoxicating. All of his characters seem to speak as individuals with their own voices, people you could imagine meeting on the street. It's oh so easy to forget that behind it all is one man, one man with MANY voices, pulling all the strings, creating a story.

Stephen Kings earliest work didn't win him any acclaim, hell they didn't even get published (initially). But eventually he dug out those manuscripts he had, and put them out under the Pseudonym of Richard Bachman. I won't get into WHY he did it, that's a story in and of itself, but they published in fairly small print runs, straight to paperback and didn't make much of a impact in the horror market until it was publicized that Bachman was actually King.

Of the four novels originally published as Bachman, I now own three in first edition paperback. The rarest, most prized, and most valuable of the four is by far Rage I recently found a copy in a used book store for a unspeakably cheap $5. Suffice to say I damn near tripped over myself buying it, and even the clerk commented on how he was surprised that it made it to the shelf. I suppose another co-worker with less knowledge on the subject let it slip through the cracks. Their loss is my gain, and I couldn't be happier.

Mind Games - Rubik's Cubes

Recently I've been intrigued by the oh-so retro Rubik's Cube. I can't really explain why, but I think I have a co-worker to blame. I remember having one as a child and never really getting a handle on it. It got junked I think, mystically finding it's way to the trash or a Goodwill. It's funny how those not so loved childhood toys seem to vanish. Was it our parents that took it upon themselves to weed out the toys we didn't love and toss them? or were we so ruthless as children that we actually ditched these things ourselves?

Anywho, I'm learning how to solve the classic 3x3 Rubik's Cube. I've solved it a few times now after learning how on the wonderful interwebs. Alas I still need to consult a walk through when I get close to the end of solving a cube. Hopefully I can learn the tricks and twists and commit them to memory.

Solving a Rubik's Cube, like juggling, is just one of those things I always wanted to put under my belt.

Oh These Sinking Relation-Ships

You know, this is the subject I felt I had the most to say about. Now that I'm here, I don't know how to get it all out there. I had envisioned something witty and satirical, poignant and perhaps a little bitter.

Recently I've been pretty disenchanted with Relationships. Not love so to speak, but relationships and how they operate. I've been witness to SO many poorly built, carelessly maintained, emotionally stunted relationships, that I was beginning to doubt their validity. In many cases they did seem like sinking ships, being bailed out by one party or the other. While their partners just laid on the bullshit, emotional blackmail, and general douche-baggery.

What I like least I think is how people seem to let their partners ride. I'm all for forgiveness and second chances, miscommunication is of course bound to happen and working through it can be a great learning and connecting experience. But when one person in a relationship feels they can control, manipulate, or otherwise manhandle their partner, then I start to get royally pissed off.

What's worst is that in most cases this only works because of the closeness of the two. Anyone with an outsiders perspective can see these huge glaring problems, the repeated emotional blackmail and jerk moves are often clear to everyone but the only person they need to be.

I've been blessed in my life to have dated only very open minded understanding women, and I plan on keeping that streak alive. I just hate to see really REALLY good people tied down to mediocre if not down right crappy ones. But I suppose even assholes get to date right?

Interlude

The next two categories tie together so I'll keep it short.
If you're still reading this then I applaud you. My blog truly is my minds dumping ground, so if this all interests you, then I'm surprised and glad. I do try and keep it entertaining, but I also know that what I care about is not what others may care about, so it'd be interesting to see what 'hits' and what 'misses'. This is what the comments are for! Help me out and give me some feedback will ya?

Moving right along...

Writers Vacations, Motivations, and Deadlines + Skipping Town

So I applied at UBC, and for those not in the know that's the University of British Columbia. I applied for a Bachelor of Fine Arts with a major in Creative Writing. Where the writing and deadlines come into play is a result of part of the application.

I have to submit a few written pieces along with a cover letter to attempt to get accepted to this very wonderful, very very tiny program. How tiny you ask? Well there are only about fifty students in the course. Apparently each year they receive something like 60-75 applicants and they only take 20 or 25.

