There is an incredibly annoying glare on my screen from the sun coming in behind me. I have been away from my parents’ home for a while now and I return to find certain things changed. Like the curtains in the window of the computer room, they’re gone. Other things are missing though, and there are also new things around. I talk to my parents on the phone about twice a week, funny how they don’t mention the changes to me.

I don’t let this bother me however. Not today. I’m pretty excited for the day’s events. Today, I’m spending time with one of my best friends which is always a treat. Being in love with your best friends makes it all that much sweeter. Tonight, I’m meeting with some friends who I haven’t seen for quite some time. Old friends from high school. Weird part is, I know that we don’t really know each other. We’ve hardly spoken face-to-face since high school but we’ve managed to keep in touch through the wonders of email and ICQ. Is that enough to build on a friendship? It’s still communication. I can still convey my ideas to them. Maybe it isn’t enough, but at least it’s something. Either way, I’m looking forward to this evening. As Sid would say, “I’m fucking chuffed!” about tonight.
I’ll save you a seat.

Wow, this has been quite the evening. Originally I was to go to a friends place to watch Higher Learning (great movie!), but those plans received an impromptu shafting. So I’ve spent the night talking to my girlfriend on the phone (always an amazing time) and chatting with friends on icq. I’ve also made some new friends. Sid and Jill (other OE writers, Jill is currently MIA), have been newly added to my icq list. Talking to new people is always interesting, as well as inspiring.

The whole time I listen to my music on Winamp. I love this thing. It’s a completely oblivious and unbiased jukebox. It doesn’t care what it’s just played, it doesn’t care what it plays next. I listen to such a wide variety of music, my computer could never be a commercial radio. I don’t care what station you’re listening to, you will never hear Michael Jackson followed by Ravi Shankar. Or Weezer right after Bach’s Tocatta and Fugue in D minor. You will never hear that on any radio station. I heard it all tonight. Totally random. But still a perfect mix.

Wes keeps sending me music files of his band (of which Greg is also a member). These tunes are soooo good!! Damn good! I’m really happy for them that they can do this stuff, and make such great music, but at the same time I’m jealous. I’m jealous because that used to be me. Music was my life, it still is, but it’s a life I’m not supposed to have right now. I’m supposed to be in school, learning laws and rules and numbers. No room for creativity here. I can’t do that life anymore. I have to return to music. I’ve been away from it for too long now, I’ve been neglecting it. My bass doesn’t quite groove the way it used to. Soon though…

Soon I’ll shed the weight of this institution from my shoulders and replace it with the weight of my instrument. My fingers are tingling just thinking about it. Or maybe that’s numbness setting in. It’s late, and I have another day at the office tomorrow. Back to the race for at least one more day.

I’m in a race. It’s not a fast race, people take their time, the main key here is to finish. Some people take it very seriously and rush through the course and never notice the scenery, or the other competitors. This is a pretty long race, I think people should take their time and enjoy it. So here I am, running, more like walking actually. Checking out the scenery, meeting other competitors, getting to know them, and even building friendships with them. People even younger than I are racing past me at quite a fast pace, but I keep my slow steadiness going, I feel no need to rush. Now I’m nearing the end of the race and I can even see the finish line. I’m missing something though….my baton! I can’t finish the race without my baton. I can’t go back to find it though, I have to stop where I am and search for it.

At the finish line there are people waiting for me. Family, friends, bosses, co-workers, peers and other competitors who have passed me. I’m not sure if I want to be there yet. I don’t have my baton so I can’t finish anyways. I have a very strong urge to walk off the course and cross the barrier to exit the race into the crowd. Another part of me just wants to stay where I am. I’ve stopped walking now. I only move forward when another competitor bumps me from behind. I’m slowly inching my way to the side barrier. Maybe I’m just tired, but this race isn’t for me anymore. And that seat in the crowd looks oh so comfortable.

I know that people might not like to hear about Starbucks again, but I can’t help it. As Elaine mentioned, it’s part of my family. My brother works at a Starbucks somewhere in Vancouver. Everytime one comes into view or mentioned within earshot, my mom makes a comment about how much he likes to work there, or praises the benefits the company has to offer. So I am unable to avoid it’s force. (My brother was unavailable for comment at this time. It is still in debate whether he does in fact enjoy working there).

I think it’s a cult.

