A few weeks ago I noticed that much of my cars exhaust was coming out of the front. The exhaust manifold, I was told by a friend. “Only”, he said, “it’s strange that it isn’t making noise. If it were the exhaust manifold it should sound really loud”.

A few weeks later…

I hadn’t gone for a drive in my car for the sole purpose of perusing the scenery in the Fraser Valley for quite a while. I decided to check out an area in Fort Langley that I used to go to all the time years ago. Half way there, something happened that startled the people walking on the side of the road next to me. Then their kids stared at me when I drove by (and not for the usual reasons…).

[Enter the NOISE]

It turns out that my friends statement was rather prophetic. Damn. So now I am the proud owner of a Subaru which obnoxiously makes a sound something like a garbage truck on helium. When I coast, there is no sound at all, but every time I put my foot on the gas I am suddenly reminded of my obnoxious sounding vehicle.

Its not so much a noise as it is the loud, obnoxious sound of money soon to come cascading from my barren wallet to the greedy coffers of the dealership on the ground below. A runaway bobsled ride to hell.

[Enter the SERVICE DEPARTMENT]

So my next course of action was to call the dealership where I went through the AirCare fiasco (aren’t they all?). I set up an appointment and got a courtesy car because I will be damned if I am going to wander Richmond on foot aimlessly for 5 hours like I have before. Of course, this sets up the problem of parking the damn thing at SFU – with all the hoops I expect to jump through with the parking people. Unsuccessfully, perhaps.

I asked the service person that IF it WAS the exhaust manifold (either the gasket or the thing itself…), would I be negligent in driving my sonic pariah to and from school until Friday when its appointment time. Of course, this question was initially evaded, but once I pressed for an answer, I didn’t like the one that I got. “Actually”, Mr. Russell, “I am not sure exactly what an exhaust manifold is”. GREAT!! Ok, Ms. behind the front counter jockey, can you ask someone so that I could gain at least tentative assurance that my car would not suddenly go supernova during the week? I may have reworded the question slightly.

No, of course I couldn’t get this kind of advice, since they don’t give it until you are actually within their grasp. I didn’t really expect them to give me an answer, I just wanted to get some kind of assurance if I could, before I make the decision whether or not to ride the bus for the rest of the week. At 6 dollars a day, when I could have driven my car anyway, I would have liked the advice.

Not looking forward to Friday.

You lucky bastards – two updates in one day! Smile!

Since today was a beautiful day weather wise, I decided to blow off my classes. Actually, it wasn’t at all like that, its just the way that it happened. It seems that if you set your alarm clock for 7’oclock, you had better make sure that is AM, not PM, which I did not. Subsequently, I woke up at 9:00 (AM) – which is about half way through my calculus class. So I went to school anyway, and managed to get some good news, and some bad new. I had midterms last week, and one this week. The physics II and calculus II classes – I had assumed that I did really bad on them, or even failed. This is the way these things go. I was pretty sure that I did ok, yet not wonderfully, in my law and psychology class. Naturally, as Murphy’s law dictates, these assertions were hogwash. I got the lowest mark in the class in psychology (which I don’t really care about in a midterm that isn’t worth much – but it is an indication that I had better wake up), and I completely passed the average in physics, which I was dead sure I failed. In calculus, which history says my previous high mark on a calculus midterm ever was 60%, I completely blew the class average of 54% out of the water and got 80%. How this happened I am not sure, but all the studying I did might have had something to do with it, maybe. Wow.

As I started off on before, I missed my calculus class today. I decided to spend my time outside today because of the rare glimpse of sun that we had today. It was 27 degrees and completely clear – startlingly different than Wednesday which was very foggy (esp. at SFU) and about 12 degrees. Consequently, I studied outside today and fell asleep in the sun, which is why I missed my physics class. As punishment I am sure, I woke up with a devastatingly good sunburn. I generally decided long ago that, since I seem to be allergic to most sunscreens, that I just wouldn’t use it at all. I made the decision that the resulting rash/scratchy phenomenon was worth the risk of dying of cancer, a strategy which now that I am old(er) and wise(r) I should probably reevaluate or abandon completely.