Already the odds are stacked against me, my GPA at U of T wasn't all that and a bag of chips. Hell it was hardly even the bag of chips...but if you've been following along you'll know that I've managed to pass 95% of the classes I've taken, so hopefully the fact that I was in "good standing" will carry me off to UBC.

I'll have to write another letter trying to get exempt from a second year course that's a pre-requisite for the degree, but I suppose that if I don't get into the creative writing course first try I could always do a year of English, get the pre-requisite course, and apply again next year. What the hell, it only costs about $17'000 a year to go to school out there, what's one more year?

Hundred Hour Pay Periods

Pretty self explanatory I should hope, we're implementing a new program at work (Microsoft Dynamics, for those who might care) and I've been brought back in as a full timer. On some weeks I even work a heart wrenching 6 days out of 7. The upside to all this work is the big money pay cheques.

I regret to inform that my head has been up my ass however, and I've been spending far too much. Home Work Assignment - Remind me to knock that off alright?

Eat Me Some Sushi

So I've never been terribly adventurous with my food. Oh I'm not against trying new things, I just don't often find new things that I wholly enjoy when it comes to the dinner table.

Recently I was invited out for Sushi with some friends at a place in downtown Toronto called, appropriately enough, Sushi Island. We had a great big all out can eat affair and I scarfed down all kinds of foods I'd never had before. Much to my surprise and overall joy, I really REALLY liked almost everything I tried.

Since then I've been out to have Sushi right here in Pickering, and while it wasn't quite as good, it certainly hit the spot.

Who knew right?

Ah yes, we come to the end. Up for a bonus topic? cause I got one more in me

Bands of Note


So I told you all last time out about my friend Zach's wicked band Savanah? Well they're playing a show this week in Toronto's Kensington Market. The venue is a club called The Boat, and they're playing on Tuesday night. Suffice it to say that I'm stoked, and plan on heading out to hear some of their new material.

In related news one of my other brothers had an opening show on this very night. Family excluded, this dude snags the title of longest standing friend, and one of the very best of the best. I'm referring of course, to one mr. "Down Town, Evan Brown". His band Artifice had their first ever live show in London, and while I couldn't be there to cheer him and his band on, I hope he knows I was there in spirit.

Cheers boys, here's to the many more shows to come.

Lastly I want to say thank God for Vampire Weekend's first album (self titled), it's gotten me through about two weeks of shitty weather and sleep deprived days. A special shout out to my friend Ash for introducing me. If you're a fan of Bedouin Sound Clash and The Shins, then I highly suggest you give this album a spin.

If you can't find the disc, try giving it a listen over on http://www.grooveshark.com

If you're still with me then I want to say Thank You. I write mostly for myself, I'll admit it, but if it wasn't for you then I would never put myself out there like I do here on Absent Minded Man.

Cheers.

Tired On Time.

For once in my life I'm tired on time.

This means once I crawl into bed, read for a half hour or so, I'll be lined up to get five maybe six hours of sleep. Not too shabby compared to my normal three.

This isn't so much a new post talking about the things I want discuss as it is a reminder to myself. I have things on my mind I don't want to forget to talk about so here's the shopping list:

Finding Rage
Mind Games - Rubix Cubes
Oh The Sinking Relation-Ships
Writers Vacations, Motivations, and Deadlines
Skipping Town
Hundred Hour Pay Periods
Eat Me Some Sushi

I'll get to these, keep looking back.

Thanks FF

Misty days, caught in the rain.

First things first faithful few

Misty <-- Open in new tab to hear awesome while you read.

If you haven't yet, go listen to this track, it's A) fucking awesome, and B) hopefully a taste of what is to come.

It's my brothers band, they reunited not too long ago and are talking about doing some recordings (EP, LP, not sure yet)

He used to play this in my living room all the time and his vocals soared. We had thin walls and I could hear this throughout my entire tiny place. This is the soundtrack to the best memories I have in my apartment in Toronto. I hear this, on a sunny day, and I miss it so much it almost hurts.

