Posts in category "Daily Life"

With A Lot On The Mind

I haven’t been sleep­ing well late­ly. At night I wear an anti-brux­ism splint (made of ther­mal active mate­r­i­al to elim­i­nate met­al clasp­ing), and this pre­vents the occlusal sur­faces of my teeth from wear­ing down. Unfortunately, this does­n’t pre­vent the actu­al act of grind­ing, and some­times I still wake up with lock-jaw.

Ever since the begin­ning of the year, things have been along mov­ing quick­ly, both good and bad. On top of that, most of it has been hap­pen­ing all at once, leav­ing my emo­tions in a rather unset­tled state.

Everything feels like it’s some duo­tone greyscale.

It’s not that any­thing is wrong, but there’s been a lot on my mind, espe­cial­ly with the upcom­ing move. I have to get the walls trimmed and washed before paint­ing them. I have to get the locks changed and dim­mer switch­es installed. I have to find the per­fect desk and reclin­er for my room. I have to make sure that the phone and cable is installed. I have to adjust to a new set of month­ly (some­times bi-week­ly) pay­ments for insur­ance, hydro, heat, con­do man­age­ment, mort­gage, and prop­er­ty tax. I have to relax and take one thing at a time.

Hopefully, things will be set­tled by mid-April.

The Keys To The House

Thumbnail: Keys to my house

The trans­fer of keys is the very last step in buy­ing a house. Aside from all the steps involved in actu­al­ly pur­chas­ing one, to get a set of keys means the com­ple­tion of many things. A con­sol­i­da­tion of one’s funds (deposit­ed in trust, post­ed on file, ver­i­fied by accoun­tants). The pay­ment of all par­ties involved (lawyer for legal fees, gov­ern­ment for land trans­fer tax, insur­ance com­pa­ny for title insur­ance, as well as the sell­er for the full amount of the house). A record in the munic­i­pal min­istry of the trans­fer own­er­ship (once the lawyers of both par­ties involved have paid for an exe­cu­tion clear­ance cer­tifi­cate).

The keys sig­ni­fy that the deal has been closed, and noth­ing has gone wrong between the time of pur­chase and the day of trans­fer. Usually, I wor­ry about things going wrong, even when there’s only a mar­gin­al chance, and I have a com­plete under­stand­ing of this fact. When some­one shakes my hand after an inter­view to con­grat­u­late me on get­ting the job, I’ll wor­ry for days, right up until I get my name on the con­tract. This was no excep­tion. Anything could go wrong — sell­er chang­ing his mind, hid­den law­suits or liens, or even a fail­ing of the final inspec­tion — from the day I made the bid to the last min­utes of the clos­ing date.

Yesterday, I walked into my lawyers office. I car­ried with me a cer­ti­fied cheque that was most­ly my down­pay­ment, but also includ­ed his fees and tax­es (I’m for­tu­nate enough to not have go into my line of cred­it to pay for the lat­ter two). I signed sev­er­al doc­u­ments, received my sta­tus cer­tifi­cate and con­do papers, as well as oth­er let­ters of con­fir­ma­tion.

Today I picked up my keys, and now I own a house.

Heavy Snowfall Warning

Winter view from my apartment

A strong Alberta clip­per will track south­east over south­ern Ontario today into upstate New York tonight. Snow heavy at times has spread right across the Ottawa Valley into Québec and will con­tin­ue through­out the day.

Snowfall rates have often been 2 to 4 cm per hour with this very strong clip­per.

Freezing rain and ice pel­lets have moved into the St Lawrence Valley area east of Brockville late this after­noon. A sharp Arctic cold front will blast through the regions this evening as the clip­per sails into north­ern New York state. Temperatures will plunge up to 10 degrees to well below freez­ing with­in the first hour after the front goes through. As a result: rain in the regions east of Lake Huron and south­east of Georgian Bay will change sud­den­ly over to snow or flur­ries with untreat­ed sur­faces quick­ly becom­ing icy and very slip­pery.

Elsewhere the snow and freez­ing rain will pull out of the regions this evening as the clip­per and sharp Arctic cold front moves into north­ern New England and south­ern Québec. Snowfall amounts of 15 to 20 cm are like­ly in the snowsqualls along with white­out con­di­tions from blow­ing snow.

Dangerous trav­el­ling con­di­tions are expect­ed due to very low to at times nil vis­i­bil­i­ty in heavy snow blow­ing snow and icy con­di­tions. All trav­ellers should exer­cise extreme cau­tion and adjust plans accord­ing­ly.

