The road less cycled

My final delivery of the night – probably # 11 or 12. The order is taken late, about 5 minutes before closing time. A ham, beef, pineapple medium pizza with a couple of cheesy breads, a 2L of Coke, and a few ranch dips. My manager, who took the order, says something about loving those guys, and that they’re in a basement suite with a glass sliding door. I see what she means when I arrive at the address. I’m still fishtailing wildly on these little sidestreets – the rain hasn’t overcome the snow just yet and I enjoy the sensation so I don’t bother slowing down. The kid is waiting for me on the front lawn. I’m a little late, as I have the wrong address on my ticket and missed a turn because my mind was elsewhere. The name on the ticket is Parker, and the kid definitely resembles a Parker. Baseball cap pulled sideways, and a bit of a defiant, yet downcast look in his eyes.

I follow him to the back of the house, where I step through the open glass door. I wonder, do these kids live on their own here? But no; in the back corner of the room some pillows are arranged into the form of a bed, and a middle-age man is huddled there. I assume he’s the father. He observes me, but doesn’t say anything. In the other corner, in front of a small television screen is a woman with curly black hair. The mother. Or perhaps one of them is a step-parent.  Whatever the case, neither of them respond to my polite question about how their evening is going.

I give the boys their total – roughly $30.00. The woman mutters something about $30.00 for a pizza. Parker replies that there’s 2 cheesy breads too, and besides, what does it matter since he’s paying for it. He gives me $40.00, and I give them their change, which the boys quickly split. Money is precious to them.

The man hasn’t spoken, but continues to observe me as I make ready to leave. The woman nods goodbye to me – it’s a furtive, hesitant glance. She’s uncomfortable; embarrassed; disapproving. Says (the boys) must have a bigger bank account than she does. I grab my heatwave bag, and leave the family to their food, wishing with all my heart that they enjoy it to the fullest. The boys tipped $3.00 – an extravagance they can ill afford. On the drive back, I’m ashamed to have taken it. I’m angry, too. I make record time back to the store, going close to if not over 100km/h on Maclure as I reflect on the scene. I’m angry at how the boys are growing up, having to confront the hard economic realities at such a young age. Angry that the parents must live in poverty, still, with little hope to improve their lot in life. Angry at myself for taking the tip. Angry at my culture for accepting this. Where were the neighbours when the family moved in? Did anybody say, “hi, so we’re neighbours now, eh? My name’s so and so – want to come over for dinner one night?”

I’m glad I’m a delivery driver. I’ve lived a privileged life; a comfortable middle-class existence. Always food on the table and dependable family. I don’t want to live in ignorance of the poverty, the homelessness, the addictions, the struggles so many are going through. As I drive, I vow to do what I can to help. I may be only one person, but a community is composed of many individuals all doing their part. I have an elderly friend from the local naturalist’s club who brings big pots of soup to the youth shelter. I don’t have any youthful friends who do the same, unfortunately. All this reminds me of a poignant saying I saw on the fridge at a friend’s grandparent’s place a few years back.

Paraphrased, it goes: “Observing all the street people in poverty, I asked God, ‘How can you accept this? Why don’t you do something about it?’ God replied, ‘I did do something: I made you.’”

I’m not religious; I have some vague and undefined spiritual notions, but I do reject the argument that some of my friends offer that they’re not Christian because Christians are so hypocritical. One pointed out that if Jesus were here today, he’d be downtown at Five Corners helping the hookers. Fair enough – seems to be a pretty damn good reason to be a Christian to me. Don’t judge Christianity by Christians; judge it by Christ.

One lonely, contemplative, reserved, broke, confused pizza delivering environmentalist student cyclist signing out and hitting the sack.

The following passage, is admittedly, copied straight from Stephen Rees’s blog, who found it on The Onion. Enjoy.

“While, obviously, it is extremely unfortunate that this forest was raped, it should have known better than to show off its lush greenery and tall, strong trees in the presence of my client if it didn’t want anything to happen,” said lead defense attorney Dennis Schickle, speaking before a courtroom packed with members of the media. “It’s only natural for any red-blooded American developer to get ideas in its head when it’s presented with that kind of untouched beauty.”

