Hey Diddle Diddle

Hey diddle diddle

The cat took a piddle

The cow walked out of the room

The little dog barfed and turned out the light

While grandma belched out a tune...

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Can't Hardly Wait

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Mr. Yellow Sexy Boots

Well. I guess I should start out by wishing everyone a happy Canada Day, although I have to say that as a Canadian overt displays of patriotism make me feel kinda... Uh... I dunno, unpatriotic? Uncomfortable at the very least.  Still, it should probably be said.  I think I blogged last year on Canada Day and said nothing about it except to whinge about Stephen Harper which, when you get right down to it, is probably one of the great unifying factors of our nation.  That and complaining about Toronto. In any case, got other stuff to go on about now so I guess I'm done with the whole Canada thing.  I finished school last week with the second highest portfolio grade in the class, missed top spot by .5%.  Maybe I should have put more effort into it.  But still, when all is said and done I think my portfolio was the most creative and original in the class so I'm not too worried about it.  Now to find a job...  I moved back home on Saturday, which was traumatic to say the least.  I fit everything in my little blue civic except my bike (thank you Kim and Paul for the loan of garage space for that one) and my old snowboard boots, which I just plain forgot.  My car was so full I couldn't see out any windows except the front one, although things seemed to settle a bit as I drove along.  I really didn't want to leave Comox, and I'm having a hard time geting back into the swing of things here in Deroche.  Guess I'm just gonna have to find work and quit feeling sorry for myself.  Still first chance I get, I'm moving back to the island...  I'm gonna try to go there for the winter just so I can snowboard, although as is the case with most of my plans, that'll probably fall through.  Still, you gotta follow your dreams, right?  Or maybe you gotta pay your bills...  Can't remember which it is.  In any case.  Thought I'd post a few random videos and photos from my last Tofino trip, just for the sake of interest.  I'll start with Mr Yellow Sexy Boots.  I put this on youtube last night, with the tags BC, Boots and Tofino and it's already been commented on by some random stranger.  Which really makes me wonder how the hell they found it in the first place.  In any case... I'll shut up now.  

Presenting Mr Yellow Sexy Boots:

And now for video footage of the drive:

And Jackie, at Dana's after grad:

And just for shits and giggles, Tyler pumping up my air mattress (I only promised not to put it on facebook):

And on a slightly sadder note, my final trip up Curtis Road:

 

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Catching Rainbows

O.k. So I haven't blogged in a long, long time. People are actually starting to complain. Well, complain might in fact be too strong a word, but it has been noticed and commented upon by two or three of my six quasi regular readers. That's right folks, you read it correctly, six quasi regular readers. My stock's going up in the world. Speaking of worlds you are no doubt all desperately curious to know what's been happening in mine. The answer, as always, is not really very much. And as always, you're gonna get a rundown anyways. What the hell, I've got ten minutes before I leave for the bright lights of the big city of Nanaimo.... Quit laughing and pick yourself up of the floor. Yes I'm going to Nanaimo tonight to see the new Indiana Jones movie. And compared to Comox, Nanaimo is pretty fecking thrilling. That's how dull my life is. I've accepted it, and kindly request that you do the same.  No need for any comments along the lines of  "you need to get a life..."

So here's what's happened to me since my concussion in no particular order:

• I rolled my boat in the surf. It was fun. And slightly scary. Which in retrospect is probably why it was fun.
• I caught some weird flu bug when I came back to Comox from Deroche. I couldn't eat anything for 5 days. It sucked.
• I argued vehemently with Paul Bailey.
• I caught a rainbow.
• I got rather intoxicated at Dana's and rode my bike home. On the way back I stopped and had a conversation with a deer. He ignored me.
• I attempted to play the bagpipes. Dana's dog tried to run away from home. Coincidence? Who could ever say for sure?
• I have spent at least a dozen hours of my life listening to Mr "let me tell you all about ME" in class. That's 12 hours of my life I'll never get back.
• I have discovered, thanks to Tyler (all bow down before Tyler), the free bubble shooter game on the internet. My new dream is that from now on, all of Blair's classes will be in the computer lab so I can play this instead of pretending to listen to him. Really I shouldn't be so mean. He's a good teacher. Honest. I am a bad person. BAD.
• I got my pictures in the front window of the Muir Gallery in Courtenay. Because I rock. Also because no one else really wanted that spot. But I did have to fight Paul Bailey in order to get it. So it still feels like a victory.

So that's about it. My ten minutes are up. The bright lights of Nanaimo and a geriatric Indy beckon...

