Is this the end?

I hope not.

I do seem to have failed in the idea of somewhat daily posting here. Why is that? Well I could give all sorts of reasons, some, like me moving in two days might seem like reasonable ones. The truth though isn't quite as.

Though I am indeed moving, and have been packing this last week, I haven't been at it nearly hard enough to not have time to write a little something about anything. Heck, if I've spent more than two hours an evening packing, I would be surprised. Yet, I have managed to pack it all, more or less, and with some luck it will be over and done with by the weekend.

I could also site work as reason. What with it being a fairly physically demanding job, and me being a not so perfect fit for such physical labour, and being a bit short staffed at times, I often get home in a very exhausted state. But this isn't a good reason either. Sure I am tired, but if I can manage to chat for a couple hours after, I certainly can manage to write a little something about anything.

One real possible reason is my slightly lethargic nature. I'd go into detail, but there are friends out there that might not want me degrading myself so.

But I do have one plausible explanation. I haven't any inspiration. To be more specific, nothing has struck me of any importance to be worth a post in the last little while. This is actually quite possible, as I usually think of something worth saying when out and alone, possibly on the way to work or such. However, with the move happening, my thoughts have been very preoccupied. Everything from switching the phone to how many boxes I need, to making sure I can get some people to help me has been going around and around in my head this last week or so. All this has really made me to thinkingish to actually let my mind wander far enough to come up with something worth blogging.

So there you have it, a half reasonable answer to my poor updating. Hopefully, this weekend, or the next, I will have had enough time to unpack, unwind, and de-think. So to anyone who actually is reading this (a small, select group I suspect) never fear! I will return.

And with a lot of luck, I might catch sight of a moon bagel in the adventures of the move.

Life becomes quiet.

Well, is rather, not becomes.

So there is a new guy at work, and with me being the only "regular" guy at the yard, the rest being either the foreman or the drivers, I spent most of the time with him today. It was probably not the best decision on anyone's part. The guy was not very talkative; perhaps because he was new, perhaps that is just how he is, I don't know. But he wasn't chatty, and neither was I. So I suspect that the guy didn't learn as much on his first as others have. Perhaps if he had been with one of the more talkative fellows, he would have made some good conversation. But with one silent fellow, I guess it wouldn't work.

I am not a talkative person. In really relaxed situations with either close friends, or some family, I can be about an average talker. However, put me with people I am only partly familiar with and I do not talk lots. I let them tell the stories and just add the occasional "huh" or "yeah" or "oh". I also do not speak very loudly at all, and definitely not when not in a relaxed environment. I have to repeat myself, in order to be heard, several times a day at least. It's strange, because I distinctly remember being a kid and being told to quiet down many times. Perhaps this is why? This makes me a very, very good employee, at least, real good in the sense that I will do as I am told. I do not question authority much and am more than willing to do as told, within reason. In fact, I am often lost when forced to make the calls. I wonder if this would make me a good soldier? Meh, too risky to risk.

But yeah, me, real quiet, both in volume and quantity of talk. I just never have much to say. Often some of my fellow employees will make a good-natured joke at/about me, (I don't mind this) and I will just sit there and smile. I sometimes wonder if they think I am taking the jokes badly, with my lack of a witty retort. I can't say. I don't reply to this because I just don't know what to say.

I also am finding that even with the family, I am talking quieter, and not saying very much. This might just be the result of having finally moved out, who can really know? But I do find that even when I have a good conversation going, I stumble over what I say, and at least 1 out of 5 times I ruin a good story or joke I am saying because of it.

One of the root causes of all this is that I have a hard time getting the words out. I think a lot. Not about important stuff, but I can spend a whole 2-4 hour car ride just thinking....or sleeping. But I am a thinker, and when I have a conversation, I know in my head how I want to respond, but when I try and actually speak it, it gets garbled, and either I end up saying things in a more bumpy and less flowing fashion, or I actually get words mixed up. I can think things in a very concise manner, but when I say it, I sound a bit boring, and definitely say it in a more cumbersome manner. This also affects my writing. Sometimes I will have a brilliant idea all worded out in my head, but when I put it to paper or keyboard, it morphs into something less comprehensible and more vague.

