Ok, so I know I promised I would keep up the blog and that new entries would be plentiful. I lied. You're going to have to accept the fact that people on the internet lie. That "HOT AND HORNY" girl on MySpace? She's not actually hot. She's most likely not even a girl! Ahhhh trusty non-trustworthy internet. How I missed your spaces to blog from.
I'm going to take a page out of Andrew Keenan-Bolger's Blog (you should all check it out. He's currently on the National Tour of Spelling Bee [which stops in Ottawa in May] and his blogs and vlogs about his road life are great. Maybe our blogs might cross paths in May...). I'm going to start posting again but it's not going to be everyday. Everyday blogging just tires out the creative juices in my head. A lack of juice in my body doesn't bode well for anyone. Speaking of which, I need some orange juice.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Get Up, Stand Up
I've been bad. I promised to write, but I haven't. I swear, I've been really busy. I was just about to write this really long thing about a controversy that's going on at UofO, but when I went and searched the Fulcrum articles that provides the information about said controversy, I was presently surprised to see that someone has already written a nicer and more concise version of what I was just about to write. Therefore, instead of writing the exact same thing, I will link to the article:
Bilingualism requirements dash the hopes of another crop of SFUO candidates
I have always been very clear on my own personal views about this issue, and issues like it: anyone, regardless of age, sex, race, nationality, sexual orientation, or language, should be able to do or achieve whatever he or she chooses to do. It's in our freakin' constitution. Last time I checked (and with no disrespect meant to any French-speaking people), all those rights come before the section on the Official Languages of Canada, and the only province, constitutionally, that is required to use both Official Languages in the education system is New Brunswick.
Anyone speaking either English OR French should be able to run for the SFUO, a student association in a school that's located in a province that's not New Brunswick. Let we, the people, decide who should represent us. If they are qualified, let we, the students, vote on the person we want in our office based on their platform and their kick-ass free stuff and gimmicks. Since birth, we've been taught that the most important and privileged things about living in Canada is our freedom, our rights, and our democracy. What this situation proves is that the inherent principles of our rights, freedoms, and democracy are no matter within the confines of the University of Ottawa, a scary precedence that has gone on for many years at our school.
You'll be hearing more from me about this sooner rather than later...
Bilingualism requirements dash the hopes of another crop of SFUO candidates
I have always been very clear on my own personal views about this issue, and issues like it: anyone, regardless of age, sex, race, nationality, sexual orientation, or language, should be able to do or achieve whatever he or she chooses to do. It's in our freakin' constitution. Last time I checked (and with no disrespect meant to any French-speaking people), all those rights come before the section on the Official Languages of Canada, and the only province, constitutionally, that is required to use both Official Languages in the education system is New Brunswick.
Anyone speaking either English OR French should be able to run for the SFUO, a student association in a school that's located in a province that's not New Brunswick. Let we, the people, decide who should represent us. If they are qualified, let we, the students, vote on the person we want in our office based on their platform and their kick-ass free stuff and gimmicks. Since birth, we've been taught that the most important and privileged things about living in Canada is our freedom, our rights, and our democracy. What this situation proves is that the inherent principles of our rights, freedoms, and democracy are no matter within the confines of the University of Ottawa, a scary precedence that has gone on for many years at our school.
You'll be hearing more from me about this sooner rather than later...
Monday, January 28, 2008
Work Out
Ugh. I want to write this really long entry about American Gladiators but I've got work to do. I know, I know: "ENOCH, YOU'RE DOING WORK!?" It's readings that count toward something and therefore my philosophy of "doing as little as possible to get by." Sorry blog world, you're gonna have to hear about Helga tomorrow.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Party Of One
There's something about going to a restaurant alone thats really cool. It's basically a date with yourself, minus all the awkward asking out, the troublesome planning, the awkward "hello," the painful silence, the awkward silence... I'm beginning to sense a pattern. Sitting in a restaurant alone, your senses sharpen. Just you, your waiter, your food, and your thoughts. Occasionally, something happens around you that makes you look up, but generally it turns out to be nothing; back to your food.
Restaurants have always fascinated me. As avid readers of my blog may know, a lot of things fascinate me: buses, trains, planes, any method of transportation really, taser guns, stupid people, Hannah Montana, stupid people willing to do anything to see Hannah Montana, Starbucks barista girls, girls, people in general, fads, fashion, the entertainment industry, how Good Luck Chuck became a movie, why anyone thinks Dane Cook is funny, did I say Hannah Montana? The lists goes on and on. The notion of being able to look at a piece of folded cardboard or a white board with "Specials" in dry-erase marker, point to a number, and then have it appear in front of you in five minutes to an hour (I'm looking at you Johnny Farinas on Elgin) is mind-boggling. In addition, everyone sitting around you each has their own story and conversation and are generally cheerful thanks to the (hopefully) great food and drinks off of that folded piece of cardboard.
Everyone sitting down at a restaurant is equal; we are all at the mercy of the people preparing and serving our food. Therefore, everyone has to be at their best behavior. Of course, sometimes, you're in a group and the conversations turn loud, fast, and loose but generally, you have to be good to your hosts, otherwise you might end up with some unexpected additions to your plate.