I went hiking this afternoon for about 5 hours. This was fun, considering the weather, and wasn’t something I had done recently enough. All of my injuries (back, knee and ankle) completely ignored my activity, so everything was very pleasant. To top it off, I went somewhere I had never been before, so I got to explore a little of the mountains around Port Coquitlam a little more that I had before.

To continue off on the earlier assertion I had made a week or so ago about the people who obviously think they are more important than everyone else : I went to Safeway today. The two elderly people were proud of this cake they were buying, because it was on sale. Only , it wasn’t on sale, it was just on the wrong shelf (others were on sale). An argument ensued, which, I must admit, was quite entertaining. Apparently they thought that since the cake was on the wrong shelf, they should still be charged the price of the other cakes on that shelf. More arguing. Finally, the clerk asked if they wanted the cake because of what kind it was, or because it was on sale. On sale, they said. So the bright idea came forth that they get the kind of cake that was ON sale, and abandoned their current one. Everyone went home happy and I was entertained.

Go to the kitchen now and slop bubbling hot spaghetti sauce on your sunburn. I guarantee it will get your attention!

For the second time in my life I ate a the small WhiteSpot at SFU. Normally I like WhiteSpot food, but this place gives it a bad name. After the pickle incident a few years ago I vowed never to return. Today I did, and what I found in my burger was not something that I would normally want to consume. Let the title say the rest… Someone actually found their way to my site via AltaVista searching for : “the beatings will continue until morale improves”. Hmmm… I don’t remember writing that…..

Speaking of which, I am glad that a lot of my emails are not a matter of public record. I am aware that backups of my emails are stored on many different servers all over the place, but someone would have to want to read them in order to determine their contents. Jason and I write emails that are frequently uhmmm…. different. If I ever got into trouble with the law (again…) I hate to think if those emails were read. I frequently tell jokes of a sarcastic/weird nature that a lot of people don’t get. I can only imagine what sorts of fines/prison terms could be targeted against me if my emails were read, and accepted as truth.

Sorry, its a dot dot dot sort of day (…).

It is time for you to stop peeing on my shoes I have often complained here about the condition of public washrooms. Usually, however, I do not propose any solutions to such problems. This time is different, a piece of wood and a couple of L-brakets.

Sometimes the urinals in public washrooms are separated by pieces of wood, meant to shield unsuspecting people from adjacent, prying eyes (presumably). I think that this should be a lot more common because 1) this isn’t something that would cost a lot or take a lot of time to implement and 2) I am tired of having my shoes peed on. Yes, thats right.

I they would just put up those damn partitions this wouldn’t happen. Believe me, it was severe damper on my day today (along with a physics midterm) – and I was too shocked to say anything at the time. I will spare you the details.

I can understand when some drunken jackass has poor aim in a bar or something, but at school this seems somewhat out of place, and it pissed me off.

I don’t know exactly why it is, but I am getting increasingly frustrated with people in general. There are people that clearly think that they are the most important (especially when driving their cars – which I see every day). One guy in my calculus class this morning hung his legs over the seat next to me, and proceeded to listen to his walkman. This was sort of tolerable until he found a song he obviously liked, and subsequently “cranked” his walkman. This was clearly intolerable to many of the people around him, and someone finally pointed out that he might want to turn it down. Being the most important person in the class, he was understandably offended at the suggestion, and ignored it. I guess I will ultimately go nuts if I don’t figure out a way to ignore such things, like other people I have known, but this is something that I am finding hard to do. Crazy here I come!

This past week has been hard.

First thing that happened this week was that my grandmother died. I have lost my greatest fan. After the funeral I went to a party. This is what is technically referred to as emotional whiplash (EW).

This was a “I’m so happy you are finally moving away party”. The title was unofficial. The next day I helped my friends load their moving truck, and the following day drove 12 hours to Prince George. I now have a greater appreciation for how large BC is, and how much the Lower Mainland around Vancouver really is (visually) a nice place to live. Prince George is nice too, but some of the areas in between are rather desert-like, and not something that I am used to. I don’t think that I am a fan of bald mountains.

