Hello, hello. I'm so very sorry to have kept you all waiting. I'm sure some of you may very well have thought that I had been ravaged by a one hook handed man on route to my destination. Others may have thought that I went back to a time before there was internet. Others still might have just figured that I was shirking on my duties or just being plain old lazy (which I have been classified as in the past, but this is not the case in this situation). A few of you might not have even been paying attention to previous blogs or other such online indications of my whereabouts or soon to be whereabouts and therefor think that I am still here. When in fact, I am now there. Which has now become the new here, while you are in a location that was previously named here but is now named there.
Sound confusing? Such is only one description that can be given to my life. Obviously you are out of the loop at any which rate and must carefully hop back into the loop without disrupting the equalibrium of the loop that is currently in motion as we speak, lest you wish to cause a catastrophic chain of events that will ultimately result in you being labeled as a klutz....and nobody wants that. Especially your mother, who up until this point had thought she brought you up right.
Now there are many ways that I could bring you back into the loop. A pie chart for example. well. Maybe not. But point form would work. I don't think it would be near as interesting for you, my loyal or maybe not so loyal readers (I know who you are...deserters!). But just in case you do not believe me...
- give a play by play account of what occurred.
- tell a story.
- write a play in which Gavin tells the story of our journey in the form of a
monologue.
- add some violence and nudity to said play as statistics prove that is what people
want to see and would be more likely to sit through the entire presentation if this
were the case.
- etc.
- etc.
See? told you. But a story...yes. That sounds like a good idea. Non-Fiction, obviously. Although...maybe not. Just to spruce things up a wee bit. Sort of like 'Self'. Yes. No. Maybe. One might have to think: If a movie were to be made based upon these writings, would I want it to come off like Big FIsh? or something more documentary-ish...mockumentary? Either which way, I will do my best to avoid clichs and bad story telling technique. But I make no promises. Right. So a book. A title? hmm. yes. we will need a title. Dedications? perhaps. But one always runs the risk of making others feel left out when not included in such circumstances (almost as though they directly shaped you into the person that you now are, which allowed you to create this fine story, or gave you the support financial or otherwise that got you through those rough times...etc. etc.). After that we must develop a loose plot and jot them down on post it notes when I will then cover my entire apartment with. Keeping the loose plot lines that I feel will be relevant to this story, and discarding those that would not be. A good begging/middle/and end are essential. The in-betweens are merely filler to get us to where we want to be. Or is it? Is it the end or the journey to the end that makes a story? Should it be reversed? Should we have open the book-filler-good story-filler-more good story-filler-close the book?
It all started on a dark and stormy night...no...this starts our journey much to far away from what you are missing out on...*crumples post it*....although, it should be noted that if I were to start my story when I was born it would not actually start out as 'It all started on a dark and stormy night'. It would actually start out something like this: It was late, on this the thirteenth of Friday; nineteen eighty, when our story begins....a calendar year..no...we need to go closer. *zoom in* Canada. *zoom in* Alberta *zoom in* Edmonton *zoom in* Grey Nuns Hospital *zoom in* Maternity Ward *zoom in* wait....rewind. We're not at the Maternity Ward just yet....wait...you passed it. Stop. There. See that? That was my mom being rushed to the doctor...I'm about to be born premature. Follow them, follow them! Aw man...they shut us out...I can't believe this...we're missing my own birth here. Well...not really. There were some complications. Oh oh! Quick look there! A police officer is pulling a gun on a doctor! Great Mother of Pearl it's still Friday the Thirteenth! Did you see that....wha? book? nono...this is the flashback department. I'm the omnipotent voice....you obviously made a wrong turn, and your eyes obviously don't support the latest flashback upgrades, which would explain why you're only reading this as if you were visually impaired; and not actually seeing what was going on and hearing my voice....*steps out of flash back department*
Awkward.
