Self-improvement has been a goal I set for myself for as long as I remember, a sort of never-ending quest that I hope to find fulfillment in. It makes me happy to know that I have people to look up to, people my age whom I know. Being able to realize that even these people are human has helped me set more realistic goals for myself, instead of some quixotic ideals I could never hope to accomplish. Not everyone is the same, of course, and while I may look up to one person for their morals, I may look up to someone else for their confidence.

However, I judge how well I’m doing in my goals by comparing myself to people with personalities I can’t stand. I try to be as sanguine as possible, simply because I know someone who brings down everyone he hangs around with. I try to be open to other peoples opinions due to the fact that I know someone who refuses to accept anything but his own conclusions, as open-minded as those are. I try to have fun even when I’m losing a game, as difficult as that may be for me sometimes, because I know someone who becomes angry whenever they lose. I try to act affectionately but appropriately with people I’m involved with, simply because I know people who are either too desperate or too cold. I try to give as much space as is needed in my relationships because I know people who are exceedingly high-maintenance.

Whenever I see people act the way they do, I try to find the good in them. Sometimes I find both good and bad, but I focus on the good, a thing which comes easily to me, perhaps as a result of my zeal to become a better person.

Sometimes I find only bad, and it gives me more to work for.

The weekend was eventful in its uneventfulness. On Friday I took the bus back home, where John picked me up from the station and took me to his new house. It’s a pretty swanky place, with beautiful hardwood floors all around and a modern kitchen. We dropped off Dan before going to the cottage, which ended up being a two hour detour, and in all I spent about eleven hours traveling that day. John’s aged Ford Explorer, with its permanently flashing brake and engine warning lights, its odd clicking sounds while turing, and its massive shudders when traveling above 120 kph, had a new problem. A connection inside the steering wheel had fallen loose and the horn would sound randomly and sporadically whenever John made a turn. Unfortunately, John lives in Chinatown, and the horn would go off in the busiest streets possible. John would shake his wheel, veering us from one lane to another, in an attempt to turn the horn off, giving us crazy glances from pedestrians. Needless to say, I was quite embarrassed, being given the opportunity to ride shotgun. At one point in the trip, each vibration of the SUV had caused the horn to sound in lengthy intervals of staccato honks, and we ended up taking out the horn fuse from the fusebox.

The cottage sits directly on a beach, so there’s always a breeze coming off the shore, and the temperature is perfect in the summer. It actually cools down considerably at night, and we ended up building a fire and toasting some marshmallows under the black sky on Saturday. Lake Huron stretches out on the beach horizon, and the water, while white and foamy on shore, becomes a strong, vivid blue when looked at from a distance. The pale sky meets the water in a perfect line, forming a brilliant gradient of blue hues with tiny boats bobbing up and down in the distance.

Cottage time was spent lounging around, playing Euchre or Rummoli, watching movies or playing some PS2. At one point, I fell asleep lying on the beach, with the warmth of the sun on my body and the sound of gentle waves in my ears.

For me, each visit at this cottage is marked by the set of cousins who are there as well. There are five bedrooms, one with three beds and one with two beds, so accommodations are usually plentiful, although sometimes there’s so much family up there that people end up sleeping on couches. John, Julia, Grandma, and I were the only ones there for the majority of the weekend, although Heather came up for a day and a half, now separated from her husband, with her two beautiful daughters Jenny and Becky. I can really tell that Heather loves her children, a pleasant surprise from the so-common neglectful parents nowadays.

I left John’s at around 11:45 pm yesterday, took the midnight bus here, and arrived around 5:00 am, in time to talk to Jackee for a bit before going to bed.

Around the same time last year, the Canadian Womans soccer team were competing against the US in a final match in Calgary. I broke up with Christie. I bought John a PS2 with Virtua Fighter. John’s cousin was at the cottage with his dragon tattoo half finished and half payed for. John and Julia were going out. I hadn’t adopted Dolly yet. I had no job and no school.

I am still reading Moby Dick.

My parents want me to stay a week when I go back home, instead of heading straight to John’s cottage and coming back here. I’m not quite sure what to do. There isn’t that much for me to do at home, especially with John living far away and attending summer school, Darren working, and a frustratingly slow P200 in the study. I’ve been informed that my Uncle Eddie and Aunt Margaret are arriving tonight from Hong Kong, and that my parents would like for me to see them before they leave. I don’t really know these people very well, since we live on different continents, so getting to know them better after gaining some maturity would be nice. I wish Priscilla was coming too, so I could find out more about her. She’s a mystery to me, someone who doesn’t seem to share her thoughts or feelings, as if she’s grown bitter with her life but puts on a smile so she doesn’t raise any questions. I have a lot of respect for her scholarly pursuits and want to know more. I don’t know if I could last a week, bored at home, without WC3 to play with Jackee.

I’ll be missing Drew’s kegger this Friday, which is too bad because I’ll be missing another chance at seeing him drunk. Drew is one of those guys who doesn’t seem to get drunk that often, but when he does, he becomes slightly charismatic and talks without restrain.

I’ve been getting quite a few invites to camping trips and LAN parties, but unfortunately, having a ride is the key aspect. Only a few people have cars, and even fewer of them happen to be friends I’m comfortable with asking for a ride. It’s too bad, because so many things that I want to be able to do require an automobile. Even heading out to the golf course with Aaron is pain just because I’d have to lug my clubs on the bus. I’m not as desperate as Aaron to get one, but I’m sure I will be someday.

Living as a nocturnal being over the last week has caused me to sleep improperly. I wake up every three hours, drowsy and feeling exhausted, unable to fall back asleep again. This is the first time in my life that I haven’t really cared about my system too much. I only eat two meals a day now and go to bed between four and eight in the morning. It’s all worth it.

I’m thinking of buying Dolly a self-grooming arch because she seems to enjoy rubbing her cheeks against my stiff-needled brush. With the arch I won’t have to hold the brush against a solid surface for her, and she’ll be able to groom her whiskers whenever she wants. I set up a little perch for her at the sun room window so that she can look outside and smell the air. I made a little staircase for her using some milk crates and wicker baskets, but she hasn’t figured out how to use them to get to the highest point yet.

I watched Tricky Brains again yesterday. The only other time that I’ve seen it in my life was when I was too young to remember much about it. I do remember that I really enjoyed it though, and that it was one of the more emotional Steven Chow films. This is Chow at his best and the gags never stop coming.