Does that make me the Best Practicer?

I’ve been thinking a lot about Best Practices lately.

So I’ve been going to gym classes for years. Again and again there’s this refrain of “tighten your core”. Recently I realised two things:

  1. I’d never really known how to tighten my core.
  2. Tightening your core literally helps with EVERY exercise.

The reason why tightening your core is so great, is that it stops strain from going into other areas of your body when you’re trying to work/stretch a specific area. So Best Practices tell me that tightening my core will make everything better. Ergo, core tight at all times. Easy, right?

Turns out I forget about my core and loosen up ALL THE TIME. Maybe every 20 seconds to minute I realise my core isn’t as tight as it could be, and that would help. So I tighten my core again. It used to take me a while to properly tighten my core. Now it takes about a second. I remember that I’m gonna get more out of my exercise if I tighten my core, so I make the adjustment and things get better.

I’ve started noticing this as a trend in most things I do. There’s a matter of Best Practices whereby one little adjustment will make the whole process easier. Say I’m typing at work and I notice I’m slumping, or my posture is weird. I straighten up, or put my feet flat, and things work better. It used to take longer to figure out, but the more often I do it, the quicker it becomes. Now the adjustment takes a second or so. Holistically it means I’m spending far more time in an ideal position than I was before, and I notice I’m starting to do things more effectively than I was.

I think about Best Practices when I’m chopping veggies, when I’m riding my bike, when I’m sweeping, when I’m going ham on a spot with a melamine sponge. Simple tasks are getting easier and faster. I’m getting better results. Aligning in the best possible way is improving everything, and making those adjustments just takes a thought.

You show a guy Hamilton ONE TIME

Many people have tried to push me towards leadership. It’s one of those common threads. Y’know, like when you’re watching a movie and there’s this little wink they do? And you’re like THAT’S coming back in the third act? Those threads. I’ve spent my life running away from it. Teachers would always put me in those roles, try to redirect something I probably let out in less productive ways. It never made sense to me. Why were they asking me? There were smarter people out there. Why not get someone who’s always right? I imagine the possibility of failure meant I never wanted to try. I was a chubby nerd. I was uncool enough without risking my reputation on my ability to not fuck up. The world was hard enough as a teen, why would I take on that mantle? Every now and again I’d pitch in, and it’d be fine. I still didn’t want that pressure. Leaders knew what was going on. They were confident, calm, and took charge. I was not decisive, and too afraid of being taken seriously.

And now I just don’t really care. I’m not cool, and that’s fine. I see leadership as something different now. I’m finally realising that leadership is a service position. You’re not trying to prove how good you are, you’re understanding the potential of everyone around you. You don’t need to have all the answers, you find the people with them and empower them to create change. You’re looking for the best outcome you’re able to facilitate. Being a leader doesn’t mean you always lead. It’s knowing when to step back and let others shine. Maybe there are specific areas in which you’re able to lead, and not others. It’s all part of it.

As is walking the walk. A leader who is not willing to lead by example is not a leader, they’re a narcissist. Be accountable. It doesn’t matter how you look, it’s how you act. Don’t place unfair expectations on others. Help them be their best. Treat people kindly as a first resort. Everyone has invisible baggage and potential. Normalise understanding when you’re wrong, admitting it, and looking for a better solution. Work towards progress, not profit.

I’m not committing to anything here. I might look out for times I can help, and see how that goes. I mostly don’t want to admit I’m in my third act.

This space is your space, this space is MySpace

Hey friends, I’m kinda frustrated because my computer is having boot issues and won’t start up properly. I don’t have the mental energy to do something creative, so I’ve fished up one of those Myspace surveys off the internet, and I’ll do that.

Can you whistle?
Yes

Scariest thrill ride you’ve been on?
Some old wooden coaster at Canada’s Wonderland. A couple of termites away from a real nightmare.

Where is your favorite place on earth?
A bathroom when I need to poop.

How did you lose your virginity?
Awkwardly with my first girlfriend.

