Josh's show will be watched tommorow...

The Young Guns will be fully reunited this weekend...

My hair will be neatly shorn tommorow...

And I'm almost done school....

But I still hate Mondays!

First let me start out by saying that Julian is one of the best young writers of our time. Jules, your blog entry shall be printed and scrapbooked all around the world. I'm serious right now, you managed to say what I think a lot of us either know or are beginning to know, but are not articulate enough to put into words. And furthermore, I shall try to make my entries more improv based.

But not this one... Today you get an anecdote/rant.

As some of you may know either from me telling you, or from my previous post, I was recently in the Caribbean, and if your didn't gather from this entries title, I am home now. It was a reading week trip with my family, and I enjoyed myself, right up to the bitter end. And since the beginning and middle were so warm, and beautiful, and delicious, intoxicating, therefore really not worth talking about, I shall skip to that ever so not warm/beautiful/delicious/intoxicating end.

One thing you will need to know is that on Saint Martin (or for the Dutch reading this: Sint Maartin), which I think is common all over the Caribbean, is the very laid back way of life. Don't get me wrong, you've got your poor and disheartened, but even they were (almost stereotypically) relaxed and unaffected. Alright, that being said, the airport is no exception. We arrive two hours early for our flight (the recommended for international travel) to find that for our 300 passenger flight there are two (2!) people working behind the make-shift Air Canada check-in station (make-shift because Air Canada only flies there once a week, therefore it is not worthy of a permanent work station). So naturally there is about 250 people in front of us and in a matter of about 15 minutes the other 50 or so people for our flight were behind us, and we were not moving. Not even a little. Well, that is an exaggeration. We were moving, but I calculated it. Because I'm a science nerd. And that is what we do. There were two people behind the desk, the lady on the right managed to serve one (1!) person in roughly 4 minutes, the lady on the left managed to serve one person in roughly 3 minutes. Which translated into us (my family and I/the entire line of people on that flight) moving roughly 1 metre every 5 minutes. Now to give you an idea of how long our line was, I also guesstimated that there were probably about 150 people in front of us, so to get us all through it would take about 525 minutes, or about 8 1/2 hours. Eventually, as we were shuffling along down the line at our incredibly slow speed a security officer, trying to do some crowd control starting asking people in our giant line if we were in fact all on the same flight, to which most of us said with annoyance and worry (for not making our flight) that yes, yes we were all waiting. So what does the security guard do? She goes to the manager and tells her to put one (1!) more person on. The reason I am so surprised by the addition of only ONE person is because by doing a simple look around the departures area, and the other desks, for Air France or US Airways or Air Carib or almost any of the other desks, you would find probably about 10 check-in people, doing nothing. No one in there lines, no paper work to do, honest to god, sitting, doing nothing, watching our line move at a snails pace. Now, I don't understand the airport system, maybe they weren't allowed to help, I don't know, but it seams like if the manager could in fact add one more person to the Air Canada desk, why couldn't she add 9 more and just get our line cleared? Like I said before, I don't know, but she didn't. Man, this is a long paragraph. I need a break.

So our flight was scheduled to leave at 5:30 pm. Boarding was set for 5:00 pm. We were at the airport at 3:20 pm. By 4:55 we (finally!) reached the front counter to have our luggage tagged and our boarding passes assigned, and we realize that the a major source of our slowness is the fact that because Air Canada isn't a frequent enough flyer to have it's own desk, it doesn't get computers either. No computers, no printers. Now, I realize that everyone that could be reading this has already embraced technology and you probably realize the joy that it brings. Would you like to have a taste of the despair and misery the lack of technology brings? Think back to the last time you flew, and try to envision what your boarding pass looked like, it was no doubt printed on a computer, but hopefully you remember that the slip of paper that is a boarding pass is roughly the size of a Canadian bill, like a $20, for instance, and it is almost completely filled with numbers and letters. Endless strings of gibberish code that makes sense to someone, but to me just look like someone was practicing writing pi. And the luggage tags aren't much better. So now I understand why our line was moving as slowly as it was. And I have some sympathy for the three women behind the desk. But sympathy was replaced with annoyance and disbelief when I heard the work "tax" escape her lips. Ah... the dreaded Airport tax, we're all heard of these, the sneak up on you when you are least expecting them. Fortunately, when we booked we made sure that we paid all of our taxes in advance, we asked our travel agent, "So we won't have to pay any more taxes right? Not for going there or coming back?" "Nope, you're all set." Came the reply. Alright, well we will just let the lady behind the desk know this, and we should be okay. So we did. "What's that? There is no indication anywhere in our boarding information that we have already paid? But we promise, we already did... Maybe you could just check your comput- Oh right... you have NO WAY OF KNOWING! Alright... how much is it? $30 US? Oh... alright that isn't so bad." We are a family of 4 after all. "Each?!?" Alright, well I suppose that is why we invented credit cards. "What's that? You don't take any credit card. Alright, how about debit? No huh." Should have seen that coming. "Cash only?" So now is the time when every member of our family starts looking through their stuff trying to scrounge up $120 US, and at the end of an expensive vacation that is hard to do, but we did. We give it to the lady and where does she put it? In her pocket. That's right, not only do they not have computers they don't have cash registers, or even a drawer. But wait a minute, I see a drawer right there, but then that must mean... No! She wouldn't do that. Why would someone trick a tourist into handing over their money? The answer. Because they can. Sure, we could have stayed and argued about how we did in fact pay all of our taxes in Canada, but when you are the tourist, or at least on the non-business side of the desk, you have no power. All she would have said was, "find the cash or you don't fly home." So, we did what I expect every other person in the line did, we swallowed our anger and bewilderment and dug deep into our pockets.

