A Rant About Pop Culture Glorifying Serious Issues

Currently, I am in the midst of National Novel Writing Month where participants attempt to scribe a 50,000-word novel within the 30 days of November. As a side project, I am also keeping a journal of my thoughts throughout the month. Below is an entry I just completed for this journal. -- D_H

7:22 p.m. – Tonight’s agenda: bask in hitting 40,000 words in 10 days, suffer indigestion from leftover pasta, and bitch about a local television station broadcasting a movie pertaining to a franchise that is the bane of all existence.

As I was watching the 6 o’clock news on the aforementioned channel – as I like to do on weeknights – I witnessed a commercial that could pretty much explain why I have a sudden urge to regurgitate my dinner. The commercial was for the station’s broadcast premiere of the first movie in that novel series about the sparkly vampires.

Now, I have nothing against movie adaptations of novels. Many of those within the TONaNo community are die-hard fans of that novel series about “the boy who lived” wizard. However, when it comes to the work of one Stephenie Meyer, the concept that people would be so interested in such emo crap is completely foreign to me. Then again, the whole notion of Justin Bieber’s existence and all of his “Beliebers” is something that should be killed with fire too. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Beliebers are some of these “Twi-tards” as well. Personally, I would prefer if they would blow hard on my cock, but since most of them are minors, and the whole scandal at Penn State fresh in everyone’s mind, I really refrain from making such a suggestion.

Nevertheless, I just find all of this fascination about sparkly vampires, werewolves, a suicidal brunette and all of this emo and angst to be unnecessary. Does that make me hypocrite for preferring all of the fans of the boy wizard genre over this malarkey? Most likely it does. But the way I figure, Meyer’s novel series almost glorifies teen angst to levels that makes depression and suicide – plot points in her series – socially acceptable. I hate to break it to you, Miss Stephenie, but trying to cash in on the dark depths of mental illness is not acceptable to yours truly. Depression and suicide are very serious matters and require for some dialogue between the sufferer and a friend, parent, or licensed professional. You are glorifying an issue that affects people of all ages.

I guess my anger about the matter stems from the fact that when I was a young adult, I’ve contemplated committing suicide myself. I was lost, confused, and fearful of what lied ahead in my near future, so I thought about overdosing on prescription medication and doing what I felt at the time was “the world a big favour.” But the fact of the matter is I soon realized all of those I would leave behind should I no longer be amongst the living. There was my family, especially my grandmother, and what few friends I did have. They would be the ones who would have no other option but to pick up the pieces of what was left of my shattered life. It was an ordeal I could not allow them to handle.

Also, looking back in the twenty years that have come and gone since I experienced those feelings of distraught, I realize all of the things I wouldn’t have accomplished during that span. I wouldn’t have graduated from college. I wouldn’t have been a champion swimmer or a former Canadian record holder; my classification for the 800-metre freestyle, if you’re trying to look it up. I wouldn’t have been engaged once; although, I will admit we rushed into that – I’ve learned from my mistake there. And most importantly of all in the present day: I would not be the crazy writer that I am, and I would not have Amy in my life.

It is because of all of that I am thankful I am still alive and kicking today. Stephenie Meyer might have utilized the emotional pain many teens and young adults suffer as a way to sell books and movies. But for this writer who has endured his share in his life, trying to cash in on that mental anguish is an insult to me and all of those who struggle with depression and mental health issues every single day. Think about that the next time you go to the theatres next week to see the movie based on the first half of her fourth novel.

Rant: Suffering from Election Burnout

Somebody stop the campaign bus, I want to get off. Actually, not only do I want to hop off the bus, I want to set the damn thing on fire.

Tomorrow, those of us living in Ontario are set to go to the polls to elect our new provincial government. To say that I've had enough of all of this voting is an understatement.

Allow me to explain: last October, Toronto residents were sent to the ballot box to elect a new municipal government. As a result, we ended up electing the hack-and-slash, Jabba the Hutt wannabe, Rob Ford who's administration is now planning on decimating city services to balance the upcoming budget. Had I known things like libraries, the TTC, and the Toronto Police were about to become former shells of themselves, I'd have voted for George Smitherman instead.

Fast forward a few months later, and the yahoos up on Parliament Hill told us to vote for another new federal government; the sixth one in the past seven years. Granted, this time around Canadians voted for a majority; however, considering that Stephen Harper's Conservatives won and are currently pushing through Bill C-32 where the online privacy of Canadians is at risk, I'm not too thrilled with this possible Big Brother philosophy. And should the Feds be reading this or hacking into my computer, the stash of porn and lifted copyrighted pictures of celebrities on here are my roommate's. We just happen to share the same computer.

