I just moved into a new place on Saturday. It's a bit different but I think things are going to be good. I'm now staying at the top of an apartment building which would allow me to see for miles around if it wasn't for the smog/fog obscuring the view.
We now have free electricity and heat which is a great deal. Also, my rent is $47 less per month than my previous place so I think I'm going to save a bit which is good.
I want to say more but I haven't forgotten that the Internet can be a bit of a freaky place at times and I don't especially want to tell the world where I live.
I find it interesting how I never feel really settled in a new place. Even with this one, I'm already thinking of how I don't know how long I'll stay there. I never feel it's time to really establish myself in a place for a long period of time. I don't know why that is.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Happy Burns' Day!
If you're not Scottish, today is just another day. However, today we remember the birthday of our national poet, Robert (or Rabbie) Burns. Many people around the world will attend a Burns Supper where his poetry will be read and many a haggis, neep and tattie will be devoured enthusiastically. His most famous work is probably Auld Lany Syne which is often sung at New Year. All I know about Burns is that he was a Freemason, a womanizer and he didn't think much of the church. So, all in all, I wouldn't vote for him but he's a famous Scot nonetheless.
Here's one of his poems about accidentally destroying a mouse's home while ploughing a field. It contains a lot of old vocabulary which I don't entirely understand myself.
To A Mouse (On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough)
1785
Type: Poem
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
Here's one of his poems about accidentally destroying a mouse's home while ploughing a field. It contains a lot of old vocabulary which I don't entirely understand myself.
To A Mouse (On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough)
1785
Type: Poem
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
Monday, January 17, 2005
New stance - new lease of life!
Last night I was at Blue Mountain for the 3rd time this season. It was rather chilly. (or flippin' baltic as we'd say back home) It was so cold, in fact that I discovered ice forming on my moustache which was the only exposed area of facial hair. Rather odd sensation, it was. I felt like I'd spilled hair gel on my lip and now it had dried.
The biggest thing about last night, though, was the significance of my new stance. For those of you not sure what I'm talking about, your stance is the positioning and orientation of your feet on the board. I made a change prior to this trip and widened the stance a bit and rotated my right foot so now I ride in a duck feet stance.
The result of the change is that now I can crouch down a lot more as I ride and I can balance over the board better. With that new-found skill, I think I probably made a new personal land speed record last night. I was going pretty fast and I hit a bumpy patch of snow and just crouched and hoped for the best. I got catapulted into the air once or twice and came out the other end with a slightly higher pulse and an amazing sense of exhilaration. It was awesome. Now I just need to get more air over these bumps...
The biggest thing about last night, though, was the significance of my new stance. For those of you not sure what I'm talking about, your stance is the positioning and orientation of your feet on the board. I made a change prior to this trip and widened the stance a bit and rotated my right foot so now I ride in a duck feet stance.
The result of the change is that now I can crouch down a lot more as I ride and I can balance over the board better. With that new-found skill, I think I probably made a new personal land speed record last night. I was going pretty fast and I hit a bumpy patch of snow and just crouched and hoped for the best. I got catapulted into the air once or twice and came out the other end with a slightly higher pulse and an amazing sense of exhilaration. It was awesome. Now I just need to get more air over these bumps...
Alyn & AJ's Wedding
I had a great day on Saturday. It was the wedding of Alyn Jones and Allyson Jean (or AJ) Mallett. I was priveleged to be asked to play the flute and tin whistles at the ceremony and it was a great sight to behold. I found it so amazing to witness the coming together of family and friends, all cheering on these two great people as they commit their lives to each other. I have no doubt that they have a long and wonderful future together.
I hired a kilt outfit for the occasion but I was not alone as there were many other Scots at the wedding, since Alyn and his family are from Edinburgh. I was asked a total of eleven times whether I was wearing anything under my kilt or not. It's interesting how people are so intrigued by that question. Well, I can now reveal (maybe not the best word) that I was in fact braving the elements without anything under there. It was -9 plus wind chill but i couldn't bring myself to compromise on that!
