To Chapter 137 on the Occasion of Our Parting,

If I hadn't been sane, I would have written to you a long time ago.

As it was, our correspondence got off to a slow start. I mean, I knew you were out there some time back around January when the road to what I like to think of as the End began. You'll tell me it's silly, I know. It is. There is no end.

A Virtuous Morning

I write at night.

Over the years reading often inane posts about writing practice on the lovely Internet, I've noticed fewer people extol the virtues of writing at night. I know lots of people do it simply from talking to other writers face to face (something we ought to do more of), but the column inches are devoted to the idyllic, quiet, writerly morning.

"The Dead Walk!" + Top 10!

I do not anoint a worst-ever movie lightly. It always seems hyperbolic. I have a new champion, at least until I see something worse.

I had been avoiding watching Resident Evil since it's massive swing in popularity when I was in grade four. But one thing leads to another grad school assignment and I've ended up seeing it.

They do say you need to know what not to do.

Warning: May Cause Drowsiness and Irritability

I've followed Toronto FC since 2007 when Danny Dichio banged in the team's first goal. It was the first game of pro soccer I'd ever watched voluntarily on TV. I was hooked.

The losing, like the goal, has been curiously addictive. Nothing made sense about the team now and it sure doesn't today, after another hopeless draw, at the end of a hopeless season, sans most of the management and playing staff that started said season. (Remember Hogan Ephraim? Hallucinogenic, I tell you.)

Toronto FC has developed into a very strong sedative, and it really is unique amongst drugs because it used to be a stimulant--I'd sit on the edge of my seat waiting for Collin Samuel (who?) to score a goal, and fall back off the high when he missed from six yards out.

Farewell To Nova Scotia

When I was in my early years of high school I was, sadly, already a nostalgic sop. I thought to myself, probably on some sort of emotional high, that I would be very sad to ever leave beautiful Nova Scotia.

How times change.