A little bit of "look at me now"

It's amazing what monotony does to the mind. One second you're skipping off to start your routine for the day (and by "routine" I mean those quirky schedule-like things you did for the first time last week) and the next second it's week 6 of the semester, you're downing a steady diet of Ramen Noodles, and you're the proud wearer of a playoff beard that would be worthy of Eric Cole himself. The beard part refers exclusively to male readers, of course, but you get the point. I won't say I've suffered such a moment, but the last 5 weeks have FLOWN by, and I haven't done much else but truck to the library, then truck it to class, then shuffle back home.
Then all of a sudden, events started to happen. Not Minority Report stuff like "THE UNIVERSITY IS CONVERTING EVERYTHING TO TOUCH SCREENS" or anything epic like that, just a bunch of random and not so random things proximal enough to make one stop and say "hmmm, cool."

Saturday I was blessed with my first dance workshop of the year (note: there isn't enough of that in Gainesville). Needless to say I'm still in pain, but that's the beauty of it right?

Monday night I was blessed with the enigma that is Tiesto (see facebook for relevant media).

On three separate occasions three days in a row I have by chance arrived at my bus stop at the EXACT moment the bus arrived.

Publix, the grocery store I frequent (and the establishment that will be furnishing me with potentially thousands of dollars in savings coupons (if I haven't been the target of fraud)) sells THREE types of Alexander Keith's AND Moosehead.
BLAAMO, bitches.

Columbian food arrived with a magical fairy from Miami as well as the biggest avocado you've ever seen (from which I concocted some devastatingly delicious guacamole).

I obtained 10th row tickets to Gators v. Alabama this weekend (the most epic match of the season so far seeing as Alabama is ranked third in the country and victory here would put us back into the conversation for National League Champions).

And my best friend of over 21 years got engaged this past weekend and officially knighted me as best mate for the big day. I don't think I could be more honored and I can't wait for all the activities that go along with weddings and engagement parties and all that flowery stuff.

So what does all this mean? It means that school is not associated with fun. Sure things at school and things related to school are tons of fun, but no matter how much you enjoy it, no matter how passionate you are, there's nothing that can bring your head back above water like something distinctly NON-SCHOOL.
Sure I'm a tad behind in my work, sure I manage to sometimes get chocolate on the lower back part of my shirt incidentally making it look like a poo stain (wait, that has nothing to do with what I'm trying to say.... backspace, I need backspace..... BACKSPACE)....... sure I'm not as comfortable with the proximity of my deadlines, but who the hell cares; if dancing, music, and sports put me under a bit of pressure, bring it on. In fact, bring it on twice. Bring it on so many times that if I had the choice to rewind and do it again, I would do it again.

And if all that fails, get one of your friends to propose and enjoy the subsequent celebrations. I love contingency plans.


I won't lie, I'm in class, so posting pictures and making this post look handsome is impossible as I can barely chew gum and do quantum physics at the same time.
Until next time, faithful readers
I bid ya'll adieu,

-Mtl Gator

PS. I apologize if I offended any women with healthy beards or readers with poo stains on the lower back parts of their shirt.

lest we forget

As is so often the case with momentous occasions, distance from them diminishes not their importance, but their impact on our emotions. It is as if the farther one is away from such an event, the denser the film between it and their eyes. Physical and temporal distance seem to drape an ever thicker veil over the mind's comprehension. Like a television flattening out the world for all to watch, separation flattens these events onto another plane of existence. 

For the majority of the world, such were the events of 9/11/01. Terrific, yet far away. Important, yet not real. Relevant, yet incomprehensible. A hundred million dualities were created that day; the working memories seared into minds not able to grasp their magnitude. Apocalypse.

Despite the seeming incomprehensibility, the import of the situation had its day. There is not a soul who doesn't remember the moment they heard the news. I know where I was, what class I was in, what row and what seat. 

High school.

Grade nine math.

Second row.

Middle seat. 

The principal entered, and with a tone that much more deliberate, that much more sombre, he broke the news. To a handful of fourteen-year-olds, it was a tragic action movie, playing back as slowly as the principal spoke it. Had he left right then and there, we as a class might have turned back to the board half expecting to get on with polynomials. But that split second pause, that moment where he seemed to make eye contact with everyone at once, gave his words the gravitas to make us waver. The silent concussion of comprehension emanating from the teacher hit us with terrible force. I remember, as a group, looking outside half expecting to see an airplane headed straight for our insignificant building. I remember expecting dozens of phone calls calling children home to safety. I remember thinking, maybe school will be cancelled. I remember wondering if this was some twisted version of war. There was an action movie happening just next door, but the actors were real, and there were no second takes.

Within six hours, there wasn't a soul who didn't watch the twin towers crumble to the ground like a house of cards. There wasn't a person alive who didn't watch endless replays of billowing dust, explosions, and seemingly toy-like planes flying into miniature TV buildings. There also wasn't a soul left who wasn't confronted with blood and tears and an estimated death toll that just didn't seem to slow down.