At any rate, our story isn't beginning at the point in time where I physically entered this world in my current form. Our story begins some twenty six years later, in the midst of emotional turmoil and the worst ska drought in recent memory (in Edmonton, Alberta). And...man. I'm bored of doing this already. Saw a cute girl dancing in the crowd. I was dancing and dripping in sweat. I actually talked to this cute girl (using something that I found in my coat pocket at an 'in') and we exchanged phone numbers. Fast forward to a date that involved giving flowers to winning the two coolest prizes in punk rock bingo to watching her play indoor soccer to gift exchanging to making her cookies to dressing up as a pirate to getting kicked out of a bar for pooping (in the designated poop area) to getting drunk to calling in sick to breaking up to getting back together to zombie movies to making balloon flowers to googling how to put out a grease fire to her moving away to it being alright for me to move away to be with her.
Lost? That's alright. As you can see, I've obviously given up on the book idea. That is just way too much work for the likes of me. I have a short enough attention span as it is and you obviously don't care for this filler anyways and just want the dirt. So here it is...Around mid september it was decided that I was officially moving to Toronto for the beginning of october. This however, left very little time to get a lot done. As such, things got very hectic and well...if you didn't find out till just now, I'm very sorry. I'm a bad friend. If you didn't get to see me before I left....see the last sentence. I just didn't have enough time to see everyone and get everything done. But don't worry. I'm sure I'll see you all sometime soon again. On the afternoon of Oct 1, I left from Edmonton to Toronto via Peppermint Patty (aka my moms van). Gavin hid for most of the first day. When I reached Winnipeg, I decided to drive through the city, as I have never seen Canada's windy city. It was at this point, that Gavin came out of hiding to check things out. It was really funny. He kept running from one window to the next, looking outside...and then he'd sit on the dash, which was kinda cute because his head was pressed up against the windshield and flattened his ears and his eyes were all super big and black. soooo cute. Anyways. Winnipeg looked like a very nice place from what I saw. I kinda wanna go back and check things out in more depth. Not a lot you can check out at like...one in the morning. or two. something like that. I was in Ontario x hours away from Thunder Bay before I slept in a rest area.
I would like to note at this point...that the speed limits of the highways progressively lowered as I went further east. odd. Ontario was very quick to let me know how dangerous speeding is and how speed pays...and that fatigue was dangerous, so be sure to rest (yet it was hours before I found a rest area...yet before I entered ontario it seemed like I saw one every 5-10 min).
I woke up around four or five hours later and continued on my way. Around 1KM away from the next town I thought the van died. Everything just sort of seized up. And here I thought I was making such good time. And then it started to rain. Turns out, I was just out of gas. This confused me because the gas gauge doesn't work in the van, but you can usually get well over 500 km on it before re-fueling (it was at 468 km when it ran out). But I guess I didn't take into account all the added weight of everything in the van, and my bed floppin' around creating extra wind resistance into the calculations...kinda sucked though, since I had planned on filling up in this small town anyways. So after a few hours of drama, I'm on my way again.
So, after the gas mishap, I was very careful to fill up every 300 km or so. Just to be safe. I filled up around 8:30 at night and shortly after passed another gas station. I kept going. I mean. Why wouldn't there be another gas station in a few hundred km (and I bet by now you know where this is going...)? so I'm driving and I'm driving...and I'm driving some more. And as I drive I'm keeping my eyes peeled for another gas station. But the few gas stations I pass are closed. So I drive and I drive some more. Now not only am I looking for gas stations, but at my odometer as well. It is now around Midnight and I'm beginning to feel a lot like Max, only I know that this isn't a movie (if my life were a movie, I'm sure it would be a tragedy not an action) and odds are I'm not going to find some gas just sitting around somewhere. Needless to say, around 60 km away from Sue Saint Marie the van seizes up again(this time at 416 km) and I'm stranded in the middle of no where, in pitch black darkness (not that it stopped me from running in either direction for x minutes before realizing that this is how horror movie start, and doubling back to the van). Thank goodness for AMA...only...now my phone is about to die and they have no idea where I am (I guess telling them that I'm on the major highway heading eastbound, around 60 km west of Sue Saint Marie isn't clear enough of directions to be rescued with), but it starts to rain...again. Now...when I say 'rain'....what I should really be saying is: fuckin' monsoon! Seriously....and here I thought I didn't have any bad karma left to spend. So...x hours and a jerry can later, I'm back on my way. The next open gas station was around 40 km away...and upon talking to the worker there, discovered that all of the gas stations except for that one close around 9 pm. Not enough travel to warrant it I guess. So after filling up, I resumed driving and driving and driving....around three or four hours before Toronto though, I realize that I really have to sleep. So I find the next rest area and sleep for another four or so hours.
