Anti-Mothers Day
Today has left me wondering why some people have children at all. While studying in the park downtown, I noticed an overwhelming amount of fathers with their children. After assuming that the first two I laid eyes upon were there merely as some kind of 'pick up' ploy... you know, using their cute children as women bait... I noticed a third and decided that it wasn't possible that all three had poor 'pick up' techniques. At that moment it became clear... ah, yes, it's Mothers Day. The one day that is a constant reminder that lets me know that I am, by far, too selfish to be anyone's mother. The thought of receiving only one day each year that allows me the freedom to put myself first, makes me quiver.
Some better findings;
While talking to Paul, the café manager, I mentioned that I was preparing for two french examinations; one oral and one written. His eyes sparkled as he proceeded to tell me about his long term goal of moving to Spain to work as a chef. He said the only thing stopping him has been his inadequate mastery over the Spanish language. I informed him that my french courses were indeed free and so too are the Spanish. I'll be taking him the telephone number the next time I return and perhaps, if he is a highly ambitious character, changing his life forever ... who knows.
Note to the other underwear changer, though probably doubtful to return;
It's not that I don't appreciate the finer details in everything, because I do. I believe that I suffer from both a desire to experience everything, while also remaining the 'perfectionist' and the 'expert' at anything and everything. When learning to knit... I needed to knit beautiful scarfs, not just purely functional. While learning to play the guitar... I needed to learn to read the music and understand the physical workings of the instrument, not just feel my way around it. And when I first move to a city... I need to get to know the occupants and its secrets... rather than living somewhere blindly remaining nothing more than a stranger. However, after a bit of time, or even years, everything gets stale.
Speaking of which, I have yet to post a french entry on my livejournal blog. Even the french is beginning to grow tiresome. I should get back to studying...
Note to c...;
I'm trying to make it to your show tonight. Keep your toes and eyes crossed, and maybe just maybe, I'll make it there.
Some better findings;
While talking to Paul, the café manager, I mentioned that I was preparing for two french examinations; one oral and one written. His eyes sparkled as he proceeded to tell me about his long term goal of moving to Spain to work as a chef. He said the only thing stopping him has been his inadequate mastery over the Spanish language. I informed him that my french courses were indeed free and so too are the Spanish. I'll be taking him the telephone number the next time I return and perhaps, if he is a highly ambitious character, changing his life forever ... who knows.
Note to the other underwear changer, though probably doubtful to return;
It's not that I don't appreciate the finer details in everything, because I do. I believe that I suffer from both a desire to experience everything, while also remaining the 'perfectionist' and the 'expert' at anything and everything. When learning to knit... I needed to knit beautiful scarfs, not just purely functional. While learning to play the guitar... I needed to learn to read the music and understand the physical workings of the instrument, not just feel my way around it. And when I first move to a city... I need to get to know the occupants and its secrets... rather than living somewhere blindly remaining nothing more than a stranger. However, after a bit of time, or even years, everything gets stale.
Speaking of which, I have yet to post a french entry on my livejournal blog. Even the french is beginning to grow tiresome. I should get back to studying...
Note to c...;
I'm trying to make it to your show tonight. Keep your toes and eyes crossed, and maybe just maybe, I'll make it there.
7 Comments:
c...;
sorry i couldn't make it. i'm studying hard and i'm enjoying your music from my living room. with the london music club in my backyard, i get many free shows with the pleasures of snuggling up on my warm sofa.
enjoy your tour and bring me back a keychain, a rock, or a picture of some locals (preferably the hobo kind).
by the way... i don't have your keys so we'll need to work something out in the morning.
I'll try to pick up some road signs along the way to add to your collction. I love the new one you hung in your shower. That one is the coolest.
Perfectionism and Expertise are virtues that I thankfully/regretfully have not been endowed with. I can only imagine what it’s like to combine those with the constant underwear changing (our original topic).