No one likes an unexpected surprise.
Restaurants have always fascinated me. As avid readers of my blog may know, a lot of things fascinate me: buses, trains, planes, any method of transportation really, taser guns, stupid people, Hannah Montana, stupid people willing to do anything to see Hannah Montana, Starbucks barista girls, girls, people in general, fads, fashion, the entertainment industry, how Good Luck Chuck became a movie, why anyone thinks Dane Cook is funny, did I say Hannah Montana? The lists goes on and on. The notion of being able to look at a piece of folded cardboard or a white board with "Specials" in dry-erase marker, point to a number, and then have it appear in front of you in five minutes to an hour (I'm looking at you Johnny Farinas on Elgin) is mind-boggling. In addition, everyone sitting around you each has their own story and conversation and are generally cheerful thanks to the (hopefully) great food and drinks off of that folded piece of cardboard.
Everyone sitting down at a restaurant is equal; we are all at the mercy of the people preparing and serving our food. Therefore, everyone has to be at their best behavior. Of course, sometimes, you're in a group and the conversations turn loud, fast, and loose but generally, you have to be good to your hosts, otherwise you might end up with some unexpected additions to your plate.
No one likes an unexpected surprise.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Shout Out
Even though, I don't believe in "math" or "science" or "studying," I have to send a SHOUT OUT to two schools in Fairburn, Georgia who are starting up at 15-week pilot program that will pay underachieving students $8 an hour to attend a study hall. In order to be eligible, the forty students in grades eight and eleven (for now) must be "underperforming" in math and science. Aside from the sweet more-than-minimum wage, eight graders will get a $75 bonus and eleventh graders will get a $125 bonus if their marks are raised to a B. If all goes well, some kids stand to earn $605 during the semester.
How sweet is that!? All those aspiring student body presidents out there, take note: a promise to pay students for school is coming sooner rather than later! What will they come up with next? CLOWN COLLEGE!? Wait, you're telling me they already have that?
How sweet is that!? All those aspiring student body presidents out there, take note: a promise to pay students for school is coming sooner rather than later! What will they come up with next? CLOWN COLLEGE!? Wait, you're telling me they already have that?
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
PILLS
If you read yesterday's blog, you may have noticed a glaring story omission. Unless you've been living under a rock and didn't catch the 24-hour Heath Ledger Death-A-Thon on CNN, Heath Ledger is dead. I don't want to brag, but I CALLED IT! Well, not the death part, no one could see that one coming, horrible tragedy and what not. What I did call was the story taking front page news over at our friends the Ottawa Sun.
WHOO! Biggest headline on the front page! They did not disappoint. Let's examine the stories that took the silver medal to "HEATH LEDGER DEAD AT 28 - Hollywood In Shock, Young Ottawa Co-Star 'Sad'" (check out the random "PILLS" at the bottom of that).
-Son Charged In Murder - Grizzly family murder story? FUCK THAT, LEDGER'S DEAD!
-Not Enough Jump - Surely, a losing local sports team must be bigger than a movie star dying? Guess again.
-The Manley Report on Afghanistan - The biggest story in the Citizen and really every other paper in Canada has been regulated to a header at the Ottawa Sun, with the writer's name and picture taking over 1/3rd of the header space.
-Plus All The Oscar Noms! - Can't forget the Oscar noms, even though you can barely see it on the front page.
And not a single mention of the world's ACTUAL biggest story: stock market turbulence. I guess that doesn't really sell papers; you have to spice it up. "STOCK MARKETS HIT TURBULENCE OVER TROUBLED PACIFIC OCEAN WHILE DODGING MISSILES. TWO DEAD, DOZENS INJURED."
WHOO! Biggest headline on the front page! They did not disappoint. Let's examine the stories that took the silver medal to "HEATH LEDGER DEAD AT 28 - Hollywood In Shock, Young Ottawa Co-Star 'Sad'" (check out the random "PILLS" at the bottom of that).-Son Charged In Murder - Grizzly family murder story? FUCK THAT, LEDGER'S DEAD!
-Not Enough Jump - Surely, a losing local sports team must be bigger than a movie star dying? Guess again.
-The Manley Report on Afghanistan - The biggest story in the Citizen and really every other paper in Canada has been regulated to a header at the Ottawa Sun, with the writer's name and picture taking over 1/3rd of the header space.
-Plus All The Oscar Noms! - Can't forget the Oscar noms, even though you can barely see it on the front page.
And not a single mention of the world's ACTUAL biggest story: stock market turbulence. I guess that doesn't really sell papers; you have to spice it up. "STOCK MARKETS HIT TURBULENCE OVER TROUBLED PACIFIC OCEAN WHILE DODGING MISSILES. TWO DEAD, DOZENS INJURED."
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Chi Tea
I've been drinking a lot of tea recently. I never drank tea (except iced tea) up until a few weeks ago and for those of you that have heard the "I'm really not that Asian" rant, not drinking tea was another item on the long list that makes me a disgrace to my culture (the biggest one being my inability to use chopsticks). I guess that's the product of a kid born and raised in Canada in two non-Asian cities. Another product of an Asian kid born and raised in Canada: I'm a monster. I mean have you seen normal Asian people? The average height is like 5'. 5' 5" at most if they ate their green beans as a kid. These people are really short. Me? 6'. Every single time I go see relatives or any of my parents' Asian friends, the first words out of their mouths (in Chinese) are "YU SOUL TALL!" I think it was something in the Canadian water which therefore leads me to believe that basketball's Yao Ming was secretly raised in Canada.
