On a slow night.

So today I was rooting through piles of old papers (such things happen when essays press hot thumbs to my temples, steel fingers to my shoulders) and I came across something of TYCHO'S which he is very embarassed about and which I must obviously share. He did this all himself using the self-timer on my camera while the rest of us were at school. Clever little gaffer... sort of. Anyway he is giving me the cold shoulder since I found this stuff but it's too good. Also I was making fun of him today for whistling through his nose while he slept so it has not been a good day for the little guy. I'll make it up to him tomorrow. I have a secret stash of jingly balls in my snoopy lunch box and there is almost nothing he loves more than jingly balls.
So this appears to be a series of photos detailing Tycho's Great Basement Escape Plan...

Step One: when the door is open, take a few steps down and scope out the prospects... Careful observation is key... Watch for potential obstacles (ie Mother Megan)




































Step Two: Make your way carefully down the stairs, always on the look out for danger!









































Step Three: Make your way carefully across the floor! Keep your nose open... every backpack could be an enemy!























Step Four: If trouble should come upon you... the lacey curtain does NOT make a good hiding spot. Note: does NOT.



















Step Five: Run like hell!



















Step Six: Head immediately for a place with Distinct Difficutly Of Human Reach.























Step Seven: Once Great Basement Escape Plan has been completed, return to normal life, and act exceedingly interested in trivial things to avoid suspicion of humans.
























THE END

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I'm wondering if it's true: does drinking the same kind of alcohol all the time make you sort of immune to it? This is my fourth Bacardi tonight and I hardly feel it. I think I am proving Derek's theory. Which is funny because the only reason I am proving it is because he's not here so I have no choice but to drink alone and no one to feel self-conscious in front of. I mean... no one in front of whom to feel self-conscious. And certainly no one to correct my grammar.

I did, however, watch a Woody Allen movie with Ben. Guy contemplating sperm donation in Hannah and Her Sisters:
"Well, I did give blood once. And, uh... clothing to the poor."

I should really be at a bar right now.

M O N T R E A L
I already have had one creative writing Concrodia student promising to buy me a beer during orientation week, and two current montrealers on the lookout for apartments for me... as well as several internet bookmarks for montreal housing sites.... and my mom has canvased her friends and gotten some good advice from parents of former montrealers, although said montrealers lived in a building that burnt down, so...... also I am having second thoughts about living alone. I guess this summer will teach me what it's like, but what if I don't like it and then it's too late? I have spent most of today imaging that the voices/thumps/clatters/MSN bleeps that echo through our house actually belong to strangers in a neighbouring apartment, in order to simulate the effect of complete isolation to see how it fits. The result: it's scary! At least I have Tycho. I wonder where he'll try to escape to when there's not more Woodward basement. What if that just takes the life out of him, not having a goal as distinct as scampering forward whenever he hears the basement door rattle? I will have to keep him stimulated somehow. This is going to take a LOT of jingly balls.

I'm listening to Metric right now...
"I wish we were farmers, I wish we knew how to grow sweet potatoes and milk cows." -Emily Haines (she goes on to say "I wish we were lovers" and the song obviously goes downhill from there.)

Lots of excellent essay writing happened today, hopefully that will carry on through tomorrow/Tuesday/Wednesday/etc all the way until next Thursday, when I hand in my thesis and thus complete all the writing (minus exams) of my undergraduate career. What a crazy thing.

Okay, one last thing before this gets ugly: A link brough to us by the nooner himself. bronwyn and adam, first kid you guys have I'm getting him these!