Alright, we are checked in and ready to go. Where did we go? Why, down the departures corridor of course. We're walking. Look! A duty free shop. Look! A Cigar shop! Look! Hey! Wait a minute... what is this? A LINE?!? We just got out of a line, how could there be another line?

Damn, another line. This one is were everyone person who is flying, not just Air Canada, but Air Transat, Two American Airlines and one Air France, have to line up to get their passport and customs tag checked (this isn't the official customs, that is in Canada, but this is St. Maartin's own little special customs thing, probably just another way to force us to feel like cattle). Anyway, despite the fact that for every single person that was flying at or around that time there were only three people working the front of this queue, because all they were doing was checking and stamping, we moved a bit faster. So, I hand the guy my passport, yes, the guy in the picture is me, no, I'm not taking any plants, fruits or animals off the island. Alright, I am through... And now? Another line! Yes ladies and gentlemen, I was now standing in line number three. "What was the ride at the end of this one?" I wondered. The answer was heard before it was seen, the familiar sound of a metal detector. This was the line for security. Hurray! And again, with only three stations open for every person that is flying, but these people having to do more than just check and stamp, they have to scan and search and protect, this line moved a lot slower than the last. But we make it to the front, and it is about 5 minutes after 5, so we have time. I empty all my pockets into one of those little boxes and place my carry-on on the conveyor belt. I hold my breath and step through the detector. Alright! No noises, the lady smiles and a wait for my belongings. Uh oh... the conveyor belt has stopped, and my bag hasn't come out... That must mean... Crap, they are looking at my bag. So I go through my belongings mentally... There is nothing in there that wasn't in there on the way, when I cleared security in Edmonton and Toronto, except some cigars and some rum liqueurs, but those can't be the problem... "Excuse me sir, is this your bag?" "Yes it is" "Could you bring it over here." So I do. "You have two lighters in your bag." "Yes I do" "You can't have lighters." I can't have lighters? I could have lighters in Edmonton and Toronto, why can't I have lighters here... "Oh, alright." "Could you take them out sir." So I go digging, and my bag is very full, and lighters are very small, which means they have fallen to the bottom corners of my bag, which means that I have to take out a lot of the stuff that I had taken so much care in packaging delicately and efficiently until about half my bag's miscellaneous things are all over the table, but I find them. Now these aren't Bics, or anything like that, this is my Zippo and my green-flame cigar lighter. These are nice lighters. And now the lady wants them because they are combustibles. But a lighter is only good if it has fuel! So I ask her "Could I just burn them until they have nothing left?" No fuel = no flame = no combustible. "No" came the reply. WTF? Why not? But before I could ask the lighters were in her hands and I was left to pack my things. I turn to go, but not before I see her POCKET MY LIGHTERS! ARGH! Twice now, twice something that belonged to me ended up in some airport worker's pocket. Man, if they didn't have a monopoly I would give my business to someone else. But I can't, so instead I think to the words of Tyler Durden and I find some tranquility, "the things you own, end up owning you."

Alright... I am calm. I have cleared security. I have found my fourth line. Alright, this is just ridiculous. It is 5:15, we were supposed to board our plane 15 minutes ago, why are the doors to our gate closed? Well, I don't know the answer, but someone does. It is intercom lady. "Attention all passengers flying Air Canada flight number 135 to Toronto, mmmmrrrph mmmmurmmmm brrrgrrr mmmurrmmmmmurph jrrrrr brrrmmphhhh hrrrrgurrrr, once again, that is all passengers flying Air Canada flight number 135 to Toronto, mmmmrrrph mmmmurmmmm brrrgrrr mmmurrmmmmmurph jrrrrr brrrmmphhhh hrrrrgurrrr. Wow. I didn't catch any of that. And this message played about 4 more times while we were all standing there, wondering what they hell was going on, and we all listen and none of us could hear what she was saying. So we stood. And we waited. And finally, when it was about 5:25 our gate opens and people start to move. Where are they moving to? The line for the bus. Hurray! Our fifth line, for those of you counting at home. This one for the bus to take us to the stairs to board our plane. I guess they don't want people randomly walking around on the tarmac. So we wait and we get on our bus and we get dropped off by our plane and we line up to get on (line #6). And we get on, and we get seated and it is 5:30. Alright, everyone sits down, and we should be off!

But we wait...

And we wait...

And finally the captain comes on. "Ladies and gentlemen this is your captain speaking, we are just waiting for the last of our luggage to get stowed away underneath, then once we get clearance we will depart." Oh, okay. It's good to have an update. So we continue to wait.

It is now 6:00 and we are still waiting. The captain comes on again. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have some good news and some bad news, the good news is we have found a jacket and a missing dog, the bad news is we are still waiting for clearance from (some 4 letter acronym), but we should be getting it soon. I'll keep you posted.

And we wait...

And it is 6:30. And those of us who have to make connecting flights, like those going to Vancouver, Edmonton, Winnipeg, Montreal and Halifax, start to get nervous as their connected time shrinks and shrinks. And you start to do the math. If we take off right now, we will have 20 minutes to clear customs and get to our connecting gate. 15 minutes. 10 minutes. What is going on?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have received clearance for take-off, but it seems we are a little heavy so the ground crew is going to remove some cargo and we should be off."