I've never been good at "fitting in" with my culture. When I was little, the only Asian people I saw were at church and at home. Even when I went to a Chinese restaurant in St. John's, the owner and all the patrons were all white. A "Chinese" dinner at "Hong Kong Restaurant" (that was the name, I swear to God) consisted of fried rice, chicken balls, egg rolls, and chicken noodle soup. It wasn't even Campbell's chicken noodle soup. Living here though, my family never eats that stuff when we go to Chinese restaurants. The one place that is a "Chinese-Canadian" restaurant here (Golden Palace on Carling. The egg rolls are to die for), my mother hates. I can understand why you hate that kind of food after growing up on it, and then moving to Canada and finding out that "Hong Kong Restaurant" was the only place in your town serving "Chinese food." It's sort of like growing up with daily neighborhood shootings and then moving out of Toronto. I can't let that one go.
Where was I? Oh yes. Tea. I've been drinking a lot of it recently and I'm finding it hard when you start out. There are so many kinds, especially at Starbucks. They all sound so deceivingly delicious too. "White Blueberry." "Passion." "Green Orange Passion." The reason I say deceivingly is because these flavors taste NOTHING like their advertised fruit and need at least 6 spoonfuls of sugar to help that medicine go down. When you say "can I have a regular tea?", they just look at you like an idiot and ask "what kind of tea?" because "regular" in the barista girl's mind means "tall." That information is handy for later when you ask the barista girl "do you wanna go out with a regular guy?"
"YU SOUL REGULAR!"
I've never been good at "fitting in" with my culture. When I was little, the only Asian people I saw were at church and at home. Even when I went to a Chinese restaurant in St. John's, the owner and all the patrons were all white. A "Chinese" dinner at "Hong Kong Restaurant" (that was the name, I swear to God) consisted of fried rice, chicken balls, egg rolls, and chicken noodle soup. It wasn't even Campbell's chicken noodle soup. Living here though, my family never eats that stuff when we go to Chinese restaurants. The one place that is a "Chinese-Canadian" restaurant here (Golden Palace on Carling. The egg rolls are to die for), my mother hates. I can understand why you hate that kind of food after growing up on it, and then moving to Canada and finding out that "Hong Kong Restaurant" was the only place in your town serving "Chinese food." It's sort of like growing up with daily neighborhood shootings and then moving out of Toronto. I can't let that one go.
Where was I? Oh yes. Tea. I've been drinking a lot of it recently and I'm finding it hard when you start out. There are so many kinds, especially at Starbucks. They all sound so deceivingly delicious too. "White Blueberry." "Passion." "Green Orange Passion." The reason I say deceivingly is because these flavors taste NOTHING like their advertised fruit and need at least 6 spoonfuls of sugar to help that medicine go down. When you say "can I have a regular tea?", they just look at you like an idiot and ask "what kind of tea?" because "regular" in the barista girl's mind means "tall." That information is handy for later when you ask the barista girl "do you wanna go out with a regular guy?"
"YU SOUL REGULAR!"
Monday, January 21, 2008
Atonement
I'm back, back from a month long "hiatus." Did you miss me? You did didn't you. Since you're probably reading this on Facebook notes, you're probably just glad that you're reading something that's NOT stolen from ________ because he/she is bored. So many reposted quizzes and surveys, so little time. It'll probably take a few days for me to get back into the swing of my blog things (I'd never thought I'd live to see the day I use "blog" in a dirty connotation), but a month off has offered a lot of stupid people in the news and the world around me to go unpunished (by my words).
First to atone: Last week, Toronto Mayor David Miller's call for an "absolute ban" on handguns in Canada. Weren't you supposed to do this like... forever ago? I mean, what made you all of a sudden come up with the bright idea? Could it be the two people that died from stray bullets in the past week in your city? Or the hundreds that die across your city and the near thousands that die all across Canada each year? While an "absolute ban" will actually never happen, it's about bloody time you're speaking up. Although I do understand why he didn't speak up before: he didn't want to get shot. Understandable. After all, he does live in Toronto.
Next to atone: The Razzie Awards, the awards that claim to "de-honour" Hollywood's worst movies has some explaining to do. I think I speak for everyone in demanding a recount when "Good Luck Chuck" was shut out from the major movie nominations. Have they even seen that piece of crap?
Call up the Atone Phone: Hollywood. What has this world come to when we can't even celebrate the achievements of our biggest stars by watching a gala on TV? Instead, Hollywood's biggest nights have turned into press conferences. If I want to see awards being given out without all the prestige that comes with an awards show, I'll watch MTV Video Music Awards, thank you very much. If I want to see awards given out without all the excitement, I'll watch the Governor General's Performing Arts Awards, thank you very much.
Lastly, atone: Hilary Clinton for (among other things) crying. America can't have (another) president that cries when faced with something tough. Crying, though, has gotten a lot of people in history what they want including:
He wants his bottle.