Which brings us to tomorrow when the residents of Ontario will be deciding who gets sent to Queen's Park. For those keeping score, that's three elections within the past twelve months. Sure, they've all been for different levels of government, but quite frankly, I've been exhausted with all of the campaigning, the mudslinging TV ads, and the phone calls canvassing for my support. And since we're on the topic of those phone calls, I've got something to get off my chest.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but since we live in a democratic society, isn't one of the benefits is voting via a secret ballot? That means, who I decide to be my next elected official is my choice and is between myself and the slip of paper I mark down anonymously. Then, why in the bluest of blue hells are all of these candidates' offices cold calling prospective voters and asking who they've decided to vote for, if anyone at all? The biggest culprit of this is the offices for my local Liberal candidte, who also happens to be the incumbant. Do they really want to know ahead of time? And, if I had admitted that I had already made up my mind and it was not them, would they be do a hard sell in an attempt to pursuade me to change my vote? I'll admit I can be swayed from time to time, but anyone who knows me knows I do not appreciate things being shoved down my throat. I lied to the caller and said that I was undecided; since then, the calls by this candidate's office hasn't stopped. Tomorrow, my voice will be heard, and whether or not I vote for this person is my choice. If they can't deal with it, then that's their damn luck.

The only problem is, early speculation has this election resulting in a minority government. If what the previous seven years in Ottawa have been any indication, the elected Opposition will sabotage the newly formed government partway into their mandate with one of these "non-confidence" votes and we'll be going through all of this bullshit all over again. I'm just sick and tired of all of these elections, and I'd at least like to have a breather for a while.

I have made up my mind, and on October 6th I plan to vote for... the Leafs and Canadiens on CBC at 7 p.m.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but no one better get between me and hockey.

Flash Fiction Friday: Tale of a Black-Painted Bench

Backstory: I was surfing one of the online Forums I'm a member of earlier this week, and a reporter for OpenFile - Hamilton put out an open call for season ticket holders of the Hamilton Tiger-Cats to submit their stories and memories of their seats at Ivor Wynne Stadium. Just for a larf, I wrote a yarn about how I became a season seat holder in my section. The reporter liked it so much, he interviewed me for the article. The article on their website can be found at: http://hamilton.openfile.ca/hamilton/file/2011/07/grandmothers-spark-passion-football, but I'd like to share the short story I wrote that netted the interview.

--

Have you ever wondered what stories the benches at Ivor Wynne would tell if they could talk? This is the tale an aisle seat in the lower half of section 22 would spin...

"Do you remember that old movie and TV series, 'The Odd Couple'? It was about two roommates; one was neat, the other was messy. Well, I'm one half of an Odd Couple of a different sort.

"I have seen many people come and go over the years, but my yarn goes back to 2008. *sigh* I remember like it was yesterday. It started at the home opener that season against Montréal. The normal people who frequent around me had returned to their usual roost; however, I was bestowed the honour of having two new people sit on me and the spot beside me. These two were unlike any other. They had purchased flex packs that season and I would see them 4 more times during that 2008 campaign, but what made them unique was they were attending a Hamilton-Montréal game; yet, at the time, they were not only season ticket holders for our much despised rivals down the Queen Elizabeth Way, but residents of the eastern stretches of that same burg.

"The buzz I heard was these two people were upset with the perceived notion that those said rivals had 'rolled over and played dead' when a team from a different pro football league decided to expand their territory and claim the rival's stadium as a sporadic home. Nevertheless, these two were willing to make the 2 hour trek on the GO Train and Bus to Hamilton to cheer on what would become their new 'home' team.

"The next year, the guy in the seat beside me would relocate to a more cost-effective locale in section 30, but the one in my perch would remain and upgraded his seats to the full season; where he has remained since. This is his 3rd year as a full-season seat holder, and those other fans around him have welcomed him with open arms; almost as if he's one of the regulars. Sure, he's missed the odd game whether it be to financial hardships or, in the case of the pre-season game this year, feeling under the weather, but I've grown accustomed to the big 6'3" lug who lives 55 miles away. That's why it always brings a smile to my face whenever I see that black #71 jersey with the name 'Dief' on the back lumber down the stairs to take his place amongst the avid Ti-Cat supporters.

"They'll be tearing the place down in a couple of years and building it back up anew. I don't know how I will be reconstructed during that project, but until that day comes, I will cherish the moments I have with 'Dief' with a solomn hope and prayer that when I'm back after my makeover, the two of us will be reunited once more."

-- Douglas J. McLeod, 2011

A Black Eye on The Wet Coast

Well, I was enjoying the sabbatical while it lasted. Leave it to all hell breaking loose on the Lower Mainland to rouse me from this hibernation.