Hmm... I thought that was why we had our luggage weighed when we checked in, to ensure this problem wouldn't happen, but maybe we're transporting some bananas or a couple cases of rum or something. Alright, well they will remove that and we will be off.

So we continue to wait, and we continue to play the game. If we take off right now, and we get a good tail wind, run to the front of the plane to be the first ones off, run through customs without any problems, and run to our connecting gate we can just make it. It is 6:50 and we have all but mathematically eliminated ourselves from the race. If we get Chuck Norris to roundhouse kick us to the speed of light, we could still make it... Sigh... If you factor in a 5 hour flight we have missed our connection, and we are still on the ground. Finally we start to move.

It is 7:00 and we are on the runway, we are taking off and we are being talked to again. "Ladies and gentlemen this is the flight attendant captain speaking, we apologize for the late departure and we realize that there are some of you who have connecting flights, we have no information at this time about whether your flights will be held for you or not, but we will update you when we have received more information." Hmm... what a useless message.

Alright, so we're flying, pretty uneventful really... I should have said beef instead of chicken, Pride and Prejudice is pretty boring and Kiera Knightly has a freakishly long neck, from the side she looks like some giraffe-human, but other than that, nothing really happened.

When we are 30 minutes from landing the voice came on again. "Ladies and gentlemen, a bit of bad news, for those of you with connecting flights, we have missed every connection, and we have rebooked you for tomorrow morning. All those flying Vancouver flight blah blah blah you are now on flight blah blah blah. For Edmonton... for Winnipeg... for Montreal... for Halifax... There will be an Air Canada representative waiting for you once you've cleared customs should you have any questions regarding your new flights for accommodations for the night."

Alright, so we land, and you can tell just by looking at the faces those who are staying in Toronto because they live there from those who are staying because they have to. But we all shuffle our feet through customs, we told the lady we had missed our connection and I think she took pity on us as I believe we were taking in about 280 mL of alcohol tax-free too much. But we are off to the baggage claim.

We get there and we find our spot to grab our bags as it goes round and round, and they start to come out. I'm sure everyone has felt like this before, but I swear my bag is almost the last one out, so I wasn't surprised that after 20 minutes of waiting mine hadn't come out yet, but neither had my mom's, or my dad's, or my sister's, or the bags of about 50 other people. Strange... We wait for another 10 minutes and the carousel stops. And we remember... "The plane is a little heavy, so the ground crew is going to remove some cargo..." Surely, by cargo they didn't mean luggage... did they? Yes they did. All 4 my family's bags as well as the bags of 50 other passengers were given an extended vacation as they were still in St. Maartin. Lucky bags...

It was at this moment that I got to witness something pretty neat. The transformation of reasonable, rational individuals into the stupid, loud, obnoxious mob. I'd never really witnessed the "mob mentality" as I've heard it been called. But it happened, right in front of the baggage services desk. About 75 people all crowded around a two person desk yelling "Where the F*** are my bags?" "Why won't your just tell us where they are?" F this and S that, a couple of B's, the threats of inserting things into the A's and a lot of BS's. So the guy behind the counter, calls his manager who arrives with 4 police officers. Nothing like seeing 3 people with guns, and one if full riot gear, to make a mob form an orderly line to grab our missing luggage forms. So after waiting half an hour in our seventh line in about 7 hours, we fill out our form and leave the baggage area to find the representative we were told would be there for us to answer questions and set us up in a hotel for the night.

So we are looking... and waiting... and standing around and there is no one. Well, no one official anyway, there are a lot of passengers doing the same as us, but no Air Canada personnel, no security guards to ask, no one to tell us what to do or where to go. So, I find one of those info maps, and in Terminal one of the Pearson Airport in Toronto, one the ground floor, there are no information or service/help desks. So we start to wander, we find a couple of security guards, and they don't know where to send us. We find a couple more and they just keep walking when we try to ask them. Finally we find a security guard for a car rental place (that's how deserted the airport is at 1 am) and he actually knows where we should go.

So we find our Air Canada customer services desk where there are three people working, and about 8 people waiting. So we wait behind them, this would be line up number 8, I guess. One of the guys behind the desk sees the line slowly getting bigger as more and more people are finding where to go and decides to go home, his shift is over, the lady beside him says that she is off at 1 am too, but he tells her she has to stay, the lady doesn't like this and is pretty sour the rest of the time. Finally it is our turn to be helped, and of course, we get the tired, cranky lady. And boy does she work slow. But at least she is working. She hooks us up with 4 tickets for Sunday's 8 am out of Toronto for Edmonton, and a voucher for two rooms at the Quality Inn, she calls the Inn to verify the rooms, she gets confirmation and figures out that the airport shuttle would be arriving at station S5 in about 10 minutes.

So off we go, downstairs to where all the shuttles take people from the airport to the hotels.

Oh, I should mention that when we left St. Maartin it was about 27 degrees Celsius (nice shorts and t-shirt weather), and Toronto is about -10 (not nice shorts and t-shirt weather). Of course we had planned on having our luggage so we could change into Edmonton appropriate weather, or I guess your could say we hadn't planned on losing out luggage.