He wants Joey.
I don't know what he wants.
First to atone: Last week, Toronto Mayor David Miller's call for an "absolute ban" on handguns in Canada. Weren't you supposed to do this like... forever ago? I mean, what made you all of a sudden come up with the bright idea? Could it be the two people that died from stray bullets in the past week in your city? Or the hundreds that die across your city and the near thousands that die all across Canada each year? While an "absolute ban" will actually never happen, it's about bloody time you're speaking up. Although I do understand why he didn't speak up before: he didn't want to get shot. Understandable. After all, he does live in Toronto.
Next to atone: The Razzie Awards, the awards that claim to "de-honour" Hollywood's worst movies has some explaining to do. I think I speak for everyone in demanding a recount when "Good Luck Chuck" was shut out from the major movie nominations. Have they even seen that piece of crap?
Call up the Atone Phone: Hollywood. What has this world come to when we can't even celebrate the achievements of our biggest stars by watching a gala on TV? Instead, Hollywood's biggest nights have turned into press conferences. If I want to see awards being given out without all the prestige that comes with an awards show, I'll watch MTV Video Music Awards, thank you very much. If I want to see awards given out without all the excitement, I'll watch the Governor General's Performing Arts Awards, thank you very much.
Lastly, atone: Hilary Clinton for (among other things) crying. America can't have (another) president that cries when faced with something tough. Crying, though, has gotten a lot of people in history what they want including:
He wants his bottle.
He wants Joey.
I don't know what he wants.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Chicago
December 28th – 6:30PM EST
And we’re off. Greyhound bus schedule 0357 from Toronto, ON to Chicago, IL with a stop in London, Detroit, and Greyhound-god-only-knows-where-else. I bought a journal type book at the cigar and magazine store below the Toronto Coach Terminals because I thought it might be fun to road blog. Yes that’s right, the blog has gone back. All the way back to before there were even blogs. Just me, my pen, and my puppy dog journal.
There really wasn’t much choice in the matter regarding the front of the journal.
The Toronto Coach Terminals really sucks. You have to wait outside for a bus, and move aside every time a bus comes in to load people. The washrooms ALWAYS seem to be in a constant state of cleaning which means everyone has to use the single handicap washroom on the main level. I saw signs that said “don’t feed the birds” and laughed at the notion that there might be birds inside the terminal, especially during the winter months. The pigeon that nearly flew into my head shut me up pretty quickly.
The Greyhound bus itself is a thing to behold; you’ll find all sorts of people on the bus. On this bus? Lots of non-North Americans. When the Greyhound Girl was checking passports, the 10 people in front and behind me were all carrying citizenship cards and passports from a county that wasn’t Canada or the US. My best guess as to why they’re headed south of the border: to claim refuge status. Ok, ok I know what you’re probably saying: “Enoch you asspants, why don’t they just claim refuge status in Canada?” Well Lil’ Timmy, our dollar is really high these days and immigrants looking to purchase items such as a house, a car, or bulk drugs to start a new life are looking for the cheapest option. That option is Amedika.
One of the girls behind me is headed to Chatam (aka Who Cares, Ontario) and talking to a new bus buddy (headed for Detroit. So what, they’re talking loudly and I’m creepy. Sue me) about the difference in the university system between Canada and the US. Bus buddies are fun… most of the time. For this leg of the trip, I have decided to forego the making of any bus buddies cuz I just wanna stretch out in two both seats. When I got on the bus, I proceeded to be an ass and sit on the aisle seat, pop in my earphones, and muster up my biggest “I’m a big fat jerkbag” face so no one would sit beside me. For a long trip like this, a little asseyness goes a long way in ensuring a little comfort. Window seats are overrated. Sitting on the aisle gives my freakishly long legs a chance to stretch out. Of course at the next stop, someone is going to get on and sit in my nice empty seat before I even get a chance to sleep in it. Greeeaaaattt.
One of the Asian guys beside me (represent) must really be regretting his purchase in Toronto right about now: a giant plush mushroom from the Mario games. I don’t even know if Mushroom has a proper name. See, if I were doing this at a computer, I would have the resources to Wikipedia that sort of thing up. PROOF BABY. Mushroom is sitting on this guy’s lap and reaches to his head in height and spans the width of the seat in front of him to within inches of his face. For his sake, I hope he gets off soon (that’s what she said), otherwise in another 12 hours, he might not wanna see or eat a mushroom ever again. Even the trippy kind.
Speaking of things you never want to see again, if I see another ad for Josh Groban’s “Noel” album, I’m going to freak. No wonder this was the biggest selling CD of the year! I’m pretty sure a couple million of those were purchased right here in Toronto; how could you not with Josh Groban’s pretty face telling you it’s available every street corner, highway exit, and urinal stall.
Look at me! I’m Josh Groban!
December 28th – 8:45PM EST
Rest stop at the London Greyhound station. My Fruit Explosion muffin from the nearby Tim Horton’s didn’t have the juicy explosion in the middle. What a jip. Every time I eat one nowadays, there’s a 50/50 chance as to whether there’s a creamy centre or not. I JUST WANNA HAVE FRUIT GO BANG BANG IN MY MOUTH. Suffice to say, one of the many examples Tim’s continues go down. Hill. I really have to finish my sentences.
