Monthly Archives: May 2004

Re-Gifter

I’m a re-gifter and I don’t care who knows it. Some gifts are right for some peo­ple, and oth­er gifts are right for oth­ers. If some­one is thought­less enough to get me a gift I would­n’t use, I’m doing them a fuck­ing favour by find­ing a bet­ter per­son for it. Sometimes, the best gifts are sec­ond hand, when one knows that it’s right for one­self, but also knows that it would make some­one else even hap­pi­er.

Personal Horizon

Andrew and Alex are going on a back­pack­ing trip to Europe until the end of this month. They’ve request­ed a list of peo­ple inter­est­ed in receiv­ing infor­ma­tion and details about their trip, so nat­u­ral­ly I let them know that I’d like to have some doc­u­men­ta­tion dur­ing their jour­ney.

And while I under­stand their moti­va­tions for try­ing to have such an inter-per­son­al cor­re­spon­dence, I don’t under­stand why it has to be because of a trip.

Isn’t every­day life inter­est­ing enough to talk about? Can’t one learn as much on the bus ride to work as being some place com­plete­ly for­eign? I nev­er decid­ed to make an extra blog or some­thing for my trip to Hong Kong/China/Macau, even though it was still a some­what life-chang­ing event. To me, the month was anoth­er part of my sched­ule, some­thing I had planned to do. It was as sig­nif­i­cant as any­thing else going on in my life, or maybe I should say, any­thing else going on in my life was as sig­nif­i­cant as that. I hope I nev­er have to rely on trav­el to con­sid­er my life impor­tant enough to dis­cuss with some­one.

Perhaps, I feel like I still have so much to learn about every­thing else that I would gain as much just think­ing in the show­er as I would being exposed to new things. Every day can be excit­ing. Every sec­ond, there’s a chance to learn and grow. There are still so many things to fig­ure out.

And I prob­a­bly con­sid­er myself to be one of the biggest.

Not Here To Eat Or Read

Ever see those guys sit­ting alone in the pubs, with the same burg­er and fries, the same worn paper­back, the same pint in pil­sner? I have yet to see one of them who was­n’t creepy. It’s some­thing I can’t quite put my fin­ger on, but there’s a cer­tain qual­i­ty that just screams out, “NOT HERE TO EAT OR READ”. Maybe it’s giv­en away in tint of their beards, the scraps of food stuck to their faces, or the sort of laid-back, eyes-over-the-glass­es atti­tude.

How To Stop Talking

I come across so many peo­ple who love to talk about them­selves, their life sto­ries, what they saw on TV the oth­er day, how nice their man­i­cures are…every sin­gle bor­ing thing pos­si­ble. Half the time it’s just vent­ing, get­ting out what piss­es them off or what unfor­tu­nate stroke of luck befell them. Sometimes, I feel like telling these peo­ple about how easy it is to have a blog. That way, they can still get things off their chest, and save me the time of hav­ing to lis­ten to their bor­ing shit. Unless some­one is a friend, I don’t care. What is it about me that makes it seem as if I give a fuck? Why do peo­ple think they’re so impor­tant that any­one would be inter­est­ed in any­thing they have to say? It’s not like I start talk­ing about every lit­tle thing that piss­es me off, because I know that it’s bor­ing and I’m aware that no one cares.

Thank god I have this.