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An Injury for March

Like most other people out there, I'd like to believe that I am making progress of some sort or another in my life.  Sadly, the older I get the more I find my self repeating the same cycle over and over ad nauseum.  I thought I'd made a big leap forward in the past twelve months.  Afterall, I finally came to the realization that I was not cut out for office work, or tour guiding work, or social work (as it turns out possibly not cut out for work of any sort).  In any case.  I guess what I'm trying to say is I've made some huge changes in my life, and you would think it would follow that as a result I would break free of past cycles.  Except, apparently not.  I haven't checked, but I'm pretty sure that last year, just about this exact time, I was sitting down to type out a blog about my repeatedly sprained left ankle.  I'm happy to report my left ankle is just fine folks.  The swelling never did go away completely, but whatever.  I'm happy enough that it's functional and supports all my weight without any pain.  So no sob story about sprains.  Oh no.  This year I'd like to tell you the tale of a how I twisted my knee and concussed myself, all in the same 48 hour period...  So.  Last Thursday I head up the mountain, all glad that it was snowing and having a grand old time.  Sure, I couldn't see more than two feet in front of me, but I actually think that's why I was nailing all my turns (I couldn't see down the impossibly steep mountain, therefore I was not afraid to point my snowboard towards certain doom).  All went well until I tried to get on the Whiskey jack chair for another run down the hill, at which point in time I somehow managed to spin around so I was facing the chair as it sped towards me.  I had visions of missing teeth and fractured jaws, but I managed to recover my footing.  Mostly.  My board caught in the snow and I twisted my knee rather painfully.  Thus ended what otherwise would have been a perfect night of boarding.  I was pretty gimpy the next day so I took Friday as a day of rest, ignoring Tyler's advice to "ride it off" (I'm pretty sure that only works when you're nineteen years old).  Still, Saturday rolled around and I was feeling pretty good, so off I went.  I was doing pretty good, trying to get in as many runs as possible before heading to the college art show. I check my watch, 7:30.  Time for two more runs.  I decide the green run's probably best, I can work on my turns.  I ignore the man standing outside the Mountain Tek yelling at his son to "shut the hell up and get over here", crank my ipod, strap on my board, and I'm off...  All goes well for about 50 metres.  I turn around, catch an edge, fall.  And holy feckin' shit I hit the ground like a ten megaton nuclear bomb, right on my head.  God it hurt.  Cringe.  I empty my stomach (so glad I stopped at McShits on the way up), and slowly, slowly, sit up.  Pretty sure I'm swearing a blue streak by this point in time. And there up at the top of the trail is the family who'd been shouting at one another as I left, all standing around and staring at me.  Bastards just turn around and leave.  So I take off my helmet and check for any obvious dents or holes in the back of my skull, unstrap my board, limp back to the car. Somehow manage to take my boots off.  Get in the driver's seat and flip open my phone to check the time. Realise I can read it with my right eye only.  7:44 p.m.  I try again with my left eye, it reads 7: 4, a bright white spot obliterates the middle of anything I look at.  But I figure what the hell, I can see good enough out of my right eye, I can do this. I set off down the mountain, the lights from the ski runs leaving jagged, flashy trails of red and blue light across my vision.  So I go slowly, and it takes me a good 40 minutes to make a 20 minute drive.  I head straight to the clinic only to find it's closed, but since the supermarket's right there and I'm out of milk, I make a little stop.  Buy the milk, get some pineapple juice (an impulse buy that made perfect sense at the time), and decide that I should also check out the art show, since I went to the trouble of submitting a couple of pieces.  Run into a few classmates, but can't stand the god awful noise and light of the place so I leave.  In the parking lot I run into an old teacher and his wife, and after a rather confused conversation with them I decide that really I should go to the hospital.  So I do, only to sit there for two hours, trapped in the noisy hell that all emergency wards seem to be.  Doctor threatens to keep me overnight, so I lie, tell him I'm going to a friend's.  At this point in time I'd be happy to die if only it means I don't have to listen to the other patients and the nurses...  Worst moment of the night:  I phone my mother, tell her what's happened.  Listen to her say "I told you so".  Not in so many words, but you get my drift...  I'm happy to say I'm on the mend.  Tired all the time, still have a headache and the occasional moment of vertigo, it hurts to laugh, or cough... Sneezing is excruciatingly painful.  But still.  At least I can see out of my left eye again.  And I'm looking forward to the weekend.  Another chance to go boarding.  I thought it only appropriate that for this post's picture I feature the helmet that probably saved my life.  I don't think I would have walked away from this one if I hadn't been wearing it. Best $33.00 I ever spent in my life.  Never mind that when I wear it I look like I should be riding the short bus...

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