So. I can say with confidence, that I knew I was in Toronto when: people would not let me into their lane of traffic/ people didn't signal when entering my lane of traffic (while I was still in the way)/ people honked at me because I had stopped to allow an emergency vehicle pass by/ people honked at me because I wasn't moving fast enough because I still haven't manifested my latent mutant power of magnetism to move the nine cars that were crawling at a snails pace on the road in front of me/I got flipped the bird because a guy on the far left lane on a five lane freeway was signaling to get into what would end up being the far right lane and I was in his path and didn't didn't slow down and stop all the traffic behind me/people yet again tried to get into my lane of traffic while I'm in the way of their car, resulting in me swerving to not get hit, and then get honked at by them as if I did something wrong/discovered that I couldn't turn right OR left on a major street in the downtown core where I needed to turn. or the street after that...or the street after that.../etc. etc. Needless to say: I'm not in Edmonton anymore.
My new apartment is nice. Mila found a nice place for me. It's on a main street, so if I leave my windows open it gets kind of noisy. But if they're closed, it's pretty much fine. I'm also pleased to report that kids wearing lead boots that have two meter dashes at all hours of the day (and night) do not live above me. Getting into my parking stall is kinda tricky...the lots are kinda smallish. um....oh, they don't do walk throughs' here. One would think this is pretty rad....I mean...you don't even really have to clean your place well....but then it's not so rad, cuz when you move in you gotta clean your place first. Kinda gross. Also, I've been stock piling empty bottles and cans that I find everywhere. People here don't seem to care about the deposit. They just blue bag'em. I have 3 or 4 big bags full already, and that's just pretty much when ever I get a chance to check out the bins for my building. I'm pretty sure I could almost make a living off of collecting bottles.
Speaking of which. I still don't have a job yet. Kinda really sucks. A lot. If you wanna give me money, I won't argue. I've been sending out so many resumes it's sick. It seems like that's all I do. But I guess if I still don't have a job, that's not enough, so I'm gonna have to step it up. I've had a few interviews, but nothing as of yet. so I'm gonna try even harder and lower expectations (at least for now) and try to get something within the next week.
MIla is doing well. She is doing wicked in school right now and made the soccer team. I'm so proud of her. Not that I really did anything to help her get where she is or anything...and I'm sure as proud of her as I am, she's probably not so proud of me and trying to hide me. She keeps asking me to put this bag over my head. She tells me it's like a D.I.Y. lucha mask...but...I dunno...I think she's embarrassed or something...
I'm also slowly getting used to driving around the city. Seriously....it's aggressive aggressive driving over here. Throw caution to the wind....but who would have thought being a bad driver would be so hard? you gotta pay so much more attention to make sure that you don't hit or get hit....by cars/bikes/pedestrians...the good soy cheese is retarded expensive here too. I'm none to impressed about that. But they do have a good selection of veggie stuff and parts of the city are growing on me.
also. I got my sleeve done. I think it looks wicked good. although today, when I was washing my hands I looked in the mirror...and I really like how there is nothing on my left forearm. A little part of me thinks maybe I should have made it a 3/4 sleeve. but...it's soooooo cooooooool! deep sea monsters and everything! rwar! um. but my butt is really sore. This foot stool doesn't provide much comfort (I don't have a computer desk or couch yet. need a job before I want to spend on those things)....sooo....I'm gonna jet. but. at least this gives you some garble to digest and puts you up to speed on what is going on with me. oh. and once again, please feel free to send donations of money and or food to:
Mark DesLauriers
101, 1217 Bayview Ave
Toronto, On
M4G 2Z8
Canada
'<b>This is a book that you are not likely to buy</b>' or '<b>A Story too long to be called a short story, but too short to be called a long story.</b>'
This is dedicated to all of you who directly shaped me into the person that I now am (rad to the power of infinity!), which allowed me to create this fine story, or gave me the support financial or otherwise that got me through those rough times...etc. etc.