Most awkward kiss?
I’ve definitely told this story before. I hooked up with someone, and she was like “oh, you’re a terrible kisser”. So she taught me how to kiss and since then, it’s all been peachy.

Whats the last song you danced to?
The Pringles Dick song from Harmontown.

Ever had a stalker?
We live on the internet now. I’m almost certain I have.

Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near?
Much like a bird, I have hollow bones. But I’ve filled mine with bird hormones.

How do you think you’re going to die?
Mercury poisoning. Do you know how much tuna I eat?

What’s your favorite thing about yourself?
I like how my brain works almost as much as I hate how it works.

Would you eat peanut butter out of your best friend’s belly button?
For a dollar? Sure. Anything less and probably, but I’d be disappointed. Not angry. Just disappointed.

Play any sports?
Does Magic count? I think it aired on ESPN once or twice.

Ever been to a concert?
Many many many.

Who did you last hang out with?
My girlfriend before she went to work. Also some cute dogs at a pet store.

Favorite thing to do in the summer … in bed?
Procrastinate over getting vertical while fucking around on my phone.

Something you hate to do?
Ironing. I loathe it.

If there was a spider, how would you kill that shit?
Honestly, I’d probably take it outside. If not? SPLAT SPLAT MOTHERFUCKER.

Who knows you best?
Definitely not Facebook. I’ve been blocking every single page/ad it recommends to me. I have over 700 blocked pages by this point. I keep removing the interests it garners for me, so it finds more. Last time I checked it was like “you like golf, philosophy and France”. It’s partly a “fuck you Zucc” move, and partly wanting to see what happens if I fuck with their algorithms.

What’s your earthquake escape plan?
My fingernails are getting long, so I might burrow beneath the earth like a goddamn mole and wait it out.

What part of your body needs a massage?
My neck, my back, and you know the rest.

Last thing you put in your hair?
Probably conditioner.

Ever had a pogo stick or a Scooter or bike or car or horse or legs or a lai or a latte?
Simultaneously, yes.

What year did you discover MySpace and how did it make you feel?
I have no idea, but I thought it was a fucked up Geocities site.

How many kids do you have or want to have?
Don’t have kids, do want kids, but also if I could clone myself I’d probably do that instead.

What kind of things did you see today?
The inside of my computer, a lot of dust, two dogs at the pet store. An atom splitting itself.

Best bargain airline?
I fly on the Pokemon plane, or not at all.

What do you do when you are upset?
Take it out on myself.

Funniest song lyric?
“Last Friday, I took acid and mushrooms
I did not transcend, I felt like a walking piece of shit
In a stupid looking jacket.” – Car Seat Headrest “Drugs with Friends”

When was the last time you bro’d down?
April 26 1992.

Are you keeping a secret from someone close? … What is it.
I would not, in fact, see them soon.

When was the last time you threw up?
Between the hours of 2am and 7am.

Have you ever led someone on?
I don’t play like that, Jack.

What it is?
You drive a hard bargain, but sure.

What’s the last thing you drank?
Water from a blue water bottle with a sticker of an Ankylosaurus on it.

What would be the best gift ever?
An Ankylosaurus.

Do you prefer to talk on the phone or text?
ICQ, baybee.

Do you believe in global warming?
That there are sub 30 years left in the world? Yessiree.

What’s the most controversial thing you support?
In the Me Too movement, I think it’s an entirely defensible position to no longer want to support artists who have done monstrous things without showing remorse or a commitment to meaningful change… while not erasing the fact that you enjoyed their work. I have zero wish to see anything Louis C.K. puts out any more. I don’t want to see new comedy he does, watch his movies or any TV shows. But I’m not gonna pretend that I didn’t love his comedy for a long long time, that many of the jokes he made aren’t funny or relevant, or that I really treasured his TV show. I’m not gonna go rewatch them, and as far as I’m concerned, whatever he has to say from now on is not something I’m interested in.

What is your current mood?
Frustrated.

Who do you admire?
St Vincent all goddamn day every day.

Do you sing in the shower?
If I’m alone, yes. Often the Duck Tales theme song.