I want to go skating, I want to go filming, I want to strap gloves to my hands, throw a board under my feet and duck and weave my way through an unsuspecting pedestrian population. I want to tuck and bomb hills, screaming past cyclists and cars. Do you have any idea how fast it feels to be moving 40 or 50 Kph when you're standing on a piece of wood attached to wheels?

I want to do Parkour, to sprint into a world of concrete with a shit eating grin and take it by force. To move with ease up and over stone walls and railings, to free fall and roll and never lose momentum. Heart racing and entirely calm in my mind.

I want the weather to change, the scenery to change, and the city to be my home. I want to be moving at a million miles an hour.

I want to be in school...I want to meet new people. Sitting on my ass in Pickering is not my aspiration.

All of these things I want, but I have to live up to my name and go after them. The weather will change without me, the longboarding and Parkour will come with ease. Progress will not come without time and effort though. The school and city living will take more work, but it's not impossible. This is the nexus in which I stand. What do I have to do to make it all align again, to get it back, to make it better than it ever was?

I'm serious that when ever I find myself still, and my mind starts to drift, I picture myself sprinting. I never know what I'm running from, or where I'm running to, but I recognize it's a internal cry for freedom. Stop sitting on your ass my body screams,
GO DO SOMETHING.

Internally I'm all a jumble, but things are sorting themselves out. One wake up call after another and you start to make progress.

One more time to kill the pain.

Sometimes you need wake up calls from those close to you. Those insightful few who can see through the bullshit and call it like it is. To those of you that can, to those of you that do, and to you faithful few...

I give you, Tom Petty's - Last Dance with Mary Jane.

Reading, Verticle Elation, Hibernation. Oh and One Disease Please!

I have a disease, but we'll get back to that.

So I've been Jonesing for alone time these days. Social overload over the holidays was fun, and I'm still captain social by most peoples standards, but I'm putting the car in neutral and not seeking my way out into the social world as much these days. It's nice to stay in, and catch up on things like reading.

This week alone I've gone through over a thousand pages, it feels good to meet small personal goals. Most people will never be able to make a statement like that. Now don't start into how fast you've read Harry Potter, LOTR, or god forbid anything that has anything to do with Twilight. In fact, if you're obsessed with Twilight you can get the hell off my webspace. Do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars, get the hell out of here. Take your (and I quote) over indulgent poorly written fan fiction with you.

HP and LoTR are cultural phenomenons, they almost don't count. I'm not bashing them, I own and have read all of the books aforementioned (except Twilight, NO FUCKING TWILIGHT GOD DAMN IT!). But I consider myself a Bibliophile and it's nice to do some solid reading and put a few books under my belt in the span of a week.

Brent Weeks, Orson Scott Card, I applaud you gentlemen for entertaining me and robbing me of sleep. You're both at fault for my zombie-esque appearances at work and for sleeping my days off away.

I'm finally going back to my training. Crawling back into a gymnastic gym environment to start throwing myself around again. The feeling of being inverted 10+ feet above the ground is addictive. I've needed to scratch that particular itch for a while now. I have more personal goals to meet here. Standing back tucks, Arabian flips, back hand springs, etc. I have the support of a long time friend who teaches at the gym, hopefully she can help me master some of these goals. Mostly it amounts to me putting in the time and effort. I know I'm physically able, and repeated attempts to learn these moves will only help my muscles along and build the muscle memory needed to make them second nature. I'm really looking forward to that.

As for my disease, it's nothing major, but it is incurable so far as I know. I have Raynauds Disease (sometimes called Raynauds Syndrome). Essentially I can have strange physical reactions to emotions, and from the cold. My fingers swell, my feet start to tingle, and itch, I can have hive like break outs. This is something I only discovered this winter, but it keeps happening, and it's pretty fucking annoying to boot. I shoveled my drive way the other after noon and came inside to find out I had big stiff feeling sausage fingers. I made a fist and it felt like I was wearing those over-sized "Hulk Smash" gloves. Weird to say the least, but not that big of a deal in the long run.