My most vivid mem­o­ries of the spring are from high school. About a month before exams began, every guy would start spend­ing a min­i­mum of thir­ty min­utes look­ing out the win­dow every day. On the south­ern side of the main build­ing would be a small foot­ball field, and two soc­cer fields, as well as the ten­nis courts, hock­ey rink, and large swim­ming pool. Three more fields used for var­i­ous oth­er sports, such as lacrosse, crick­et, and field hock­ey, could be seen on the west­ern side. At the north was the base­ball dia­mond, as well as the small pool, and more ten­nis courts. The main gates of the school prop­er­ty, what many con­sid­ered a tri­umphant walk away from the main build­ing after a day with no spares, was at the east.

What male teenag­er would be think­ing about any­thing but run­ning through the wood­en halls, throw­ing off their tie, and rolling in the lus­cious­ly green, well-man­i­cured grass? In a school with a lack of females, no less. Add to the fact that a sig­nif­i­cant por­tion of alum­ni pride is put into a well-fund­ed sports pro­gramme, and the result was class­es of boys bot­tling testos­terone, encour­aged by teacher and coach alike to be released in the form of phys­i­cal activ­i­ty. (I find sports metephors very use­ful for mak­ing veiled sex­u­al ref­er­ences.)

I could see it in every one of them, how dif­fi­cult it would become to con­cen­trate in class, instead of imag­in­ing how the hours after school were to be spent. But it was nev­er like that for me. While every­one else was wait­ing for the fields to thaw, I’d be wait­ing for the snow the fall. It’s days like these that make it hard for me to con­cen­trate.

All I want to do is stay at home wrapped in a blan­ket, watch the snow col­lect, and write.

Sick Of This Place

I switched from day-old crème brûlée to calo­rie and sug­ar-free sparkling sum­mer peach bev­er­age. The week­end usu­al­ly has me drink­ing var­i­ous com­bi­na­tions of liq­uids, includ­ing hon­ey water and cof­fee with half and half. It’s dif­fi­cult to under­stand how nor­mal it becomes to alter­nate between drinks while under the right influ­ences, like only being able to take a swig from a bot­tle of vod­ka dur­ing a hang­over. Sobriety makes the sens­es aware.

This place has become sick and unin­spired. I miss liv­ing at Lees, with the edge of the down­town core, as well as my uni­ver­si­ty, out my 8th floor win­dow. I do have a nicer view here, espe­cial­ly since I’m liv­ing on the 16th floor now, but it’s not on my side of the apart­ment. What I see is most­ly con­struc­tion, aggra­vat­ing colours, and unmatch­ing wood grains. I put on dif­fer­ent movies to absorb their moods.The raw, open-air feel­ing of 12 Monkeys. The emo­tion­al, effu­sive set­tings of the every­day in Bleu. The psy­che­del­ic adven­tures of Army Captain Benjamin Willard through the humid jun­gles of Vietnam in Apocalypse Now. Nothing ever works.

I can’t wait to move. I can’t wait to give my room the per­fect mood. I can’t wait to get a nice, sleek desk. I can’t wait to cre­ate three per­fect lev­els of light­ing. I can’t wait to have a place where I can com­plete­ly relax, sur­round­ed by the com­fort­able feel­ing of a well fur­nished room.

Memories Of Manson

I was lis­ten­ing to Manson’s sec­ond album, Antichrist Superstar, for the first time after a sev­er­al year hia­tus on the bus to work this morn­ing. I was remind­ed of how much I went through with this album, for most of high-school and near­ly two entire rela­tion­ships. How com­fort­ing this music was for me, on the jour­ney home from my exhaust­ing class­es and elit­ist class­mates. It’s the only good album Manson ever put out, and also hap­pens to be the only album that Trent Reznor pro­duced for him. I’m will­ing to bet that it isn’t sim­ple coin­ci­dence.

I nev­er real­ly get a chance to lis­ten to these songs; even though I con­sid­er the music to be met­al, the songs are too dark and moody to fit into my met­al playlist. It’s the same thing with Tool. Aside from Opiate, which was just an EP anyway,Tool’s music has nev­er fit into any spe­cif­ic genre to me. They have a met­al feel and pro­gres­sive rock ele­ments, but are nev­er enough of one or the either to fit into any of my playlists.