Okay, so station S5 is outside. So there we were, some in shoes, some in sandals, some in pants, most in shorts, all in t-shirts, all in minus 10 weather, all cold, all waiting. We wait the ten minutes that the lady said it would take, then we wait ten more, then the guy beside us tells us that when he phoned they said 45 minutes. Hmm... why would our lady lie to us? Who knows, but she did. Then the nice man who was waiting realized that we were all in our summer gear, and he, being in long pants, boots and a leather jacket, offers to stand outside and wait, while the rest of freezing our toes off could wait inside and he would holler when it arrived. Thank you nice man.

So we wait inside now... And we wait... and the 45 minutes has come and gone, and we have seen shuttles for about 8 different hotels come and go, some of them twice, and finally someone else who is waiting for the same shuttle as us decides to figure out what is going on, did the guy get into an accident, or what? So he calls... "It isn't coming?" we hear him say loudly on the payphone. "Well, why not? Really... Well what should I do? Fine. Bye." He hangs up the phone and announces: "The reason the shuttle isn't coming is because the Quality Inn is full, there are no rooms left, and they told Air Canada to stop handing out the vouchers." Awesome! It is about 2:15 am, our flight is at 8:10 am, which means boarding is at 7:40, we should be at the airport by 7:10, we are now down to 5 hours of sleep, and we don't have a hotel to sleep in.

So our mini mob is now pretty pissed off, and very tired and all we want is a place to lay our heads. So we go back to where the cranky lady had given us our now useless voucher and we find that it is empty. The lady had gone home and the other guy was no where to be found. And if we thought it was hard to find someone to help us at 1 am, we had no idea how hard it would be at 20 minutes passed 2. But, after going two levels up to the departures area, we finally find someone. Of course it just wouldn't be right if we didn't have to line up first. So after waiting a few more minutes of our precious potential sleep time in line number 9 we get to the front where after explaining our story, which by now takes quite some time, the guy working there gives us a new voucher (no apology whatsoever) and tells us that the shuttle will be here in about 10 minutes (when have we heard this before?)

So we go back downstairs to wait. And wait... and wait. And finally at 3 am the shuttle for the Delta Hotel East shows up to take us to our destination. By 3:15 we arrive, we check in, we find out that we were not given the two rooms like we ask (there are four of us after all, and since I don't really want to share a bed with my sister [although, I'm so tired, I would pretty much sleep anywhere, with anyone] we wanted 3 beds.) Well, we can't get that, but they do offer me a cot. Okay, fine, just please a place to lay my head. So we go off to our rooms and after waiting for a cot that never arrives, I settle for the couch (one of those two seaters, loveseats, I think), so I have to curl up into an uncomfortable ball, but my head hits the pillow at 3:30 and I am out.

6:00 comes to fast, but if we want to eat (we haven't done that in about 10 hours now) and be downstairs in time to catch the shuttle back to then hotel, then that is the time at which we needed to wake. Now, I have put some thought into this and feel free to disagree with me, but the conditions that make a nap different from a sleep (for me at least) were not met. For me, a sleep needs to be at least 3 hours in length, or in a bed. And since my rest was only 2 1/2 hours and on a couch, I call it a nap. So, I nap, I eat, I'm downstairs and ready to go in the next shuttle. And we wait, and more people arrive for the shuttle, and we wait some more, and more people arrive, and I think back to about 4 hours ago when we were getting into the shuttle at the airport and I remember that it seats only about 16 people, and right now there about 20 of us waiting, and watching the clock. And I think everyone realizes that some family isn't going to make this shuttle, so we all inch closer to the door, and try and get our shoulders in front of someone else. Of course it is all non-verbal, and all very discrete, and all through tiny movements here and there, but we were in competition, and we could afford to lose as it is now 7:00 am and we are supposed to be at Terminal One in 10 minutes, and should be miss this flight it is nobody's fault but our own. Finally the shuttle arrives and it is grade 7 again, everyone running to be the first ones on the shuttle, fortunately I was good at this in grade 7 and I've still got it. I'm one of the first on, and I reserve three seats for the rest of my family. 12 other people get one, 4 or 5 did not and had to wait for the next shuttle. And at about 7:15 we were off.

Now, Toronto's airport has three terminals that you can leave from, all pretty far spaced apart, and our driver asks which terminals we are all going to, one for terminal 3, 2 for terminal 2, and rest for terminal one. And we are looking at our watches and just hoping for the sake of time he goes to terminal one first. Sadly, he does not. I guess it is more efficient to go 3, 2 and then 1. So by 7:30 we are dropped off and ready to go, we hit the airport running, running, running to security where... you guess it. Line up number 10. Now that I don't have any dangerous lighters on me anymore, I clear security fine, and by 7:45 we are at our gate to leave for Edmonton. The adventure was almost over.

Another uneventful flight, one hour of sleep and one Walk the Line later we were in Edmonton, where we had to go and fill out another missing luggage form, as the one we had filled out in Toronto was for customs purposes, and this one was for actually getting your stuff back to you. The guy who helped us here was the first to use the words "please, thank you, and sorry", it is good to be back in Alberta, amongst Albertans. After dealing with so much crap you really come to appreciate little stuff like that, and the next thing that happened we appreciated even more. We say another family that had been through nearly the same ordeal as my family and they had their luggage, they told us that somehow it had arrived in Edmonton. So we race to the luggage carousel where, surprise surprise two of our four bags had in fact arrived. Now, I'm not really sure, how they got there, the only way that makes sense for me was that they arrived in Toronto with us, but for some reason or another, were not unpacked. Whose bags had arrived you ask? My mom's and my sister's. Sigh... my adventure was not quite finished. But at least most of the travel was. And by the time I got home, there was a message from Edmonton International saying they had found my bag and by 8 pm that night I was reunited with my suitcase, minus the zipper tabs... Oh suitcase, what crazy adventures were you on?