In the evening there was the reception and I was calling the ceilidh. To those not in the know, a ceilidh is a Scottish dance where people have a ton of fun throwing each other around the room, roughly following the music that accompanies it. My task was to explain how to do the dances and keep people involved and excited about it. The guests were great and everyone seemed to have a fantastic time!
I hired a kilt outfit for the occasion but I was not alone as there were many other Scots at the wedding, since Alyn and his family are from Edinburgh. I was asked a total of eleven times whether I was wearing anything under my kilt or not. It's interesting how people are so intrigued by that question. Well, I can now reveal (maybe not the best word) that I was in fact braving the elements without anything under there. It was -9 plus wind chill but i couldn't bring myself to compromise on that!
In the evening there was the reception and I was calling the ceilidh. To those not in the know, a ceilidh is a Scottish dance where people have a ton of fun throwing each other around the room, roughly following the music that accompanies it. My task was to explain how to do the dances and keep people involved and excited about it. The guests were great and everyone seemed to have a fantastic time!
The core problem with computers
I've solved the almost age-old mystery of why computers are so temperamental in their nature. This new discovery will herald in a new ear of understanding between users and their computers alike.
Every computer in the world has a motherboard but where is the fatherboard? He's gone, vamoosed, scarpered. He has left the poor computer with only a motherboard to take care of it, resulting in the machine maturing without a masculine board-model to follow. What hope is there, I ask you?
Every computer in the world has a motherboard but where is the fatherboard? He's gone, vamoosed, scarpered. He has left the poor computer with only a motherboard to take care of it, resulting in the machine maturing without a masculine board-model to follow. What hope is there, I ask you?
The Winner
My good friend Sgt. Steve just forwarded this story to me. It made me cry. It's from an Inspirational E-Mail sent out from allworship.com. It's longer than my normal posts but hopefully you'll find it interesting.
The Winner
I was watching some little kids play soccer. These kids were only five or six years old, but they were playing a real game - a serious game - two teams, complete with coaches, uniforms, and parents.
I didn't know any of them, so I was able to enjoy the game without the distraction of being anxious about winning or losing. I wished the parents and coaches could have done the same. The teams were pretty evenly matched. I will just call them Team One and Team Two. Nobody scored in the first period. The kids were hilarious. They were clumsy and terribly inefficient. They fell over their own feet, they stumbled over the ball, they kicked at the ball and missed it but they didn't seem to care. They were having fun.
In the second quarter, the Team One coach pulled out what must have been his first team and put in the scrubs, except for his best player who now guarded the goal.
The game took a dramatic turn. I guess winning is important even when you're five years old because the Team Two coach left his best players in, and the Team One scrubs were no match for them. Team Two swarmed around the little guy who was now the Team One goalie. He was an outstanding athlete, but he was no match for three or four who were also very good. Team Two began to score. The lone goalie gave it everything he had, recklessly throwing his body in front of incoming balls, trying valiantly to stop them.
Team Two scored two goals in quick succession. It infuriated the young boy. He became a raging maniac - shouting, running, diving. With all the stamina he could muster, he covered the boy who now had the ball, but that boy kicked it to another boy twenty feet away, and by the time he repositioned himself, it was too late - they scored a third goal.
I soon learned who the goalie's parents were. They were nice, decent-looking people. I could tell that his dad had just come from the office; he still had his suit and tie on. They yelled encouragement to their son. I became totally absorbed, watching the boy on the field and his parents on the sidelines. After the third goal, the little kid changed. He could see it was no use; he couldn't stop them.
He didn't quit, but he became quiet. Desperate futility was written all over him. His father changed too. He had been urging his son to try harder - yelling advice and encouragement. But then he changed. He became anxious. He tried to say that it was okay - to hang in there. He grieved for the pain his son was feeling.