Are you photogenic?
With the right photographer.

What would you do if you were tickled?
Bite back.

Do you believe in aliens?
Yeah. I still haven’t seen the original, and Alien 3 was kinda shit, but Aliens was one of my favourite childhood movies.

What would your prison name be?
Zesty Zane

How would you handle being asked to babysit?
I would probably say no unless I really liked the person.

What do you want to do when you grow up? Retire?
If I get to the requisite size, I think I’d like to challenge Godzilla to a duel.

Is it possible to get you to move without making a noise?
I move like a whisper.

Do you wish on shooting stars?
People should not shoot stars, period.

Favorite smelling group of people?
Anyone who works at an Ol’factory.

What noise do you currently hear?
My typing. This bluetooth keyboard has a super satisfying clack, which is the only reason this sentence is as long as it is. I mean, how am I supposed to stop? Idle hands are the devil’s work or something. I can’t have that on me.

Goddamn ACMElennials

I think I got caught by a Wile-E Coyote trap.

Lately on my days off I’ve been going with a friend to his gym. It’s closer to home than mine are, and it’s nice to share the experience. We don’t work out together, but we generally do a little stretching, hop on a cardio machine, then do separate exercises and leave together. It’s been handy as an accountability tactic, which means a bunch to me. There are always days I really don’t want to be active, but being accountable to someone else helps me get out the door. I was walking to the gym when the successful hoodwink took place.

People here in Toronto throw out stuff all the time. They’ll put it out by the sidewalk. The rules generally are that you don’t take objects with fabric as a bedbugs avoidance tactic. Often though, people are ridding themselves of superfluous belongings. Over the years I’ve gotten wooden shelves, bathroom drawers, board games and a cast iron pan I nursed back to health. As I was walking to my friend’s gym today, I noticed a bong sitting on the side of the road. I thought that was bloody weird, brazen and almost endearing. I did not take the bong. I don’t often smoke from bongs, and I have no desire to make it a part of my home habits. If I did, I’m certain I’d spring the $20-$40 (I’m a square, I have no idea what a bong costs) to buy my own. Frankly, the only Bong I care about is the dude who directed Parasite. However, I stopped to look. There wasn’t just a bong. There was a pile of books, a pair of leather pants and some gumboots. Sitting in the middle of all this was a solitary can of tuna. My interest was piqued. It was spicy Thai chilli flavour, which is not my favourite. My girlfriend likes it though, and I’d eat a can if I didn’t have any yellowfin olive oil left.

I picked up the can and had a closer look. Everything seemed fine. I tested the foil seal, it was entirely intact. There were no puncture marks over the foil, all the edges were secure. I turned the can over in my hand, running my fingers along each side. I checked for any marks, dents, etc. The can was as fresh as the day it was factory sealed. The expiry was September 2020, loads of time. It all appeared too good to be true, so I did what any youngster who ascended to adulthood post Global Financial Crisis would do and I took it. Cans of tuna don’t grow on trees, y’know?

I know it sounds exactly like I’d accidentally knock a stick and have an oversized cardboard box trap me, but it didn’t happen. No anvils fell from clifftops. I saw zero sign of bombs or rocket powered rollerskates. I didn’t walk into a brick wall painted like a tunnel, nor did I get crushed by a train. I would have expected at minimum to be caught in a bear trap, but zilch occurred. The can is sitting on my kitchen table, and I’m giving it time on its own before integrating it in with the rest of my cupboard full of cans. Who knows? Maybe it’s filled with TNT or snakes. I bet this is how I get COVID-19. Nothing’s happened yet, but my eyes are peeled.

I can roadrun, but I can’t hide.

Un-nintentional

I heard the craziest thing. Apparently Nintendo players don’t get sad. They get on Wii instead.