So there it is, the crazy end to my Reading Week. Who can top that?

Joe

Sup folks,

Josh Dean saw the blog a couple of days ago and liked what he saw. But he did say one thing that made me think. "Where are all the posts about improv?" Good point Josh, we should have some posts on improv, but just because you have your own sitcom doesn't make you right, but in this case, that's exactly what you are. So, for josh, and anyone else interested, here is a post about my thoughts on improv - "The art of making shit up"

There were a lot of nosebowl participants at chimprov last Saturday. I was glad to see that, because it was a good show to learn from. I'll tell you what I mean. During one scene in the second half, Kevin began by sitting down, Arlen joined him. Kevin said "Mum?", and a relationship was made. It was that easy, one word. Simple. Then Kevin said "I want to see the world" Bingo, we have a problem, and the scene is off and running. I've been teaching Nosebowl workshops this month and explaining this line of dialog without seeing it took me half and hour. During the first half, Crad and I did what is called a paper trail, a game where you write 9 or 10 suggestions on big pieces of paper on the stage before you start a 40 minute improv inspired by the words. It felt awesome. And it felt easy. But improv really is easy. We just need to keep it that way.

In order to craft a story, you need to create a hero and then torture him/her physically and mentally on the way to a goal. With this in mind, I say give the audience what they want. They know better than we do what should happened. For instance, Kevins character wanted to see the world, because his mother had kept him indoors his entire life. As the audience we want to see him out of the house, because that's what was set up. When he gets outside we don't just want him to walk around doing nothing, so he gets into trouble in some way. However, we've only given the audience half of what they want. So Arlen, as many characters, tortures Kevin. Kevin also tortures himself, by raising the stakes and making things worse for his lost little character. And as for the end, it doesn't matter as long as something happends. He goes back home, great. He dies and his mother mourns and says "I told you so", fine. He gets out of the house, finds an apartment and locks himself away again, Cool. Regardless, a beginning had been given, a middle was shown, and an end happened. Audience leaves happy.

The problem in teaching improv to highschool kids, or anyone for that matter, is we are educated to be obedient not creative. You can't spoon feed improv like you can a social studies curriculum. I can't give you an improv equation that will make it all easy. One that you can write on your hand and cheat off during a show.

But, what I can give you is this.

Being good at improv is the ability to think like the audience from onstage. When you start doing improv, your way behind the audience, they're too fast for you. Your thinking about the rules you've been told, the things you can't do and the things that may have worked before. As you get better, you can give them what they want, when they want it, with only minimal thought as to how you go there. After many years of practice, and maybe never, you know what they want way before even they do. And they're blown away because you were thinking what they were, before they knew it.

But even when you suck at improv, and everyone that has ever done it has, at one point. You can have one thing to hold onto. Failure is the only thing of value, because that's what we learn from. So when you fail at improv, or at a relationship, or at school, or anything else, pause and reflect on that last scene of the workshop, of the show, or of life and ask why it didn't work and what did. So that next time your on stage, you can give them what they want.

But I'm probably wrong.

'Night

Jules

What's up sucka-chumps?
It is I, the Joe. And I am in St. Maartin; however, the internet here costs me whopping $.35US per minute, so I'm going to have to make this fast:
One, the beaches are awesome.
Two, the women on them are (mostly) hot, tanned and topless.
Three, the drinks are cool, alcoholic and plentiful.
Four, you duders want me to bring you back anything?
Five, I can't bring you any of the first three items.
Six, Jules, I'm excessively jealous of your shiny lap warmer.

Seven,

Joe

There is no doubt that everyone has at one time had their heart broken by technology. I mean who hasn't lost an important file on their computer or been cheated on by a robot girlfriend.

But today my friends, technology made me smile. I awoke to a knock at the door at 8:30 am, I was pissed. "Who the hell needs me at this hour?" I thought. I should have known technology knows best. It was Fed-Ex delivering my brand new laptop that had left China only three days prior.

What a sweet piece of excess! More computer than I'll ever need, but just as much as I want. I can now blog, while burning a DVD, while downloading music, while I video conference with the built in camera all while listening to a mash-up on iTunes. Seriously.

I also got my hands on a couple of thousands of dollars worth of free software. 1200$ movie editors I'll maybe use twice, just because I can.

With all this fancy pants techno-rific fun at my fingertips I feel the need to really deliver something on each of these posts. So that being said, comment. What do you want to hear? I'm open to almost everything....

Jules

By the way, what do you think of the new header I added to the blog? A little less violent, a little more artistic.

Whew! This has been one hella long week. I ran As You Like It in it's 3 hour entirety 8 times in 6 days, auditioned for Bob Baker at the Citadel, did 2 film workshops, did Theatresports and Chimprov AND took a trip to South Dakota! Today Bill, Condor, Belinda and I met to work on The Fangles, a new Chimprov troupe in which we will be playing real live rock music. It's pretty hilarious already, the four of us jammin'. Drumming is actually going better than I anticipated.

As You Like It was a great show to do, I shall miss it. I'm pretty exhausted from our cast party though...I kind of wish I didn't stay as late as I did cuz now my throat is pretty sore. Kev and I got to do Scratch at Chimprov for the last time for 3 months. It was one of our best yet too which is nice since we only have a few weeks once he's back before we start touring the show. We still have some work to do on Scratch but I'm really happy with how it's coming together. I get so nervous every time we do it though.