It appears that people do occasionally read my blog, so as always I say

Thank you, Faithful Few.

Cheers.

When.

When your ring finger's itchy
Body wont sit still
Impatient mind and a sketchy will
Careless coercion
Squandered time
Can't seem to place what you never could find
Your call isn't calling
On these memory free days
But you're stumbling onward
Got bills to pay.

Happy New Year

So it's 2010,

That's cool right? Yeah. I've been working nights recently, socially anyways. The plan for the last week has been stay out until 6 am ish, come home, sleep until about 4pm, rinse and repeat.

I should recap the weeks worth of events...or you know, the last month or two. I've sort of ditched the effort to blog. Maybe it had something to do with having an audience that consists mostly of my friend Alex (god bless his cotton socks).

I'll get back here shortly to actually fill you in on my musings and activities. But right now I'm awake and it's only quarter to two pm. I should be asleep for another two hours or so, so my body hates me.

I'm off to little Britain for the day,

Cheers Alex

If there are more of you...I don't know, write me or something and I'll give you a shout out.

I'm tired, But I have a novel in the works.

It's late, I should be sleeping. Trust me, I plan on it. I have to be up in just about three hours to drag my sorry carcass off to work.

This place certainly needed an update though, and I need to start keeping on top of it. If I ever want to be recognized as...someone who procrastinates less, consistency is going to be key.

Which is exactly why I'm taking part in NaNoWriMo. Which if you have NO idea what it is, stands for National Novel Writing Month. You can check it out here: http://www.NaNoWriMo.org

You can look me up on the site and track my word count, user name is Chromizone.

The goal is to write a 50'000 word novel in a month. Which averages out to about 1667 words a day. I missed the first day of the month so I have to write 1723 a day to make up for it. I've only just started but am plugging along steadily and excited to see how it turns out.

Keep your fingers crossed for me faithful few?

Cheers

Seeya later U of T.

So I up and quit school, crazy right?

Well, I really wasn't happy with my life. I didn't like how much of my time and money was going to an education that I didn't enjoy, and that hardly interested me. SO I spoke with an academic adviser to look at other majors and degree choices, turns out U of T offers almost nothing hands on, and their creative writing and film courses were all critical analysis and what not, there was very little "creation" that actually happened.

So I made the big call, took a deep breath and walked away from U of T. Which means that I have 2 years worth of credits earned, and if I ever want to finish the degree I was chasing I can always come back, none of what I spent my money on was lost really.

I couldn't stand the idea that I was only writing a few essays a year coupled with exams, and had nothing tangible to show for my efforts.

So I want to do something creative with my life and I'm looking into other school that will let me do just that.

I got a nice chunk of change back from the school because I dropped out fairly early in the year, and I have my accident settlement coming up this Thursday, so I'm hacking away at my debt too, which is always nice.

Since I've quit I've already started drawing again, started doing parkour again, and spent hours longboarding...I think this is the best decision I've ever made.

Means I'll likely work more (4 days a week?) and apply for start of next semester or next year depending on the school.

I can at least say life has been interesting of late. There's always that.

Thanks for reading faithful few.

I'll talk with you soon.

Cheers

I'm not dead, I'm not dead, I'm not dead...

Oh! I'm alive!

It could happen, right? So I told you last time I'd come back with cool stuff to show you and whatever...and then I caught the big bad flu. The kind that knocks you on your ass for a solid week, and it did just that. For a week solid I had shakes and muscle aches, night sweats, head aches, muscle cramping...yadda yadda yadda.

Finally drag my ass around to the doctor and he tells me that I had the flu and now I have strep throat.

Now I'm on antibiotics and that should clean me up.

So that out of the way, here's that cool thing I wanted to show you:



That's me in the middle of the board meeting... the annual gathering of longboarders in Toronto. This years count was something like 320...pretty damn sweet.

Anyways I hope to keep updating, still hoping to build a new site for my faithful few, to showcase new cool stuff. I hope it happens.