After the fourth goal, I knew what was going to happen. I've seen it before. The little boy needed help so badly, and there was no help to be had. He retrieved the ball from the net and handed it to the referee - and then he cried. He just stood there while huge tears rolled down both cheeks. He went to his knees and put his fists to his eyes - and he cried the tears of the helpless and brokenhearted.
When the boy went to his knees, I saw the father start onto the field. His wife clutched his arm and said, "Jim, don't. You'll embarrass him." But he tore loose from her and ran onto the field. He wasn't supposed to; the game was still in progress. Suit, tie, dress shoes, and all, he charged onto the field, and he picked up his son so everybody would know that this was his boy, and he hugged him and held him and cried with him. I've never been so proud of a man in my life.
He carried him off the field, and when he got close to the sidelines I heard him say, "Scotty, I'm so proud of you. You were great out there. I want everybody to know that you are my son." "Daddy," the boy sobbed, "I couldn't stop them. I tried, Daddy, I tried and tried, and they scored on me."
"Scotty, it doesn't matter how many times they scored on you. You're my son, and I'm proud of you. I want you to go back out there and finish the game. I know you want to quit, but you can't. And, son, you're going to get scored on again, but it doesn't matter. Go on, now." It made a difference. I could tell it did.
When you're all alone, and you're getting scored on - and you can't stop them - it means a lot to know that it doesn't matter to those who love you. The little guy ran back on to the field, and they scored two more times. But it was okay.
I get scored on every day. I try so hard. I recklessly throw my body in every direction. I fume and rage. I struggle with temptation and sin with every ounce of my being. And Satan laughs. And he scores again, and the tears come, and I go to my knees - sinful, convicted, helpless.
And my Father rushes right out on the field right in front of the whole crowd - the whole jeering, laughing world - and he picks me up, and he hugs me and he says, "I'm so proud of you. You were great out there. I want everybody to know that you are my son, and because I control the outcome of this game, I declare you The Winner."
-Author Unknown
If you want to sign up for Allworship.com's weekly inspirational e-mail, go to this page.
The Winner
I was watching some little kids play soccer. These kids were only five or six years old, but they were playing a real game - a serious game - two teams, complete with coaches, uniforms, and parents.
I didn't know any of them, so I was able to enjoy the game without the distraction of being anxious about winning or losing. I wished the parents and coaches could have done the same. The teams were pretty evenly matched. I will just call them Team One and Team Two. Nobody scored in the first period. The kids were hilarious. They were clumsy and terribly inefficient. They fell over their own feet, they stumbled over the ball, they kicked at the ball and missed it but they didn't seem to care. They were having fun.
In the second quarter, the Team One coach pulled out what must have been his first team and put in the scrubs, except for his best player who now guarded the goal.
The game took a dramatic turn. I guess winning is important even when you're five years old because the Team Two coach left his best players in, and the Team One scrubs were no match for them. Team Two swarmed around the little guy who was now the Team One goalie. He was an outstanding athlete, but he was no match for three or four who were also very good. Team Two began to score. The lone goalie gave it everything he had, recklessly throwing his body in front of incoming balls, trying valiantly to stop them.
Team Two scored two goals in quick succession. It infuriated the young boy. He became a raging maniac - shouting, running, diving. With all the stamina he could muster, he covered the boy who now had the ball, but that boy kicked it to another boy twenty feet away, and by the time he repositioned himself, it was too late - they scored a third goal.
I soon learned who the goalie's parents were. They were nice, decent-looking people. I could tell that his dad had just come from the office; he still had his suit and tie on. They yelled encouragement to their son. I became totally absorbed, watching the boy on the field and his parents on the sidelines. After the third goal, the little kid changed. He could see it was no use; he couldn't stop them.
He didn't quit, but he became quiet. Desperate futility was written all over him. His father changed too. He had been urging his son to try harder - yelling advice and encouragement. But then he changed. He became anxious. He tried to say that it was okay - to hang in there. He grieved for the pain his son was feeling.