Employee’s are referred to as Barista’s. That’s scary. It sounds like a rank in the armed forces. I don’t know what army it is, but it sure isn’t the Canadian army. They don’t even speak english there. I don’t know what language it is, but that beverage menu is NOT english. Ordering one cup of coffee requires as many words as it does to order a meal for four at McDonald’s. I’m scared to order anything at Starbuck’s. I know that if I screw up my order and (heaven forbid) I say ‘large coffee please’ instead of ‘mucho grande latte por favor Senora Barista’, the nice girl behind the counter will correct me and repeat my order in the proper lingo. She doesn’t do this to offend me, she does it because she’s supposed to. It’s the Starbucks way. It’s so that I can become knowledged in the ways of ordering coffee in the Starbucks fashion, and maybe someday become part of the Starbucks Barista Army. You don’t have to be an employee to be part of the SBA. You don’t have to go to their brainwashing Coffee College either. Customers are like the army’s reserve. You rarely go into combat, but they give you the basic training.

So beware my friends, they’re out there to convert you. My family has been converted. I’ve never asked my parents about this, but it’s clearly evident in the amounts of free coffee and tea stored in our kitchen. Starbucks offers such fringe benefits to blind you from seeing that you are actually part of a cult.

That’s just my small take on it.

Enjoy your brew.

Starbucks wants you!

Notice the time of my last posting. Notice the time of this posting. Has Buck slept at all between the two postings? no.

This makes Buck angry. Very angry. Why haven’t I slept? I tried to sleep, don’t get me wrong, I tried. But I couldn’t, too much shit on my mind.

Here’s something that keeps me up:
A few weeks ago, my girlfriend and I were standing outside a university residence building, she was having a smoke. Some dude walks by as she’s putting the smoke out. She butted it out against the wall of the building and we were about to go inside when this dude (who is now 30 feet away) shouts to us “excuse me, but that wall is NOT an ashtray!”

FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!
actually this wall IS an ashtray! A cigarette was successfully extinguished against it, making it some form of tabacco ash receptical (aka an ashtray). What makes people so anal to do these things? This guy actually took the time to stop and inform us that a wall cannot be something else. What the fuck does he care?! First of all, he didn’t even live in that particular building. Second of all………I’m not going to go on about how stupid this guy is. What’s a cigarette going to do? burn the brick exterior to the ground? Maybe it’s decreased the value of the building now, thereby lowering the current value of his investment in the residence. Either way the guy’s an idiot and deserves to die. That’s right, die. The world needs less anal pricks like this. These are the same jackoffs who grow up to become the picky know-it-all bosses everyone gets to work for. I think killing these people would be a great benefit to society and the economy.

Fine asshole, I’ll save your precious wall and butt out my smoke on the park bench or on the freshly cut grass. Happy now? Oh George, where are you?

Ryan just put up my new bio. That picture looks so cool. Mr. T is so bad ass.

A few years ago Mr. T was diagnosed with Lymphoma, a very serious form of cancer. So serious in fact that he pulled himself out of a London stage production of Aladin. Mr. T (I think ‘T’ stands for thespian) played the genie (of course). He was in the hospital for quite a while, then moved back home to spend some time with his loved ones. Mr. T has battled and continues to battle the disease, and now seems to be on the winning end. He’s back on TV now starring in several commercials in the US, making appearances on Connan O’Brien, and is also the official spokesperson for TV Land, a new cable station in the US (americans have all the best stuff!).

Aside from winning a struggle against a deadly disease, T also has many other great hero qualities. First of all, he drinks milk. How good is that? Whenever he’s on TV, the only drink he has is milk. He also teaches kids about the dangers of drugs, alcohol, and cigerettes. As part of his cancer treatment, T requires many frequent medical shots. He says that he can get them done at home, but he prefers to get them at the hospital so he can meet people to help them in their fights, whatever they happen to be. In his own video he released in 1984, “Be Somebody, or Be Somebody’s Fool”, T goes on to teach kids that it’s important to be different. Way ahead of his time, T spoke about straying away from big brand names and designing your own clothing, or making use of old clothing to suit your own style. Pure genius. He even has his famous catch phrase “I pity the fool” copyrighted. Brawn AND brains! and also a big heart.

So why do people laugh at him? Is it because of his hair? T wears the mohawk style in tribute to his ancestors of the Mandinka tribe in Africa. Or maybe it’s his insane amount of gold chains he wears? He wears all the gold to symbolize the chains his ancestors wore as slaves. It takes him 2 hours to put it all on. If you were to ask him how heavy it is, his reply is always “nobody asked my ancestors how heavy THEIR chains were, why ask me now?”