Why this is, I have no idea. I don't think it has always been this way. If I had to guess, I would say that it might have something to do with me moving out, or with my somewhat small social life. Both factors make my conversations fewer. Is the answer as simple as this? That is the real question.

So I guess I must just plough on, as I am, and try and speak as best I can, and to remember to speak up. It gives me a challenge and something to work at. Maybe a moon bagel is hidden in my vocabulary somewhere, that would be a sneaky hiding spot.

It all comes down to a point.

Hey, that was actually a rather clever post title, eh?

First off, in order to set the mood, let me explain a few things. I love J.R.R. Tolkien's work. I've read the Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, Unfinished Tales and the Silmarillion more times than I can count. (Granted if I actually had started counting this might seem more impressive) I just love it. The Lord of the Rings is truly my favorite novel. I just finished reading it again last month, and it was, I think, the best time I had ever read it. I was in such an awed state of mind after that I almost cried with the desire to live in Middle-earth. I don't read the books, I drink it in, I absorb it. The depth of the world, more than the characters, is what really gets me in. To me, Middle-earth is so real that I really do believe it happened many ages ago.

That being said, I absolutely HATE the movies. Well, to be more specific, as a part of J.R.R. Tolkien's legacy, I hate, hate the movies. As works of cinema, I think the movies are some of the best. But as an extension of J.R.R. Tolkien's work, they suck worse than the entire vacuum of the universe. Okay, breath deep, eee.....aaa......eee....aaa.

So you have a vague idea on my standing on J.R.R. Tolkien's works, right? Now for the point of this rant. J.R.R. Tolkien's elves do not, repeat, do not have pointed ears. I am, I deeply, deeply fear, one of the few people to take this stance. By the way, the reason I am even writing this is because of a conversation had in the Classic Castle Chat. I felt misunderstood and alone. So anyway, elves don't have pointed ears.

The reason I think this view was started was by watching the old animated movie from way back when. In it, I never saw the elves as having pointed ears. I don't know actually if they drew the characters like that or not. But in my mind, I saw elves without pointed ears. This mentality stayed with me until it was fully engraved in my mind. I got this mentality I think because I hadn't yet been exposed to the World of Warcraft/anime/ninjaish/modernish view on elves. My limited contact was on the older, medieval Christian style, as it were. My elves live in proper castles sometimes, have real houses (not glorified arches) and always, always have straight swords. Okay, not MY elves, per-say, but my vision of J.R.R. Tolkien's elves.

Here comes my evidence. So basically you have the older medivalish straight sword version of elves, and then you have the modern, curvy, World of Warcraft (at least I think WoW is at some level a medivalish game) slim, trim, pointy eared and hot elves. The latter style wasn't really even around when J.R.R. Tolkien wrote his works. So you tell me, which do you think inspired him more?

I've always felt that J.R.R. Tolkien didn't intend the distinction between elves and men to be so tangible. To strictly take physical features into account, I imagine the two races to be more or less identical. Elves are a fairer race. Not necessarily meaning their physical beauty, though J.R.R. Tolkien does seem to imply that elves are on average more attractive than men. Their fairness though is more than that. Like I said, not so tangible. Rather, an air, a sense about them. A man couldn't always tell an elf right off the bat, or at least so I gather from the Silmarillion, but to those with keen sight, one could tell an elf by the sense of age and wisdom of another era about them. At least, the men of the first three or four ages could.

I fear though that man is not how he was all those ages ago. If you or I were to come across an elf today, we would pass him by, as just another person, and not because he chopped his ears off. We might though look at him as someone to be respected, even though we don't know why. That’s how I envision elves as. A race with intangible differences from man.

Young love.

Do you ever get all sentimental about the thought of young love? Ever smile quietly to yourself as you think about a pair of young people finding each other in this troubled world? Does a warm feeling come over you as you imagine them giving each other strength as they face the world's problems? I know I do.