I think the city buses here in London are made by the same company that makes the OC Transpo ones. Same colours too! I don’t really know why London needs the long articulated buses though; it’s not like there’s enough people that live in London to use them! Oh snap. I think for those that live in Ottawa (no matter where in Ottawa. That’s right, I’m including you Kanata, Orleans, Barrhaven, and outlying areas folks in this), we sometimes take for granted that we live in one of the best all around cities. Everything is relatively close, the city is very straight forward, and we have all the essentials and more. Granted, we don’t have a Mary Brown’s Chicken like they do here in London. That place is the SHIT! Their taters are the best in the world. I sure hope there’s one in Chicago.
December 29th – 6:34AM CST
So I’m in Chicago. Where in Chicago? I’m not really sure. The Starbucks baristas couldn’t really help me out with that one, but they did ask one of the Saturday 6:30 in the morning regulars to point my location out on a Chicago transit map I printed out at home. I’m somewhere North. Really North. When I got off the bus, I walked like 10-20 blocks looking for something that was open. I then got in a cab and asked him to find me something that was open. Half an hour after I got off the bus, I found this Starbucks somewhere North. Really North. It’s also the first Starbucks I’ve seen here in Chicago. You’d think there would be more, equal or greater to the amount of Tim Hortons in London or Windsor. In either of those cities, you could throw up your Fruit Explosion-less muffins in disgust and chunks would hit at least three Tims around you.
I’m going on no sleep from the night. I’m usually a light sleeper but it doesn’t help matters when the bus driver blasts some radio station through the bus intercom system the entire night. Even with my Shure E2C Sound Insulating ear phones or my ear plugs, it wouldn’t block out the sounds of songs such as The Beatles’ All You Need Is Love or Aretha Franklin’s Respect. I also left my ear plugs on the bus (the $1 ones, not the $100 ones) so I think I’m going to go pick some up from the very brightly lit 24 hour drug store that’s across the street from me right now.
Speaking of bus buddies, the girl that got on in London and sat next to me (told ya) turned out to be really cool. So much for not making a bus buddy on this trip. We bonded over Ontario universities (UofO vs. Western) and Chicago. More specifically, my lack of knowledge of Chicago and trusty hints such as which direction to walk when I got off the bus, for without that, I would be somewhere in Indiana right now.
Ahhh. Trusty Starbucks. The same store in both countries. Same menu. Same music. I don’t really know what I’m going to do for another couple hours after I finish my venti apple cider (side note: Canadian Sarah Harmer is on the Starbucks radio. CAN CON ROCK). I think I’m going to take advantage of their washroom and use it to brush my teeth and wash my face after a long night of no running water. Hobo life rocks! Just ask one of many that are lurking in the entrances. Oh wait, not anymore. Starbucks barista girl has shoed them away. I want a Starbucks barista girl.
Hey! FedEx Kinko’s is open 24 hours too! Maybe I can go in and pretend to mail something…
December 29th – 7:30AM
Still at Starbucks. James Taylor sounds fucking sweet. Note to self when you get home: download James Taylor. I can also see, by the sheer number of Alvin and the Chipmunks ads on taxi cabs, how that movie has earned $80 million to date. I guess Alvin is to Chicago as Josh Groban is to Toronto. Kudos to the marketing for a good campaign for what I’ve heard is an absolutely horrendous movie.
The ad campaign as depicted by me. What a terrible drawing.
December 29th – 9:05AM
Argo Tea (somewhere in Chicago’s Theatre district). As you can see, killing time for me means killing George Washingtons (you just wait. “Killing George Washingtons” will be the hippest phrase in 2008). After Starucks, I went to this place called the Original Pancake House which was jam packed at 8:00AM (although, when else would it be packed…). I’m going to go ahead and say that the restaurant is pretty popular, especially when there was least 20 people working for a place that holds maybe 50 people and a long hallway designated for people waiting to get in. Sorta like Cora’s in Canada but more considerate.
Now, I’m in the Chicago Theatre district.
(My picture, pretty sweet eh?)
As I just texted Julie, I don’t really know exactly how I got here or how I’m going to get to my next destination. That’s been my theme this morning. You can tell it’s the theatre district just by the two guys working at this shop. My guess: both failed and/or aspiring actors. They even have a cute “Actors” label on the door usually marked “Employees Only.” Nice touch as it probably reminds these guys every time they pass through it that they haven’t made it yet. That they, for the foreseeable future, won’t be hitting the stage next door at the Oriental Theatre (currently, home to the sit-down production of Wicked) and instead serve the PAs the coffees they ordered for the cast of Wicked on a Argo run. One of the guys could probably double for Toby on Degrassi or for a shorter version of one of the Spring Awakening guys. The other guy could probably play a pirate in an adaptation of Pirates Of The Caribbean. Not the Johnny Depp character. Or any of the speaking lines. Someone in the ensemble. Just like me, this guy’s gonna be here a while.
The nice ticket lady at the subway station really helped me figure out the transporting-of-me-to-where-I-wanted-to-go side of things. I now have a handy-dandy 24 hour pass to get me around town right now and later on tonight for the Umphrey’s concert. ROCK.
