Tuesday, December 23, 2008

I Say, You Say*

I say … I’m developing a cheap and bottleless perfume.
You say … you’ll help me name it.
I say … it’s been done before.
You say … worth is contained in the bottle
I say … dispensed, it finds its value
You say … let me know how that works for you


*Inspired by an odd, one-sided conversation on the bus. The names and content have been generalized to maintain anonymity and to decrease the chances of the reader identifying with the characters "I" and/or "You".

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Buns of Awesome

After two weeks off to accommodate certain academic pressures, Chuck and I were back in the water last night for our longest swim yet. It's still not that great, but we're getting better! We paddled to this rhythm:

Warmup – 500m (20 lengths)
Workout – Pyramid Swim
50m in 1:15
100m in 2:30
200m in 4:30
100m in 2:30
50m in 1:15
(Repeat)
Cooldown – 350m (then we got kicked out by lifeguards who were eager to go home after ignoring the swimmers and talking to each other for an hour)
That's 1.85k total.

I've never felt so good about a swim. It was great. Why? Well, I'm going to pretend that you care and tell you – I think I've found the perfect breathing/stroke rhythm! I know, right?! It's significantly sweet because it makes everything else a lot easier, hence the "never felt so good."


Buns of Awesome
Originally uploaded by the fod.

After this incredible feat of physical prowess, Chuck and I reached for a whole new level of awesome and stayed up till 2am to make and eat cinnamon buns.

Until next time, keep fit, and have fun!

Saturday, December 6, 2008

A Writing Day at The Last Resort

It was one of those days where you say to yourself, "What the heck! I'll throw caution to the weak Toronto wind and just run, careless and carefree, to where my heart takes me. I'm going to break free from these desk and chair-shaped shackles that have monopolized my time for far too long. I'm off! Off to the cottage to ... uh, ... to do homework, but! not before I ... um, well, right after I move some furniture."

My dad and I left in the rented truck at 6-something in the morning. The pre-dawn chill was invigorating! (I wrote that sarcastically, but it really wasn't all that bad.) I fell into a death-sleep as we drifted through Barrie. It was one of those heavy sleeps where someone could have side-swiped our car, thrown a chainsaw-wielding bear into the cab, and my weighted eyelids would still have remained shut regardless of whether I wanted them open or not. It was nice. Sleep like that doesn't happen to me too often. Before I regained consciousness, we were (t)here.



After pops got things going inside, I packed some snow into a pot to melt for tea ...



... and we sat down to devour these huge, gravylicious roast-beef sandwiches. Our lunch steamed like it was made with molten meat and lava bread, which suggests that we're a) spirit-beings who remain unaffected by the physical realm 2) robots made of indestructible metal, or d) it was really cold and dry in there.

After lugging a beastly, wooden shelf thing upstairs with my indestructible robot dad, he left to check on a friend's place and I hunkered down by the stove for a bit of writing. Dad got a shot of the riveting action on his return.



It was a good trip. Dad's great like that – I guess it's called 'being content,' but even if we encountered the worst of circumstances and everything went horribly wrong, it would have still been good to spend time together. Thankfully, in addition to being fun and worthwhile, it was also a productive day.