Today has been most frustrating. I came up with that dumb pun when I got to work, and I’ve had nobody to tell it to. That’s not entirely true, I’ve been shoehorning it into practically every conversation I’ve had. Mostly though, I’ve been stalking the kitchen in the hopes that an old co-worker will show up, so I can wow them with my glorious pun. Will they get it? Maybe not. Someone already didn’t know what ennui was, but I can hold out hope as ever. So I’ve found every opportunity to head into the kitchen. Did I need more coffee? Not remotely. That didn’t stop me from going in twice to half-fill (what can I say? I’m an optimist) a cup in case any of my buds happened to be in there. No such luck. I refilled my water bottle a few times once it got half-empty (what happened to that optimism, buddy?), still, none of them turned up. I walked over to my old department, but I was too early and none of them were in yet. Then again, it’s Friday. I’m sure they’re working from home. Guess I’ll keep awkwardly injecting my pun into conversations with strangers.

Oh, here’s a thing. I have a problem. It’s not a big deal, but it doesn’t not create problems for me. Here it is: I’m friendly and people constantly get the wrong idea. I don’t know if the issue is with others not knowing how to read a room, or that I co-opt social conventions in a manner that confuses people. I like to chat, and I’ll happily create conversation with whoever’s around. I’ll ask questions, not altogether probing, but it makes sense to discover more about a person if we’re conversing. Don’t get the wrong idea, it’s not that I’m not interested in their answers. I’m an inquisitive person and naturally I want to know more about people from different walks of life. People, however, misconstrue my positive manner and inquisitive nature for a deeper connection than I believe we have. Perhaps they’re not used to people taking an interest in them. I have no idea. However the next thing I know, I’ll see them and they’ll greet me like an old friend. It’s not offensive, but neither are we friends.

I’ll respond in kind, because I see no reason not to be unfriendly to someone until they give you one. The trouble kicks in when they start pushing more and more towards inserting themselves in your life. I’m an open person, and I do enjoy making new friends. It doesn’t for a minute mean that I want to be friends with everyone who I act friendly towards. I’m very much a fan of specific servings of people. There are people I talk with in the kitchen. That doesn’t mean that they’re grab a beer with people or spend time outside work people. Some of these people become message me outside of work with emotional labour people, because I’ve done some of that in the kitchen at work. Others become implore me to come to their gigs people without asking me what kind of music I like, or content I’m interested in. That’s weird, right? That’s pushy and a line-crossing of sorts, isn’t it? if I’m to be charitable, it’s the kind of behaviour you’d share with friends, but I don’t see them as friends. To me, they’re barely acquaintances. They’re faces I see around the place for a quick exchange. They’re definitely lower on the hierarchy than ex co-workers I’m hounding to make puns at. It’s frustrating, because as an adult I don’t know how to tell another adult “sorry, but I think you think we’re a lot closer than I do.”

Like I said, it’s not a big big deal. I’m sure that if I were a woman, I’d be suffering a ton of unrequited crushes instead of attempted forced friendships. At the same time, rather than giving vaguely dismissive statements when someone invites me out, I’d love to be able to stand my ground and give a firm but gentle boundary. That takes adult powers, and I’m working on those. Any suggestions from the peanut gallery? How do I let people know that we’re not friends, and that’s okay? Or am I just being awfully petty, when I could be sneakily avoidant and run from my problems instead?

If I was a Nintendo player, I’m sure I could just DScalate.

Well excuuuuuuuuse me Princess

Are y’all ready for a little secret? I hate making responsible choices.

I guess that’d have more impact if you knew me better. It’s not like I’m a bastion of decorum, living as an adult should. At the same time, I eat three square meals a day, try to get eight hours sleep a night, and I obviously keep regular. I never miss work, I wake up to my alarms, I do my dishes and clean my laundry regularly. I bike to work when I can, and catch public transit when I can’t. I am the very model of a boring aged millennial.

I also love to drink, smoke weed, and eat more than is necessary any chance I can get. I use excessive Oxford commas. I stay up late doing nothing meaningful on the internet. I rarely read books these days, and my mum would balk at how infrequently we clean the sheets. I still haven’t watched Parasite. I’m not perfect. I try, but I’ve got time. I’m not dead yet.

