Alex's Alliterative Adventures

I can’t imagine how people lived before the internet. I mean, where else would you get to witness the great bee genocide of 2006?

I didn’t know they made 26 pound turkeys.

Recently, I’ve been thinking about the future. A lot. The prospect of “the rest of my life” is so daunting it’s frightening to even imagine it. One of the only things I know at this point is that I want to spend my life surrounded by amazing people. People who question, dare, and inspire. People who constantly make me reevaluate myself, who better me whenever I’m around them. I’m blindsided every time I meet these people, and I can’t stand the thought of allowing myself to stagnate by not filling my life with these people at every chance I get.

The right thing seemed too hard, but virtue was its own reward. And now it’s dinner time. I feel like tacos.

I’ve used every precious second the past week has offered up to me, and it still wasn’t enough time. There’s a good chance that my blogging will be fairly sparse until I start work on the 2nd. Happy holidays, everyone.

In the mean time, here’s what goes on in my head during a plane ride:

17:25 CEST
Never before have I had to say such difficult goodbyes. I can’t stop wishing that the people I left behind will be there when I land. One of the most important people I have ever met gave me a parting gift that almost moved me to tears – a pen and a book. I’m supposed to use the book to write my life’s to-do list and fill the pages with pictures, memories, and whatever else inspires me. I can’t bear to touch ink to paper yet; I need to be so sure of my words that it would be impossible for me to taint the sheets with anything less than the perfection they deserve. Thanks, puzzle piece, I’ll miss you whenever a sunset’s dying colours dance across my face.

17:49 CEST
The clouds below the plane stretch out as far as the eye can see. We rocket over an invisible earth, chasing a sunset that’s always just a bit further away. I feel like I’m coasting above something so fragile that it’s ethereal, yet something so massive and significant that all the hands in the world couldn’t begin to alter its steady gait.

19:11 CEST
new observations:
-the sun has set
-I left something precious to me in a city I’ve never visited
-arrested development is funnier than I remember (the WMDs were actually balls)
-I will now see every dollar I spend as a dollar I could’ve used to save up 550€
-I never did see snakes on a plane

21:22 CEST
Even though the sun set hours ago, we’re still feebly chasing the last orange streaks. It’s pretty poetic for an Airbus A340.

21:30 CEST
This week, on Fresh Philosophy From PhAl – er, me: On Optimism

I think it’s fair to say that I’m a generally happy guy. All it takes to make my day is a good chat with a friend, a plateful of cookies, or a pleasantly resonant nickel. I’ve spent many an hour explaining to people how easy it is to make yourself happy – just focus on the small things, don’t sweat the petty things, and don’t pet the sweaty things. A healthy appreciation of shiny things never hurts either. I also have a habit of preaching the wonders of optimism, which I consider to be the only useful outlook on life.

That being said, sometimes the only reaction a situation warrants is a bit of melancholy. To smile through is to dismiss, to forget is to insult. It’s not a matter of depression or needing to be cheered up; right now I just have some petting to do.

21:54 CEST
Keanu Reaves + romantic comedy (romcom for you brits) = potential for comedy plutonium

23:44 CEST
Using the city lights outside my window as my only guide, I think I’m now on the senseless leg of the journey – the bit where I’m west of everything important and still going.
I’d forgotten how limited your options are on a plane. When sleep won’t come (which is often) and you’ve watched all the movies you’d never otherwise watch but you’ve found a way to tolerate (which is inevitable), there’s little left to hold your thoughts at bay. I think of the past, of the future, of my dwindling bank account, of my ravenous ambitions, and of how goddammit Nina, you still owe me a cheesecake recipe.

00:00 CEST
The cityscapes at night look like a child’s artwork made of glue, glitter, and stars.

00:15 CEST
I’ve changed my mind; the lights look more like a neon growths on a patchwork quilt. Or I guess kind of like a bunch of buildings with lights on them.

20:14 CST
Oh god, I forgot how fat Americans are.

In other news, it’s currently -1°C in Toronto. Now THAT’S weather.

21:16 CST
It’s amazing how much easier it is to get on a plane when boarding it doesn’t mean tearing yourself from friends you won’t see again for far too long.

23:53 EST
Home. There are two things on my mind: Tim Horton’s, and an asshole.

Bags have been packed, trees have been climbed, goodbyes have been said, doors have been climbed, rooms have been cleaned, fire escapes have been climbed, and I generally climbed a lot of stuff.

I’ll see you all soon, but no one as soon as I’d like.

Hours spent studying: 5
Hours spent in line for the club: 1.5
Hours spent dancing, drinking, and stripping: 2
Hours spent sleeping: 3
Hours spent writing exam: 2.5
Hours spent grabbing life by the nuts and twisting: 11/14, since sleeping greatly reduces my capacity to twist nuts

I’ll leave for home soon enough when I leave my home behind.

This morning marked the departure of two more friends from Sankt Lars. The floor dinner is tonight, Friday I’ll be studying for my exam on Saturday, Saturday night will be spent poisoning my liver, Sunday morning will be full of goodbyes, manly coughs and getting unusually large amounts of dust in my eyes, Norway takes up Sunday – Tuesday, and I return home on Tuesday after a brief stint in Copenhagen. It will be great to see everyone from back home again, but I’m really going to miss everyone here. There’s a common tie that binds everyone here together in a way I haven’t really felt before, we’ve become more than just neighbours; we’re a community. Sunday is going to be a very, very long day.

“The ‘Dear Diary: jackpot’ incident.”

“I didn’t hear about this incident.”

“You NAMED it, when you wrote a hilarious journal about it, while laughing.”

“I can’t remember 30 seconds ago. Refresh my memory.”

“The girl got all pissy, the guy said some nasty yet hilariously true things, she went crazy, never wanted to see any of us again, you got off scot free, and I was the bad guy?”

“I vaguely remember this. This wasn’t the night that the guy got action for some definition of the word action, right?”

“No. Can you really not remember this?”

“I vaguely do.”

“We never saw her again after it.”

“Not ringing any bells”

“You had the subway club with extra bacon, I had the extra abcon with a subway club?”

“RIGHT.”

is the fear of large words. Well, sesquippedalophobia is the fear of large words, but hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia is just the sequel, with added hilarity.

A friend and I have had a good laugh discovering a few questionable phobias:
Papaphobia – Fear of the Pope
Papyrophobia – Fear of paper
Parthenophobia – Fear of virgins or young girls
Xanthophobia – Fear of the color yellow or the word yellow
Urophobia – Fear of urine or urinating
Thaasophobia – Fear of sitting
Syphilophobia – Fear of syphilis
Sophophobia – Fear of learning
Russophobia – Fear of Russians
Peladophobia- Fear of bald people
Levophobia- Fear of things to the left side of the body
Anglophobia- Fear of England or English culture, etc

I could go on like this, but I’ll just direct you to the questionable source.

London stuff will come eventually, but there’s just too much to write down all at once.