D-D-Do It or Die!

It must have been a month or two ago when I first heard of Die Mannequin. Right after I heard of them, I actually heard them - the DJ announced their single Do It or Die and I was hooked from the first stuttering, coarsely-sung lyrics

D-d-do it or die!

The guitars are heavy and they grind like chainsaws. The rhythm is catchy and the lyrics simply drive me insane.

Between the first time I heard it and now, I never did hear it on the radio again. I just woke up one morning and - for some reason - those first lyrics were on my lips. I brought the video up on YouTube just to hear the song and I was blown away again. The song has been playing through my head over and over again for the last few days

Must be something in mind
Do it
Do it or die!

As far as Triple-Es go, this one is right up there as it has wrapped a firm grip around my mind and has given 'er hell for a few days on end. And givin'er... that's a plan right there.

Oh, The Sweetest Thing!

Just this past Sunday I was sitting in church and my attention was drawn to a fellow parishioner sitting in the pew in front of me. I had met this woman earlier this year as we had both expressed interest in going on a mission to the Caribbean and have attended meetings in preparation for it.

But I digress... There she sat, listening intently to the Gospel. Her legs were crossed, ankle above knee, making a triangle of her lap in which an infant - presumably hers - was lying. The child was all bundled up in a blanket, its head nestled into the crook of the mother's knee. It was quite a cute sight to see - and intriguing as I had never actually seen a baby cradled in that manner.

Later on, after Communion, I returned to my pew and knelt. The mother was kneeling in her pew while her son - about 5 years - sat beside her, cradling the - now sleeping - baby while their mother prayed. I glanced down once and saw the older brother gently stroking the baby's brow, carefully rocking back and forth, periodically pulling the child closely in a tender hug...

It was such a heartwarming scene in such a beautiful atmosphere, bathed in the peace of the Eucharist. What greater an expression of humanity?!

Dating and Relationships

I came across this article a few days ago.

It's a bit rough to start out with, but over time, I feel the author develops some very interesting opinions and perspectives on the ideas of courtship, dating and the needs of males and females.

Melancholy

Normally I enjoy the irreverent comedy found in Cyanide and Happiness comics.

When I saw this particular edition, however, I was overcome with melancholy.

I'm probably reading too much into it, but the denial of motherhood, the denial of new life, and a representation of society's morbid apathy cum pleasantness toward it just rang all too loudly with me...

The Team

As it turns out, Matthew Good has great taste in hockey teams.

His reasons for liking the Montréal Canadiens are very similar to mine. I grew up a Habs fan because my Dad was a Habs fan. For a time, though, when I was in junior high and high school, I ended up cheering for them crazy Oilers, but before long I shed my foolish adolescent rebelliousness and came back to Les Glorieux.

There simply isn't a better team to cheer for. As far as I know, there is no team that has the same kind of far-reaching following, the sheer volume of intensely dedicated fans.

One of my favourite memories of the Habs was just recently when the Canadiens were playing in Florida (crap, I can't actually remember if it was the Panthers or the Lightning) and the number of Habs fans in the arena absolutely dominated the home team's fans. The disparity was so great that when the away-team Habs went on the powerplay, the customary "boo" couldn't be heard behind the triumphant roar of supporters eager to see that No.1 power play go to work.

So, here's to the Habs: while they may not make this year the year of their 25th Cup, they have at least - as always - inspired a nation of fans, proud to colour themselves bleu, blanc et rouge.

Dala, the darlings

TRIPLE-E ATTACK!

One of my newest favourites, Dala is an incredible duo. I saw them open for Matthew Good on his tour last fall and I've been hooked ever since.

Whenever I think of driving long distances across the prairies, this song creeps into my head. It's got such a solid beat, such a great melody. It just seems so cleansing...

Perhaps that's why I sometimes catch myself singing this one in the shower.

All the trees
Follow me
In single file
-- Dala - Anywhere Under the Moon

What a freakin' DAY!

There was way too much going on yesterday. However, it all seemed to work out really well.