And then I look outside. Poof! Like magic that warm feeling vanishes like summer wages. Driving to work I see a young couple walking down the street. The young lady telling about her plans to go to college in the fall. How she feels that life is about to get a lot better, and how he means so much to her. And he, he is texting on his cell phone. Gah!!!

Or the other time, I see another the young couple, this time with a baby in the stroller. Though many influences tried to get them to do otherwise, they had the baby and will do their best to look after it. The mother lovingly pushes her baby, ever now and then talking to it gently. She looks at the father and smiles happily. And he, he is half a block ahead on his BMX bike.

Now I'm not saying that this problem is only prevalent in guys, I just have seen these examples, though I am sure something of the reverse has happened many times.

My point is that sometimes young couples are so unromantic that it's painful to watch. I know that if I ever have a girlfriend, you can bet I will not be texting on my cell phone (this being a possibility only if I ever actually acquire a cell phone). And if my possibly future wife and me ever take our hypothetical child for a stroll, I most certainly will walk with them.

This is I think, the result of kids dating at way too young of age. While I am not really much more than a kid myself, I count this as one of many good examples why people should not get involved until they are adults. If a person is going to act like a kid and ignore his/her significant other during their alone time, then he/she should not have started dating in the first place.

If I might be so bold as to make the claim, I think today's society is as much to blame as anything else. Kids get the message sent to them via media and entertainment that dating is cool and should be done ASAP. Why, I remember when I worked at the library that a 10 year old (or maybe younger even) thought he had a girlfriend. This idea leads to many problems, not least of which is the entire premarital sex issue. I would like to believe that if people would hold off on relationships until they are mature adults, then less premarital sex would happen. Granted, this wouldn't by far solve the problem, but that’s getting a bit off track. Where was I?

Now I am not saying that dating in high school is completely and necessarily bad. I won’t and can’t say that it will end badly. I won’t even say that there is any moral issue here. I could find it quite acceptable for people to date, IF, if they are mature enough to properly manage the situation. Far too many kids do not mature until well after graduation. Heck, if my drunken neighbours are any sort of example, maturity can take a long time after high school to appear. So basically what I am saying is this: Kids, stop "dating" until you are old and mature enough to fully comprehend what you are doing, so you can do it properly.

A quick assortment.

As I lay my head to sleep, literally (well not quite, but as soon as I finish this), I have a few random thoughts and feel I might as well post them afore they vanish into the nether world of lost thoughts.

Artificial lighting. If this didn't exist, then I would not be writing this, rather, I would be asleep, getting rested for another day of work. Is this a good thing? Who knows really, but I am up later than I should, that’s for sure. And possibly if there were no light out, the drunken idiots who abode in this apartment complex wouldn't be so active when people are trying to sleep.

I am a tired person by nature. The packing for my move is going along at a snail's pace. This evening I taped three boxes, which were mostly full already. In fact, one of them I had already taped, and had to open again to get a receipt. At this rate I will have a hard time getting out of here on time.

Does having an open window all day long in the same room as my computer affect it's performance? I wish I could get motivated to do stuff after work, I might actually clean out the computer then.

News organizations are truly one of the strangest things the modern age has brought around.

Perhaps a more comfortable chair would be worth investing in when I get settled.

I know I had more thoughts. I just know it. They were there like, two minutes ago. Ah well, it’s too late for me to try and recall them. I must get to sleep. Work has been tiring enough without any lack of sleep.

Hmmm, perhaps some of these thoughts are worthy of their own individual posts. It's something to think about.

Painful Business.

Moving is a painful experience, especially if you live on the third floor of an elevatorless building. All the hauling of junk you don't need, to the unpacking of said stuff, to the experience of getting used to a new abode. I have this time however, found a new source of pain. Lego.