So, here I was yesterday, prepping for what was bound to be a momentous Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final between the Vancouver Canucks and the Boston Bruins. While I was hoping for Lord Stanley's Mug making a triumphant return to north of the 49th for the first time in 18 years, in the back of my mind -- with memories of how bad the 'Nucks crapped the bed in Game 6 fresh in there -- I wondered if the Bruins would pull off an upset. Further fueled by my speculation were the news reports I had heard in the 2 days leading up to last night's contest of the nasty riots that transpired the last time Vancouver was in a Game 7 Cup Final back in 1994 when the 'Nucks lost to the Mark Messier-led New York Rangers. Jovially, I made a comment on Facebook to one of my friends, a Vancouver-area resident to the effect of "If the 'Nucks lose, we riot." Rightfully so, I was admonished at the time for such a tasteless quip. Unfortunately, little did I realize at the time that my premonition would become a reality.

As the game drew on and the Bruins were putting the puck behind Roberto Luongo, I was taking to my Twitter and lobbing pot shots at the lackluster performance by the homeside. Prime examples included: equating the performance of the Sedin twins -- back to back scoring title winners -- to the non-existence of LeBron James in the recent NBA Finals, and pretty much insinuating that the only reason Luongo won the Olympic gold medal 15+ months earlier was because Sidney Crosby bailed him out in overtime. The Bruins would end up winning the game by a final score of 4-0, and Tim Thomas -- the Boston netminder who backstopped the game deciding shutout -- would earn the Conn Smythe Trophy for playoff MVP. Once the hardware was being passed out, my concerns about some of the perturbed fan base that had gathered in the public viewing locales in downtown Vancouver were escalating. Would the scene turn ugly like it had 17 years prior? I think when most people watched the news late last night or early this morning know the unfortunate answer to that.

Now, I can understand people being upset over such an utter collapse. Hell, I probably would be too if I was more invested in the Canucks. But the thing that gets me is the sheer recklessness and irresponsibility of these wannabe anarchist hooligans. And yes, I'm calling them as such. Sure, they might object, but seriously, what true fan would show up to a public gathering to watch a sporting event with balaclavas in their gear? These weren't hockey fans; these were the same disenchanted youth and troublemakers you would find as part of those Black Bloc groups that cause mayhem and destruction at world summits. Need I flashback to the carnage that transpired in Toronto during the G-20 Summit back in June 2010? This was a page right out of it. I mean, seriously? Trashing and looting a drug store. There was live television footage of people swiping canisters of Pringles. I'm not kidding -- FREAKIN' PRINGLES?!? Are these looters residents of East Hastings and got a sudden case of the munchies? Or what's worse: these idiots take to social media, like Facebook to brag about their part in the madness. Hey, Earth to Klingons flying around Uranus, Vancouver's finest have been turning to these sites to help bust your dumb asses. Are these dopes so strung out on... well, dope... to realize that they're leading to their own demise? In the words of Oscar from Corner Gas, "Jackass!"

The disheartening thing I find about this whole matter was that these were the same streets where joyous fans celebrated Men's hockey gold back in February 2010; which begs me to question: Had Sidney Crosby not scored that winner 7 minutes and 40 seconds into the first overtime, and someone on the U.S. squad had netted that eventual "Golden goal", would we have seen a similar scene with the eyes of the world focused on us like we did last night? We were fortunate not to have suffered a black eye then, but because of the events of the past 24 hours, we just delayed it until now.

The clean-up of downtown Vancouver is already underway. I just hope there is a way for one of the world's most livable cities to get it's rep back.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but the actions of a select few last night make me ashamed to be a Canadian.

Days 47 thru 51... Won in Overtime

"I look up to the sky

And now the World is mine

I've known it all my life

I made it, I made it"

-- "I Made It" by Kevin Rudolf

I guess I liked doing my Lent challenge so much, I decided to continue doing it until I finished Script Frenzy; which I just did about an hour ago.

To say the past seven and a half weeks didn't have it's ups and downs goes without saying. Some people thought I wouldn't be able to last 47 days without gambling. Others said there was no way I could write 13 TV scripts within 30 days. Now, here it is, the afternoon of April 28th, and I can proudly say that not only have I accomplished both feats, I've done them beyond the initial expectations: 51 days without buying a lotto product, and 312 pages of script written in just four weeks.

I'll admit, I've had my weaknesses; whether it be battling the temptation to cave and buy one instant lottery ticket, or getting up in the morning and not feeling like writing. And while there was a couple days where my muse decided to take a day off during those four weeks, I kept at it. Staying true to my word, putting my head down, and writing like the wind.