Before his rise to fame, T was the most feared bouncer in Chicago. He then became a professional bodyguard for celebrities. He’s guarded Muhammed Ali, Diana Ross, Steve McQueen and Michael Jackson to name a few. He charged $3,000 a day for his services and his business card read “Next to God, there is no greater protector than I”.

Tough. Damn tough. But I think that’s just his exterior. I’ve been able to show you a different side of this guy and maybe now you even hold a different opinion of him. Imagine how many people in our own lives are like that. Someone you know so well, but in reality, they lead a completely different life from what we believe. Funny isn’t it?

I have this reoccuring dream (yes, I do sleep sometimes) where I’m with my school, and we’re on a field trip. For some reason, my teachers have chosen to take me on a field trip to the top of tallest building in the world. The only thing is, it isn’t finished being built yet. So we get to the top and it’s all scafolding and steel beams that we have to balance oursleves on. I have a terrible fear of heights, but in this dream I always look over the edge to see how high we are. The dream always ends with a friend of mine pushing me off the edge and I wake up before I even begin to fall. Each dream it’s a different friend pushing me off. And it’s no accident either. I can usually see their face and they look like they really want to push me over.

I know this all has to do with my fear of heights, but what am I to do? I could face my fear I suppose. Maybe in my next dream instead of waking up, I’ll come to terms with my fear and actually let myself fall. We’re pretty high up on the building so the fall to the ground would give me ample time to work out my feelings of my phobia, then I could wake up. But what if I don’t work it out in time and I actually hit the ground. Then I’ll be dead. If you die in your dreams do you die in real life? Like in The Matrix? I’d like to get over this fear, but I’d rather not be dead. I have plans with my girlfriend this weekend. How am I going to explain all this to her? I can’t break these plans just because I died in a silly dream. Maybe I’ll save the dream until next week. Or maybe in a couple of weeks for my study break. Or maybe I’ll just stay awake. Damn. I think I have a new fear: going to school. Oh wait, I meant to say ‘Going to Sleep’. That’s right, um, sleep. Not school. Who’s afraid to go to school? Not me. heh.

I was reading through some of the postings and noticed that Sid is a George Carlin fan. This gave me the idea to share with you an idea that has been bothering me for some time now. I’m also a huge Carlin fan, I have most of his shows on CD and I also have his book he wrote a few years ago. In his book he mentions the simple idea of sleep and how we take it for granted that it is actually simple. In his words “For the next several hours, while the sun is gone, I’m going to become unconscious temporarily losing command of everything I know and understand. When the sun returns, I will resume my life.” Very true, but also quite scary. This is his idea, not mine, but I’d like to, if I may, express my feelings on the matter.

“Losing command” That scares the shit out of me. Anyone who knows me, knows that I don’t sleep too often, and this idea isn’t helping one bit. Who knows what happens in those hours when we’re dreaming? I once had a dream that I stood on my bed and actually removed the window above it. When I woke up, the picture that actually hangs above my bed was on the floor. The dream seemed so real, but it WAS real, but at the same time it was just a dream. Nothing I could have done to prevent myself from moving the picture, I was unconscious. It scares me to think of what I’m capable of doing when I’m asleep. And so, I don’t sleep.

I saw a news story once that told of a University student who was sleepwalking. While he was asleep, he left his residence (I think he went to Western in London) drove to Mississauga (1.5 hour drive) to his aunt and uncles house, stabbed his uncle to death, strangled his aunt, then drove home. He woke up while driving back, saw the blood on his hands and drove himself to a police station. I know that consciously, I wouldn’t be able to kill anything. Even subconsciously I feel safe in saying the same. But UNconsciously, can anybody really know what they’re capable of? I wonder who was more frightened, the aunt and uncle, or the student?

I would rather never sleep again, or never wake up again. By never sleeping, there’s no chance of doing any harm to anyone. By never waking up, there’s no chance of taking responsibility for what you did while you were sleeping. Maybe I’m paranoid but so far I’ve been choosing to avoid sleep. Also, when I sleep I think I miss too much.

Howdy,
Being my first entry I’ll keep it to a brief introduction of myself. I am Buck.

That’s brief enough I suppose. For personal info I guess I’ll have to put up a bio page with my ugly mug posted with it. Other than that I think my personality will come through in whatever I write on the site.

Thanks Ryan for letting me do this. I hope I can entertain y’all