Maybe some cast members from Wicked might come in proudly displaying some cast shirt or jacket so I know they’re from Wicked. Yeah, screw that. They’re not Kristin Chenoweth or Idina Menzel which means that don’t deserve my stalking time.
December 29th – 11:25AM
Some coffeeshop in Lombard, IL. I DID IT! I conquered the Chicago transit system! All in the span of six hours. SUCK IT. Bus, cab, subway, train, walking, I did it all! I have also had a different non-coffee drink in each of the coffee establishments I have been in this morning. Cider, water, tea, and now hot chocolate in this really small place in Lombard. All is good, minus the no sleep part. It really hit me on that 45 minute ride out to the suburbs on the Metra (look at me, fitting in). Even with a hopeful few hours of sleep this afternoon, this no sleep thing could be a really cool drug at tonight’s concert since I’ll be attending it sober thanks to the 21+ drinking age. If Lindsay can do it underaged, why can’t I!?!? Non-celebrity life is SO unfair. Well I guess it does have its ups and downs:
Me in a underaged celebrity mugshot. Not my finest hour.
I’m pretty sure the owner of this place is pissed at me, his only customer. He probably wishes I wasn’t here so he can smoke a joint in the back of this joint. Too bad for him! As the buyer of a $2 70US drink, I’m entitled to sit in this establishment until said drink is finished. SUCK IT.
December 29th – 2:30PM
Nancy and Dave’s house. Me tired. Sleep. Now.
January 1st – 11:20PM EST
Somewhere in Michigan, I think. HAPPY FUCKING NEW YEAR. I haven’t updated in the past few days I know. I’ve been having way too much fun with rarely a free moment to spare. Here’s a short list of things from the past few days:
Umphrey’s McGee
The reason I came to Chicago. They played three of the most amazing concerts I have ever seen with night three/NYE being one of my top concerts of all time. The NYE show was also probably their best of the year (that’s coming from me and a number of their fans on The Bort [Umphreys’ message board] who have all listened to or attended a large chunk of shows this year). You really should have been there.
Chicago food
I have eaten some of the best food ever my past few days. Whether it was at the Johansson/Boutcher household, Portillo’s Hot Dogs, or even Popeyes Chicken and Biscuits (I’m pretty sure if you eat more than one of those biscuits in your lifetime, those pure butter tea biscuits, you will die. No doubt about it), the food was amazing!
People I’ve met
Chicago really does a get an undeserved bad reputation when it comes to its people. Of course many of the people I did meet weren’t actually from Chicago… but it still counts!
I’m speeding through Michigan in a snow storm. I can’t wait to do it all again next year.
January 2nd – 1:09AM
Canadian Border in Windsor, ON. Just a small thing before I go. I just went through Canadian Customs and Immigration eating a fruit cup. Our whole bus (which has almost exactly the same number of people here as there was on the way to the US) got through customs in 15 minutes. Compare that to the hour and a half we took getting into America. I guess getting cheap bulk drugs and bringing them back to Canada isn’t that hard. Note to self when you get home: get cheap bulk drugs next time you go to America.
Special thanks to Sarah, Dave, Nancy, Julie, everyone I met, and everyone that helped me (cuz I know ticket lady and 6:30AM regular at Starbucks guy are reading this) for making NYE in and around Chicago amazing.
And we’re off. Greyhound bus schedule 0357 from Toronto, ON to Chicago, IL with a stop in London, Detroit, and Greyhound-god-only-knows-where-else. I bought a journal type book at the cigar and magazine store below the Toronto Coach Terminals because I thought it might be fun to road blog. Yes that’s right, the blog has gone back. All the way back to before there were even blogs. Just me, my pen, and my puppy dog journal.
There really wasn’t much choice in the matter regarding the front of the journal.The Toronto Coach Terminals really sucks. You have to wait outside for a bus, and move aside every time a bus comes in to load people. The washrooms ALWAYS seem to be in a constant state of cleaning which means everyone has to use the single handicap washroom on the main level. I saw signs that said “don’t feed the birds” and laughed at the notion that there might be birds inside the terminal, especially during the winter months. The pigeon that nearly flew into my head shut me up pretty quickly.
The Greyhound bus itself is a thing to behold; you’ll find all sorts of people on the bus. On this bus? Lots of non-North Americans. When the Greyhound Girl was checking passports, the 10 people in front and behind me were all carrying citizenship cards and passports from a county that wasn’t Canada or the US. My best guess as to why they’re headed south of the border: to claim refuge status. Ok, ok I know what you’re probably saying: “Enoch you asspants, why don’t they just claim refuge status in Canada?” Well Lil’ Timmy, our dollar is really high these days and immigrants looking to purchase items such as a house, a car, or bulk drugs to start a new life are looking for the cheapest option. That option is Amedika.
One of the girls behind me is headed to Chatam (aka Who Cares, Ontario) and talking to a new bus buddy (headed for Detroit. So what, they’re talking loudly and I’m creepy. Sue me) about the difference in the university system between Canada and the US. Bus buddies are fun… most of the time. For this leg of the trip, I have decided to forego the making of any bus buddies cuz I just wanna stretch out in two both seats. When I got on the bus, I proceeded to be an ass and sit on the aisle seat, pop in my earphones, and muster up my biggest “I’m a big fat jerkbag” face so no one would sit beside me. For a long trip like this, a little asseyness goes a long way in ensuring a little comfort. Window seats are overrated. Sitting on the aisle gives my freakishly long legs a chance to stretch out. Of course at the next stop, someone is going to get on and sit in my nice empty seat before I even get a chance to sleep in it. Greeeaaaattt.
One of the Asian guys beside me (represent) must really be regretting his purchase in Toronto right about now: a giant plush mushroom from the Mario games. I don’t even know if Mushroom has a proper name. See, if I were doing this at a computer, I would have the resources to Wikipedia that sort of thing up. PROOF BABY. Mushroom is sitting on this guy’s lap and reaches to his head in height and spans the width of the seat in front of him to within inches of his face. For his sake, I hope he gets off soon (that’s what she said), otherwise in another 12 hours, he might not wanna see or eat a mushroom ever again. Even the trippy kind.
Speaking of things you never want to see again, if I see another ad for Josh Groban’s “Noel” album, I’m going to freak. No wonder this was the biggest selling CD of the year! I’m pretty sure a couple million of those were purchased right here in Toronto; how could you not with Josh Groban’s pretty face telling you it’s available every street corner, highway exit, and urinal stall.
Look at me! I’m Josh Groban!December 28th – 8:45PM EST
Rest stop at the London Greyhound station. My Fruit Explosion muffin from the nearby Tim Horton’s didn’t have the juicy explosion in the middle. What a jip. Every time I eat one nowadays, there’s a 50/50 chance as to whether there’s a creamy centre or not. I JUST WANNA HAVE FRUIT GO BANG BANG IN MY MOUTH. Suffice to say, one of the many examples Tim’s continues go down. Hill. I really have to finish my sentences.
I think the city buses here in London are made by the same company that makes the OC Transpo ones. Same colours too! I don’t really know why London needs the long articulated buses though; it’s not like there’s enough people that live in London to use them! Oh snap. I think for those that live in Ottawa (no matter where in Ottawa. That’s right, I’m including you Kanata, Orleans, Barrhaven, and outlying areas folks in this), we sometimes take for granted that we live in one of the best all around cities. Everything is relatively close, the city is very straight forward, and we have all the essentials and more. Granted, we don’t have a Mary Brown’s Chicken like they do here in London. That place is the SHIT! Their taters are the best in the world. I sure hope there’s one in Chicago.
December 29th – 6:34AM CST
So I’m in Chicago. Where in Chicago? I’m not really sure. The Starbucks baristas couldn’t really help me out with that one, but they did ask one of the Saturday 6:30 in the morning regulars to point my location out on a Chicago transit map I printed out at home. I’m somewhere North. Really North. When I got off the bus, I walked like 10-20 blocks looking for something that was open. I then got in a cab and asked him to find me something that was open. Half an hour after I got off the bus, I found this Starbucks somewhere North. Really North. It’s also the first Starbucks I’ve seen here in Chicago. You’d think there would be more, equal or greater to the amount of Tim Hortons in London or Windsor. In either of those cities, you could throw up your Fruit Explosion-less muffins in disgust and chunks would hit at least three Tims around you.
I’m going on no sleep from the night. I’m usually a light sleeper but it doesn’t help matters when the bus driver blasts some radio station through the bus intercom system the entire night. Even with my Shure E2C Sound Insulating ear phones or my ear plugs, it wouldn’t block out the sounds of songs such as The Beatles’ All You Need Is Love or Aretha Franklin’s Respect. I also left my ear plugs on the bus (the $1 ones, not the $100 ones) so I think I’m going to go pick some up from the very brightly lit 24 hour drug store that’s across the street from me right now.
Speaking of bus buddies, the girl that got on in London and sat next to me (told ya) turned out to be really cool. So much for not making a bus buddy on this trip. We bonded over Ontario universities (UofO vs. Western) and Chicago. More specifically, my lack of knowledge of Chicago and trusty hints such as which direction to walk when I got off the bus, for without that, I would be somewhere in Indiana right now.
Ahhh. Trusty Starbucks. The same store in both countries. Same menu. Same music. I don’t really know what I’m going to do for another couple hours after I finish my venti apple cider (side note: Canadian Sarah Harmer is on the Starbucks radio. CAN CON ROCK). I think I’m going to take advantage of their washroom and use it to brush my teeth and wash my face after a long night of no running water. Hobo life rocks! Just ask one of many that are lurking in the entrances. Oh wait, not anymore. Starbucks barista girl has shoed them away. I want a Starbucks barista girl.
Hey! FedEx Kinko’s is open 24 hours too! Maybe I can go in and pretend to mail something…
December 29th – 7:30AM
Still at Starbucks. James Taylor sounds fucking sweet. Note to self when you get home: download James Taylor. I can also see, by the sheer number of Alvin and the Chipmunks ads on taxi cabs, how that movie has earned $80 million to date. I guess Alvin is to Chicago as Josh Groban is to Toronto. Kudos to the marketing for a good campaign for what I’ve heard is an absolutely horrendous movie.
