It’s been a long time and no writing. Well, at least no writing which I have shared with the world. Lots been going on so I’l give you some broad-strokes.
“A Man is Rich in Proportion to the Number of Things he Can Afford to Let Alone” – HDT
I have managed to consolidate all of my worldly possessions into my apartment over the last month; no more shit in my Dad’s basement and no more shit in my grandparent’s shed. Everything I own is either in my apartment or in my assigned storage unit in my building. Better yet, this mass of shit keeps decreasing by the week. See it always bothered me that I had so much stuff scattered about. Certainly I don’t use most of it, but more than that it is burdensome to carry baggage about and it is a burden which I do not like to put on others.
Well, in the past month I have gotten rid of the metric shitload of clothing and accessories which constituted my army gear (oh yeah, I am getting out of the army – More on that at a later date). On top of that I keep on doing the Kijiji thing and I slowly get rid of stuff that way too. Other than that, anything I can afford to part with for free (books, clothes, etc) leaves my possession at a rate of about a box per week. I can’t wait til the day when my modest amount of possessions are simply the things I use on a regular basis with nothing held in reserve so to speak.
Flexing My A-Bone
I started taking improv classes about a month back and frankly I’m not sure why I didn’t start sooner. I always loved being in plays in elementary school and I took drama throughout high school. Then after high school I really didn’t do anything in that regard, but I always had this idea in my head that I would act again. Alas, it was just a general idea so I never approached it in earnest.
But over the years I have met a few actors and I have always admired their drive to pursue a passion. A little closer to home, my sister, a ham like me, has been taking improv and is starting a Second City course which totally convinced me that I should get my shit together and go do what I feel. I looked for improv classes in Hamilton and found The Staircase. I was amused to realize that it was a building which I had driven by a few years ago and which had piqued my curiosity. I had always meant to inquire as to what went on in there and it is only years later that I serendipitously followed up on that past inclination. A strong argument for intuition indeed.
It has been going well thus far;
I go two nights a week and I’ve met some cool peeps. I even attended the recent Halloween party where there were some seriously wacky costumes. Among the wackiest was my very own…
I’m not sure at what point it occurred to me that I wanted to be Bane for Halloween but it must have been sometime in the summer because I knew I would have to spend September and October bulking up my upper body to be even reminiscent of the top-heavy brawler. While I certainly didn’t expect to get Tom Hardy big,
I had no intention of going looking like…
Given the amount of work I put into the costume and the overall menacing look of it, don’t be surprised if I rock it next Halloween. At the very least I’l have to attend FanExpo this summer to floss it.
I got into some altercations last week. Two in two days actually. The first was when a bus driver, who felt that I had recklessly jumped in front of his stopped bus to put my bike on the front rack, tried to lecture me in a condescending way about jumping in front of vehicles. I reacted in a counter-productive way and gave him shit back. Realizing perhaps that he had come at me the wrong way he tried to show me, without lowering his voice, how his condescension had come from a place of concern. It was enough to defuse me. I listened to what he had to say and we actually got to talking about mountain-biking, the army (he was a vet) and the sad state of the world. Given the shitty start of our relationship it actually ended pretty well. I should fight more bus drivers I suppose.
The next day I took off work to get my costume ready for the upcoming Halloween parties that weekend. Going into Toys R’ Us, one of the managers jumped on me right away asking me…telling me to take my backpack off. I complied grudgingly and went to the bathroom. On the way I noticed many women with purses and it occurred to me that on top of not liking being told what to do nor being presumed a criminal, I also don’t like being profiled. I went back to the counter and explained that I was taking my bag and getting what I needed and that he could assign someone to escort me if he wished. He said I would have to wait a few minutes because he was busy. I said I wouldn’t wait and when I proceeded into the store (to purchase a Batman mask btw as an accessory for my costume). He followed and we got into a spat which became, among other things, a discourse about the legitimacy of rules in general, with me quoting Henry David Thoreau much to this manager’s lack of interest: