So Then I Said…

I’ve always been a talker. Sure I’ll have nothing to say from time to time but usually I’m just sticking my foot in my mouth. Ever since I was a kid I have been longwinded. Rightfully or wrongfully, I have a set of iron lungs that just keep spewing dialogue like I know what I’m saying. It’s been that way for a long time and over the years has been pointed out. It’s a pretty common joke in my life and a genuine sentiment that I enjoy good conversation. Sometimes any conversation is nice too. Well, sometimes.

Typically it’s questioned though if I’m not chatting up a light storm about this or that. Since I’m not one to be too quiet especially when something is wrong. Well again, sometimes. Actually I dated a guy who when breaking up with me said the reason being was that I didn’t talk enough. Which was funny at the time but funnier telling my family and friends about it since the story took about twenty minutes to tell.

Every now and then I look forward to the silence. It’s a pretty busy world out there and we often get lost in the shuffle. At least, I get lost. Even though I’m not sharing my misguided adventure with you that’s all I can think about. Spinning my wheels like I think I’m actually going somewhere. It’s hard to get out of that. It’s hard to interrupt a conversation to collect your thoughts. To slow down and assess the situation to see that oh shit, yeah we’re stuck. To see things as they exist and go oh yeah, we’re still stuck but it’s not so bad because we know we’re stuck. Which doesn’t always mean you’re in the same place time after time. You’re not going anywhere if you’re just spinning your wheels looking for a way out. You’re not saying anything if you keep chasing your thoughts with words.

Something I heard when I was growing up was to “pay attention to your commas.” Take a break and look at what you’re saying, at what you’re doing. Pause for a moment and think about where you want to go with this. Not all sentences make sense, not all paragraphs have substance, and not all thoughts are finished but it all creates a story. It’s all apart of the great book of life that each one of has a chapter in. Maybe I talk too much but that’s the way I am and how I like to be. Chatty and sarcastic with a little bit of sass that masks my insecurity just right.

So as I bustle through, lost and in the mood for conversation, I try to pay attention to my commas because we are after all writing a story.

Stay wild.

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Photo Credit: This is Pretty Wild

 

Deliver to the Penthouse, Please

It’s a typical Wednesday afternoon on a rainy Valley day. The end of the month and the end of another work day. I have a short drive home but it feels like a long commute this time. I pull into the driveway and stagger up the steps – shit, I forgot about dinner. It’s been a long enough day and I could probably go without a meal. Of course, tomorrow’s Thursday and the midweek hurdle’s only just been jumped. So I live on the edge and order pizza. There’s lunch too.

Since I couldn’t go back out into the world, I opted for delivery. From a pizza joint that is a block away but the four dollar fee was an easy compromise not to have to leave the house. It took well over the allotted time for the pizza to be delivered but you can’t be too picky. When the buzzer finally rang I was pretty hungry. Maybe not in the best mood to begin with but nonetheless I just wanted my pizza.

She gets to my fourth floor apartment unit and with a displeased expression tells me it’ll be twice what I’m expecting. I scoff politely and tell her what I think it should be. This displeases her even more so and asks me to meet her downstairs. I’m in my pajamas. I slip my shoes on and head down to meet her while she’s phoning in the problem. I’ll spare you the details but apparently someone over there doesn’t know what they’re doing. Her sentiments, not mine. It continues like this for what seems like a ridiculous amount of time and I’m starting to get a little upset. Almost willing to pay double, almost. Then she starts arguing with the person on the phone about what my toppings were.

It’s dragging on and honestly I feel a little bad. The delivery person is giving the other person a hard time and then says “Y’know that broad on [street]”. Yeah, yeah I order a lot of take out. The lady looks at me and half smiles without kindness. So I shrug and say “Sorry, I have a thing about leaving my house. Otherwise I’d go down the street to get my pizza”. Her whole face softens which surprised me. She says “Oh. Is this outside of your comfort zone?” Referring to me standing halfway out the lobby door. With a straight face I said, “yes.” I mean, it wasn’t a huge stretch. Well, gosh this changed everything. She begins to apologize and reassures me that we can go back inside. Everything will be OK she nods as she pushes me back into the lobby.

I have a normal thing about leaving my house in which at the end of a long day – I don’t want to go any where; but the pizza lady didn’t need to know the details of my particular personality disorder.

We make our way upstairs all the while she’s reassuring me and telling the pizza order taking person what the price will be. She’s really nice about it in a full of pity kind of way. We get back and the bill is more reasonable. She lets me know I can still get delivery any time. Which is nice to know but I think I’ll be picking my food up for a while.

Stay wild & stay home.

 

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Photo Credit: This is Pretty Wild

 

Today’s Reason Why I Dislike: University

Costs. Or rather, hidden costs. There is no cheap alternative to accredited training that I have found. (Please, please correct me on this). $10,000 for 3 months of long-haul training; $5000 for bookkeeping; $9000 for office techniques. Multiply that by 2 or 3 or 4 for the subtotal of any program greater than a certificate. Add living expenses (no pardon me, students only student), supplies, and textbooks to the equation and it doesn’t take a math minor to realize it’s a ridiculously over priced, risky investment.

