Hair Cut

I got my hair cut today at 4:00pm.
I took a picture of me with my new hair cut.

I went to a picnic and rode a motorcycle too.
What did you do today?

Living in Res

I got mail yesterday. Real mail. Not the fake e-mail kind. The real deal, paper envelope and all.
I actually got two pieces of mail but we're just going to talk about one.
Okay?
Good.
So it was a letter of acceptance to the resedence at Sheridan. It was a pretty boring read but I'm guaranteed a spot in the residence! How neat is that?

Personally, I think it's very neat. However, if all goes wrong, my residence experience could crumble like an old crumbly cookie. How? A crummy roommate. That's how. I mean what if I get stuck with a roommate with really flaky skin? I can't live with that, it's just not natural. How would you expect me to focus on my studies?
Second hand smoke is one thing but clouds of dry dead skin? It would plug my sinuses for sure. I'd have to have oxygen tubes up my nose all the time and I'd have to wheel one of those geeky oxygen tanks behind me. Sure the tubes would be transparent and the tank small, but everyone is still going to notice. "Hey look! There goes Oxygen Boy!". It would be horrible.

I want to be known as Benjamin - the coolest guy ever, not Oxygen Kid - can't breath right. It would end up in the year book too for the whole world to see. I would be forever scarred. Definatly wouldn't be able to hold a job, no one wants an employee with breathing problems nevermind rubber hoses up his nose. It's just something I really don't want to have to deal with. I already have enough trouble with my wonky knees, cracking like popcorn when ever I go up or down stairs.

At any rate, I'm sure my time at Res will be a hoot.

Snap-up Buttons

After visiting the small pet store I took off toward my next destination of the day, Old Navy.

As it is always is in the city it was a stop and go process all the way, what with the flashing red hands, never ending gradual inclines and jaw jarring three inch high 90 degree angle curbs not to mention the occasional pedestrian. Its a wonder the old ancient frame on wheels has survived as long as it has. Anyway, upon arrival I left the finely stitched brown leather dule springed seat of my Uncle's peddle bike and entered the cool air-conditioned mall.

Not long after my eyes had adjusted to the dim indoor lighting I found myself browsing through the hippest new styles of the summer. Armed with no scence of fashion direction I found it to be rather confusing. Determined not to leave empty handed I decided to like the white light-blue pin-striped snap-up t-shirt with a coller that I kept walking past. It hung nicely on the hanger, good lines, light weight material, reasonably priced, it was hip enough for me. So using the gift card I got from my Aunt and Uncle on my 20th birthday I bought it. Unfortunately, size small was too small so I stood in line again, returned it and bought a size large. The large was of course too large. With no medium sizes in stock I cashed in on the money back guarantee and in a huff, peddled back to the living room television.

It was somewhat disappointing yes but as least I got some fresh air and exercise. . . right?

Chess Champion

"Would you like to play a game of chess?" He asked.
"What?" I responded.
"Would you like to play a game of chess?".
"Chess?" I thought, "why would I want to play chess?"

With a smile on his face he tossed a pawn up in the air and caught it as if to say "look what I can do". At this point I didn't see I had much choice in the matter so I agreed to play, "just one" I said.

It was an aquard situation really, I didn't even know his name. Who did he think he was anyway, asking me a complete stranger to play a game of chess! It was aquard sure but I wasn't about to wimp out now. The 64 square battle field was set. I gritted my teeth, gave him a cold hard stare and made my first move. Things when down hill from there, he captured piece after piece wiping out my entire army leaving me with but a bare king. Everything after that was a blur. He was as smart as a whip. A champion.

I could have shrugged it off as a blunder but no, I was simply outplayed. Outplayed by the best no doubt. He had nerves of steel and a mind of metal.

Milkshake To Go

Seventy seven some odd days ago on February the twenty eighth during day light hours a mamouth GreyHound bus pulled up to a curb. A curb in a town called Crossfield.

Prior to this event of monumental proportions I, along with my kid brother Jeremiah, partook on the seven billion mile hike from a basement called home to the desolate bus stop. Each carrying a piece of luggage that seemingly increased in mass the further we traveled made the journey all the more painfull. Our arms literally burst into flames. . . except they didn't. They just really hurt. Before Jeremiah turned to go back home he offered a milkshake. I had an entire miniute or two before the scheduled arrival of the bus so off we went across the street to the Burger Barron. Impatiently pacing from the window to the counter were Jeremiah stood ordering the milkshakes of coldness I couldn't help but think, what if? What if I miss the bus? What if I already missed the bus? What if. . . my blood ran cold. The bus was there.
Waiting.
"The bus is here!" I stammered.
"Then GO!" Jeremiah shrieked, "go!".
So I, milkshakeless, went. Waving the right to look both ways before crossing, I walked speedily across the street to the bus. Finding my luggage unstolen and intact I handed Mr. Bus Driver Man my ticket and boared the bus. Milkshakeless.
Just as Mr. Bus Driver Man was about to kick the bus into hyper drive a tinted figure approached the bus, with a milkshake in each hand.

Long story short: I enjoyed sucking the cold, pail white innards of a cardboard cavity through a straw all the way to Calgary (home of the metal-minded chess champion). All thanks to the kindness and gererosity of my kid brother, Jeremiah. Thanks a million. And one.


Milkshakes.