After the fourth goal, I knew what was going to happen. I've seen it before. The little boy needed help so badly, and there was no help to be had. He retrieved the ball from the net and handed it to the referee - and then he cried. He just stood there while huge tears rolled down both cheeks. He went to his knees and put his fists to his eyes - and he cried the tears of the helpless and brokenhearted.
When the boy went to his knees, I saw the father start onto the field. His wife clutched his arm and said, "Jim, don't. You'll embarrass him." But he tore loose from her and ran onto the field. He wasn't supposed to; the game was still in progress. Suit, tie, dress shoes, and all, he charged onto the field, and he picked up his son so everybody would know that this was his boy, and he hugged him and held him and cried with him. I've never been so proud of a man in my life.
He carried him off the field, and when he got close to the sidelines I heard him say, "Scotty, I'm so proud of you. You were great out there. I want everybody to know that you are my son." "Daddy," the boy sobbed, "I couldn't stop them. I tried, Daddy, I tried and tried, and they scored on me."
"Scotty, it doesn't matter how many times they scored on you. You're my son, and I'm proud of you. I want you to go back out there and finish the game. I know you want to quit, but you can't. And, son, you're going to get scored on again, but it doesn't matter. Go on, now." It made a difference. I could tell it did.
When you're all alone, and you're getting scored on - and you can't stop them - it means a lot to know that it doesn't matter to those who love you. The little guy ran back on to the field, and they scored two more times. But it was okay.
I get scored on every day. I try so hard. I recklessly throw my body in every direction. I fume and rage. I struggle with temptation and sin with every ounce of my being. And Satan laughs. And he scores again, and the tears come, and I go to my knees - sinful, convicted, helpless.
And my Father rushes right out on the field right in front of the whole crowd - the whole jeering, laughing world - and he picks me up, and he hugs me and he says, "I'm so proud of you. You were great out there. I want everybody to know that you are my son, and because I control the outcome of this game, I declare you The Winner."
-Author Unknown
If you want to sign up for Allworship.com's weekly inspirational e-mail, go to this page.
Monday, January 10, 2005
Desperate for God?
Last Wednesday night I was at a meeting where Todd Bentley was speaking. He was challenging us and asking "Are you desperate for God?" While it's all too easy in these passionate meetings to shout out "Yes!" I took a moment to step back from the moment to consider whether I am in fact desperate for God.
I came to a disappointing conclusion that I'm not in fact as desperate as I would like to think I am. I want more of God. I would like to be living a more out-there crazy life on the edge. The truth is, though, that I'm somewhat happy where I am just now. If I was truly desperate, I would be crying out to God all the time, spending hours seeking him and enjoying his presence. I'm not doing that, though. I'm plodding along, working away but not really in a place of desparation.
God, make me discontented with my current situation. Make me hungrier, craving a deeper experience of you, a closer intimacy with you. I never want today to be the peak of my walk with you. May it be a step up each time, never levelling off or falling. I know there's more than my present experience and I want to pursue it with more enthusiasm than I have been.
I came to a disappointing conclusion that I'm not in fact as desperate as I would like to think I am. I want more of God. I would like to be living a more out-there crazy life on the edge. The truth is, though, that I'm somewhat happy where I am just now. If I was truly desperate, I would be crying out to God all the time, spending hours seeking him and enjoying his presence. I'm not doing that, though. I'm plodding along, working away but not really in a place of desparation.
God, make me discontented with my current situation. Make me hungrier, craving a deeper experience of you, a closer intimacy with you. I never want today to be the peak of my walk with you. May it be a step up each time, never levelling off or falling. I know there's more than my present experience and I want to pursue it with more enthusiasm than I have been.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Why do nice cereals only come in small boxes?
