The art of letter writing

Just a short-ish post tonight. I have a stack of books and a letter to attend to. And speaking of letters...

On many days, a significant chunk of my work day is spent being nosy and reading other people's mail. Not surprisingly, it's probably the part of the job I love the most, particularly when the letter writers are ... well, writers. I've long been fascinated with correspondence, particularly between people who know how to ... well, write. I find I can lose myself when I'm sorting through a series of interesting letters that share ideas, interests and friendship. It can be remarkably stirring.

As some of you can attest - those that I correspond with frequently via e-mail, in other words - I too love to correspond via the written word. For one, it's my main form of procrastination during the day. I figure it's better to e-mail than to surf the web since it keeps my mind (somewhat) active and engaged. (It was truly the best procrastination device when I made my living as a writer as it would keep my fingers moving on the keyboard.)

Still, as much as I love to write and receive e-mail, is there anything better than coming home after a long workday and seeing a letter - a real letter! - in the mailbox? Hell, it can even be a postcard. It's tactile and "old school," but wonderful all the same. To that end, I'm making an effort (and I know I can hear some of you groan, adding "I've heard this song before") to get back to real letter writing again. For those whose addresses I have, watch your mailbox! And to those who want to receive a letter, you know where to reach me if you want to send me your address. (My first letter is long overdue to a particular receipent, but I needed some time to reflect first and to let some raw feelings heal a mite. I know I'm being cagey and somewhat mysterious. Apologies. I actually started it today while in the laundromat.)

Civic duty

It seems I can't go two months without having to cast a vote in an election. Today was voting day in Toronto to elect our municipal government. (Thankfully they've changed the municipal rules and the new mayor and council will be in office for four rather than three years. That's a change for the better.) Like a good citizen, I went to the polls after work - it helps that my polling station was the school right next to the house, so it took me all of 30 seconds to get there - and performed my civic duty. Not that my vote is going to be terribly meaningful: David Miller is pretty much a shoo-in for mayor (and in fact he was declared the winner as soon as City-TV's election coverage began at 8:00; of course it could have declared him the winner six months ago, this being perhaps the dullest mayoral race that I can remember) and my riding is almost a near-certainty for the incumbent Joe Mihevc. It will also mean that my vote isn't the kiss of death this time since I happened to vote for both these guys. (More often than not, those I vote for end up getting slaughtered - not literally, thankfully.)

So why do I still vote even though it has no meaningful impact on the results? Well, we live in a democracy, a privilege that not everybody on this planet gets to enjoy (and yet one that many desire). I take my democratic rights seriously (honest!). More acutely, our day-to-day lives are probably most affected by what happens in the municipal chamber - it's important our voice is heard in electing those members that make the decisions that have a direct impact on this city. I also remember what a high school teacher once told a class I was in: he basically said if you don't vote, you really don't have the right to bitch and whine about what the government does or doesn't do.

And some votes really do count: when I last checked the results in the ward immediately next to mine, the difference between the top two was a mere 8 votes. Unbelievable. (But I've rechecked and the woman who I hoped would win, Alejandra Bravo, is now down by over 100 votes. Too bad: she's the kind of fresh voice the city needs. Municipal elections are a lot like the House elections in the US: rarely does an incumbent lose.)

So now that he's officially re-elected, I have a message for the second-term mayor: Mr. Miller, you've been given a second mandate. Your first term was ok, but there seemed to be a lot more promise than substance. Let's see you come through on some of your promises from three years ago, namely some real movement on the waterfront. Give up the island airport fight. That part of the waterfront is fucked anyway because of rampant over development. But you have a chance to make a real and lasting impact on the east end of the city with respect to the waterfront. Build some much-needed green space - space for everybody that lives in the city, and not the privileged few that desire a condo on that stretch of as-yet undeveloped land. And how about some more bike lanes while you're at it? This city has so much potential - let's see it reach it.

I want to proud again to live in this city.

Don't try this at home kids!

On a whim while vacuuming this morning, I decided to do some rearranging of the apartment. I've been living here for over a year now and thought that moving some of the furniture might give the place some renewed energy. The big change I decided upon was to move my bedroom - not the room itself, of course, but the bed and the bedside table. For those that haven't seen my apartment, I live on the second floor of a house that also has a small upstairs "loft." Since I moved in, I've been using that space primarily as an office (it also doubles as a place for storage, including my winter bike). But I find I haven't been utilizing the upstairs much anymore. As soon as the warm weather hit, I moved my main computer downstairs since it gets ridiculously hot and stifling up there in the summer. (There's no window in the loft, although apparently that's in the works for next year.) And it can a little bit chilly in the winter. As a result, the main occupant of the upstairs tends to be the cat: it's where I keep her food and litter box.

I've always liked loft spaces as bedrooms, so I decided I would move the bed up there for a few months (ie., through the winter) and see if I enjoy it. Yes, it does get cold in the loft during the winter, but I find I'm usually too warm in bed anyway. (I also have a new duvet, which keeps me toasty warm - often too toasty.) And since I'm not dating anybody, I don't have to worry about a partner's potential warmth in a cooler room. I would then move my "office" (such as it is, hence the quotes) into the old bedroom, and have it double as a place to read.