I remember a conversation with a friend a few years back. We had driven up to Quebec City from Bangor on a short winter holiday and decided to rent some x-country skis to cruise around The Plains of Abraham. I’ve skied for 15 years. My friend never had so I showed him how to strap on the skis and perform some basic maneuvers, like “stopping”, and we were off. We both had a great time playing around on the skis in the fresh powdery snow. Afterwards, he said that he really enjoyed x-country skiing and that he wanted me to show him all the right techniques.
“I already showed you everything that I know.” I said. “I just go out to have fun. Did you have fun skiing today?” I asked.
He peppered me with questions - “But what’s the proper way to turn on those slopes? How long should your stride be based upon the length of the poles? I think I could get better leverage if I were to have a firmer boot. What do the experts recommend?”
His last question completely floored me. “Why would you even do it if you don’t strive to be the best that you can at it?”
Whoa. I don’t begrudge him (or anyone) their point of view, but for me it is a completely alien approach to things. Sure, I could always be a better skier. Or a better soccer player. Or a better origamiist. Anyone can. But if I were to invest the time and energy into becoming the best skier and the best soccer player that I could possibly be, I wouldn’t have any time left for origami. And I’d surely get bored with skiing and soccer and stop doing them altogether.
Damn, get to the point already!
Ok, my (belabored) point is this: I have great admiration for the perfectionist and experts of the world. But I’d be just as happy simply knitting an orange and green, very plain, very functional scarf. First, I’d be pretty damned impressed with myself for having learned to knit, and second I assume that I need a scarf in this little scenario. So, I knit one. Bingo. Satisfaction.
Congrats on learning French! Can you give Paul a message for me? Tell him that some anonymous guy who you know nothing about showed up on your blogger and is highly recommending that he move to Spain (or any foreign country). And learning that second/third/fourth language while you’re young is the only way to go. I now find myself living in The Netherlands, an old fart of 39, trying to learn Dutch. Holy shit! Het is een moeilijke taal!
But the experience of moving to a new country has been priceless. Talk about changing underwear! I think that I’ll easily get 2 or 3 years out of this pair.
wow, you don't sound like an old fart to me! Old farts are just plain old grumy because they can't find anything else interesting to do.
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coco, thanks for taking care of the plants. I promise to keep visiting while I am on the road.
Dearest Underwear Changer;
I remember learning to cross country ski. I learned it, loved it, and then left it. It's strange how quickly these things happen. I was by no means an expert at the sport and this confirms my character to be somewhere much closer to the underwear changer than that of the perfectionist.
I'm thankful for this. For now I've moved on to rollerblading. I have the basics... don't use your toes as I would on ice skates, stop with your right heel, and stick to smoothly paved bicycle paths. Easy! Sometimes before leaving I throw a quick glance over to my bicycle and wonder if he misses me. I think I became frustrated with the fact I couldn't jump curbs somewhere between last summer and this... I thought I'd try my luck at rollerblading.
Merci beaucoup pour l'encouragement. Languages are difficult no matter the age unless you're under 5. As for you being 'an old fart of 39',I dare not say I guess that my previous partner was even older! Physics teacher by day, and guitarist by night... he had more energy etc. than I've seen in quite a long time.
I've passed the information on to Paul.He's not that young and therefore didn't find the age comment to be all that inspiring. I assured him that you meant 'the young at heart'.
I've heard Dutch is one of the more difficult languages, so I suppose the congratulations go to you.
C...;
It's funny that you should mention my affection towards road signs. Though my memory mostly fails me, it does have room for the memory of a bathing suit I once sported around in my early teens. It was my favorite... it consisted of a road sign pattern including everything from the stop to the yield sign, with a cute red x-crossed back. I'd rather you bring me back the bathing suit if you come across one that's similar... or a picture of some locals (preferably the hobo kind).
Hey, hey, hey ...
We have made it to winnipeg in just under 26 hours. We are staying at a co-op house tonight and the people are really cool, arst-fartsy types ... just like us. The house is this really old mansion with lots of dark wood and antique furniture that would set you heart a flutter my dear friend.
I have found a great road sign that you might like ... "night danger" what do you think, should I pick it up on the way home from BC?
can you steal me some of that furniture you speak so highly of????
the road sign sounds fantastic... we should think of someplace clever to put that. give me some time to think about it.
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