It didn't help matters when thanks to the Amazon Web Services outage last week that my muse thought it was a good time to make a run for it. Had it been successful in its escape, I probably would have a lot of time on my hands, and left myself open to a possible relapse. But I was able to corral it and reharness my will and drive to push forth on both my tasks.

So here it is, I now have a clearer conscience about myself, and a distinct glow of accomplishment. To celebrate my current milestone, I'm currently sipping on a pint of my favourite beer, Moosehead Lager -- which I'm hoping to finish and dispose the evidence before my roommate comes home. Next up on my agenda is the so-called "Wrap Party" taking place Sunday night at a bistro downtown. It'll be nice to see everyone again. I didn't get much of a chance to socialize; only attending two writing sessions during the month. But then again, when you're trying to write over 300 pages in 30 days, hanging out with friends isn't high on your list of priorities. Hmmm, maybe that's why some folks think I'm "creepy."

Anyway, thank you everyone for joining me on this crazy ride that's spanned nearly two months. Your support has been a blessing through every step of the way. You guys and gals are the best.

Until next time (whenever that is), the views may be from the outside, but now I'm going to enjoy this beer and totally relax.

Days 44, 45, 46, and part of 47... The Final Metres

If I was a horse at the Kentucky Derby right now, I'd be hearing the famous words, "And down the stretch they come!"

As I pen this, there is about 9 hours left on Easter Sunday. Day 47 is finally here, and I've taken a break from script writing and playoff hockey watching to reflect on the past few days.

I was in a near panic the past few days when the website for Script Frenzy went down; a victim of the Amazon Web Services Cloud outage this weekend. Now, most people would find that somewhat aggravating that they wouldn't be able to hop onto FourSquare or any other site that would be affected by the outage. However, for someone who has some OCD tendencies, like I apparently seem to experience, the inability to update my page count and see how I'm fairing against others was nerve-wracking.

It got so bad that I actually took all of Friday and a good chunk of Saturday off from writing; fearing that I had lost the will to scribe the final 72 pages I was hoping to pen before the end of the month. But fear not, blog follower. I actually hauled out my pen and notepad and started to jot away dialogue while watching Game 5 of the Boston vs. Montreal series; a game that ended up going into double overtime. By the time I finished my handscratches and typed them out onto the computer, I had written 7/12 of the 11th episode of my "season". I was getting back into the groove again. I just finished hammering out the balance of the episode earlier this afternoon. And now have just 2 more episodes, or 48 pages to pen within the next 6 days. To paraphrase Constable Benton Fraser, "I can do this. I am a Screnzy-ist."

I just have to learn to stay clear of watching televised poker during my downtimes. I found out once while watching it, my itch was starting to come back. But I held true to my word. I changed the channel, cracked open a 710 mL (25 oz.) bottle of Diet Coke, and plotted my next episode's course in my head. Sometimes a good writer needs to chart a better course while he has some basic idea of navigation.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but Game 6 of Philadelphia vs. Buffalo is about to come on. I don't want to miss that. Go Sabres!

Days 41, 42 & 43... Complaining About the Weather

If there's one thing I don't like about this time of year, it's the unpredicatability of the weather.

Now, I know that early spring in Toronto can get somewhat crazy weather-wise, but this past week has been off the charts on the ludicrous scale. I mean, dull and dreary days in mid-April go without saying, but that's usually attributed to a reasonable amount of rainfall. This is not the case this year.

For the past few days, it has been unseasonably cold, and I kid you not, there has been actual snow flurries at this time of the year. Snow, on April 17th.. I liked the sight of it at first, but when there were a few scattered flakes during the couple of days afterwards, I found it rather much.

The weather forecasting professionals attribute this to the La Nina effect that's going on in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Ecuador. That's where the cool waters have an adverse reaction on the weather in my part of the world. I just find it rather unwelcome and wish for Mother Nature to bring Spring back to where it rightfully belongs.

They do say the temperatures are going to start heading back to normal over the next week, but I just wish they could put Old Man Winter to rest for good this year; at least until late November when it's time for the Santa Claus Parade. That'll be the optimal time for the cold and snow to return.

But for the time being, I'll just stay curled up in my apartment and drink a nice hot cup of tea; wishing for sunny days, green grass, and spending a Sunday afternoon watching a ball game at Christie Pits.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but only 4 more days til I've successfully completed my Lent challenge.

Days 39 & 40... Entering The Home Stretch

40 days... I can't believe it's been that long already.

I was checking the calendar earlier today and when I saw what today was, I was surprised to learn that I've been able to stick it out for this long.

It was on Wednesday, March 9th that I began this quest during Lent where I vowed to give up gambling, specifically lottery product purchases for the nearly 7 week duration. And now here it is, Monday, April 18th (well, its Monday when I'm writing this for Sunday) : forty days down, seven more to go.

To say I haven't had my ups and downs so far on this road is an understatement. It's not easy for someone who's addicted to something to quit cold turkey. There's always the occasional urge to relapse by saying, "I just need one more hit. One hit won't hurt me." But the fact of the matter is, if you do take that one hit, you run the risk of returning to your old ways. Fortunately for me, I have ignored those voices for almost six weeks now. Sure, there's been the odd call out, but I've stayed on the straight and narrow.

Now here it is, one more week; just one more week, and I can finally say I've stayed true to my word. Now, I'm not saying that when Easter is over and done with I'll revert back to my old ways. Lord knows I've thought about it. But I am hoping to do it in a more controlled manner than I did before; limiting myself to just one sports parlay lotto ticket a week, if I even feel like plunking down the four dollars or so that week.

One thing is for certain, I can say I've accomplished quite a bit in battling my demons so far. Now, it's up to me to finish the job for this one final week.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I've also set a personal best for script writing: 206 pages in 17 days. I think I've earned a day off today.

Day 38... New Venue Writing

While a change of scenery can be good for creative juices, trekking to where you've never been before can be more inspiring.

I've previously talked about writing at a different venue previously. However, today I did something different: I went out to write at a place I've never written before. Allow me to explain, I decided to venture out from my abode to write in a library tonight. But I didn't want to write at the ones I'm familiar with; whether it be the one a mile up the street, or the one four miles away.

No, this time I wanted to write at a library that I had never been to before. A library that was massively spacious, and ontop of all else, a library I don't recall ever venturing into before. Tonight, I found such a place. The only thing is, this place was thirteen and a half miles (21.7 km) northwest of my apartment.

The library I speak of is the North York Central Library, located beside the former North York Municipal Offices; just off of Yonge Street between Sheppard and Finch. The place is massive; sporting 6 floors of books and reference material -- one floor, its basement, entirely designated a study area. Upon seeing it I thought, "This would be a perfect place for some quiet, power writing." There was only one slight problem: trying to find a seat in this mammoth book depository.

Sure, I could have parked myself on the Study Area basement, but I thought it might be a smidge too noisy for my liking. So I decided to check all of the other floors, and check I did; climbing flights of stairs in the process. I was able to find an available desk up on the fifth floor. Upon arriving at my spot, I noticed a distinct silence around me. To me, it felt like pure serenity; the optimal environment to toil away on what's now the eighth episode of my sitcom.

I took my seat, pulled out my notepad and pen and started writing like the wind. Line after line of dialogue went from my brain onto the pages. By the time I was finished, I had amassed 1-1/2 sheets of handwritten script scratching; which I would type out in Celtx on my computer at home later. When typed out, it translated into seven formatted pages. Not bad work for an hour's time in the library, if I do say so myself.

I think I'll have to make a note of this venue in the future. This could rival the Toronto Reference Library at Yonge and Bloor for spacious serentity to accomplish some serious writing.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but now I gotta find a hiding place for my roommate's birthday gift. It's not for another week, but I got it while I was out tonight.

Days 35, 36, & 37... @#$% Microsoft!

Oh dear.. another 3 day lull in between posts. This is not good. I need to pick up the pace. Although, my posting lackness can be attributed to something.

About a week or so ago, I updated to the new Microsoft Internet Explorer 9. I know some people rag on Microsoft products, but I tend to have a certain level of familiarity to them. So when I found out the update was available to the general public, I downloaded and installed it. It had a different look and feel to it, but it still did the job at surfing the web and allowing me to post on all of my social feeds... all of them except one.

When I attempted to do my first blog entry in IE9, I ran into a slight problem: it wouldn't allow me to publish my posts. I could still type them out and save drafts of them, but every time I clicked on the "Publish Post" button, I would get no response. No refreshing of the screen to tell me that my entry had been successfully published. This was a problem that would begin to frustrate me.

I wracked my brain over ways to get around this glitch. Downloading and installing Firefox would be a solution most people would suggest, but I didn't want to fumble around with installing additional plug-ins for something I would only use sporadically. That's when it came to me: when I downloaded the latest version of iTunes, the people at Apple roped me into downloading their web browser, Safari 5 along with it.

So I fired it up, fumbled my way around to getting my blog hosting site into my Bookmarks on there, and attempted to write my first post using Apple's browser. To my luck, I was successful, and I've been using it to make my postings on here ever since. The only problem is, I usually forget that I have to fire Safari up to make my musings public, so I complete space and neglect writing them up in the first place. Maybe I should reorganize my desktop so I can have the shortcut to Safari more predominantly visible as a reminder of me to keep you guys up to date on me.

At least it's still keeping me away from the overall temptation of "you know what."

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but now I have the urge to sink my teeth into a nice crispy Ida Red.

Days 32, 33, & 34... Art Imitating Life

My apologies, dear readers, for the lack of an update the past three days. I've been occupied with working on my Script Frenzy project recently to the point where I've neglected to keep you all posted on my progress. My bad.

So, what's been going on with me this past weekend? Well, I've been taking a little time out for me where my roommate and I attended a hockey game on Saturday afternoon. We witnessed the Toronto Marlies, the minor league affiliate of the hometown pro squad, the Maple Leafs -- who missed the playoffs again for the seventh straight year (if you include the year of the lockout) -- defeat the Rochester Amercians, the farm club of the Florida Panthers, by a final score of 6-5. I had to laugh over the game because my roommate and I decided to be a couple of trolls and went to the match-up wearing the Americans' merchandise we picked up when we were in Rochester last February for a lacrosse game between the Toronto Rock and the Rochester Knighthawks. We were getting a few cat calls from the Marlies' fans and even had a bit of jovial rapport with the Marlies' mascot, "Duke" the Dog; even doing a bit where we were being escorted out of the arena with him. It was all in good fun, and we both enjoyed ourselves.

Otherwise, I've been logging the pages for my April writing challenge. I was going to work on the fifth episode where I hit a roadblock in my creative thinking. The episode involves one of the main character's trying to deal with the brother of the other main character. The brother does not get along with main character #2 and his dad, and main character #1 believes he couldn't be all that bad. You can pretty much surmise what happens next. However, as I was plugging away at the Teaser (the lead-in segment to the episode), I didn't know how I wanted it to progress. I was concerned about giving away too much too early and didn't know how to approach it. So instead, I decided to skip ahead and try my luck at writing the planned sixth episode.

Now, those who remember me saying in an entry earlier this past week, this was the episode that was the most personal and current to me. For those who need a quick refresher, in this episode, main character #1 was battling a gambling problem and was using it as an escape from other issues he had. As you all know, I'm currently (and still) in the midst of my Lent project where I'm abstaining from gambling for the 47-day "Holy Fasting" period. My mission in this episode is to spin my Lent challenge into a topic for this one character. The only differences being, the character's abstinence challenge would be for a 31-day period instead of 47, and if the character was successful, main character #2 would treat him to a weekend in Niagara Falls. For the record, I have not established any type of tangible reward for the successful completion of my Lent challenge; just a clearer conscience that I really don't need to use gambling as an emotional crutch. However, one of my friends has offered me a proposition once both my Lent and writing challenges are over, but that's for entirely different reasons. The purpose of this proposition, I'm not willing to divulge; however, I will do my best to provide pictures once all of this is said and done.

After all, I have to keep you guys and gals posted. :D

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I'm all out of frozen yogurt. *sad face* I'll need to top up my supplies tomorrow.

Days 30 & 31.. Finding Balance with Family

One of the most important support circles anyone can have when they are participating in a personal challenge is their own family. The love and support they provide can go a long way during the voyage across the rough seas one encounters during their trek.

I experience this myself this past Thursday night when I was invited down to my great aunt's place for dinner. My aunt from Peterborough came down for a couple of days and the three of us got together to help celebrate my great aunt's birthday.

As a gift, I bought her 100 grams (approx. 3.5 ounces) of a black tea that combined peppermint, chocolate, vanilla and peppercorns with it. Since it was a loose-leaf tea, I also bought her a mesh tea ball to help steep her new tea. I also loaned her the proof copy of the mini-memoir I wrote for National Novel Writing Month last November so she could read it. I did warn her that it was some of the most raw writing I had ever done; plus I wasn't really of sound mind when I scribed it. I told my aunts that I did it as a personal journal detailing my struggle overcoming some personal issues I was enduring at the time. While not discounting the battle I'm waging with my gambling addiction for Lent, the problems I was dealing with five months ago were more taxing on my psyche than I am now.

The dinner was lovely and they thoroughly enjoyed the tea; which we decided to make a pot of that night to try, as I had never sampled that particular blend before. I read the epilogue of my memoir for them and fielded some queries my great aunt had about my struggle. My aunts commended me for overcoming the hardships I endured then and the Lent challenge I'm partaking in currently.

As I enjoyed the evening away from my apartment, I came to realize that while I admit I don't spend much time with my family, as the majority of us are strewn miles apart, the times when we do get together are some of the most serene and rewarding times one could share. I should make an effort to spend more time with them; at least my great aunt who resides the closest to me of them all. I think I'll make an effort to do so once my script writing endeavours quiet down come the end of the month. Because without one's family, a spirit has no nurturing to gain over the long haul.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I need a breather from the writing storm I've experienced the past 8 days. Phew!

Day 29... Neutral Site Writing

Sometimes a writer is able to think and scribe more freely when they're away from home. While it may work for some, others prefer the commonness of their own home. I like to play on both sides of the fence in this quandary.

One of the things I like about the writing challenges that are National Novel Writing Month and Script Frenzy is that along the way, people organize write-in sessions that enable participants to get out of the stuffy confines of their abodes and type or scribble away in a social setting. While the notion of scribing away with others who have also taken on the similar challenge is a noble one, sometimes the sessions can be a bit of a distraction for those who know they need to write, but get sidetracked by social antics of conversation and checking out crazy websites others stumble upon when they're taking a break. Now, I'm not disrespecting the whole spirit of these social writing gatherings; they're community building and help build friendships. However, there are times when a person still wants to get out and write away from home, but wants to do so without social distractions. This is what I ended up doing today.

When I was mulling around my apartment, knowing that I had to forge ahead on my script writing, I felt a certain malaise. I felt like I could not concentrate by sitting by the computer and trying to hammer out numerous pages for yet another day. There had been a writing session originally slated for this evening, but due to unforseen circumstances, the organizer cancelled it. I still needed to get out and scribe. So, I stuffed my spiral notebook and pen into my knapsack and took off from the stuffy confines of my 12th floor residence for a place where I could sit and jot out lines of dialogue to help make progression that I would later type out for my scripts.

Most of you are wondering, "Dief, why are you taking a notebook and pen? Don't you own a laptop?" The truth of the matter is, I don't. The only computer I own.. well, actually co-own with my roommate.. is the desktop I'm typing this blog entry on as we speak. While it does serve its purpose, it's not really easy to lug around on the buses. Ideally, I would like to buy a netbook someday for writing away from home, but that's not really in the cards currently. Therefore, when I'm out and about, and I have the urge to scribe, the notebook -- which I admit is starting to fall apart from all of its wear and tear since last year -- and a supply of pens are my tools of the trade. It might be crude tools, but they help get the job done.

So I struck out from my apartment on a feasible venue to relax and jot away lines from the scenes I'm painting with my words. I was thinking of turning to a library for my refuge, but I was debating which one. The one closest to me, about a mile (1.6 km) up the road from where I live had reopened last December; however, it was also across the street from a high school, and with the time of day that it was, it would soon be invaded by students who had just gotten out of class for the day. It would've caused quite a bit of commotion that would end up being a distraction to my flow of thought. And since I wanted to get a fair bit done, disruptions would not be kosher.

I pondered other library locales that could possibly hold this impromptu private writing session, and I came with my solution: a different district library branch that was still easy to get to, but didn't have the potential of noisy secondary school students invading my safe haven. So, I headed out and made my way to the branch, roughly 4 miles (6.5 km) southwest of my residence, to find some creative inspiration. During my trek to and from the library, I had to change buses at the closest subway station, and there happens to be a lottery retailer on the bus concourse. Remembering my vow of abstinence, I ignored the call to give into temptation and make my transfer without any weakness.

I arrived at the library and staked out a desk so I could sit and write. There was a distraction from one of the adjacent learning rooms to where I was stationed, but they were mostly adults who were being educated on how to build a resume. A minor inconvenience, but at least it wasn't a bunch of unruly kids that were causing the ruckas. I took out my notebook and pen and started to write, and write I did. I quickly jotted down lines of dialogue and camera directions at a swift pace. By the time I had my fill, an hour had passed and I had scribbled down 1-1/2 sheets of paper with my notes; which I eventually typed out to entail 3 scenes totaling 7 pages worth of script when I got home. As a reward for my scribbling, I packed up my gear and walked over to a Tim Hortons not far from the library and treated myself to a muffin and a small fruit smoothie. It wasn't much, but I felt like I deserved it. Later in the evening, I formulated more ideas to fill out the balance of my script and by the time 10:15 p.m. rolled around, I had completed the 3rd episode of my sitcom.

It just goes to show you that sometimes getting out for some air and a change of scenery can do a creative mind good.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I'm still blazing a writing trail this month.

Day 27 & 28.. Four Weeks In and Still Strong

I'm not sure if it's because WrestleMania was this past weekend and seeing Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson in the ring cutting promos again is the reason I'm thinking this, but I have a sudden urge to channel my inner "Great One" and address the couples (and couples) of "The Dief"'s fans in a similar fashion. However, I realize that would result in me talking smack about someone, and that's not the intent of these progress journal entries. The goal is to inspire and provide insight to my personal journey; not bad mouth anyone or anything -- save for the foul tempter that I'm battling.