Sound confusing? Such is only one description that can be given to my life. Obviously you are out of the loop at any which rate and must carefully hop back into the loop without disrupting the equalibrium of the loop that is currently in motion as we speak, lest you wish to cause a catastrophic chain of events that will ultimately result in you being labeled as a klutz....and nobody wants that. Especially your mother, who up until this point had thought she brought you up right.
Now there are many ways that I could bring you back into the loop. A pie chart for example. well. Maybe not. But point form would work. I don't think it would be near as interesting for you, my loyal or maybe not so loyal readers (I know who you are...deserters!). But just in case you do not believe me...
- give a play by play account of what occurred.
- tell a story.
- write a play in which Gavin tells the story of our journey in the form of a
monologue.
- add some violence and nudity to said play as statistics prove that is what people
want to see and would be more likely to sit through the entire presentation if this
were the case.
- etc.
- etc.
See? told you. But a story...yes. That sounds like a good idea. Non-Fiction, obviously. Although...maybe not. Just to spruce things up a wee bit. Sort of like 'Self'. Yes. No. Maybe. One might have to think: If a movie were to be made based upon these writings, would I want it to come off like Big FIsh? or something more documentary-ish...mockumentary? Either which way, I will do my best to avoid clichs and bad story telling technique. But I make no promises. Right. So a book. A title? hmm. yes. we will need a title. Dedications? perhaps. But one always runs the risk of making others feel left out when not included in such circumstances (almost as though they directly shaped you into the person that you now are, which allowed you to create this fine story, or gave you the support financial or otherwise that got you through those rough times...etc. etc.). After that we must develop a loose plot and jot them down on post it notes when I will then cover my entire apartment with. Keeping the loose plot lines that I feel will be relevant to this story, and discarding those that would not be. A good begging/middle/and end are essential. The in-betweens are merely filler to get us to where we want to be. Or is it? Is it the end or the journey to the end that makes a story? Should it be reversed? Should we have open the book-filler-good story-filler-more good story-filler-close the book?
It all started on a dark and stormy night...no...this starts our journey much to far away from what you are missing out on...*crumples post it*....although, it should be noted that if I were to start my story when I was born it would not actually start out as 'It all started on a dark and stormy night'. It would actually start out something like this: It was late, on this the thirteenth of Friday; nineteen eighty, when our story begins....a calendar year..no...we need to go closer. *zoom in* Canada. *zoom in* Alberta *zoom in* Edmonton *zoom in* Grey Nuns Hospital *zoom in* Maternity Ward *zoom in* wait....rewind. We're not at the Maternity Ward just yet....wait...you passed it. Stop. There. See that? That was my mom being rushed to the doctor...I'm about to be born premature. Follow them, follow them! Aw man...they shut us out...I can't believe this...we're missing my own birth here. Well...not really. There were some complications. Oh oh! Quick look there! A police officer is pulling a gun on a doctor! Great Mother of Pearl it's still Friday the Thirteenth! Did you see that....wha? book? nono...this is the flashback department. I'm the omnipotent voice....you obviously made a wrong turn, and your eyes obviously don't support the latest flashback upgrades, which would explain why you're only reading this as if you were visually impaired; and not actually seeing what was going on and hearing my voice....*steps out of flash back department*
Awkward.
At any rate, our story isn't beginning at the point in time where I physically entered this world in my current form. Our story begins some twenty six years later, in the midst of emotional turmoil and the worst ska drought in recent memory (in Edmonton, Alberta). And...man. I'm bored of doing this already. Saw a cute girl dancing in the crowd. I was dancing and dripping in sweat. I actually talked to this cute girl (using something that I found in my coat pocket at an 'in') and we exchanged phone numbers. Fast forward to a date that involved giving flowers to winning the two coolest prizes in punk rock bingo to watching her play indoor soccer to gift exchanging to making her cookies to dressing up as a pirate to getting kicked out of a bar for pooping (in the designated poop area) to getting drunk to calling in sick to breaking up to getting back together to zombie movies to making balloon flowers to googling how to put out a grease fire to her moving away to it being alright for me to move away to be with her.