It is interesting to note the difference between physical and mental exhaustion. When your muscles hurt and you are physically exhausted, your brain may be working just fine. Mental exhaustion is different – your brain doesn’t work, but your body may. I think that attempting to roll a bookcase up the lawn instead of the sidewalk (stupidly) was an indication that mental exhaustion was an issue. Lets not even mention getting tables through doors. Then, suddenly, everything became funny and I didn’t care anymore. A good place to be.

Right now, I am mentally AND physically exhausted. A bad place to be.

12 hours in a vehicle isn’t as bad as I expected, which largely has to do with the company, excluding “that darned cat”. Getting back from Prince George was very easy, if you ignore the fact that when I land in a plane it feels like someone is stabbing knives into my ears, especially when the pilot makes like he is landing on an aircraft carrier. I flew on WestJet Airlines, cheap, efficient, and capable of a sense of humor:

“We have arrived in Vancouver because we gave pilot Phil too much coffee. If you’ve had our coffee you know what we mean!

You will find an in flight magazine in the seat ahead of you, next to the spilled soft drinks and abandoned cookies from the previous flight”.

Personally I liked this humor of the flight attendants, but not everyone did. The guy next to me didn’t (more on him later, he is an entry all of his own).

Well, apparently I an NOT dying, contrary to how I felt last night. I am still “alive”, allegedly.

The other day while driving to school I saw an interesting snapshot into other peoples lives. There is a park up the hill from where I live in Coquitlam where there are usually a number of taxi cabs parked. Why, I am not sure, but it is likely a place near where much business comes their way. I can only guess. The point, however, is not that the cabs were there on this particular day, but what was occurring “around” them. There were two young children, approximately 8 – 10 years of age. One boy, one girl. Their parents (presumably) were waving their hands and arms in the air at them. Words were audibly being screamed. The children were screaming back, and gesturing with inappropriate fingers. This may not seem remarkable, and indeed it might not have been with the exception of one point that I haven’t mentioned yet. The children were standing on the roof of one of the taxis. Hmmm…

At the point when I was driving by, the taxi driver (of the car in question) got out of his cab, and started waving his hands and yelling as well. I presume that this was not merely an imitation of the parents who were doing the same, but was also an effort, presumably, to get the little brats off the roof of his taxi. We can’t blame him there can we?

There was a small crowd gathered (8-10 people), mostly seniors who I often see walking in the area at that time of the morning. Apparently the pursuit of exercise can wait while an engaging melodrama unfolds upon the roof of a taxi. Since there was a crowd already present, it seems likely that there was some sort of spectacle in motion for long enough to collect about 10 people who were wandering by on foot. There were four vehicles in this particular parking area : the afflicted taxi, another taxi, and two vehicles that were not very well parked – parked at weird angles and one blocking in the “afflicted” taxi. Perhaps the parents arriving to remove their demon spawn from the roof of a car? I don’t know. In fact, I don’t know much of anything about what happened here, as it was merely something that I noticed as I drove by. The more and more I thought about it on the way to school, the more I wanted to know what was happening. Sadly, that won’t occur, and I can only dwell on the facts that I have already outlined. Damn.

Whenever friends or family get sick my usual response, albeit a silent one, is to reflect that I never get sick myself. I don’t get the type of cold that a lot of people do. At worst, I usually get the type of illness that can usually be attributed to a mild case of food poisoning – the 3 hour flu. This usually ends quickly, cumulating in a dizzying waterfall from hell, and positive feedback loop of gastric chemoreceptors locked in the “on” position . Then suddenly the world becomes sane again (relatively).

So when I rewired my parents television sets (they have three – and two VCR’s) and therefore delved into the land of 15 year old dust. Layers so thick that you need a pressure washer to dust it properly. Look behind YOUR television, what you find there is often a landscape of unspeakable horror. So this is what I found on Sunday, and the allergic reaction that I had to it seemed something that was not altogether unexpected. However, I didn’t really understand why my throat was so sore. I attributed it to an allergic reaction and nothing more. The next day I visited CatLand^TM, and the allergic reactions (broke the world record for sneezes in one day…) there were not unexpected as well, though were of a severity that brought notice from others.

It was all downhill from there.

