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Five Things I’ve Done This Spring While Not Writing Blog Posts

May 12, 2012

Oh, what? I haven’t posted a post in two months? Where have I been? I know visitors have been stopping by in my absence, but according to my stats it’s mainly people looking for a Burt Reynolds recipe. New idea for generating blog traffic: put a liquor recipe into every post, and two into every post with poetry in it.

I wish the hit counter would separate my visitors into two groups: the ones who came on purpose and/or actually read something, and the ones who came by accident and left within one second of realizing I don’t really write about grandmother anal (or anal grandmothers). There must be a way to teach a computer to detect its user’s intention…

I go through these periods, and I guess this has been one of them, of being, like, How can anyone justify reading or writing a blog when there are so many worthier things out there–novels, poems, news articles, e-mails from friends… It’s all part of my creative writing cynicism, the whole thing of being expected to have a Brand and a Web Presence and be really interested in new ideas for generating blog traffic and pay to take writing classes less for the education as for the connections to potential future door-openers and ingratiate myself with everyone who uses a pen recreationally so we can scratch each other’s backs into eternity. Fakeness and politics are as rampant in writing and publishing as they are in universities and corporations. I’ve set myself the probably impossible task of staying back from all of it so that if I do become a successful writer, meaning the kind that sends work out and routinely gets published by other people I suppose, I’ll know it’s because I earned it and not because I knew certain people or wrote about a certain trendy topic.

Anyway, whatever. We’re both here now, it’s a sunny Saturday morning, so let’s get this done so we can all enjoy a weekend-style 45-minute shower (in our respective homes, I mean) and proceed outdoors in a timely manner.


1. Worked a lot. Not in just a mindless panicked workaholic attempted-problem-avoidance way like usual, but in a positive, well-adjusted, I-actually-give-a-shit-and-I-want-to-do-everything-I-can-for-these-people way. For possibly the first time in my life, I have a job that I love, and it loves me back. I downright look forward to Mondays. It’s confusing, but I’m not going to argue with it. My class is a group of motivated, creative, and entertaining people. The other day after a 90-minute lesson on relative clauses that the teacher’s guide told me would take 20 minutes because it failed to account for the solid hour’s worth of questions from the class, one student called me “the best teacher in Vancouver.” I did argue with that for a while, but eventually accepted the compliment because it felt good and the sincerity was real even if the content was implausible.

2. Smoked a pipe like a consummate gentleman. I recently had the good fortune of spending a week in Calgary, and one highlight of the trip was lighting my birthday pipe for the first time. That sounds like a euphemism for something disgusting, but what I mean is, I sat out on my friend’s balcony while another friend, viz., the friend who had bought me a pipe for my birthday, attempted to show me how to light it while various onlookers and bystanders made comments and criticized my (terrible!) form. Now that I know it’s not like a cigarette or a crack pipe, I expect my next smoking and grumbling session to go a lot more smoothly, and to involve fewer than 20 so-called “light anywhere” matches.

3. Read a bunch of novels. I pretty much read nothing but poetry in 2010. “I’m off novels,” I remember saying to someone, or maybe many people. I was back on them by the middle of 2011, but in a kind of uncommitted way. By January I was once again reading them at a greedy pace, mainly to avoid thinking about life. Now it’s for all the good reasons: fun, relaxation, and free bonus education. I have mixed thoughts on my e-reader, but one awesome thing is the wealth of old novels available. For the low price of free ninety-nine, I’ve been able to make my way through quite a few of the classics I’ve always guilted myself for not having read. The results are in: Russian novels are just as depressing as I remembered. And confidential to Emma Bovary: I ain’t callin’ you a gold digger, / but you ain’t messin’ with no broke nigga.

4. Met someone. Someone who, it turned out, had never deserved my attention. Moving on!

5. Gotten the crazy screaming drunk bitch next door evicted. Loyal Bearders will recall that a series of detailed and infuriated letters to the building manager, along with a beyond-warranted call to the police, finally resulted in the eviction of my upstairs neighbour, a stomping abusive asshole probable drug dealer with an unfortunate girlfriend and a yappy dog, in late November. That was one goal accomplished. Meanwhile, the beotch to my right had been stepping up her always-obnoxious game to a point of having ten yelling, stomping, wall-shaking parties in March–many including epilogues in which she came home unhappy from the bar and threw things at the walls, out the window, etc. My second batch of angry letters earned her an eviction notice, and by the time I returned from Calgary (see 2 above), she was out of my life forever. Hooray!

And now, to cap off the post, a drink recipe:


1 shot of rum
1 half-can of Coke

In a glass or mug or something, mix the ingredients thoroughly with a spoon, or whatever thing you pull out of your silverware drawer. Add lime if a tangy twist is desired. For a stronger drink, simply add a second shot of rum.

This beverage can be made with any light or dark rum, many brands of which are deliciously available at your local liquor store.

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