Have you ever been alone in a crowded room when I'm here with you?

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room; well I'm here with you...

Thank god for amazon.ca and their "no shipping fees on orders over $25" policy. I don't know how I would have managed Christmas shopping these past 2 years without it.

Always wondered what a first-class seat on an airline looked like...

The seat shifts forward and reclines into a bed when you're tired.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking…”

Lilly leaned forward and tried to see out the window as the plane began its descent. Flying into a city at night was one of the best things about being on a plane and it was the only time, during the entire flight, where she wished she had a window seat.

Not that I have any right to complain, she thought. After all, she had specifically requested an aisle seat; it made going to the bathroom less awkward. She hated having to climb over people and the aisle seat also meant that she could store most of her belongings in the overhead compartment rather than stuffing them into a purse...

But it did mean that she wasn’t able to look out the window during landing. Resigning herself to this fact, she leaned back and closed her eyes as the plane continued its descent and eventually touched down on the tarmac.

Hong Kong International Airport was quiet. Lilly noted that all the stores and vendors were closed as she made her way to the plush seats that beckoned to weary travelers. Most businesses in airports kept extended hours to accommodate the myriad of flight schedules but at 3 a.m. Lilly understood that nothing would be open until at least 6 in the morning. Her flight had been the only one that got in past 1 a.m. and Lilly marveled at the fact that even across time-zones, airlines and airports alike managed to schedule departures and arrivals within accepted hours of operation.

And yet, it’s not like I feel obligated to be sleeping, Lilly considered, stretching her legs out and making sure her carry-ons weren’t sprawled out around her. She supposed that that was the most appealing part about being in an airport at night. If I were at home, I suppose I could still be up at this hour but people look at you askance if they knew that you’re up super late – and even if they didn’t, you felt like you were being a social pariah. Lilly hated that about staying up late. On the one hand, it was the only time where she felt like she could think or write in peace. On the other hand, she felt like she ought to be sleeping and thus couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty about staying up late. Not only that, but she could never bring herself to get out of bed at a decent hour the next morning and eating breakfast at 1 in the afternoon felt embarrassing as well.

Not so at an airport. Sure, the city might be asleep, but nobody would think you were an insomniac or a weirdo if they walked by and saw you sitting on a couch in the airport, peering at a laptop screen. Lilly grinned to herself. Of course I’m awake and on my computer; I’m travelling internationally. Where I’m from, it’s 3 in the afternoon. She pushed her hair behind her ears and looked around as she waited for her computer to load. It was funny how alive she felt despite her fatigue and the tranquility of an empty airport. Is this what it feels like to be awake at 3 in the morning, guilt-free?

Lilly only stayed on her computer long enough to check her email and fire off a few quips on facebook. Airport internet was slow if it was free and Lilly could never help getting slightly stressed when the internet was slow to the point where watching uninterrupted YouTube videos boiled down to a race between the red and gray lines that ran under the window. Besides, she liked being able to think her thoughts and sit around idly without feeling any obligation to do something. In that moment, Lilly realized something.

That’s what it all boils down to: not feeling the obligation to be doing any particular “thing”. It was the reason why she loved being in an airport at night. In those hours between her arrival at HKIA and her next flight, she had the freedom to do nothing. And while she knew that the obligations she felt at home were arbitrary and weren’t backed by anything beyond what she believed society expected from her, Lilly felt them all the same. She couldn’t help it. But here, in the dead of night in a foreign country, she didn’t feel those compulsions. It was like her world had been put on hold.

As the hours passed, Lilly began to get hungry. By 5:30 a.m., she was standing outside a noodle shop, waiting for them to begin their hours of operation; 6 a.m. if the signs were accurate. From where she was standing, Lilly could see the prices and the mark-up made her chuckle.

90 Hong Kong dollars for a bowl of noodle soup? she thought. That translates to like, $12 Canadian. Still, she was starving and it wasn’t as if she was planning on spending her Hong Kong dollars at a later date. Half an hour later, she sat at a table and noted that the sun was starting to rise. With it, passengers began to trickle into the airport with the first Arrivals of the day.

“I guess I should start making my way to the gate in a bit,” said Lilly to no one in particular. And by god, this is the best damn noodle soup I’ve ever had in my life.

One would think that Microsoft Word 2010 would recognize "facebook" as a legitimate word but nope.

The Feasibility of Long-Distance Relationships

I've always been told (accused?) that I am a very practical-minded person. My colleagues have actually begun to notice how often I begin my comments with, "Well why don't you just..." followed by some form of straightforward advice. It's funny that people mention this because while it may be true that I tend to be practical about certain matters, I also buy into the "paralyzing gray" (citation: Christian) and the extent to which many things, particularly as they relate to interpersonal relations, can be examined under this light. I don't know how I've managed to reconcile the two but there you have it.

The point is, my eminently practical self used to think of long-distance relationships in a somewhat naive fashion (back in high school and maybe even during the early stages of university). My basic line of thought was, "it's better to be in one than not have a relationship at all." To an extent, I still somewhat believe this - certainly, my life in Fort McMurray has been made "easier" (as in, I'm having an easier time coping with the fact that I'm living here, not easier in a simplistic sense) by my not-quite-but-kinda-sorta-pseudo-relationship. However, I've begun to realize the nature of the beast that is The Long Distance Relationship and why I ultimately don't believe that they can work out. This is not to say that I don't "believe" in the idea per se; rather, I think it was one of things that "could work in theory but isn't practical 99% of the time."

