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Archive for March, 2010

I am writing this now as I have just returned from a five-day visit to my hometown to visit my parents and my dog. This trip was extra great because Matt was able to join me for a couple days of it and was able to hang out with my family for a bit. He left a day ahead of me though and so last night, having little to do except watch a movie I decided to take in another viewing of Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.

I won’t get into any talk on fantasy role-playing or nerds or doing a Masters degree in Tolkeinology but I will say that the film made me think a bit and not for the reasons you might think. It was actually one line from the film (and I think it was in the book as well though I’m not positive) where Gandalf is riding away from Rohan on his horse and says to the animal, “Run Shadowfax, show us the meaning of haste!”

Amazing.

I have always been a sucker for good one-liners and phrases that are not so much spoken as they are experienced. Anyone that has a good grasp of English or indeed any language (though English is the only one I understand with any real confidence) is certainly a blessed individual. It’s a fact that if someone has the sagacity to assemble a sentence that is both eloquent and delivered with expert timing then he or she makes it to the top of my, “I Want To Be Friends With This Person” list. Luckily for me, nearly all my friends possess this ability.

I won’t lie, I think that I do okay in the words department. At my current job I must confess that I get a thrill out of using words like ‘sequester’ or ‘misanthropy’ especially when I’m using them to refer to my relationship with a particular customer or what I might do to them (sequester them in a cramped closet until the store’s close perhaps). These are usually met with blank stares and a quick change of subject. I love that part.

But because I have a real problem with instant Karma, it’s not long that I’m able to sit and stroke my own ego. I merely have to pick up one of the novels that I’m reading and right there on any given page is a phrase or sentence that I could never even hope to realize on my own. Right now I’m reading Glen Duncan’s Death of an Ordinary Man, which, even though I’m not far into it, is already nothing short of amazing. Page six for example: “Nearby a bulbous conifer tilted like a giant microphone awaiting a quote from the sky.” Uhm, thank-you. I think I might have actually applauded that one while sitting at the airport.

Lately I’ve been sending queries off to different literary agents asking them to read my novel which itself has done nothing over the past year except take up space on my computer. When I write and send each query I am convinced that not only is my book groundbreakingly original, it’s also touching and relevant. I like to think that the New York Times would declare it “essential.” But then I read a little phrase in a book like Duncan’s and I come back to earth. Some people literally command language.

I addition to the writing and the sending of the novel queries to the randoms in New York I have also started interning at a publishing house in Vancouver. I use the term intern only because that’s how they kindly refer to me at Arsenal Pulp Press. I think bumbling volunteer might be more accurate but I do genuinely love how ‘intern’ sounds—it resonates with WASPy New England ivy-league nepotism for some reason. Anyway, everyone at the publishing house is extremely well read and moreover, well spoken. I went to one of the marketing meetings the other day and within a few minutes I was somewhat lost. There where so many impressive words and expertly designed sentences flying around that I felt as though I were a fresh visitor in a foreign land. Some people are able to just rattle off the most impressive words on a whim. These individuals have that ability and because of that I feel that my brain may have expanded ten-fold that afternoon via osmosis alone. It’s a steep learning curve definitely, but a welcome one.

The funny thing about a really great sentence or phrase or quote is that it is the property of its creator and its creator alone. Though someone might try and pass a truly grand blurb off as his or her own it never works—some of the original steam is lost for some reason. I’ve tried on occasion to heist a phrase or statement from a book or film or political figure but it never pans out. The words don’t really fit in my mouth and they end up feeling like a pair of tight jeans put on backwards. Itchy vocabulary? No thank you. I’ve given up mimicking in favor of the invention of my own truly great expression though it seems to be taking longer than I’d like; I want an axiom that’ll put the world off its axis. Ultimately it’s worth the wait because a great nugget of a quote to call your own or a placement of a word that is yours and yours only is really all you need in life …that and a dictionary of course.

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Terribly Moving

Hello again loyal reader. I have to confess that I’ve been a very bad blogger and have been terribly neglectful of you and reneged on my commitment to somewhat regularly update Degrees Of… I apologize. I’ve had a heap of things buzzing around in my head lately and I suppose I’ve been trying to streamline them, if only slightly, so I can write them up in a post. So here we go once again.

Things here are changing and they’re changing quite significantly. A couple of my friends are moving away from good ol’ Vancouver and other friends at work are switching locations or finding a new job all together. All this change is a little bittersweet because on the one hand I’m happy for my friends to be able to move on or move back or switch it up and on the other, I want things to stay exactly as they are until I give the go-ahead for an overhaul. It’s all about me after all. See the tiara crown?

I found out through a friend of mine whom I haven’t seen in a long while that another friend is leaving Vancouver for Toronto. At first I thought, ‘She can’t leave because I’ll never see her! What the heck is she thinking?’ Ultimately though, I don’t see her now—I don’t even run into her, but just knowing that I potentially could is a comforting thought. But now there’s not even the possibility—not unless I go to Toronto and I find that a little sad.

Andrea is also leaving back to Alberta (sorry for spilling the beans to anyone who didn’t already know) and I’m finding it particularly difficult to mentally prepare for the separation. I think it’s actually a great move for her: her family lives in Alberta, her fiancé is there, she’ll be able to abandon retail work and Edmonton is not obscenely expensive like Van City so I understand her reasoning, but it once again comes back to the fact that unless I initiate the change, I probably won’t like it.

When I was 18 and moving away to university I had to say the big farewell to my good friends (Hey Kalie! Hey Rylan!) and family and home etc. The leaving then was more exciting than anything else because I felt that I was moving on to do something new and interesting. My friends were leaving to universities of their own so I could be genuinely excited for them too. I wasn’t being left behind—we were just going in different directions.

Anyway, Kalie has since moved to Vancouver, which is amazing, and I’ve been able to see Rylan as he’s been doing a cross-continent research tour for his Masters that seems to bring him through the city on occasion. This is all very good and was working into my master plan of having everyone I like move to Vancouver and everyone I don’t move out of it. So far only a few people have listened to me and despite my best efforts, some of the good people are leaving. They clearly didn’t read my memo.

This is the thing with being in your mid twenties: you and your friends are perpetually in transition. When you’re of the age where you’re not attached to kids or a mortgage (though some of my peers have both already) you tend to bounce around a bit more. A move to a new city for the unattached quarter-lifer isn’t exactly enjoyable but it’s not an egregious strain either. In under a day you could potentially have all your hand-me-down furniture and old college texts ready to head off to a new location—it’s one of the up sides to living a Spartan existence.

Maybe I’m just a bit of an old soul, but since moving to this [somewhat ridiculous] city, I haven’t felt particularly bouncy. Vancouver, though faulted, has too many charms that keep me tied to it and no matter where I go, I’m always happy to return home here. The cranky, pseudo-bohemian yogis, software development hipsters and yuppie parents all comprise the character of the city that I find so endearing, even if it is strangely incongruous with how I picture myself.

Evidently, I consider myself to now be inextricably joined to Vancouver. Perhaps it won’t be for forever and perhaps one day friends will inform other friends that I’m now the one moving away—but for the time being, as the rubik’s cube of the quarter life does another one of it’s switch arounds, I’m happy to stick around. After all, people always need someone they recognize when they visit a place they used to live and my friends, no matter where they go, know they have a home here for as long as I am.

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