What's the deal with breakfast cereals? I was just replenishing my supplies last night at my local (not very) super-market. It bothers me that all the best cereals come in ridiculously small boxes. If I wanted a cheap and nasty cereal that's 90% sugar, I can get a box the size of a small house. If I want something like "maple pecan crunch" or Alpen, though, it's a different story. We are being conditioned to eat bad cereals! I had a bowl of Alpen this morning which was very nice but I couldn't help noticing that the box was half empty (or half full?) after ONE BOWLFUL!
Monday, January 03, 2005
Happy New Year - I think...
I have to say, this was the most confusing New Year of my life. No, it wasn't due to alcohol or any other mind-altering substances. It was the band who lost track of the time.
I was at Niagara Falls with some friends for New Year, hoping to have a laugh and see some bands perform to celebrate the coming of 2005. Well, the weirdest thing happened. I've never seen anything like this before. We were watching some band playing (whose name escapes me) and all of a sudden we saw a lift/elevator rising towards the top of the tower nearby with a big firework on top of it, making it look like some kind of sparkler. All this time the band played on so we reasoned it was going to wait at the top until midnight and then drop, indicating the start of the New Year. Well, no such luck. As soon as it got to the top there was a burst of fireworks from the top of the tower and across the river. After some mild confusion, people started cheering and wishing each other a Happy New Year and blowing small throw-away trumpets. By this time the band stopped playing and sheepishly shuffled off the stage.
It was such a confusing sequence of events. I was expecting an MC type person to get on stage and say "Here we go! 5....4....3..." or something like that. I didn't really feel like I was part of the whole celebration at all. Surely the countdown is one of the main reasons people are there. Ah well, I suppose it's not that important in the grand scheme of things. Just a mild disappointment.
I was at Niagara Falls with some friends for New Year, hoping to have a laugh and see some bands perform to celebrate the coming of 2005. Well, the weirdest thing happened. I've never seen anything like this before. We were watching some band playing (whose name escapes me) and all of a sudden we saw a lift/elevator rising towards the top of the tower nearby with a big firework on top of it, making it look like some kind of sparkler. All this time the band played on so we reasoned it was going to wait at the top until midnight and then drop, indicating the start of the New Year. Well, no such luck. As soon as it got to the top there was a burst of fireworks from the top of the tower and across the river. After some mild confusion, people started cheering and wishing each other a Happy New Year and blowing small throw-away trumpets. By this time the band stopped playing and sheepishly shuffled off the stage.
It was such a confusing sequence of events. I was expecting an MC type person to get on stage and say "Here we go! 5....4....3..." or something like that. I didn't really feel like I was part of the whole celebration at all. Surely the countdown is one of the main reasons people are there. Ah well, I suppose it's not that important in the grand scheme of things. Just a mild disappointment.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Fun with my new phone!
I got a new phone for Christmas. I'm pretty excited about it. Most people who know me would know that I'm not generally one for gadgets although computer programming is my line of work. (A paradox that some cannot fathom.) Well, I realized that being home in Scotland was a good opportunity to get a new phone because the technology here is a bit more advanced than that which is available in Canada. (No offence to my Canadian chums. Europe's just been doing it for longer.)
After a look around the shops in Glasgow and some subsequent research on the 'net, I picked out the Motorola V620 for myself. The main features I wanted were:
* Quad Band (Good for both European frequences and both North American frequences)
* Unlocked (Can use a SIM from any company, such as O2 in the UK and Rogers in Canada)
It turns out my phone has all kinds of useful features such as camera, Bluetooth and MP3 ringtones. This means I can easily transfer files to/from the phone such as photos I've taken with the in-built camera or if I want to use an MP3 sound file from my computer as my ring tone, I can do that too!
I'm really glad I was able to get this. I'd been hoping to get a new phone at some point and it's good to have one that'll work in Scotland and Canada!
Here's a pic I took of myself on the train with the camera on my phone. The colour's a bit weird but I blame the train for that.