BeerFest Aftermath
Friday night was a gong-show involving the following excellent things:

• Live Music
• Beer(Fest)
• "Sniper Wolf"
• SFO
• The Purple Onion
• Partying with my sister, whom, I learned, I miss a lot more than I previously realized

Saturday morning dealt with cleaning up the wreckage and having the classic greasy-spoon breakfast. After that, I spent 5 minutes brushing the snow off of my car - it had snowed about 6 inches through the previous night and that morning. I then drove one of my friends home and then...

I went to Work!
In the words of my friend Jane, "wow, you math nerds are hardcore." As far as working on Saturdays go, yesterday was pretty good. I finished everything that needed to be finished and didn't have to spend more than 3 hours there. I also got a chance to have a laid-back conversation with my boss about all kinds of things - you know, one of those talks where the wise teacher casually bestows his knowledge upon the pupil. It was sweet.

Co-ed Bridal Shower
I went to a bridal shower for my friends. It was quite the experience, actually. I hear that those things are usually boring as can be, but it was a lot of fun. Having a chance to meet up with those two lovebirds. lol. If I'm not mistaken, I overheard the bride-to-be say, "Well, I'm not so much excited for the wedding as I am for marriage."

That's the way it's gotta be! She's got such a good head on her shoulders.

Kegger
Yes, that's right. After the shower, I headed over to a kegger and BBQ. It was a year-end deal for the university wrestling team, but because of the brutal weather, the host decided to open the invitations up to any of his friends. I walked over there from my apartment - a solid 40 minutes - and was greeted by SFO, red-faced, and somewhat damp.

The dampness was because he had a shower. He had a shower because he had just previously been in the sauna. Indeed, this house had a sauna. The sauna would periodically produce sweaty-wrestling-dudes who would then go outside and wrestle in the snow. It was crazy to watch. I had a few beers.

Up to this point, everything had happened before 7:30.

Movies!
The night before, SFO and I had told each other that we should rent Kill Bill Volume 2, because neither of us had seen it, but both of us wanted to. So, what better time to do just that than at 8:15 pm after having done the best you could at a kegger?

We made the long walk back home, cracked a couple beers, and threw the movie on. SFO's consciousness barely made it past the opening credits. I hung on through the whole movie.

I cried at the part where B meets her daughter. There I was, all the events of the day preceding, at about 10:30 at night, crying to KILL BILL?! Holy crap.

During the movie, I realized that it would be done by 11 o'clock, and with SFO passed-out, I'd need to find some other companion for further festivities.

Vagina Monologues and Fedoras
Jane is a real go-to-girl for good times†. This weekend was no exception. I called her up and she said that she was going to go out dancing soon, but currently she was over at a friend's place having wine and something something... VAGINA MONOLOGUES?

"Matt, are you going to be ok with this? I mean, this place is full of girls. You will be the only guy here."
"Yeah, I can handle myself." Damn, that's hilarious.

I grabbed my fedora and made for the door. Upon arriving at the place, I recognized that Jane was absolutely correct. I was the only guy there, but it wasn't hard to fit in. The ladies were incredibly welcoming. One of them went so far as to give me a cute nickname, "Empire." This was largely due to the fact that she was very drunk, did not catch my name and "Empire" was the word displayed on my shirt.

Sincerely, though, it was a great time*.

Following this, we headed down to the bar for drinks and dancing. After walking one of the lovely ladies home, I myself, once again, made the long stroll along the river to my apartment.

Arriving home at just after 3 am, I had had a long, satisfying, convoluted day.

I usually hate to juggle activities like that, feeling that I'm often unable to really "give'er" as I switch from one to the next, but this time everything turned out really well.

I was full of vigour and resolve.

However, this morning, I find that I am now in need of the latter.



†A friend of mine pointed out that this line makes it seem like it was a booty-call. This is not the case. I was not desirous of booty. Just company and an atmosphere conducive to dancing.
* And they all agreed that my fedora is awesome. I would not have typed this if it was untrue, nor would I have typed this if SFO hadn't hated my fedora so much. That's right SFO, if you're reading this, I typed that just to spite you!

Fedoras

I bought a fedora.

I've lost 85 years and I remember a time when men were gentle and women were ladies.


















Should probably still lock up your daughters, though.