JULES and I need to get together this week. SHAAAAAAMON! If JOE wasn't off doing whatever the HELL it is he is doing he could be there too. Joe...if you can hear me...come back...

Leslie seemed upset but I couldn't help the fact her dead daughter looked "a wee bit peckish".

Happy Reading Week!

Arlen

Morning all, It's Sunday and I went to sleep at 7:30am this morning. This lack of sleep is not generally my style, but the last two days were so much fun I figured I should try and make them last as long as possible, even if that meant using up some Sunday. Sorry Sunday.

This was Nose Bowl weekend, the high school improv equivalent to the Super Bowl taking place at the Olympics in the lost city of Atlantis on a leap year. Ya, it's that important. I had been given the task of teaching two teams, one from Wagner and one from Mac. Both good teams, full of nice guys, with similar improv styles. The Style of Funny, as I call it. After some good improv, and even more mediocre improv, (with a sprinkling of bad improv) the teams were weeded down to the top four for a semifinals match up. And of course both the teams I coached had to play eachother.... To the death.... Seriously.
Mac pulled out the win, and went on to win the whole thing, which is great because we need those four guys in theatresports soon.

After all the high school improv dust had settled, it was time for us at Chimprov to kick up some improv dust of our own. Crad and I rocked a two man first half with little to no idea what we were doing at all. But what we pulled out was something I needed so badly, an F'in sweet night of improv. Every scene was good, every scene had substance, every scene had added to the show as a whole. I like to think of doing great improv like I do great sex. It's so good it sustains you. You talk about it and think about it for days and weeks to come. Its like Crad and I had had great sex. Not with eachother. Just at the same time.

As if that orgasmic improv night wasn't enough, we hit the E&C after the show for more chillin' time. After a few sips of beer, I saw some people from the nose bowl from earlier that night. Their names were Jill and Scott. (note: I am using the names Jill and Scott to keep the identities of the actually people, Breanne and Andrew of Archbishop MacDonald High School at 10810 - 142 St., a secret) Turns out it was Jill's 18th birthday and Scott was the only friend she had that was already 18. Needless to say they joined us at the improv peoples table and some birthday shots followed close behind. We shut the bar down and all went over the Crads house for some chillin'... To the extreme. Scotch was had and J's were passed and puffed with the fury of your average cheech and chong movie, for those that smoke the stuff. A few hours later the birthday shots and "okay" scotch caught up to Jill, and she took a turn for the drunk. Scott, being the gentlemen he is, walked Jill back to his car a few blocks away and ended her birthday celebrations a few hours too late. Jill, Scott, is was great meeting you, have fun at your second party today and "holler".

Kev, Crad and I chilled for a few more hours because they're leaving for a few weeks or months, depending on who your talking about. But alas, the time just keeps on ticking, and Sunday had rolled around. It tapped me on the shoulder, told me it was time to sleep and roundhouse kicked me in the face into a sleep that was way to short.

If my reading week is half as good as it began, reading will be the last thing I do.

Thanks for listening.

Jules

Hey everyone (Jules, Arlen and Steve),

It's me again, Joe, and this time it's 3:42 am. What am I still doing awake you ask? I do not know. It could be that the Olympics are on and I really want to see how Becky Scott does in the women's 10Km cross-country ski, or it could be the fact that I have a couple of midterms tomorrow and I'm just not ready for them, and here's the kicker: I have no excuse.

That's right. I am in my last semester of university and am only registered in two classes, I only really need one of them to graduate, and then... I'm done. I receive my $30,000 piece of paper that says I'm a teacher and I go and try and find work in the "real world". So you would think I would really apply myself, ace these last two classes and get the hell out, and yet, I find myself doing the complete opposite. I can't blame some sort of subconscious self-sabotage because I am very conscious of what I am doing, and I do nothing. I am passive in my own destruction.

Alright... I'm being melodramatic, I'm not going to destroy myself, but I am curious as to why, when I have pretty much nothing to do between the hours of 10am and 2:30pm on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I have not yet done any real studying for either of my midterms. I'm sure you have all already guessed the surprising answer... drumroll... I'm bloody scared.

I have become very well adjusted to the roll of student. Hell, I've been doing it for about 17 1/2 years, or roughly 79% of my whole life. And while I have been a contributing member of our wonderful society through my work at a movie theatre and as a tutor, these have always been part-time. My full time job has been for ever so long now: student. Plus, I like the university. Say whatever you want about the U of A campus, I feel at home there. Sure I might only know 1 out of every 1000 students that I see, but for me home is more than knowing the people you surround yourself with, I guess it is like a feeling. One that I'm not ready to lose. And I'm demonstrating that right now as it is 3:55 am.

Feel free to psychoanalyze, I've already drawn the obvious conclusions of fear of the unknown/unfamiliar/uncomfortable, as well as my favourite: fear of failure.

And yet... I'm reaching for the TV remote... again.

Oh Brian Williams, won't you fill my head with wonderful Olympic stories and make it all go away...

Joe

Ah yes, the day of love! Or as I call it, Tuesday. But this year the day of love also coincides with Saint Valentines day, what a treat! But I’ll bet your wondering “But Julian?” then I would say “Yes blog reader?” then you would say “How did Saint Valentines day start?” and I would say…. this….