Lost? That's alright. As you can see, I've obviously given up on the book idea. That is just way too much work for the likes of me. I have a short enough attention span as it is and you obviously don't care for this filler anyways and just want the dirt. So here it is...Around mid september it was decided that I was officially moving to Toronto for the beginning of october. This however, left very little time to get a lot done. As such, things got very hectic and well...if you didn't find out till just now, I'm very sorry. I'm a bad friend. If you didn't get to see me before I left....see the last sentence. I just didn't have enough time to see everyone and get everything done. But don't worry. I'm sure I'll see you all sometime soon again. On the afternoon of Oct 1, I left from Edmonton to Toronto via Peppermint Patty (aka my moms van). Gavin hid for most of the first day. When I reached Winnipeg, I decided to drive through the city, as I have never seen Canada's windy city. It was at this point, that Gavin came out of hiding to check things out. It was really funny. He kept running from one window to the next, looking outside...and then he'd sit on the dash, which was kinda cute because his head was pressed up against the windshield and flattened his ears and his eyes were all super big and black. soooo cute. Anyways. Winnipeg looked like a very nice place from what I saw. I kinda wanna go back and check things out in more depth. Not a lot you can check out at like...one in the morning. or two. something like that. I was in Ontario x hours away from Thunder Bay before I slept in a rest area.
I would like to note at this point...that the speed limits of the highways progressively lowered as I went further east. odd. Ontario was very quick to let me know how dangerous speeding is and how speed pays...and that fatigue was dangerous, so be sure to rest (yet it was hours before I found a rest area...yet before I entered ontario it seemed like I saw one every 5-10 min).
I woke up around four or five hours later and continued on my way. Around 1KM away from the next town I thought the van died. Everything just sort of seized up. And here I thought I was making such good time. And then it started to rain. Turns out, I was just out of gas. This confused me because the gas gauge doesn't work in the van, but you can usually get well over 500 km on it before re-fueling (it was at 468 km when it ran out). But I guess I didn't take into account all the added weight of everything in the van, and my bed floppin' around creating extra wind resistance into the calculations...kinda sucked though, since I had planned on filling up in this small town anyways. So after a few hours of drama, I'm on my way again.
So, after the gas mishap, I was very careful to fill up every 300 km or so. Just to be safe. I filled up around 8:30 at night and shortly after passed another gas station. I kept going. I mean. Why wouldn't there be another gas station in a few hundred km (and I bet by now you know where this is going...)? so I'm driving and I'm driving...and I'm driving some more. And as I drive I'm keeping my eyes peeled for another gas station. But the few gas stations I pass are closed. So I drive and I drive some more. Now not only am I looking for gas stations, but at my odometer as well. It is now around Midnight and I'm beginning to feel a lot like Max, only I know that this isn't a movie (if my life were a movie, I'm sure it would be a tragedy not an action) and odds are I'm not going to find some gas just sitting around somewhere. Needless to say, around 60 km away from Sue Saint Marie the van seizes up again(this time at 416 km) and I'm stranded in the middle of no where, in pitch black darkness (not that it stopped me from running in either direction for x minutes before realizing that this is how horror movie start, and doubling back to the van). Thank goodness for AMA...only...now my phone is about to die and they have no idea where I am (I guess telling them that I'm on the major highway heading eastbound, around 60 km west of Sue Saint Marie isn't clear enough of directions to be rescued with), but it starts to rain...again. Now...when I say 'rain'....what I should really be saying is: fuckin' monsoon! Seriously....and here I thought I didn't have any bad karma left to spend. So...x hours and a jerry can later, I'm back on my way. The next open gas station was around 40 km away...and upon talking to the worker there, discovered that all of the gas stations except for that one close around 9 pm. Not enough travel to warrant it I guess. So after filling up, I resumed driving and driving and driving....around three or four hours before Toronto though, I realize that I really have to sleep. So I find the next rest area and sleep for another four or so hours.