Here’s the full link: http://www.theonion.com/content/node/29690

So, I worked for my car deck and Chevron Oil company today.  Made about $80.00, gave $50.00 back to the guy who owns the faceplate my car came with, spent most of the rest on gas.  Dang, but why does it seem like I have to gas up every other day?  Yeah, I drive a lot, but the only way gas can go that fast is if I had a tube going to the tank and I was drinking it while driving.  Speaking of drinking unpleasant substances, the other day we paid S.S. to sample a bottle we found filled with an unknown yellow substance to find out whether it was apple juice or urine.  Poor fellow.  Let’s just say it wasn’t apple juice and he was filmed doing it.  But he got his $5.00.  Well, I shouldn’t say we…I was too cheap to fork over anything for the pleasure of seeing him drink it…pleasure which I got anyway because somebody else paid him, so score.  I suppose the stigma that Dutch people are cheap skinflints is rubbing off on me and I’m becoming a cheap skinflint.  There’s no end of banter about cheap Dutch bastards in the store – not exactly sure where that originated, but it sre if fun.  Whatever floats one’s boat, I suppose.

Realistically though, I’m not all that cheap.  I have very little respect for money, and when I have it I’ll darn well spend it without hedging too much.  For instance, some drivers will write down their tip amount after every delivery so they know exactly how much they should make at the end of the night, whereas I simply take the payment, shove it in my yogurt tub (yes, my yogurt tub) and jump in the car and take off.  I figure the less time I take writing, the quicker I’m back in the store, the more deliveries I get to take, the more I make in tips, and at the end of the day I’ll do better that way than painstakingly tracking everything.  I don’t like to sweat the little things.  You’ll never catch a millionaire counting pennies, because he knows his time is too valuable for that.  (“He” being a gender neutral term ).  I do believe in both giving and investing fairly liberally, roughly 10% each.  Every financial advice book I’ve read (the best are The Richest Man in Babylon, The Monk and the Merchant, and Your Money or Your Life) recommends giving away at least 10% of your gross earnings, and that’s what I try to do.  At the same time, it’s recommended to invest that much as well.  For quite a while I did both; lately I’ve done neither, mostly because I had no or little income and big tuition bills.   I acknowledge the importance of money; I damn well resent it strongly, and I don’t let it rule my life.  Neither do I treat it casually.  The older I get, the more cynical I get about how, truly, money does make the world go round, and with our wacked up system of having to borrow money from private banks at interest just to pay the interest on our collective debts the more I just want to say, and here I offer my very insincere apologies for fatigue induced profanity, “fuck this shit; I’m heading somewhere to start my own country.  But where?”.  If you divide the U.S. population into the U.S. national debt, each U.S. citizen is something like $30 000 in debt, in addition to their own personal debts.  Yaaay.  It’s tempting to offer platitudes such as “if you do what you love, the money will follow” or “money doesn’t make the world go round, love does.”  We are fortunate to live in a country where opportunity still abounds, but anyway you look at it, Canadians have less retirement savings, are working longer hours, and have greater collective debt.  The national savings rate is at or close to zero, the workweek is increasing, social services are declining and health care is harder to come by.  These are the hard realities, together with the fact that in the main metropolitan areas of Canada, young people like myself are being priced out of the homeowner’s market unless we make all the right moves, like being career focused and investing knowledgeably and not splurging on material goods.  Those of us who don’t will by and large find themselves with a 40 year mortage or being lifetime tenants.  It’s not a very pretty picture, and yet this situation has crept up on us so slowly that few of us realize how widespread it is.  Even fewer know what to do about it.  It’s the old frog in boiling water syndrome.

 On that note, I feel like I’ve become more materialistic and identified with popular culture in recent times; I’ve never really been that way at all.  Some people demonstrate rebellion through embracing rebellious aspects of our culture and society; I demonstrated it by pretty much ignoring most of what my culture offered altogether.  Lately however, I’ve really begun placing increasing importance on the material things that I surround myself with, and I’m not sure why.  Perhaps I’m seeking to strengthen my personality through that; perhaps I’m merely bored.  It is a trend I recognize, however, and that disturbs me a little bit.