Until them I'll keep plugging the odd thing in here as always.

Cheers

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIA!

It's a tad late but I just wanted to send a shout out to my wonderful niece julia and wish her a happy tenth Birthday. Happy birthday hun!

She'll never see this...thought that counts right?

So I've been as busy as ever, I'm almost certain that I don't have "slow times" in my life anymore. Everything always seemed to be keyed up and in high gear.

I'll be uploading some cool stuff to show you soon.

Cheers faithful few!

Passed That Class.

Well I got my results, It looks like I passed my deffered exam and got a passing mark in the course (about 60%) which is of course below class average, but at this point who cares?

Nice to know I just saved myself the $1000 that would have cost me to retake. Really, with the mess this class has become you would think I'd be jumping for joy. It's hard to explain though, I'm pretty apathetic. I think I stopped caring the second I walked out of the exam room, it's nice to hear that it wasn't in vein, but it's hard to care.

I've been a little weird lately, maybe school does that to me I'm not really sure. I think a lot of it has to do with living at home again. I don't have an oppressive family but I find myself chafing under my parents already. I've worked six days a week for four months straight busting my ass to pay down my school debt, which of course has helped but it's not enough to keep me living out on my own. It feels like I'm moving backwards. I'm back at home, back in debt, back at school, back to part time, back to my single life...time rolls slowly backwards it seems.

I've been stupid busy having fun (trying), in the last week I've been to a convention, concert, three movies, two camp fires, two photo shoots, three large parties, four or five outings with friends, I've had people stay over, I've stayed over, I've been skate boarding, tricking, catching up with friends old and new...I've been to Oshawa, Little Britain, Toronto, and all over Pickering...

The problem is that nothing seems to be enough, the second I get home I'm in a blah mood again. I hate being like this, I hate feeling out of place.

I'm all about The Sad Bastard music right now too. Bob Dylan, Dan Bern, Ryan Adams... I'm one dead dog and a broke down truck away from a swam dive off a large building.

Nah I kid, I'm not that bad, but I still hate feeling like this. I'll take a page out of my friends book and try and to be more of a lightswitch. Flick me on and I'll be happy, just like that.

Thanks Faithful Few, I'll update you as I go.

Cheers,

Fan Expo and musings.

Just a quick update.

So I've been attending the Toronto FanExpo for years now, it's a massive comic/sci-fi/anime/horror convention.

For years I only went for the comic book side of things, I grew up during the Image comics revolution so comics were BIG when I was a little kid. Since then I've ventured into a deep love of Science Fiction, and ask anyone who knows me or who's ever taken a peek at my bookshelves and you'll know I'm a massive Horror Lit fan.

But Comic Books, THOSE were my first love.

The first comic book I ever bought with my own money (that I can recall) was an issue of a book called Pitt. I want to say it was something like, issue #14, but that's not 100%. I bought it based on the cover art, period. The art was FUCKING STUNNING. The man behind that art? A Toronto local by the name of Dale Keown.

So long story short, Dale was a repeat guest at the Toronto FanExpo. I met him (for the first time) at the ripe old age of twelve or thirteen.

His fantastic work, and the fact that he was super nice kept me coming back year after year to see him again and again.

He stopped coming though, for whatever personal reasons, and didn't show for something like half a decade.

This year, he was a last minute addition to the guest list, and I got to meet him again. Suffice to say I think he's just as badass as I remember he was back in the day, and I got a chance to talk with him for a while this year and I think it's safe to say that he made this years convention for me.

He ALSO just put out the first PITT book to see the light of day in a decade, so that got me super pumped, I bought both variant covers, and had them signed. He asked me to keep in touch with him when I left, and he's on my facebook and I plan to do so.

On a completely different note. I HAVE to stop putting off my female friends, I'm starting to think that "being me" has turned me into "that asshole" who offends, unnerves, and confuses the women that I appreciate the most. I used to think I knew what I was doing, anyone mind telling me what in the hell happened there?

I think I'm going to go draw, I need to go do something introverted.