Along with friendship, companionship and sex, I've discovered one other wonderful benefit of being in a relationship: having someone help move the furniture! I got the bed frame up there fine, but I'm struggling big time with the box spring. I'm starting to wonder whether it will actually fit up the stairs, but when I look at it (and it's not easy to miss since it's about two feet from my face right now...) and the stairs, there's no reason why it shouldn't make it up there. I've decided it's a two-person job though. So as it stands, I'm waiting for a friend to come by and help me out. Cross your fingers. I'll provide an update later on my success or failure.

Update: Trial and error in getting the box spring up to the loft was primarily error. As a result, the bed is back in the old room and my furniture rearrangement plans are pretty much a bust. Must come up with a new solution to shake things up.

Lest We Forget

Just a few words this morning. Today, Remembrance Day, is a day for silent reflection. While I generally regard myself as a pacifist and shake my head in frustration at man's capacity to wage war, I think it's important to remember those who have perished fighting for what they believe was a just cause. Yes, war is stupid, yet it seems we'll never live in a wholly peaceable world. Thus there will always be a need to honour and show genuine appreciation to those who willingly sign up to defend something as nebulous as "our country" or "our freedoms." (Yikes, I hope I'm not sounding too much like a raging patriot or George W. Bush!)

This year's Ottawa service, most of which took place in a driving rain (and was marred somewhat by CBC's terrible technical feed), seemed to be particularly moving due to the seemingly larger amounts of younger people involved, primarily the widows and children of young soldiers who have died in Afghanistan. (And today is not a day to post my feelings on that mission.) But I can be a little "soft" when it comes to this kind of stuff and have a tendency to be overly emotional at these types of ceremonies. (I feel a little vulnerable this morning as well - not sure where that's coming from.)

If you're curious about Canada and its role in the first World War - and really, Canada came into its own as a country during WWI - check out this site that Library and Archives Canada has put together.

smoked meat, part 2

It appears I'm getting this in just under the wire tonight. I was out with a former colleague but now close friend A. Proof of how much I enjoy her company is that I completely forgot about this crazy post-a-day challenge! It was only as I was riding my bike home from her place that I realized I had but 15 minutes to turn on the computer and post something quickly before midnight strikes. I feel like Cinderella!

About the only observation I have is that I saw the first Christmas lights of the season. I like the holiday season as much as the next person, but give me a fucking break. We're still two weeks away from American Thanksgiving (which is about the time I feel it's appropriate to begin discussing xmas). Truth be told, except for having time off of work, I'd like to avoid the whole holiday season this year. Last year was tough enough, but I fear this year is going to be even more difficult. (One significant change: I won't be able to indulge in my usual holiday treat of cashews because of the braces.)

I predict much grinning and bearing. And apologies for two junkie posts in a row.

the "smoked meat" post

As I predicted, there would be posts like this: ones that I just don't have the time to properly formulate because I was too busy at work (truth be told, I don't really visit blogger during work hours) and/or too busy with social stuff. But I promised to post something every day, so here you go. I'll admit, it's a fairly junky post.

I was out tonight with some former school colleagues: one is a friend, the other two are just acquaintances. But it did get me thinking: how come I didn't make more of an effort during my two years of schooling to befriend these people? How come we never went out drinking? It seems strange that I'm more interested in hooking up with these people now that I'm out of school than I did when I was in school.

Yes, I need to make more of an effort.

Bye bye, Rummy!

It's just too tempting to write about last night's US election - and it gets me off the topic of my teeth. As some of you might know (though I bet most don't), I'm something of a US political junkie. I've long been fascinated by US history - in fact, when in high school, I seriously considered studying American history for my undergraduate studies (it would have been a part of a larger study of international politics; I've written in the past on some of my other blogs about my regrets in my decision making in terms of my post-secondary education so I don't feel the need to tread those waters again!). It's such a wonderfully rich and fascinating history, not to mention that I rather like Americans - well, at least the Americans that I know (who seem to act more like Canadians, now that I think about it, particularly when it comes to their political leanings). Alas, my university studies took me in another direction, but I never lost my interest in American politics. (Clear evidence: I rarely miss This Week with George Stephanopoulos on Sunday mornings.)

Naturally, I was quite happy this morning to wake up to the news that the Democrats took control of the House, and that they were deliciously close to winning the Senate. (Dubya can forget about trying to push through an overtly conservative Supreme Court justice if a vacancy pops up.) And really, I don't have much more to add from what the pundits have been saying all day (although this "clear signal of a new direction desired" as some are calling the results is not really that clear; after all, the country is still bitterly divided). And as for Rumsfeld's departure from the Pentagon? It's about time! Pity he couldn't take the other architect of the Iraqi War, Cheney, with him as he clears out his office. (One more aside: It bugs me to see the Republicans on the airwaves going on and on about "fighting Al-Qaeda" in Iraq. There was no Al-Qaeda in Iraq when the military invaded! They seem to be confusing sectarian violence and a civil war with the so-called war on terror.)

And Bush? Can anybody spell "lame duck"?

One more quick aside about the braces: I'm having my first social outing tonight with them on. I'm hooking up with a new acquaintance I met at a friend's party just over a week ago. I've warned her about the braces so it won't be a complete shock. Still, it's hard to get over feeling terribly self-conscious about them.