But back to the second paragraph, I get stuff done, right? I’m not a total mess, and there’s a reason for that. I’ve developed a system that works for me in making responsible choices. I’m not gonna say “it’s easy”, but here’s what works for me: I try to make excuses really hard to come by. If I have the choice to do something less responsible, I’ll usually want to do it. Maybe eight times out of ten, at least. So I’ve found that if I create a structure whereby it’s so easy to make a more beneficial choice, I will. If it’s late at night, I’ll always want to snack. If we have chocolate, ice cream, candy, whatever, that’s what I want. Over the years I’ve tried to cut down those options. I’ll stock the house with healthier foods to minimise the severity of binge eating. I’ll give myself options, but they’re pretty tame. Apples, granola, peanut butter and jam on rice cakes. If it’s more work to go to the store to pick up ice cream, I’ll likely settle for whatever’s in the fridge or cupboards.

I don’t use the snooze function on an alarm. I have a time to wake up and that’s that. If I gave myself the option of snoozing, who knows when I’d actually get out of bed? Without that choice I either get up when my alarm goes off, or I miss work. I could either be slightly frustrated by tensing my fingers and toes a bunch of times to keep myself awake, or I could get fired. It’s hard to make excuses when it’s easier to make the responsible choice.

I like biking to work. I’m not sandwiched between people, the activity keeps me alert and awake, it’s exhilarating to speed down hills. It’s also more effort than it would be to take a bus and be passive. It’s so easy to sit down and listen to a podcast, walk a small amount, then be at work. On the other hand, it’s so much cheaper to bike. Every day that I bike to work, I save roughly $6. That stacks up. Back when I worked five days per week, I was paying $145 or so per month for a bus pass. It’s Winter, so I’m biking a little less often, but if the weather was conducive I’d be spending somewhere closer to $30 a month, probably? Over the course of a year, that’s a big chunk of change. It’s definitely enough to have reimbursed myself for the cost of the bike itself. With that at stake, it seems a no-brainer to bike when I can. If I legitimately need the break, I’ll take it, but otherwise I strap on my helmet and head downhill.

Dishes, gym, sleep, washing. I don’t necessarily want to do these things. I know they’re good for me, but they’re not fun. At some point, I will have to do them. If I keep procrastinating, I’ll have to think about how I’m not doing them. The frustration will sit in the back of my brain, and it’ll niggle at me when I’m doing something I like. So the thing I like becomes less enjoyable, ’cause I’m too busy being annoyed with my procrastination. The sooner I do them, the sooner they’re over and I can enjoy the stuff I actively want to do. These tasks may mean I spend less time doing my chosen activities, but it’ll be quality time when I do. When I think of it that way, where are my excuses?

Case in point, this daily writing. Do I want to do it every day? Any day? Mostly no. However, my choice is to do the writing before I go to sleep. I’m not allowed to sleep until I’ve written. Insomnia would be less desirable than putting aside half an hour, so it’s hard to find an easy excuse. Accordingly, I think I’ve done almost 2500 days in a row. See, it works!

Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna buck the trend and excuse myself for the day.

It’s called being mp3-PO’d

Venting time.

A month or so ago I got new earbuds. Bluetooth, wireless. I marvelled at how easily they connected. At the gym, it was almost a revelation to feel so uninhibited. No cords getting in the way. I didn’t even have to wear my mp3 player on my person, so no annoying pocket bulges to watch out for when holding weights. I’ve never dropped a weight on a pocket iPod, but there’s always a first time. After years of reticence over getting something a) wireless and b) bluetooth, they were working better than expected. Unfounded fears. They were excellent for biking too. Not bulky, able to be worn under a helmet. They even had a little carry case to handily slip into a pocket once I was finished. Exemplary.

One thing, the sound kinda sucked. I had no idea why. The previous pair I trialled of the same brand had no such issue. I tried swapping back to the original pair, which were a little too quiet for my tastes. They now had the same issue as this new pair. Needless distortion. The highs were too sharp. I tried toning it down with EQ, and other internal sound modifiers on my mp3 player. Still, distortion. Not with my non-bluetooth headphones though. I didn’t know what to do, so I admitted defeat and kept using the distorting earbuds. I sat with the disappointment for weeks. It was frustrating. My portable music is often the soundtrack to my life. My commutes, gym time, and living room listening revolve around it.

