I had to call in sick for my shift today because of a terrible fever. After being horizontal for about 95% of the last 24 hours I feel much better, although still a little stuffy. It's amazing how much moaning and groaning I am capable of when I feel sick, and further, how much better it makes me feel to do so.
Springtime is officially here, and so are the ants that come with it. They have found their way into my house already, there's one looking into the headphone jack of my computer as we speak. I'm really not bothered by them at all, what bothers me is how the heck they get in here in the first place. I must admit this little guy's persistence is inspiring. I've flicked him in various directions about five times now, made him violently hit the posters that line my wall, but he just keeps getting back up. My hat goes off to him.
My buddy Mitten exposed me to this ridiculous e-find called '
Codex Seraphinianus'. During the seventies, this fellow
Luigi Serafini spent thirty months creating this visual encyclopedia documenting some fictional world (much like our own, admittedly). The most fascinating thing about it is the fact that it's written in a made-up language which, to this day, still hasn't been cracked. The entire thing is available for download
here, I really suggest you take a look at it. The artwork is stunning, the ideas are hilarious... my favourite are the trees swimming and reproducing...
I'm potentially moving downtown this September, finally. Really the idea has just been talked about, but the rent is dirt cheap, and it's a full-house in Kensington Market on Nassau Street. The three people I'd be living with have pretty much secured some hold on the property, and are going to go down and take a look at it soon. Isn't that exciting, for me? C'mon. Spencer MacEachern, moving out of Markham, living in Kensington Market, trying to fit in with Kensington hipsters, etc. I just salivated onto my keyboard and nearly electrocuted myself. The hilarious ingredient to this recipe is that these three people I'd be living with are all girls. Would I want to kill myself by the end of our lease, or would it be good for me? Surely it's better than living with three other guys, I should think. I could help bring balance, act as a referee during any moments of estrogen-infused cattiness (mind you, knowing me, I'd just swim in it). Plus all of them are musicians-- well, Kate used to play violin and doesn't really anymore, but I'd change that. Excited!