The recently unprecedented : I am sick (and no longer just in the mental sense). I don’t remember being like this, having a cold, since somewhere in the middle of high school. That would be about 10 years ago. It wasn’t something that I missed. Now I am bearing the full onslaught of a viral tidal wave. The room spins, my head is full of bad things, my chest feels like a bus is parked on it. I can only imagine how much fun it is to sit near me in lecture, leaking and venting in the way that I am.

My current theory is that allergic reactions left the door open for the gleeful cold virus to come dropping in, unannounced. It then proceeded to scamper up the hallways of my body, filling every room with its vile presence. I guess I picked it up while sniffing and vulnerable from the people inhabiting CatLand^TM, but l prefer to blame my parents instead, as we all should.

I once read an article where the author chronicles all of the things that happened to them when they were sick. I remember them saying something like : “my body was so sore that I could feel each and every air molecule strike my body, and even my hair hurt”! I am not yet at this stage, and hopefully won’t reach it anytime soon. I often wonder why we claim to be ready to appreciate breathing clearly when we are sick, only to once again take it for granted when we are healthy again. I look forward to it.

I am writing this part a little later on…. is it possible to have the flu and a cold at the same time? I guess it probably is, because my cold symptoms are still here, yet the fever and dizziness are starting to invade me. Oh man, its going to be a fun night! I can only imagine what the inevitable conclusion of nausea is like when you have a head that is crammed full of swelling and all kinds of bad body fluids. Either I am on a really large elevator, or my balance is coming all undone. It’s not exactly a good feeling knowing that everything is about to get worse and there is nothing you can do about it. Lecture will be really fun tomorrow morning. Wish me luck.

One way to notice that you have hair that is too long is to hear people say cryptic things like: “Your hair is too long”! This happened a few weeks ago, but I sort of ignored it. Then I was driving on the freeway out to Langley, and I closed the sunroof because it was getting a little too much like a wind tunnel in my car. I have an electric sunroof, and I managed to close in on my hair. Needless to say, this was a little confusing initially, but once I had figured out what the hell was going on, I opened the sunroof. I sort of made up my mind at that point that my hair was too long, and got it hacked much shorter a while later. Why didn’t anybody tell me?

The other incident with my car last week was slightly more violent and destructive. I was traveling at about 60, and noticed that the car ahead of me had swerved into the other lane. Suddenly I saw this bird intent upon collision with my windshield. I was unable to avoid it, but it quickly made itself clear that it wasn’t a bird, it was a rock about the size of a baseball. This quickly got my attention. The car behind me immediately began honking, likely struck similar to the car ahead of me.

You know when you drive over a newly paved stretch of road and you get that agitated gravel sound on the underside of your car? This is what happened at that moment as well, except the road was not newly paved, and the source of my attacker was this big arrogantly blue dump truck. So I got mad. I u-turned immediately, which is not really my custom. I was angry, and intent upon getting some sort of license plate or truck company name so that I could have someone to yell at over the phone later on.

This obviously wasn’t the sort of case where I was going to confront the driver, I was merely going to get the license plate and company name. I never got the chance for either. First of all, driving behind this guy was like attempting to catch up to a hailstorm (and sounded something similar). I had to drive so far behind him that I couldn’t read anything off of his truck. When he stopped at a light, I tried to drive on the shoulder to read his plates, but it was one of those trucks that was so covered in crud that I couldn’t read a damn thing. I couldn’t get through the light at the same time as him either because there was a cop coming the other way and I didn’t really feel like running the light at that point in time (lights and sirens don’t end the day well). Out of options, I waited at the light and never caught up to him again.

What really pisses me off here is that I likely have to buy a new windshield for my car. A baseball sized rock traveling at approx. 60 in the opposite direction of my 60 wields some serious impact on a pane of glass. What is most surprising here is that while the igneous projectile left a sizable blemish in my window, none of the damage penetrated far enough through the glass to create any sort of disfigurement on the inside. Of course, that won’t console me when I am paying $200 for a new windshield (which actually costs 950, but insurance covers some of it). OF course, this isn’t money that I have.

Maybe its time to rethink that whole strategy I’ve got about never entering the lottery?