Long ago in a mythical city named “Rome” a young peasant was clearing a patch of shrubbery from behind his fruit stall when he saw the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. (By today’s standards she would be like a 4, but still back then they didn’t have toothpaste or Oil of Olay)

The peasant asked her for her hand in marriage. She blanched and told a dark story. She was cursed. No man could love her, unless he were a multi-billionaire. This was more a curse of having a crazy father and less witchcraft, but a curse nonetheless. The peasant thought to himself “ How could I, a self proclaimed ‘peasant’, become a multi-billionaire?” He tried to budget for the next few weeks, cutting back on certain luxury items like sandals and water, but only saved a few dollars, far less than the necessary multi of billions needed to marry the woman.

His problem persisted for many months. There seemed to be no possible way for him to become as rich as he needed. He decided to give up. It was the Christmas season so he used all the money he had began to save to buy gifts for his family. After giving the gifts and getting only fake smiles in return, the peasant was disenfranchised with Christmas. He said “I can’t believe I spent all of my money on such a ridiculous made up holiday like Christmas! Those shop owner must be knee deep in coinage with all the people that buy gifts for the holiday season!” Just then the peasant had an idea, he would create a holiday and capitalize on the profits. He created what today we know as Saint Valentines Day.

And if your wondering if he got his lady….

No way! He was loaded! He married a 10 even by today’s standards!

Jules

Wow! A blog. I've never been to one of these before. Where to start?! What should be the first thing I commit to internet paper for all to see? I think perhaps: "Wow! A blog. I've never been to one of these before. Where to start?! What should be the first thing I commit to internet paper for all to see? I think perhaps:"

Currently running the hell out of As You Like It by William Shakespeare over at the Timms. It is going quite well. As school slowly comes to a close I have been doing lots of thinking/planning about what I will do next year. Still not sure...will keep you posted.

Item! Work is also slowly beginning on the first YOUNG GUNS movie which will be shot this summer and by all accounts will be awesome. However, this Young Guns movie will unfortunately not feature Emilo Estevez with a soundtrack by Bon Jovi. But you can expect lots of comedy in the style of Tim Allen.

Valentine's is perhaps the most wonderful holiday of the year. I plan to spend it the way I usually do, calling all of my ex-girlfriends and breathing heavily into the phone until they hang up and then eating a full bag of Cheetos and falling asleep in a pool of tears to Wave's hit single "California". ... ... ... ...

Jules if your looking to start something new...I suggest smoking!...and by smoking I mean running or meditation! Joey I learned a lot about you from your post. I wish mine was that good. Steve I anxiously await your arrival.

Hot tip! A fun thing to do is hot glue gun mice to your shoes and then let them carry you around on their backs, like your own personal shoe chariots.

Arlen

I felt it was time to post a little something on this blog that I have worked so hard on for the past few hours. I've also been hard at work trying to log into the Rapid Fire website to update a few things, but thus far I have been thwarted by technology. What else is new, between red lights impeding my progress in life AND in driving to my over-dependence on my cell phone. (I think I counted 3 numbers memorized on my own, one of which is mine)

Technology has taken over and the Internet forgot to tell us.

I've been thinking I need to start something new. Nothing crazy, trying out meditation was one thought, running was another. I think it may have to do with the fact I feel a little lost and the option of travel has to be put on hold 'till at least once school is over. If any one has any ideas of new things I could do, then comment. In the meantime I'll just keep doing what I’m doing, even if I'm not sure what that is. Maybe once Steve gets back in town he'll fix everything, Ya..EVERYTHING!

No pressure Steve.

Peace.

Jules

Alright all you people in internet land (most likely Arlen, Jules and Steve) I've decided since I can't sleep anyway I might as well add what I would like to call the first official (or at least significant) posting to this very young (pun intended) blog.

And... since I'm too dead tired, but for some reason I can't sleep, which is weird because for those that know me you know that sleeping has never been an issue for me, and you would also know that I love this little thing that is known in the world of grammar as the "comma splice" (that's right, my horrible secret is that I never learned how to use the comma appropriately).

What the hell was the point of all this? Well, now you know two things about me.
1. Usually CAN sleep, tonight can not.
2. Does not understand when or where to use a comma.

Wanna learn more about me? Well, it just so happens to be that I have a list...
(Thanks Line of Best Fit.)

TEN FIRSTS
First Best Friend: Aaron
First Screen Name: joeyjojo11
First Pet: Sandy (Cockapoo)
First Piercing: Nope
First Crush: Rachelle
First CD: Not CD, Tape. Kris Kross “Jump”
First Car: Toyota Tercel
First Stuffed Animal: Brown Teddy, I’ve had it since birth
First Kiss [at Age]: 12ish…
First Nickname: Bubba

NINE LASTS
Last Alcoholic Beverage: A really bad white wine
Last Car Ride: Home from my folk’s place
Last Movie Seen: Brokeback Mountain
Last Phone Call: Home
Last Song Played: Matisyahu – King Without a Crown
Last Bubble Bath: God… Maybe when I was 5…
Last Time You Cried: ‘Bout a year ago… It’s been a while.
Last Pet: Still got him, Wicky (Pompoo)
Last Song You Sang: A desperate attempt at the last song played. He sings fast.

EIGHT HAVE-YOU-EVERS
Have you ever dated one of your best friends: She wasn’t when I started dating her.
Have you ever been arrested? No.
Have you ever skinny-dipped: Yes.
Have you ever been on TV: Yes.
Have you ever kissed someone, and then regretted it? No.
Have you ever had a sex dream about someone? Yes.
Have you ever cheated on someone? No.
Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn't? Yes.

