the daily snivel
The guilt-based economy
Well, in response to my wretched pestering, dear sweet Celeste did indeed feel guilty enough to update her blog after a year. I read her post, and then I felt kind of bad. The funny thing about making people do your bidding is that it leaves a hollow feeling. When you realize that people only do things because they feel they must, you end up being the one feeling guilty. Lousy double-edged sword. I know that this self-critical and soul-searching post was only written because I made Celeste kind of feel awkward, and not because she really felt like writing about herself and how she's doing. So, I rightly feel like a bit of a heel and will say so the next time I see her.
I guess for me, I love the instant gratification that comes with being able to read a friend's journal and see how they're doing each day, especially when we don't have the ability to regularly spend time together because of obligations or distance. My good friends Celeste, Natalie, Tara, Angela, and Jennifer all have journals, and it's a treat to read their thoughts and even see myself mentioned from time to time. It's a great way to check in and know that all is well in the universe. Or, if all is not well, then I can try to intervene. And since I'm so rarely in one place for very long, the internet is a much easier way to keep tabs on people than the telelphone. I refuse to get a cell phone until the firm I'm articling with next year forces one into my hands (and they've promised they will) so I'm a hard guy to get ahold of. I even enjoy reading my weird and long-since-erstwhile ex-girlfriend Adrianne's blog, and not because we have any connection after ten years, or even speak, but because she is one hilarious seething cauldron of rage and fart jokes, and I'm happy to see she's doing well. I'm also incidentally happy that:
But back to Celeste. She's an important person to me, and though she lives just three blocks away, we don't get to see one another as often as we might like. Sometimes we'll make plans that just fall through, and sometimes we'll just play phone message tag, and sometimes we live in different provinces (and next year we'll be back to living in different cities), but we've known each other through the past ten years, since I was she was just a sassy fourteen-year-old girl with green hair who borrowed my Porno for Pyros tape one fine summer afternoon at the Lois 'n' Frima's Ice Cream Stand in the Byward Market. Since then, we've always found each other again, sometimes by chance and sometimes when Celeste will just call out of the blue. I've had a serious crush on that girl more than once in my life, and she confessed the same thing about me. I think our timing was always just off. I've since gone on record as saying we'd probably make a destructive couple, though sometimes I wonder. In any case, it's a special friendship. Celeste is very sweet and helpful, despite her self-professed neuroses. She's shoveled my front steps when she was supposed to be a guest, she's helped me clean my kitchen, she's taken the initiative to clean the windows in my bedroom, and we did a wonderful purge of my excess clutter this summer. And talk about lovely. She even out-pretties the luscious and eminently touchable designs of her iBook and iPod (both of which are nicer than mine...). Mainly, though, she's just fun to talk to and spend time with. We can carry on a great political or pop culture conversation for hours but, as I said, we don't frequently get the chance to do so. So when I was leaving guilt-inducing posts to update her blog, it's just I like reading her witty thoughts and checking out her amazing graphic design. She's gone through so many brilliant websites that looked smashing, and is always whipping up clever images. That's why I came on strong with the guilt. It was meant as encouragement, but it turned out all wrong. For shame, Rob.
In other news, I'm finally finished my exams and essays and am soooo much closer to graduating. Come April I will be finished law school forever, and I cannot wait. I'm practically drooling with anticipation at the thought of articling in Toronto and getting away from essays and homework and crushing student poverty. I promise though: I'll keep the cocaine, shady deals, mattresses stuffed with money and sexy affairs with desperate clients to an absolute minimum.
On a related note, my dear and brainy bestest friend Natalie scored in the 87th percentile on the LSAT (Law School Admissions Test). This means she's a shoo-in for all of the schools she's applied to, especially the University of Ottawa, which I'm highly recommending. I'm super proud of her, and knew all along that she could do it. Her persnickety ways will take her far in the rules-based world of civil procedure.
Oh, and it's my birthday. Happy 29th to me!
Comments:I guess for me, I love the instant gratification that comes with being able to read a friend's journal and see how they're doing each day, especially when we don't have the ability to regularly spend time together because of obligations or distance. My good friends Celeste, Natalie, Tara, Angela, and Jennifer all have journals, and it's a treat to read their thoughts and even see myself mentioned from time to time. It's a great way to check in and know that all is well in the universe. Or, if all is not well, then I can try to intervene. And since I'm so rarely in one place for very long, the internet is a much easier way to keep tabs on people than the telelphone. I refuse to get a cell phone until the firm I'm articling with next year forces one into my hands (and they've promised they will) so I'm a hard guy to get ahold of. I even enjoy reading my weird and long-since-erstwhile ex-girlfriend Adrianne's blog, and not because we have any connection after ten years, or even speak, but because she is one hilarious seething cauldron of rage and fart jokes, and I'm happy to see she's doing well. I'm also incidentally happy that:
- I'm in no way messed up by our brief and messed up relationship;
- She's not looking back to me in regret or anger either;
- I'm not dating her, what with her rage and her copious and joyful farting; and
- She's found someone who loves her anyway
But back to Celeste. She's an important person to me, and though she lives just three blocks away, we don't get to see one another as often as we might like. Sometimes we'll make plans that just fall through, and sometimes we'll just play phone message tag, and sometimes we live in different provinces (and next year we'll be back to living in different cities), but we've known each other through the past ten years, since I was she was just a sassy fourteen-year-old girl with green hair who borrowed my Porno for Pyros tape one fine summer afternoon at the Lois 'n' Frima's Ice Cream Stand in the Byward Market. Since then, we've always found each other again, sometimes by chance and sometimes when Celeste will just call out of the blue. I've had a serious crush on that girl more than once in my life, and she confessed the same thing about me. I think our timing was always just off. I've since gone on record as saying we'd probably make a destructive couple, though sometimes I wonder. In any case, it's a special friendship. Celeste is very sweet and helpful, despite her self-professed neuroses. She's shoveled my front steps when she was supposed to be a guest, she's helped me clean my kitchen, she's taken the initiative to clean the windows in my bedroom, and we did a wonderful purge of my excess clutter this summer. And talk about lovely. She even out-pretties the luscious and eminently touchable designs of her iBook and iPod (both of which are nicer than mine...). Mainly, though, she's just fun to talk to and spend time with. We can carry on a great political or pop culture conversation for hours but, as I said, we don't frequently get the chance to do so. So when I was leaving guilt-inducing posts to update her blog, it's just I like reading her witty thoughts and checking out her amazing graphic design. She's gone through so many brilliant websites that looked smashing, and is always whipping up clever images. That's why I came on strong with the guilt. It was meant as encouragement, but it turned out all wrong. For shame, Rob.
In other news, I'm finally finished my exams and essays and am soooo much closer to graduating. Come April I will be finished law school forever, and I cannot wait. I'm practically drooling with anticipation at the thought of articling in Toronto and getting away from essays and homework and crushing student poverty. I promise though: I'll keep the cocaine, shady deals, mattresses stuffed with money and sexy affairs with desperate clients to an absolute minimum.
On a related note, my dear and brainy bestest friend Natalie scored in the 87th percentile on the LSAT (Law School Admissions Test). This means she's a shoo-in for all of the schools she's applied to, especially the University of Ottawa, which I'm highly recommending. I'm super proud of her, and knew all along that she could do it. Her persnickety ways will take her far in the rules-based world of civil procedure.
Oh, and it's my birthday. Happy 29th to me!