Some people can say that they have never had a near death experience. I am not sure what exactly defines such an occurrence, but It probably has to be something that comes in direct conflict with your body. For example, surviving a car crash that nearly kills you, leaving you recuperating in the hospital for quite some time would probably qualify. What about having a gun pointed at your head? This has happened to me, but I don’t really think of it in the context of a near death experience, just something that really quite sucked at the time. Had I been shot and nearly fatally “killed” I would probably be singing a different tune. Actually, I’m not singing at all right now, but you get the gist of my suggestion.

My question here is if you have to be actually injured in order to have a near death experience. What if you were on an airplane that was about to crash because the pilot had become incapacitated? Just at the last moment you were saved because Ted, the novice pilot in seat 13D stumbled to the front and landed the thing, saving everyone. Would this be a near death experience? The Microshaft flight simulator just saved the day. Again!

Let me digress for a minute from my point (debatable that it even exists). What is with the term near miss anyway (thinking of wayward planes…)? In order to miss, things don’t collide. So nearly missing would be colliding, but just barely (probably still significant at 30,000 feet though…). If two planes don’t collide, but come close to each other, everyone terms it a “near” miss. What kind of crazy language to we have anyway?

Back to our irregularly scheduled programming….

There was this “event” that happened to me many years ago. I will not bore you with the exact date and time. I was in south Langley in my car, driving around, aimlessly, as I customarily did before I had to worry about such things as rent, and actually paying for my own “food”. I decided to stop at Aldergrove “*Lake”, but had to park on the road quite some distance away (it was busy). I was walking and realized I had locked my keys in my car, went back and got them (I have spares stashed about my body because, well, this happed a lot, and still does). After I was on my way again, a flatbed truck rounded the corner, and a negligently secured toilet flung (flushed?) itself from the truck bed, landing about 5 feet in front of me, and smashing into a billion pieces (as these things tend to do…). Needless to say, I was startled. You can’t say that nothing good ever came of locking my keys in the car.

Maybe you have never seen your life flash before your eyes, never felt really close to death, felt the cold sweat fight its way to the surface of your skin, or seem past life experiences flash before your eyes like so many vacation slides. So I am guessing that you have never been an unwilling participant in a “near miss” with a airborne toilet. Still, would this be properly categorized as a near death experience? I wasn’t physically hurt, but one can imagine the carnage and mutilation that could come at the “hands” of a airborne toilet. A toilet (and it wasn’t one of those new “low flow” ones) weighs, well I don’t know how much a toilet weighs… but one can imagine it isn’t something you would want to land upon you when it is commanding a high velocity.

I have, among other things, been told that I think too much. Maybe they are right. I don’t think so, but an argument could be made that I think about the wrong things.

* Ah yes, the asterisk. Aldergrove “Lake” is a bit of a misnomer as well. Its actually a cement lined hole in the ground that is filled with water in order to have young children and silly adults swim in it and obtain bacterial infections. One year they drained the thing and found an entire cow in the bottom. Apparently, cows cant swim. Bummer.

Recently the price of going to a movie went up 1 dollar. That means that at a big theatre you now have to pay 11 dollars for an evening movie, and 7 for a matinee. This caused a small media stir when it occurred. Everyone was going on and on…. “how can we afford this now”?…. “that means that a movie really costs 20 bucks to see because of the popcorn and drink prices!”…. etc. Now what is the big deal here? I didn’t hear much complaining and bellyaching when the price was still 10 dollars, so does an extra dollar really make such a difference so that we all scream and cry foul? Personally, I may feel unaffected by this apparent travesty because I generally attend matinees. You see, I actually prefer to sit in a near empty theatre, though I do miss out on the fun of having people kick the back of my seat, chat to fellow idiots on their cell phones, or wave laser pointers with reckless abandon whenever “naughty bits” grace the screen. I also don’t buy things to eat at a movie theatre. If I am in a popcorn mood, I will eat that which hasn’t been cooked with motor oil or whatever the hell they use there. I have only purchased food in a theatre when in the company of others who… well… made it necessary (I am stupid, but not so stupid as to fight THAT one…). So what is my point? Do I even have a point? If you are going to put that much effort into complaining, you might as well complain about something that is important. A movie is simply not something that should be taken all that seriously, and if you really cannot afford to pay the extra dollar, rent the damn thing when it comes out on video the next week anyway!