Whew. A fun shift at work, as oxymoronic as that sounds. Just enough ice/snow to make driving challenging, and not so much as to make it difficult for my car to handle…but it’s supposed to snow more and Monday I work in Mission….the ultimate in snow driving because everything is straight uphill from the store.

I’ve been doing so many closing shifts lately, mostly because my co-workers want to leave early and I need the money so I volunteer to stick around until close. The money is good, at least until the car decides to stop working, but it really messes with my internal clock, my “biorhythms”. Going to bed at 4:00 a.m. and getting up at 12 or 1 every other day is pretty hard on the body, especially because on those nights when I don’t close, my body still doesn’t feel ready to sleep at 11 or so because it’s not in that rhythm anymore. All the free pizza sure isn’t too good for my physique either.

I really don’t regret starting to work at the pizza delivery job – it’ s not like most restaurant jobs. The co-workers are awesome. I’ve met some of the funnest and most interesting characters – A.E. who’s covered in tattoos, has the chain hanging from the pocket, and is a walking DJ. L.L., that lovable but super cocky guy. SD who makes it so much fun to be in the store everyday with her infectious laugh and quick wittedness. EK, who just gets along with everybody so well. S.S. with his litany of old beater cars and perpetual roving glint in his eye and others. There’s just enough horseplay and roughhousing to keep me on my toes, and yet the place is well managed and all the work gets done in good time, on top of which sales are going up. I’ve heard enough “your mom is this” jokes to last me a lifetime, but the work is not stressful and sort of fun even. Easier to connect with my brother too, as I often end up working with him and he’s been with the company for 5 years now so we have something in common. I’m a better driver and I know my way around better as well, so all around it’s been a positive experience. Now it’s time to save every penny so I can take some extended time off this summer.

It snowed heavily for a brief period today – a fact laced with irony given that yesterday, while taking out the compost, I noticed that my hardy daffodils are poking aboveground. They’ve found a niche in the roughly 3mx3m area where I manage my compost – they seem to do extremely well in the rich soil there. I compost in a very specific manner – new organic kitchen waste is placed on an open pile about 1mx1m, on top of which is placed alternating layers of high-nitrogen green material, soil containing inoculating bacteria, manure when available, and leaves when available. Every so often I’ll turn it with a pitchfork so the outer parts move to the inside and heat up as bacteria go to work. When it reaches a sufficient size, it gets pitchforked into a black compost bin, after which nothing is added and it is allowed to compost at a uniform rate, though I still make sure to turn it regularly by removing the bin and forking it all back in the top. In the meantime, a new pile is started which is usually ready to be binned roughly when the batch in the bin is completed and ready to be spread out over the garden. The 3×3 area is divided in 4 roughly equal squares, two of which are occupied and 2 of which are empty, and these help me to turn the pile more easily. The unseasonally sunny weather of the past few days had me itching to do some work in the garden, but it’s not time yet. Not for another few months, and even then I’m not sure how much work I’ll put into it. The year after graduation I worked in the garden a lot, easily putting in 10 hours a week, but I simply don’t have that kind of time anymore, and hope that I can arrange to do that internship with Salt Spring Seeds and Yoga Centre this summer. I haven’t told anybody officially of what my intentions are, but have been dropping frequent hints that I may not be here much this summer. I’d be working for free, just getting room and board, but the experience definitely looks worth it. I’ll worry about tuition for Fall ‘08 when the time comes.

Of interest, the Dutch word for daffodil is “narciss,” and the Latin “narcissus.” The root of both derives from the fable of the Greek youth named Narcissus, who fell in love with his own reflection, and gazed at it until he fell and drowned. A daffodil sprouted from where he drowned; hence the origin of the word “narcissus.” The daffodil is such a striking flower – when faced with its beauty, it’s easy to conjure up images of a young man admiring his own reflection and promptly drowning in a fit of vanity, still consumed by wonder at his own beauty. From hereon in, seeing the daffodil will be a reminder not to succumb to vanity.