SEVEN THINGS YOU ARE WEARING
1. Boxers.
2. Headphones
3. Glasses
4. That’s it.
5. Seriously.
6. Umm…
7. Skin.

SIX THINGS YOU'VE DONE TODAY (at the time of writing today has only been around for about 100 minutes)
1. Restlessly toss and turn
2. Check e-mail
3. Open word program
4. Checked blog
5. Listened to tunes on Winamp
6. Wondered…

FIVE PEOPLE YOU CAN TELL ANYTHING TO (Anything? Probably no one. MOST things…)
1. The Bib
2. Carey
3. Jules
4. Arlen
5. Nellie

FOUR FAVORITE THINGS IN NO ORDER
1. Improv.
2. The Bib.
3. Food. Seriously, not just for sustenance, I LOVE it.
4. Family.

THREE CHOICES
1.Black or White: Black
2. Hot or Cold: Cold
3. Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate

TWO THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE
1. Tour Europe
2. Have a family

ONE THING YOU REGRET
1. Whitemagik

Have You Ever:
(x) been on a plane
(x) smoked a cigar
( ) thrown up in a bar
( ) made out with a member of the same sex
(x) purposely set a part of yourself on fire (does hair count?)
( ) crashed a friend's car
(x) eaten Sushi
( ) stolen a car
(x) been snowboarding
(x) skipped school
(x) been moshing at a concert
( ) slept with a co-worker
(x) love someone or miss someone right now
( ) slept with more than 15 people
(x) laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
( ) been called a slut
(x) made a snow angel
( ) had a one night stand
(x) had a tea party
( ) had more than just one one night stands
(x) flown a kite
(x) built a sand castle
(x) been suspended from school
(x) gone puddle jumping
(x) been in a car accident
(x) played dress up
(x) had braces
(x) seen something die
(x) jumped into a pile of leaves
(x) been in love
(x) gone sledding
(x) been dumped
(x) cheated while playing a game
(x) shoplifted (accidentally)
(x) been lonely
(x) been fired
(x) fallen asleep at work/school
(x) been in a fist fight
( ) used a fake id
(x) snuck out of your parent's house
( ) been caught sneaking out
(x) watched the sun set
(x) had feelings for someone who didn't
( ) felt like an outcast
( ) felt an earthquake
( ) been arrested
(x) touched a snake
( ) made out with a stranger
(x) slept beneath the stars
( ) gone on a blind date
(x) been tickled
(x) lied to a friend
(x) been robbed
(x) had a crush on a teacher
(x) been misunderstood
(x) been to USA
(x) petted a reindeer/goat
(x) been to Mexico
(x) won a contest
(x) run a red light
(x) been in an abusive relationship
(x) eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
( ) had an ice cream fight
(x) had deja vu
(x) hated the way you look
(x) witnessed a crime
( ) pole danced
(x) questioned your heart
( ) been obsessed with post-it notes
(x) been obsessed with someone else
(x) squished barefoot through the mud
(x) been lost
(x) been to the opposite side of the country
(x) swam in the ocean
(x) felt like dying
(x) cried yourself to sleep
(x) played cops and robbers
(x) recently colored with crayons
(x) sung karaoke
( ) paid for a meal with only coins
(x) made prank phone calls
(x) laughed until your drink came out of your nose
(x) caught a snowflake on your tongue
(x) danced in the rain
(x) written a letter to Santa Clause
(x) been kissed under a mistletoe
(x) watched the sun rise with a friend/love
(x) blown bubbles
(x) made a bonfire on the beach
( ) crashed a party
( ) gone rollerskating
(x) had a wish come true
( ) humped a monkey
( ) worn pearls
( ) jumped off a cliff
( ) screamed penis in class
(x) ate dog/cat food
( ) told a complete stranger you loved them
(x) kissed a mirror
(x) sang in the shower
( ) have a little black dress
(x) had a dream that you married someone
(x) glued your hand to something
(x) got your tongue stuck to a pole
( ) kissed a fish
(x) worn the opposite sexes clothes
( ) been a cheerleader
(x) sat on a roof top
(x) screamed at the top of your lungs
(x) done a one-handed cartwheel
( ) talked on the phone for more than 6 hours
(x) stayed up all night
(x) didn't take a shower for a week
(x) pick and ate an apple right off the tree
(x) climbed a tree
( ) had a tree house
(x) are scared to watch scary movies alone
(x) believe in ghosts
( ) have more then 30 pairs of shoes
( ) worn a really ugly outfit to school
(x) gone streaking
( ) played ding-dong-ditch
(x) played chicken
( ) been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on
( ) been told you're hot by a complete stranger
( ) broken a bone
(x) been easily amused
(x) caught a fish
( ) made porn
(x) caught a butterfly
(x) laughed so hard you cried
(x) cried so hard you laughed
(x) mooned/flashed someone
(x) had someone moon/flash you
(x) cheated on a test
( ) have a Britney Spears CD
(x) forgotten someone's name
(x) slept at your boyfriends/girlfriends house
( ) French braided someone's hair
(x) gone skinny dippin
( ) been kicked out your house

Now THAT'S a first post. I really hope that if anyone actually hits this blog that they skipped most of that stuff, cause, MAN, it was looooong. But it was a successful way to kill 20 minutes or so.

Perhaps I will try that sleeping thing again.

Peace.