You see, I've always believed in the maxim that one needs to be with their significant other in order for a relationship to work. That is, you must see them in person, at least once or twice a month, regardless of how often you call/skype/text/book face. Obviously, there are some exceptions to this; I am not suggesting that you're doomed to failure just because one of you takes a month-long vacation. However, setting aside vacations/random events/other miscellany, I think you need to see your significant other at least once or twice a month during the regular course of your life.

Here is why: as long as you are physically separate, it is almost impossible for your significant other to be a "part" of your life. When you're living apart, you don't create shared experiences; you experience things separately and then share them. They are only a part of your life insofar as they are the person who helps you reflect on the past and plan for the future. It is really, really hard to commit to doing this consistently without being around to share those experiences. I mean, creating a pool of common experiences is part of what makes relationships so amazing. Another part is the physical intimacy but guess what, you don't get that either when you're 4000 km (or however far) apart.

This, I think, is the crux behind statements like, "I don't really think about him/her as much these days. I mean, if we end up living in the same city, we'll probably give it shot, but I don't feel this burning desire to be with him/her all the time." Despite the fact that such a statement sounds like you're falling out of love, I really don't think this is true - I think you still like that person every bit as much as you did when you were together and you would realize this if/when you ever do end up in the same geographical area - it's just that you simply aren't around each other. Human beings are terrible at remembering things - we all need to be reminded of why we love our significant other on a regular basis. Human beings are also adaptable and when you adapt to a life without your significant other, you don't think of them as often because they simply aren't a regular presence in your life.

Relationships are serious things. If you're going to have one, it's really not something you want to subject to the whimsical uncertainties that come with attempting them in different geographic locations. If you ever did, once, love that person, find your way back to them. Life is too short and too hard to pass up the chance that you might not have to face it alone.

I would like to extend my middle finger in the general direction of the frat boys who ruined Wonderwall for the rest of us. You know, I genuinely liked that song, once upon a time.

Question I wish I had friends to discuss with. The whole eating dinner in Leonard Cafeteria thing truly is the thing I miss the most about that whole experience.

We all know that compliments on appearances can be gendered. I wouldn't go so far as to say that it's inappropriate to say that a girl is "handsome," or that a guy is "pretty" but they're definitely more common when used to describe the other gender. Not only that, but even terms that can be used for both genders - cute, gorgeous, sexy - refer to different attributes depending on whether you're using it to describe a guy or a girl. Now, I could write a whole post on those terms as they relate to gender but that's not the question at hand.

What I want to know is whether or not there is a similar genderfication (<-- not a word) when it comes to compliments that are not related to appearance.

On a student's short story:

"The baby is sleeping," she replied promptly in a sort of matter of factly way.

Really now? Wordy much?

I love Friends. Back when they were filming the first season and didn't know how many seasons there were going to be, the title of the arc that stretched across two episodes was simply labelled, "The One With Two Parts".

I think my chosen method of shaving is indicative of my current lifestyle. I have understood this on an innate level for a few years now but I only thought of it as a "thing" recently. Apparently, my chosen method of shaving is not random.

As most of you know, there are two primary shaving methods: blades vs. electric razors. For some reason, I own both. The main difference between the two is that shaving with an electric razor tends to be a much faster process than using a blade. On the other hand, you usually gets a much cleaner shave with a blade since it goes right up against your skin while an electric razor naturally has a barrier that prevents you from lacerating your face apart with what amounts to a miniature lawnmower.

Razor blades also cost a hell of a lot more money but leaving money aside for a minute...

I've realized that in Fort McMurray and during other times of turmoil, I shave with an electric razor. It seems reflective of my life that my chosen method of shaving is a hurried process (seriously... you just turn the electric razor on and mash it against your face) that does a somewhat incomplete job because I don't care enough about my appearance to mind stubble, nor do I ever reach a state of peace where I feel inclined to sit and stroke my chin as I ponder life, love and eternity.

On the other hand, when I'm at home during the holidays/summer, I always shave with a blade. The process takes more time, but it is time that I have; I'm not rushing off to work and frankly, it's not unlike the difference between taking a shower and taking a bath. Besides, it feels nicer and I hate stroking my chin during a good ponder if I'm not clean shaven; stubble tends to be irritating to the fingertips.

During my 5th year at Queen's, I remember this being a notable difference between being at university and working at a school in Markham. Again, same idea - prac was stressful and adult-like while being at Queen's meant being a student and being afforded the luxury of moseying down to the cafeteria on your own time.

This is all counts as fascinating stuff in my life lately. It is Fort McMurray after all. I miss my razor blade shaving days...

I finally thought of a reasonable comparison for the whole dancing thing.

I ranted, a few years ago, about how I hate it when people assume that people who don't dance are actually dying to do so but are just self-conscious. In the last few years, I've brought up the point a few times with a few different social groups and I've still been having problems convincing people of this fact. The resistance seems predicated on the assumption that just letting go and dancing is something that everyone can do (as in, the physical ability is always present) and all you need to do is suck it up and do it a few times to enjoy it.

Well, I happen to feel the exact same way about singing. And yet, it's somehow completely reasonable for people to declare that they don't like singing? See, I understand that. I understand the fact that even though there are plenty of environments in which the opportunity to sing is not predicated upon being good at singing, this is something that some people would simply rather not do. Why is dancing any different?