Hail the Greeks!

So my blog needs a shake-up. How do I know this? Well, I wouldn’t want to read it. It’s super boring, unimaginative, and way too serious. It seems to be afflicted by the delusional perspective that life is actually a serious affair and that what happens to me matters in the big picture. I think I’m getting all serious and philosophical again, but going to Vancouver depresses me, and I’ll say why.

Passing neighbourhood after neighbourhood after industrial complex after shopping mall in my car, or gazing out at the vast expanse of shimmering yellow lights, like a close-up of the sky turned upside down, from the vantage point of the Skytrain as it zips from one end of the city to the other causes me to seriously consider my place in this vast hive of humanity, this urban labyrinth. Everybody in such a hurry to get wherever they’re going, an endless stream of traffic hurtling by, the harried and dejected look in the eyes of so many on the transit systems, the seeming utter absence of spontaneity and freedom of expression, and then the realization that I’m no different than any of the millions of people who inhabit the city of Vancouver – just another organism, one more microcosm of the universe trying desperately to etch out a niche for myself in this game called life. I have my petty concerns, my mental head games, my coping mechanisms just like all the other millions of people in the city, and the billions of people worldwide. They say that everyone’s unique, that we’re all created for a purpose and that we all have a role to play in the unfolding of the universe, but sometimes all these faces just seem to blur into one big mass called humanity – all our wars and politics, celebrity worship, desire for social acceptance, rampant consumerism, dissatisfaction with what life has to offer, vague and undefined notions of spirituality, all of this swirls in one big, repeating cauldron as generation after generation tries anew to rediscover what previous generations have already discovered. King Solomon said there is nothing new under the sun, and indeed there is not – there is only that which is new to me. Science inches forward in its unceasing quest to know more about how the world works, but its discoveries lead only to more questions. What is inside the quark after all? How and where did life originate? What accounts for this phenomenon known as spirituality which all of us seem to experience though few of us can explain it? I’m off topic and rambling, I know, so to return to my point, what makes me think that I should take the world so seriously? I don’t have any of the answers; I don’t know anybody who does, so until I figure out what under the sun I really want to do with my life, why not kick back and have a ball? Do what makes me feel alive? What might that be? Dancing to Abheeru’s music makes me feel alive. Climbing the mountains and looking down at the valleys lifts my heart. Staring into the eyes of a beautiful woman stirs my spirit (not to mention steals whatever poise and clarity of thought I possess ). Pushing myself so that my muscles ache but don’ t actually hurt is rewarding. Long, spontaneous, heartfelt conversation restores my faith. A kind gesture; enthusiastic attitude towards work; daring expression of creativity; speaking out against the status quo and standing up for a cause; a simple approach to life; an energetic piece of music - all these things and more make me feel alive and in the words of Chief Dan George, make my heart soar.

Environmental sustainability is important to me, but it’s not all on my shoulders. Whether I sacrifice my lifestyle and concentrate on activism and whatnot can’t really do more than make a small ripple in a giant ocean – I’ve sufficiently internalized those values that I’ll be a lot more responsible than a lot of people, and that’s really all that can be expected – it’s just something I do because I care, but it’s not who I am. The road to eternity is a long one – we might be fucking up this planet of ours like bad guests at a party, but are we really capable of doing the same to eternity itself? I, for one, don’t think so.

I’m writing while on hold with the Department of Citizenship and Immigration, whom I’m calling to inquire about the status of an application I sent them shortly before Christmas. Usually I don’t have too much trouble getting through, but today it’s a nightmare – and here in Canada, it takes twice as long because everything gets repeated in French. Well, now I have silence – am I still on hold or have I been disconnected? Ah, there we go – now I’m on the line.