So. I can say with confidence, that I knew I was in Toronto when: people would not let me into their lane of traffic/ people didn't signal when entering my lane of traffic (while I was still in the way)/ people honked at me because I had stopped to allow an emergency vehicle pass by/ people honked at me because I wasn't moving fast enough because I still haven't manifested my latent mutant power of magnetism to move the nine cars that were crawling at a snails pace on the road in front of me/I got flipped the bird because a guy on the far left lane on a five lane freeway was signaling to get into what would end up being the far right lane and I was in his path and didn't didn't slow down and stop all the traffic behind me/people yet again tried to get into my lane of traffic while I'm in the way of their car, resulting in me swerving to not get hit, and then get honked at by them as if I did something wrong/discovered that I couldn't turn right OR left on a major street in the downtown core where I needed to turn. or the street after that...or the street after that.../etc. etc. Needless to say: I'm not in Edmonton anymore.
My new apartment is nice. Mila found a nice place for me. It's on a main street, so if I leave my windows open it gets kind of noisy. But if they're closed, it's pretty much fine. I'm also pleased to report that kids wearing lead boots that have two meter dashes at all hours of the day (and night) do not live above me. Getting into my parking stall is kinda tricky...the lots are kinda smallish. um....oh, they don't do walk throughs' here. One would think this is pretty rad....I mean...you don't even really have to clean your place well....but then it's not so rad, cuz when you move in you gotta clean your place first. Kinda gross. Also, I've been stock piling empty bottles and cans that I find everywhere. People here don't seem to care about the deposit. They just blue bag'em. I have 3 or 4 big bags full already, and that's just pretty much when ever I get a chance to check out the bins for my building. I'm pretty sure I could almost make a living off of collecting bottles.
Speaking of which. I still don't have a job yet. Kinda really sucks. A lot. If you wanna give me money, I won't argue. I've been sending out so many resumes it's sick. It seems like that's all I do. But I guess if I still don't have a job, that's not enough, so I'm gonna have to step it up. I've had a few interviews, but nothing as of yet. so I'm gonna try even harder and lower expectations (at least for now) and try to get something within the next week.
MIla is doing well. She is doing wicked in school right now and made the soccer team. I'm so proud of her. Not that I really did anything to help her get where she is or anything...and I'm sure as proud of her as I am, she's probably not so proud of me and trying to hide me. She keeps asking me to put this bag over my head. She tells me it's like a D.I.Y. lucha mask...but...I dunno...I think she's embarrassed or something...
I'm also slowly getting used to driving around the city. Seriously....it's aggressive aggressive driving over here. Throw caution to the wind....but who would have thought being a bad driver would be so hard? you gotta pay so much more attention to make sure that you don't hit or get hit....by cars/bikes/pedestrians...the good soy cheese is retarded expensive here too. I'm none to impressed about that. But they do have a good selection of veggie stuff and parts of the city are growing on me.
also. I got my sleeve done. I think it looks wicked good. although today, when I was washing my hands I looked in the mirror...and I really like how there is nothing on my left forearm. A little part of me thinks maybe I should have made it a 3/4 sleeve. but...it's soooooo cooooooool! deep sea monsters and everything! rwar! um. but my butt is really sore. This foot stool doesn't provide much comfort (I don't have a computer desk or couch yet. need a job before I want to spend on those things)....sooo....I'm gonna jet. but. at least this gives you some garble to digest and puts you up to speed on what is going on with me. oh. and once again, please feel free to send donations of money and or food to:
Mark DesLauriers
101, 1217 Bayview Ave
Toronto, On
M4G 2Z8
Canada
'<b>This is a book that you are not likely to buy</b>' or '<b>A Story too long to be called a short story, but too short to be called a long story.</b>'
This is dedicated to all of you who directly shaped me into the person that I now am (rad to the power of infinity!), which allowed me to create this fine story, or gave me the support financial or otherwise that got me through those rough times...etc. etc.
Oh - and the way you wrote this blog had me giggling - fucking awesome ♥
Controversial set.
People angry.
SG pulls.
People still angry.
Be glad you missed it - it was a headache and TONS of drama
And thanks - I am starting to feel better