Then all of a sudden, my mp3 player reset in the middle of a listening session totally unprompted. My colour settings had changed, any options I’d swapped had reverted. Was this a complete factory reset? I listened to a track, worried that something had gone wrong. It sounded perfect, no distortion. I tried tracks/albums I knew had been problematic in the past. They were entirely fine. Whatever my problem was, it happened of my own making. Some setting I’d changed while trying to get the first earbuds to go louder. Maybe I’d cranked the internal bluetooth volume up too much. Perhaps I’d messed some kind of audio setting that was amping up the distortion. It’s currently a problem of the past. Will it always be that way?

I guess my qualm now, is that I’m a little bit tentative to mess with the settings. It’s remarkable how customisable this unit is. There are a bunch of visual changes you can make, which won’t affect the sound. You can alter how it transmits male or female vocals, sibilance, dark or warm bass, etc. There’s also a decent EQ function with a bunch of presets. Will I be too scared to mess it up, that I’ll miss out on crafting a more personal sound? Of course it’s easier to let things lie, but what if there’s a way to make it sound even more tailored to my tastes? That seems like a shame to miss out on.

Is conservative exploration a thing? Or is that what it’s called when you only travel to English speaking countries?

I mean, so far that does kind of sound like me. Maybe it’s time for a little progress.

No “might” about it, your dad is going down

Holiday time.

Did you know that it’s not illegal to own a kinkajou in Toronto? Did you know what a kinkajou is? They’re this adorable little monkey raccoon thing. Very fluffy, dexterous and mischievous. They have these nimble little paws they can use to get into all sorts of stuff. Playful and active, they relentlessly climb and crawl around. They also live 25-40 years or so. They’re a lifetime companion. Really unusual, and tough to care for. I know that they’re far enough across the effort line for me, but egads do I ever want a friend to have one I can play with. At least they’re sociable, unlike chameleons. I half-heartedly wanted a chameleon for a while, but then I discovered they’re skittish and rarely spend time with people, so what’s the point? Why have a pet you can’t interact with?

I’ve had that Billie Eilish song “Bad Guy” stuck in my head, but just the “So you’re a tough guy” verse. My brain keeps searching for different iterations:

So you think you’re a tough guy
Hang out with McGruff guy
Swinging your handcuff guy
Masturbate to snuff guy

And etc. There’s something syllabically pleasant about the whole thing. They don’t even need to make sense to be enjoyable.

So you know you’re a prawn guy
More of brains than brawn guy
Wouldn’t hurt a fawn guy
Tend well to your lawn guy

It doesn’t mean anything, right? But it’s fun to do.

So you think you’re a meat guy
Your brains are so sweet guy
Pork chops for your feet guy
Just apply some heat guy

Nonsense.

So you think you’re a fruit guy
Your veins are called roots guy
Only play a lute guy
Have a malamute guy

Somehow, I’m still having a time, so this will go on.

So you think you’re a nice guy
Never had hair lice guy
Quite the Biker Mice guy
Your name’s likely Bryce guy

Oh, I’m a bad guy. But it’s a sunny day outside and I can actually bike. I’m gonna kiss you suckas goodbye and head out to the gym. Holidays are here!

Young Pope in the hand is worth Two Popes in the theatre

Main screen turn on.

I had big plans today. I was going to get out of bed and onto my computer instead of scrolling endlessly through social media while lying down. My bed is a trap, and I knew if I leapt out of it, I’d stand a better chance of making it to the gym before work. Spoiler, it didn’t happen. I got out of bed, but watched the newest episode of Rick and Morty, then listened to a Snake Jazz loop on YouTube for 38 minutes. I missed my cut off time for safely getting to the gym and not missing work, so here I am. I have an extra hour up my sleeve and I’m gonna use it to do nothing productive whatsoever.