On hold again – this time with some elegant classical music which lets me know I’m still on hold. I’m needing to travel into the States on a work-study I’m doing with a UCFV Geography professor on Cross-border Environmental Policy with Western Washington University, and all stressed out over the bureaucratic wrangling I have to go through. Additionally, the WDCAG Geog. conference is upcoming in Bellingham, and I’m excited for that as well, so I really need to get this paperwork done ASAP.

Holding the phone in this position reminds me how much I hated being a secretary for three months at a local manufacturing company I worked for – I’d get home after work with my neck muscles all cramped because I’d constantly be holding the phone between my neck and shoulder as I’m doing now. Almost as bad as warbler neck.

Ok. Got what I need. Gotta love those bureaucrats. Bellingham, Rotterdam, the world, here I come!

We discussed positive and negative correlations in Psychology 101 today, and seeing the world through a green lens as I do, my thoughts jumped to the positive correlation between the existence of a Tim Hortons on campus and the number of coffee cups filling the school’s garbage cans. If you find yourself at UCFV at all, take a glance at the garbage cans, and you’ll almost certainly notice that there are a lot of brown Timmy’s disposable cups in there.

How is the new Timmy’s a good thing for the student body? Being as addicted to caffeine as most students and faculty are, it’s almost certain that we’ll be tempted into spending way too much of our pocket money on our daily cuppa, leaving us with less financial resources to put towards tuition, books, savings, etc. Caffeine, while not the most harmful of substances, is known to increase the risk of miscarriage. It’s not as innocent as it seems.

Huge quantities of waste will be generated, and while the Roadrunner Cafe generated some as well, I strongly suspect that will pale in comparison to Timmy’s, unless some kind of mass conscientousness overtakes the UCFV population and everybody starts bringing their own mugs and demanding a discount. The day that happens will be the day I run through the hallways naked. Make that bicycle through the hallways. With the Facilities staff hot on my heels. Feel free to hold me to that.

The Cascade reported last semester that Timmy’s isn’t the most generous of corporations. Far from it – they fund a couple of kids to go to camp, amounting to a mere fraction of their profits, and that’s pretty much the extent of their corporate generosity. Also, their distribution system involves cross-country shipping of their menu items, contributing to increased emissions of greenhouse gases and air pollutants. I really can’t see a single positive to Timmy’s on campus. For that cup of coffee a day, we could fund a poor child in a Third World country, or contribute to a community organization that provides food for the hungry, or open a socially responsible investment account that will hasten the journey towards financial independence – something fewer and fewer of us seem to be reaching.

I’m no angel of purity when it comes to this topic – on the contrary, I’m an absolute sucker for coffee shops and impulse snack buying. I work next to a coffee shop, and don’t plan ahead well enough to bring a snack to work, so guess where I am at least once almost every shift? Yup, sampling a new type of Italian Soda, or a chocolate peanut butter mocha..mmmmm…and throw in a couple of monster cookies while you’re at it. Ooops, there goes $4.50. Oh well, I’ll just work an extra shift here and there – such goes the rationale…and before I know it I’ve racked up way too many expenditures on snack food and generated significant volumes of waste in the process. But I’m going to stop, now. Keep that coffee cup out of the garbage and the landfill, and the change in my pocket.

And those green-colored glasses which I seem to always be wearing? Well, don’t be surprised to see them in my front pocket now and again. Close at hand, but not quite so heavily used.  See you around – just not at Timmy’s.  Besides, isn’t Roadrunner Cafe a much more evocative and catchy name?  UCFV’s getting too good at allowing its assets to be destroyed- first University Station, now the Roadrunner…let’s hope someone in the administration recognizes the value of the woodlot which dominates the landscape to the south.

A dream of mine came true today. It’s a total admission of geekiness, but tonight UCFV Enviro hosted a forum on sustainable transportation at the Abbotsford campus, bringing in several high-profile and knowledgeable panellists to discuss how to stave off a future for the Fraser Valley that is completely car dependent. Yes, I dream of this kind of stuff happening, and when they do, well, these events always give me a big charge – coming home afterwards I feel so energized and optimistic. Something about getting that many people in one room together generates so much positive energy, and I really feed off of it. I absolutely love it – I call myself an extroverted introvert because it’s well known that extroverts are people who are energized by being in association with others, and leaving an event such as this just leaves me on a huge high, although I generally consider myself very much an introvert. Most times I’ll be more than content to just do my own thing, and social functions can really stress me out as well.