After a look around the shops in Glasgow and some subsequent research on the 'net, I picked out the Motorola V620 for myself. The main features I wanted were:
* Quad Band (Good for both European frequences and both North American frequences)
* Unlocked (Can use a SIM from any company, such as O2 in the UK and Rogers in Canada)
It turns out my phone has all kinds of useful features such as camera, Bluetooth and MP3 ringtones. This means I can easily transfer files to/from the phone such as photos I've taken with the in-built camera or if I want to use an MP3 sound file from my computer as my ring tone, I can do that too!
I'm really glad I was able to get this. I'd been hoping to get a new phone at some point and it's good to have one that'll work in Scotland and Canada!
Here's a pic I took of myself on the train with the camera on my phone. The colour's a bit weird but I blame the train for that.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Happy birthday, Jesus!
In case anyone wondered, I hadn't forgotten in my previous post that this is in fact Christmas Day, I was saving it for a separate entry.
Here we are again. Another year, another Christmas. "The word became flesh" God's gift to us is still providing for us, still helping and blessing us through every Christmas past, present and future. There's really nothing we can give to pay him back, yet how many times do we try to earn his approval?
How can a child earn sonship? Is it with his first step? His first word? His first million? There is no earning sonship, only receiving it. We can choose to work at making God accept us or we can say "Thanks for being my daddy" and trust that we are, in fact, his kids.
What can we give back for the gift of Jesus? Nothing. We can't ever come close to repaying God and I don't think he wants us to either. A gift is not a loan. A gift can tell you a lot about the person that gave it and it demands attention. We should recognise the nature of God from his gift of Jesus and that should inspire us to live like we're special. Certainly, his kindness will result in action on our part but the difference is it's motivated by his love, knowing we're already accepted and we're allowed to screw up. It's good to know you're safe.
Here we are again. Another year, another Christmas. "The word became flesh" God's gift to us is still providing for us, still helping and blessing us through every Christmas past, present and future. There's really nothing we can give to pay him back, yet how many times do we try to earn his approval?
How can a child earn sonship? Is it with his first step? His first word? His first million? There is no earning sonship, only receiving it. We can choose to work at making God accept us or we can say "Thanks for being my daddy" and trust that we are, in fact, his kids.
What can we give back for the gift of Jesus? Nothing. We can't ever come close to repaying God and I don't think he wants us to either. A gift is not a loan. A gift can tell you a lot about the person that gave it and it demands attention. We should recognise the nature of God from his gift of Jesus and that should inspire us to live like we're special. Certainly, his kindness will result in action on our part but the difference is it's motivated by his love, knowing we're already accepted and we're allowed to screw up. It's good to know you're safe.
Jet-lag cured?
Well, I tried an experiment over the past couple of days. I did indeed stay up all night from the 23rd to the 24th. Then I was nodding off a bit in the church service I went to on Christmas Eve. I had planned to stay up and go to the late one over midnight as well but I threw in the towel and went to bed at 11 o'clock.
Being something of a one for numbers, I added it all up. I had been awake for 35 hours by the time I finally went to bed last night. Not surprisingly, it didn't take me long to get to sleep.
The thing that remains to be seen is whether it did in fact deal with the jet-lag or if I'll be wide awake tonight. I got up at around noon today so I suppose I overslept but the good part was that I went to bed at a reasonable time.
Being something of a one for numbers, I added it all up. I had been awake for 35 hours by the time I finally went to bed last night. Not surprisingly, it didn't take me long to get to sleep.
The thing that remains to be seen is whether it did in fact deal with the jet-lag or if I'll be wide awake tonight. I got up at around noon today so I suppose I overslept but the good part was that I went to bed at a reasonable time.
Friday, December 24, 2004
Still not slept since last post
OK, so would you believe it, I've actually tried the crazy idea I posted last night. I have not slept a single wink of sleep since I last posted in the blog. Just a recap, the last time I wrote in here was 4:15am this morning and now it's 2:50pm and I've still not been to bed. It remains to be seen if I will pass out at some point this afternoon/evening. I'm hoping to make it till midnight and then after church I'll come back and sleep like it's going out of fashion.