Or more accurately, the lack of Lego. While my bricks are still with me and will indeed be moving to my new place, getting their own room in fact, I cannot build with them for probably close to a month. Having just finished sorting and reorganizing all the bricks, I felt it was not in their or my best interest to go making a mess again just as I am moving. Therefore, once the sorting was complete they have remained untouched by me, just sitting in the corner tormenting me with ideas. When in the next week or two I actually move into the new place, I doubt that I will immediately get to using them. What with still working, unpacking, and being in a tired/lazy state, not to mention the adventure likely to ensue with trying to set up an actual Lego room, I doubt much will be done until August.

This pain was brought back to sharp focus today when I watched footage from the recent Lego convention, Brickworld. Seeing all these cool people showing off all their cool stuff really made me want to get building. Oh the pain!

Still, this pain could theoretically make me actually want to get moving. I hate change, and moving is about as big of change as one can have happen. I am scared stiff at the thought of living elsewhere, in some strange place that probably has a crime rate only slightly lower than the bad parts of New York, with neighbors in the building who probably get drunk and beat up each other each night. Yes, I am paranoid. Of course, the biggest worry some thought is that my sister will be moving in with me. Though we get along fairly okay these days, of all my siblings relationships, ours has had the worst, most hate filled, evil, etc moments. Even now, with us both adults, friction does happen. Strangely, I have noticed that it happens more often when we are in the company of others. For whatever reason we seem to get along better when on our own. This I suppose gives hope for me, as we will be living alone.

What really sucks though is that my Lego can't be used at the moment.

Canada, eh?

Seriously, can you think of a more trite title than that? What can I say? This monologue will have dippings into Canada Day. Having Canada in the title isn't that bad, is it? Meh.

For those of you who don't know, Canada Day is the Canadian version of July 4, Independence Day as the American calendars call it. Canada Day is much the same thing. It is the nation's national (something here seems redundant) holiday. Celebrating....well something. Unlike the States, which actually have something worth commemorating, the final defeat of the British, the signing of that big piece of paper from Nation Treasure, or something like that, Canada to my knowledge doesn't have anything worth celebrating. I guess theoretically there is that whole "Birth of Nation" thing, but its so hard to make a national holiday meaningful when the nation was created bloodlessly (more or less)........



Hmmm, well I was going to go on and on about how lousy Canada Day is. But that's rather negative sounding, and I do have problems with being overly negative sometimes. So, lets move on to something more positive.


Moon bagels! Now there's something that gets us all smiling. When I started this blog, it was with a bit of a plan to report on my progress on the hunt. Lets see, I started this (checks) last Friday. Dang, this only makes four posts in six days. Well I guess updated daily is something to strive for. Anyway, since Friday, the only moon bagel sighting I had was on Saturday at my sister graduation. The very fact that it was my sister's almost eliminates the possibility of a moon bagel; me and her having a somewhat strained relationship. Let us hope we can overcome any difficulties, since I will be living with her in a month or two.

So yeah, the grad went pretty well, and was followed by a dance. I do not dance. Mostly by choice, as I just lack the confidence and bravery to do it, but also a bit by circumstances. I believe I am tone deaf. I might not be, but I do know that I can't pick out a beat in song. Or if I can, I can't move to it. And yet, I would dearly like to be able to dance. If I could but overcome my fear and get out and do it (assuming a girl magically sensed my desire, as the whole prospect of asking one is a whole other issue), I imagine I would have fun. Perhaps if I acquired a new set of friends that know nothing of me, perhaps I might be able to. Anyway, so here I am at a dance, just sitting and talking with such people as I could find. Always in the back of my mind is the desire to be out on the floor, and that I believe is where the moon bagel was hiding. I think if I could have got out and danced the night away, I might have caught it. Alas though, my fear was too great a thing to overcome. Them moon bagels are smart things. They sure know how to pick a good hiding place, and you can bet that if I ever do dance, the bagel will be elsewhere.

The glance was fleeting, as I was quickly enveloped by concerns about the after-dance party. Still, good to know moon bagels are out there, waiting for the right brave and brilliant person to find them.


The fireworks weren't so bad either.