Today however, we pulled off the big forum, made a lot of headlines, and probably turned some heads in the process. Judging by the number of people in the audience and the dignitaries present, I’d say we significantly ratcheted up the political pressure to do better for the entire Lower Fraser Valley than even the latest 14B plan, if ever completed, will do. So much of it is just rehashing and re-presenting targets that we were supposed to have met by now. It seems the big price tag is there simply to create the impression that the government is actually doing something about transit and greenhouse gases, while the first priority remains roads, freeways, and more bridges. Doubt that? Just ask yourself why Gateway is being fast-tracked right away, while all the transit is on long term timetables. Governments can easily set long term objectives because by the time their promises come due, the government has changed and the politicians moved on. People have to get organized and stop letting governments promise the world and deliver only an island or two, and this forum is one step towards making this happen.

Perhaps when I’m 50 I’ll be disabused of the notion that people will ever take charge of their governments, but for now I’ll continue to bask in the idealistic belief that one day it will happen and we’ll see some real progress.

So, do you have your Rail for the Valley bumper sticker yet? No? Well, get on that train already!

It’s happening again. I’m allowing my life to be consumed by activism. UCFV Environment Club is hosting a big forum on transportation issues in the Fraser Valley on Wednesday night – bringing together some big names in the context of the Gateway freeway expansion and how to build sustainable transportation options for the Fraser Valley, and everyday is becoming poster this, e-mail that person, call this other person, make sure last minute details are worked out, and I’m more than a little fed up. I should be excited – I’ve wanted to do this forum for absolutely ages as our mass transit options are ludicrous and our governments don’t seem to get it. But instead I’m just frustrated, bored, and tired of transportation issues. It’s a huge passion of mine, but somehow whenever I get into a conversation with somebody and it turns to transportation, I just clam up. Don’t want to talk about it. Sorry, had it up to here. Find somebody else to belabor if you must. I’m not your man.

So once this is over, I’ll breathe a huge sigh of relief – after which I’ll probably jump headlong into the next campaign, namely transportation issues specific to Abbotsford and Chilliwack. We just need to run a petition campaign for UCFV students and get several thousand students to say yes, we support better transit for Abbotsford and UCFV, and would use it if it was in place. Send that to Abbotsford/Chilliwack/Mission City Halls very much in the same vein as Edith Greise who petitioned for the establishment of the Aldergrove bus line, successfully I might add. I’m just not sure if it’s worth it – at this point I know from talking to staff firsthand that they are planning to recommend significant transit improvements for Abbotsford, which includes 15 min. service on the 3 Go-Lines. If they’re already poised to recommend transit improvements, is there any point in mounting a big campaign to advocate for it? It would mean lots of tabling, manning booths, collecting signatures, etc. It seems to be in my blood, and I can’t seem to stop, when what I really want is to cut all this crap for at least a little while, work lots of hours, save up for some serious hiking/camping trips this coming spring/summer, get this property looking half-decent, and just chain myself to a computer and write, write, write, interspersed with travel, travel, travel. Need to find out more about this Beat Generation thing I keep getting reminded about in TC’s amazing classes.