A haggis supper in Glasgae
Heh, how's it gaun? Guid? Aye, crackin, so it is!
Did you understand that?
How about:
Gonnae geeza bottla ginger?
Now that I'm back in Scotland, I'm adjusting back to the accent (and language!) of the west of Scotland. It's amusing how strong everyone's accent seems to me. I was talking to an assistant in Carphone Warehouse in Glasgow and I couldn't understand a few things he said. It's a bit frightening, really.
Today I managed to get back in touch with a common Scottish pursuit - the trip to the chippy. I walked down Glasgow's Buchanan Street eating a Haggis Supper with a can of Irn Bru in my pocket. I thought to myself, "I can't get much more Scottish than this." It was pure quality, soitwiz. Sorry, lapsed into the Glasgow vernacular there...
An amusing thing about travelling from Toronto to Glasgow is the effect it has on your sleeping pattern. Here I am, still up at 4:45am, not especially tired. I got up at around lunchtime today so that kind of fits. My body is still operating on Toronto time even though my location happens to have changed by 5 hours! Maybe I should stay up all night tonight and then when I go to bed at the end of Christmas Eve, I'll be really tired...
Did you understand that?
How about:
Gonnae geeza bottla ginger?
Now that I'm back in Scotland, I'm adjusting back to the accent (and language!) of the west of Scotland. It's amusing how strong everyone's accent seems to me. I was talking to an assistant in Carphone Warehouse in Glasgow and I couldn't understand a few things he said. It's a bit frightening, really.
Today I managed to get back in touch with a common Scottish pursuit - the trip to the chippy. I walked down Glasgow's Buchanan Street eating a Haggis Supper with a can of Irn Bru in my pocket. I thought to myself, "I can't get much more Scottish than this." It was pure quality, soitwiz. Sorry, lapsed into the Glasgow vernacular there...
An amusing thing about travelling from Toronto to Glasgow is the effect it has on your sleeping pattern. Here I am, still up at 4:45am, not especially tired. I got up at around lunchtime today so that kind of fits. My body is still operating on Toronto time even though my location happens to have changed by 5 hours! Maybe I should stay up all night tonight and then when I go to bed at the end of Christmas Eve, I'll be really tired...
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Back in Scotland!
Yes, it's true! I arrived safely back in the UK this morning and I've just had dinner with Mum, Dad and my siblings for the first time in a year and a half. My body clock is still somewhat confused. It's 6:30pm here but my body is probably closer to 1:30pm. The problem with that is that I only slept for about an hour overnight on the plane so I have some catching up to do. I slept this afternoon and hopefully that should be enough. Tonight I'm going to hear Andy Hunter at Glasgow Elim. I've not been there since they had all the building work done to extend the building. It should be interesting...
Monday, December 20, 2004
First snowboarding trip of the season!
On Saturday I made my first trip up to Blue Mountain of the season. There were quite a lot of runs open, considering it's still only December. I had a fairly good night of riding, considering I've not done it for a while. It's reassuring to see I can still carve although I'm not quite as fast as I was at the end of last season. I'm sure that a few visits from now I'll be back on form, though. It's still fun, no matter what. I love getting out on the hill and having the freedom of zooming down on my board and not needing to worry about anything else other than picking my path down the mountain.
Friday, December 17, 2004
این یک کتاب است
I had my first proper Dari lesson last night. It was so exciting! I recently met someone from Afghanistan in Toronto who is willing to teach me Dari. We met up in Second Cup last night and spent three hours working on it. I LOVE this! It's so cool.
It turns out that my reading and writing is quite good. The only problem with that is that I don't understand any of the words yet! Still, I shouldn't trivialise the ability to understand the symbols of a compeltely foreign language!