The ad campaign as depicted by me. What a terrible drawing.December 29th – 9:05AM
Argo Tea (somewhere in Chicago’s Theatre district). As you can see, killing time for me means killing George Washingtons (you just wait. “Killing George Washingtons” will be the hippest phrase in 2008). After Starucks, I went to this place called the Original Pancake House which was jam packed at 8:00AM (although, when else would it be packed…). I’m going to go ahead and say that the restaurant is pretty popular, especially when there was least 20 people working for a place that holds maybe 50 people and a long hallway designated for people waiting to get in. Sorta like Cora’s in Canada but more considerate.
Now, I’m in the Chicago Theatre district.
(My picture, pretty sweet eh?)As I just texted Julie, I don’t really know exactly how I got here or how I’m going to get to my next destination. That’s been my theme this morning. You can tell it’s the theatre district just by the two guys working at this shop. My guess: both failed and/or aspiring actors. They even have a cute “Actors” label on the door usually marked “Employees Only.” Nice touch as it probably reminds these guys every time they pass through it that they haven’t made it yet. That they, for the foreseeable future, won’t be hitting the stage next door at the Oriental Theatre (currently, home to the sit-down production of Wicked) and instead serve the PAs the coffees they ordered for the cast of Wicked on a Argo run. One of the guys could probably double for Toby on Degrassi or for a shorter version of one of the Spring Awakening guys. The other guy could probably play a pirate in an adaptation of Pirates Of The Caribbean. Not the Johnny Depp character. Or any of the speaking lines. Someone in the ensemble. Just like me, this guy’s gonna be here a while.
The nice ticket lady at the subway station really helped me figure out the transporting-of-me-to-where-I-wanted-to-go side of things. I now have a handy-dandy 24 hour pass to get me around town right now and later on tonight for the Umphrey’s concert. ROCK.
Maybe some cast members from Wicked might come in proudly displaying some cast shirt or jacket so I know they’re from Wicked. Yeah, screw that. They’re not Kristin Chenoweth or Idina Menzel which means that don’t deserve my stalking time.
December 29th – 11:25AM
Some coffeeshop in Lombard, IL. I DID IT! I conquered the Chicago transit system! All in the span of six hours. SUCK IT. Bus, cab, subway, train, walking, I did it all! I have also had a different non-coffee drink in each of the coffee establishments I have been in this morning. Cider, water, tea, and now hot chocolate in this really small place in Lombard. All is good, minus the no sleep part. It really hit me on that 45 minute ride out to the suburbs on the Metra (look at me, fitting in). Even with a hopeful few hours of sleep this afternoon, this no sleep thing could be a really cool drug at tonight’s concert since I’ll be attending it sober thanks to the 21+ drinking age. If Lindsay can do it underaged, why can’t I!?!? Non-celebrity life is SO unfair. Well I guess it does have its ups and downs:
Me in a underaged celebrity mugshot. Not my finest hour.I’m pretty sure the owner of this place is pissed at me, his only customer. He probably wishes I wasn’t here so he can smoke a joint in the back of this joint. Too bad for him! As the buyer of a $2 70US drink, I’m entitled to sit in this establishment until said drink is finished. SUCK IT.
December 29th – 2:30PM
Nancy and Dave’s house. Me tired. Sleep. Now.
January 1st – 11:20PM EST
Somewhere in Michigan, I think. HAPPY FUCKING NEW YEAR. I haven’t updated in the past few days I know. I’ve been having way too much fun with rarely a free moment to spare. Here’s a short list of things from the past few days:
Umphrey’s McGee
The reason I came to Chicago. They played three of the most amazing concerts I have ever seen with night three/NYE being one of my top concerts of all time. The NYE show was also probably their best of the year (that’s coming from me and a number of their fans on The Bort [Umphreys’ message board] who have all listened to or attended a large chunk of shows this year). You really should have been there.Chicago food
I have eaten some of the best food ever my past few days. Whether it was at the Johansson/Boutcher household, Portillo’s Hot Dogs, or even Popeyes Chicken and Biscuits (I’m pretty sure if you eat more than one of those biscuits in your lifetime, those pure butter tea biscuits, you will die. No doubt about it), the food was amazing!
People I’ve met
Chicago really does a get an undeserved bad reputation when it comes to its people. Of course many of the people I did meet weren’t actually from Chicago… but it still counts!
I’m speeding through Michigan in a snow storm. I can’t wait to do it all again next year.
January 2nd – 1:09AM
Canadian Border in Windsor, ON. Just a small thing before I go. I just went through Canadian Customs and Immigration eating a fruit cup. Our whole bus (which has almost exactly the same number of people here as there was on the way to the US) got through customs in 15 minutes. Compare that to the hour and a half we took getting into America. I guess getting cheap bulk drugs and bringing them back to Canada isn’t that hard. Note to self when you get home: get cheap bulk drugs next time you go to America.
Special thanks to Sarah, Dave, Nancy, Julie, everyone I met, and everyone that helped me (cuz I know ticket lady and 6:30AM regular at Starbucks guy are reading this) for making NYE in and around Chicago amazing.
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