What is one to do at a time like this? Too late to do anything really, and too soon to want to do anything. There was really only one option: keep one eye on the TV screen, and one eye on the rest of your life. Watch the victims and the families of victims grasp the moment while also watching the timer on the oven. Do nothing but stare at the carnage, and do your homework. 

Ask yourself how while also asking why.

With a sickening lack of emotion, life moved inexorably on. No matter how hard one dug their heels in, they got dragged through the mud. With a certainty devoid of affect, days went by. One was left to wonder what the point was. What's your roll if you have no roll, no import, no impact? If people die, and life doesn't care, then who cares?

The answer is simple. We care.

Whether one minute removed from the crushing weight of a building collapse, or a thousand miles removed from Ground Zero, the single duty of every human being is to care. And to care one must remember. That is it.

3,051 children lost a parent.

2,977 lives were taken.

1,609 lost a husband or wife.

623 police and firemen did not go home. 

It is our responsibility to remember them, and remember that one day can change the world. Whether it be for vigilance, for respect, or sense of duty, remember. Whether it be for a family member or members of a family you no nothing about, remember. A decade after a tragedy, we must revitalize the somewhat distant memory of an event that still seems like a dark fairy tale. Color it in again like an old tattoo. To not remember is to erase, and that would be the greatest fallacy of all. 

We must remember lest we forget.

a few things....

Remember when I said I wouldn't wait too long between posts..... well I totally lied. At the time of that magnanimous statement, I forgot one critical variable: school work. The main difference between moving into an apartment and school work? When you're done school work, you have NO desire to sit in front of a computer screen and start typing away. Even when I do my work early, even when I start it days ahead, it only seems to get done JUST on time. I even have to study just to be able to study, what's up with THAT.
Anyway, I'm not here to make excuses, but rather, to finally throw something onto this blog to make myself feel better. No pictures, short and sweet, in and out. What to put in the shortest post ever? The highlights of course. What have been the highlights since my last post the day before school?
1. I have friends (celebrate)
2. People here love socks and sandals (so do I btw, but people here REALLY love it)
3. oh yah... THE BOYZ CAME!!!!!

So, here's how it happened. That fateful Tuesday morning I left the apartment and I decided to take the umbrella with me; I was all adult like and checked the weather that morning. I was prepared. On my way home, 23 seconds before stepping off the bus, it started to pour. People in the bus started nervously glancing around like it was time to pick partners for umbrella sharing. Naturally, I puffed my chest out; I was prepared. About 7.5 seconds before stepping off the bus, it REALLY started to rain. Like, not just heavy rain, but I-need-a-rubberized-jumpsuit-to-get-home-dry rain. I got a little nervous. I mean, I was wearing my new shoes. So who steps out of the bus next to me? Captain Unprepared hugging his school bag cause his laptop had no chance of getting home unless he used himself as a human shield. Yah, I helped him; we shared the umbrella (which really means, his bag stayed dry while the both of us bathed and walked). AND I walked him home which was an adventure I'd rather not talk about at the moment. Suffice to say I reached the apartment a little uplifted, a little soaked, and a little panicky (the shoes!).

I proceeded with my post class ritual of snack (Kraft Dinner), entertainment (Modern Family), and procrastination (more Modern Family). Just as I was entering my stage 2 procrastination ("organizing" and printing notes), I was presented with a violent knock at the door. I could honestly say I was confused..... no one comes to see me. With my mind still whirling, I opened the door to an assault of

AAA BBOONNNJJJOOUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!

*#&^$#@^&$%!^!#(*&^@%)!!)&*^%!!!

bahahhaha these clowns flew from Montreal and surprised me at the door! ARE YOU KIDDING ME. Let's just say I didn't get any work done and thank goodness it was labor day weekend. Whether it was shisha under blacklight, talking about catching grouper at a local bar, or line dancing at a western club, we did it all Gainesville style. A few comments regarding wisdom I gained during this time:
1. I need to acquire cowboy boots and a cowboy hat
2. My Montreal peoples have to move to Gainesville
3. The number one quality of an eligible bachelor in Gainesville is the ability to catch and kill a fish with your bare hands
4. When you ride around campus in a convertible Camaro blasting Sean Paul, people stare
5. Crosswalks matter, and the police care that they matter... and they don't care who's driving, even if you're Christopher Roberston

Obviously my knowledge has expanded beyond these points, but these are definitely the most important ones. I need to cut this post short mostly because I said I wanted to keep it that way, but also cause this Mac keeps notifying me I need to shut down firefox to enable and update. Ahhhh, how she always looks out for me.
Until next time (with a longer post and pictures), I bid you farewell.

-Montreal Gator

Ps. Took my baby out for the first time today, bought her a Neoprene sleeve and everything. She's growing up so fast.....