The sentence I wrote above (این یک کتاب است) is the Dari for This is a book. It's the first thing I learned in Urdu as well. The Dari is pronounced Een yak kitab ast which literally translates into This one book is. If it was Urdu, it would be Yay kitab heh which would be This book is. Urdu doesn't need the "one" in front of it but otherwise the word order seems similar.
I learned a couple of variations such as your book, his book, her book. I also learned how to say on top of, underneath and in. Pretty soon I'll be able to construct some sentences of my own!
It turns out that my reading and writing is quite good. The only problem with that is that I don't understand any of the words yet! Still, I shouldn't trivialise the ability to understand the symbols of a compeltely foreign language!
The sentence I wrote above (این یک کتاب است) is the Dari for This is a book. It's the first thing I learned in Urdu as well. The Dari is pronounced Een yak kitab ast which literally translates into This one book is. If it was Urdu, it would be Yay kitab heh which would be This book is. Urdu doesn't need the "one" in front of it but otherwise the word order seems similar.
I learned a couple of variations such as your book, his book, her book. I also learned how to say on top of, underneath and in. Pretty soon I'll be able to construct some sentences of my own!
Friday, December 03, 2004
I love Keith Green's music!
I was just checking out some of Keith Green's music on iTunes over the past couple of days. I have a few of his CDs back home in Scotland which I will collect when I'm home over Christmas. It's funny when you listen to something that you know so well but haven't heard for a while. That guy had so much passion, his music was (and is) really powerful. I can hardly wait till I pick up my CDs!
Life after love
No, don't worry. I'm not about to sing a Cher song. I was thinking more of my life of late. It's always a sad business when a romance ends and you're left with all these unanswered questions such as "Did I really hear God in the first place?" and "How will I know when it is his voice?"
The thing I've concluded is that these aren't the most important questions, really. The most important thing is to recognise that God is good, he's still on the throne, he's not forgotten you and life goes on. The other big thing is not to become hard hearted or defensive in future friendships. It's easy to conclude that after a failed romance, you don't want to go through the same disappointments again and therefore, to avoid all risks of romance. However, that will only guarantee that you stay lonely and that's no good! Instead, it's better to have the attitude that you will never know who the right person is if you keep hiding from everyone and sooner or later, you'll have to get back out there and try again.
So, life's not so bad in that sense. I'm feeling optomistic for the future although it is always disappointing when things don't end up the way you expect they will. I'm glad God knows me better than I know myself. I leave you with these wise words from Veggietales:
"God is bigger than the Boogie Man and he's watching out for you and me."
The thing I've concluded is that these aren't the most important questions, really. The most important thing is to recognise that God is good, he's still on the throne, he's not forgotten you and life goes on. The other big thing is not to become hard hearted or defensive in future friendships. It's easy to conclude that after a failed romance, you don't want to go through the same disappointments again and therefore, to avoid all risks of romance. However, that will only guarantee that you stay lonely and that's no good! Instead, it's better to have the attitude that you will never know who the right person is if you keep hiding from everyone and sooner or later, you'll have to get back out there and try again.
So, life's not so bad in that sense. I'm feeling optomistic for the future although it is always disappointing when things don't end up the way you expect they will. I'm glad God knows me better than I know myself. I leave you with these wise words from Veggietales:
"God is bigger than the Boogie Man and he's watching out for you and me."
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Fun with guns
I know, I know. Guns kill people. They really do. However, I discovered that they're lots of fun to shoot at a paper target as well. I was in Pennsylvania visiting my friend Pete Dorosh and his many siblings (shouldn't that be siblii?) in Pittsburgh. We had the fun opportunity of going to Anthony Arms and shooting guns for a fairly small sum of money. We tried out a few smaller handguns (Glock 9mm and Sig 9mm) to begin with and then Steve got the Smith & Wesson 500 which turns out to be the most powerful revolver in production today! You can check out the rest of my photos from the gun adventure here. Don't worry, I'm not turning into a nutter. I just thought it'd be fun to shoot a gun in the USA. One of these things I can look back on and say, "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I shot guns in America?"
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