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Today’s main gripe: One course at my local Canadian university cost 451.55 plus tuition fees at 153.49, roughly totaling 605 dollars. This is a business communications class and if you were to invest in science or math you’re looking closer to the 700-800 dollar mark excluding tuition. Since this is an online course (with in class options available) I decided to save money and not buy a hard copy version of the $120 textbook. Instead, I followed the link provided by my instructor (I don’t think they’re really professors, we’re instructed to watch youtube videos and read the textbook) and purchased an online rental from the publishing site for $65. I was wrong to overlook the source and in doing so I was hit with a currency exchange. That 6 month rental has now cost me $105. For another 20 dollars I would have an actual book in my hands.

That’s pretty much it; the cost of education is unreal even in a dinky, little farm town, wannabe city such as this. When it’s required to have a sanitation ticket to mop floors or when hosting is a certified trade is when education loses its value. I used to envy other countries that not only practiced but also promoted free education. I just want to discover why a sphere is a sphere but not at the same price as my mortgage. Now I see that even though Canadian education isn’t free by any means it is also overly abundant. The thrill of competing in an academic world is fleeting when everyone is an academic. Not that education should be a competition; that is not what I mean. Education (in my uneducated opinion) should be accessible and available to the people who want it. Not for the kid whose parents are paying for a second undergraduate program because you didn’t like the first university you picked. It should not be forced on people either. I love learning but not sitting under fluorescent lights listening to a racist Chinese professor hammer on about the Chinese.

I guess I am having a hard time finding the balance between academia and experience. How are they not one in the same when you are dealing with financial blunders such as these?

 

Stay Wild and stay on budget.

 

Oh, What a Day.. What a Lovely Day

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There’s something about this time of year that, when you get away from the credit card wrist slashing that is the billion dollar industry of retail, is really beautiful. The snowy slush on the windowsill and the sound of cars racing down the street headed to the last open store on a cold, Christmas Eve. This can be the loneliest time of year for some people especially those without a little love in their heart. Although, after watching the news tonight I can understand how hard it is to have that love. Mankind is a really fickle thing – sometimes there is this overwhelming about of faith in it; I want to think the future is better.  At other times, it is mostly harrowing and you cannot really trust the person in front of you.

So on this chilly night as you sit in front of a screen just like me – as if I’d really rather be anywhere else – here are some tales to help restore your faith in humanity.

Merry Christmas from the Wild!

Egypt’s Muslims attend Coptic Christmas mass, serving as “human shields”

Alert pizza delivery driver saves customer’s life

Wrong Number Miracle

Who is the Route 29 Batman? This guy.

A Collection

Share a story that touched your heart this year.
As always Stay Wild and be kind.

 

What a Time to Be Alive

Alright, so the news story was dumb. The news itself was alright but it’s not like you didn’t hear about it through some facet of modern media. There’s access to any piece of information in a matter of seconds. News travels faster than it ever has. We’ve never been more connected to and in touch with our fellow humans than we are today. To put it into perspective, the London Times reported the fall of the Alamo in Texas on May 17th, 1836. It had actually occurred two months earlier on March 6th, 1836.

One a noon news show there’s possibility to witness news stories turn devastating on live TV. Some more comical like the bank being robbed again or any time any one swears. We can take part in great adventures like the skydiving son’s Skype call. We are able to reach out to people across the planet who need what we are able to offer and we get something from them in return. It’s amazing how information travels and what humans do with it. Some are better than others with it, like all the people who sent cards and puzzle to a fellow Internet nerd who needed it. It is remarkable that I can buy a product while I sit on my couch watching Bonanza or while I sit on the city bus headed to the job I need to pay off the credit card I just bought the product on. Oh but then, my purchased product is immediately confirmed and I’m emailed a receipt.

That’s not even the half of it; you can date, drive, and dine all through forms of media. I’m talking Tinder, Uber, and UrbnSpoon to drop a few names and these are only a few. Nowadays, you are able to find any means of any entertainment through some device. Netflix streaming through any console makes it really easy to not use any of three previously mentioned devices. Social media is (social media are?) such a brilliant tool (created by the US government but nonetheless) and if used correctly (and not censored, propagated, or dictated) it can reveal many wonders of this crazy world. For instance, I just took a drip through Manitoba thanks to Google Maps and had a look at the first bank in Nova Scotia. Honestly, it’s just more and more motivating to stay indoors.

There’s no point in this at least not one in particular. There is so much happening in the world it’s hard to keep track of and I don’t mean that in a defensive “you know something I don’t” way. I just find it difficult to stay on top of the latest trends of any kind. I still wear my ratty rain boots from ten years ago. They are not waterproof, by the way.