Speaking of which, I spent half an hour in a mouse based wormhole. Scenario: The guy at work who’d borrowed a mouse from his room mate for the studio has rightfully taken it back. I’ve been roaming the office late at night, cannibalising mice from unused desks. Unfortunately, they’ve all sucked. They’ve had slow response times, shitty scroll wheels and have really thrown off my productivity. I didn’t think I had so many feelings about computer mice, but here we are. I’m doing editing work, so having a snappy mouse is ideal. In Pro Tools for instance, I always have Smart Tool turned on. This is an editing function that allows different editing options for a sound clip based on where you click. If it’s at the start of the clip, it’ll crop. If you click on the centre of the clip, you can move it. If you click close to the start of the clip, it’ll go into fade mode. Its actually incredibly useful, but requires precise movement. I also spam the scroll wheel as part of my process. I briefly tried a trackball, but couldn’t handle how slow I felt. I know these things are a process, but I’ve got very little patience when I just want to finish more work. I went through a couple of lists, gaming mice rose to the top. They seemed excessive for my needs. I don’t need a wireless cybertruck on my desk. I don’t know that I’ve used programmable buttons before (though when I think about it, they could be really useful). I don’t know what kind of DPI I’m looking for, or if I need customisable weights in my mouse (though actually, that sounds kinda neat). The point is, there are a shit ton of options, and that’s put me solidly into analysis paralysis. A new mouse will probably cost $50, and will make all my working hours that much more enjoyable. It’s a very small price to pay, and I wonder if I can still somehow charge it to the department. That would make it an even smaller price for me to pay. I would, however, have to decide on a mouse before.

Check and mate.

Also, speaking of things that are not mice, I’m more excited than ever to see Cats. It sounds like a Lynchian nightmare of arcane insanity. Edibles are legal here in Canada now, and they seem ideal to let my mind dissolve by.

Farewell. I won’t.

If you vomit up a meringue, is that a boomeringue?

Today I have not left the property. I certainly haven’t put on outside clothing. If this entry comes of as convoluted cabin fever incarnate, we both know why.

On the subway yesterday, I sat opposite someone who reminded me of some kid from high school. Weird dude. He was both intelligent and socially incompetent. I don’t know that he ever really did anything menacing, but boy howdy was he watchlist-able. He’d constantly tell us how much he wanted to kill us or wish for our deaths (in more of a cartoon villain Mojo Jojo manner than actual threats). He’d make devices, often weapons, and bring them to school. There was the home made taser, some chemical (which may have and/or probably was chloroform), and the miniature rail gun he brought in for science class show and tell. It wasn’t deadly, but could fire a piece of paper clip from one side of the room to the other in a straight line. He had some little notebook that he wrote in a cipher. One of our friends managed to swipe it and decode it eventually. Nothing super incriminating, I feel like it was more the kind of thing he made to try and get attention. He was probably more lonely than legit evil, and I think that’s why we always gave him a pass. If he’s not an engineer by now, he’s probably a super villain.

I need to cut my toenails today. It’s been so long since I last cut my toenails, that my fingernails are probably ready for a chop. I’ve missed a whole cycle. It’s just that when I cut my fingernails it’s easy. I have two nail clippers at my desk (I brought my work one home and it hasn’t moved), and I can do it while passively watching something. Toenails are harder to remember. I’m often wearing slippers or something. Even if I’m passively watching something, I need to not be wearing anything on my feet, then bring my knee one at a time to my chin and often end up cutting on an angle, leaving me with mangled toenails. Then I need to ensure that a rubbish bin is wedged beneath my foot to catch the nail shards. Whether it’s a science or an art, it’s excessively not my forte. Which is why my big toe looks like it’s being forcibly cornered by a crescent moon.

I’ve been staring at this page (and, to be fair, procrastinating by looking at other pages) long enough that I think I’m done for the day. My brain has gone and I’m gonna commit to this toenail chopping business.

See you on the clipside, folks.