I can’t tolerate living in such a mess much longer – if it means crawling under some cars even though I haven’t the faintest clue what I’m doing, so be it. If it means renting a pick-up when my dad’s not looking and bringing half the junk we have kicking around to the dump and the other half to the auction, so be it. If it means tearing around the house like a madman for a couple of weeks, well, alright. As long as I can come up the driveway and and into the house and be a little proud of what I see, and feel comfortable inviting people over just to hang. I do, after all, pretty much have the run of the basement. I’d love to just have a little bike workshop where I have all the tools I need, along with a productive garden, and a driveway that’s not jam-packed with broken down vehicles that never seem to get fixed. Home should really be a place where you look forward to coming to everyday. It ought to be a respite from the outside world and a gathering place for friends and the community, and right now, it’s not. Far from it – some days I actually prefer to be at work and am reluctant to come home, like today, where I just went for a long, slow, musical drive after work – musical driving being where you drive in tune with the music – slow when it’s quiet and peaceful, fast when it’s hard and heavy. There’s something about just crawling around at 30kph at night, just looking and observing, that’s rather fun. Friend of mine once talked about driving on backroads with the headlights off, and I gave it a try just to see what it’s like, and to be honest, I can’t really see the attraction. Fun at first, but got boring really fast. The problem with this kind of thing is I know the area too well – maybe I should try doing it in Chilliwack, as I do need to go through AirCare soon and there’s an AirCare station there, and usually it’s recommended to burn off a tank of gas first. Talk about finding an excuse to go for a drive. I’m starting to feel a little less guilty about the amount of carbon dioxide and air pollutants I spew into our atmosphere – I’m only one person, and I’m not everyone else’s whipping boy. Yes, we need to change our ways and fast, and I do want to be on record as believing that, but I didn’t create this messed up world. It’s just as much fun to ride buses or trains randomly, only there aren’t very many of those to ride, so until there are I don’t very much want to be cooped up in my backyard, thanks very much. I suppose I need some good bike gear and to meet more than just the 2 or 3 people I know who are really into cycling so we can put together some good long bike tours in the coming seasons – pack some tents, cooking equipment, and hit the road, Jack, and don’t come back no more, no more, no more, hit the road, Jack…..and don’t come back no more.

The wanderlust has never been so strong.

There’s a couple of areas where my life could stand to be shaken up a little. I fully intend to continue broadening my horizons, and in that vein there’s a few things I’m going to change in 2008. In no particular order, here they are.

So, lets see…I’d like to become a more proficient cook, and not usually being in the habit of eating my friends (to borrow a line from the wonderful Doctor Doolittle musical) this is, of course, a vegetarian pursuit. Vegan where not prohibitively inconvenient. (tip: replace eggs with ground flax seeds in water – this has worked quite nicely for us lately, as flax has similar binding properties as eggs).

I also intend to… return to cycling with greater frequency, actually put effort into building my business, study in Holland, run weekly, work out (muscle building) weekly or semi-weekly, cease burning midnight oil as a consequence of procrastination on homework, achieve a 4.00 GPA, visit and perhaps work at Saltspring Seed Sanctuary/Yoga Centre, put more effort into maintaining social relationships, go bungee jumping, allow myself to be way more spontaneous and follow where the winds lead, be more involved with family, revive my organic vegetable garden, learn all I can about natural health and experiment with dietary efforts such as mono-dieting, fasting, cleansing. I haven’t been to a Canucks game in ages and would love to do so. Next winter I’d like to do some skiing/snowboarding. Also, I want to develop some mechanical/handiman competence, learn woodworking, keep the property in a presentable state, learn to play a musical instrument or learn to sing, join a recreational basketball or soccer league, maintain involvement with UCFV Enviro, Ravine Park Salmon Hatchery, Abby Cycling Action Group, run for the SUS, play the field – see if its possible for any woman to top HH (which actually means asking some people out – something I’m not all that good at), work on vanquishing impassivity, externally dispassionate approach to life, especially in regard to social interaction, approach each day with excitement and enthusiasm; continually remind self to maintain this, attend Toastmasters regularly, blog less, sleep more….

I see. It’s time to prioritize. Damn. You know, reincarnation better be a reality? There is way too much to do in this life, and I’ve only barely scratched the surface, and see no way of ever doing everything that I want to.

Bottom line? Enjoy the moment, be satisfied with what I have and what I can accomplish, make every day a new beginning, and take nothing for granted.

Swim…

Resolution #1 is being postponed. Resolution #1 is to make New Year’s Resolutions, something last night’s activities leave me in no fit state to undertake.

On a side note, the view from the Mission Bridge a hour or so ago was absolutely striking. Splendid, splendid. How often do we stop to appreciate what a beautiful part of the world we live in?