So here it is, 4 weeks since I started out on this quest to better myself by kicking a bad habit cold turkey and to be honest, I'm feeling great. I'm not as tense or always worrying about trying to find forms of sinful entertainment that would take a significant ding out of my bank account. Of course, the fact that I'm deeply entrenched in Script Frenzy can also take credit for keeping my mind off of the so-called "scratches that need itching." However, there is one episode (I'm attempting to write a 13-episode TV sitcom) that will be quite interesting to tackle.

In the episode -- slated to be the 6th of the 13 -- one of the main characters is having his divorce finalized and his co-worker/buddy/roommate will be helping him re-evaluate his financial habits so he can have more money in the long run. Sound familiar? Granted, it will be a more humourous look into a real-life storyline, but with some added elements thrown into the fray. I just hope that when I do start writing it, I don't start having withdrawal symptoms and end up having a relapse. I've worked so hard for this long, and I don't want this episode to be the start of me throwing my Lent progress all away. This will be a rather interesting script to pen. Given the pace I'm at now, that will start being written sometime next week. I'll keep everyone posted on how it goes.

Otherwise, I'm continuing to toil away on my 3rd and 4th episode scripts. What I've been doing to give it a more musical feel is giving the episodes titles of songs by Canadian artists. So, for the 3rd episode, I've branded it with the title of Alanis Morissette's most famous song, "You Oughta Know", and in it the main characters are representing the radio station they work for here in Toronto at a concert, but end up losing their ID badges en route to the show. In the fourth script, entitled "Sweet Surrender" -- a ditty by my favourite artist, Sarah McLachlan -- one of the two main characters is asked out on a date by one of the women who works at the coffee shop he and his co-worker frequent; which is alright, but this woman is a borderline stalker that's obsessed with him. These are just two of the episodes I plan on writing between now and the end of the month. So I'm hoping I can be entertaining as entertaining with them as I hope I've been entertaining with you, the reader, of these progress reports.

And to those who have been providing words of encouragement along the way on both endeavours, thank you all. Your words are inspirational to me and help me drive forth to be the best I can be in both projects.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but the writing is helping this crazy guy enjoy what he loves to do... "if you smelllllllllllllllllll what The Dief is cookin'."

Day 25 & 26.. *Put Title Here*

You know what's funny? I've noticed my writing quality tends to fluctuate depending on my focus and passion on a certain subject.

I think this is attributed to the fact that if I'm really into something, I want to tell everybody about it to show how much I think such and such a thing is really cool. However, if I don't feel like my heart is in it, my musings showcase my malaise about the matter. I guess that's why right now I'm so excited and really engrossed into Script Frenzy because it's still relatively fresh in my mind and I want to get as much done within in as possible. However, there is a flip side to being completely wrapped up in this; that being my status updates during Lent might begin to suffer.

They say males aren't as efficient multitaskers as women, and based on my personal experience, I am inclined to agree with that presumption. Granted, I try to juggle things and I do the best that I can, but usually something ends up faltering in the process. If I end up excelling in my script writing, these entries might end up being lackluster. If I try to keep my Lent progress postings strong, then the episodes I'm attempting to scribe could be subpar. It's a delicate balance to make sure both remain strong and not end up disappointing my audience; which currently is those people who reads them -- like you are right now.

I'll admit I'm probably not of the best writers out there, but I like to think I make a reasonable effort in my attempt. People read because they want to be informed (in the case of news or research) or entertained. I hope to accomplish both by doing these updates: informing everyone about my progress to better myself, yet doing it in a fun and occasionally humourous manner that is entertaining to you, the reader. I know my audience is limited, but if I'm the type of guy who has the mentality where if I can put a smile on someone's face by the things I do and/or say, then I find that as a "mission accomplished." I hope I'm able to that with this.

I don't know. I guess I have a self-image problem; I'm my own worst critic. I'm probably also tired right now and I'm rambling at a level of near incoherence, so the quality of this musing might be below average. If this is the case, please forgive me. But regardless of whatever the circumstances, I'm still doing the best that I can.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I think my brain's numb from watching a four-hour pay-per-view event currently.

Day 23 & 24... Let's Get Frenzied!

Note to self: While getting a jump on a month-long writing challenge, do not do so by consuming two different kinds of tea - one with coffee extracts, the other with peppermint.

Yes, it's one of my favourite times of the year. The time for me to truly ram the spigot into the sugar maple of my creativity and let the sap flow freely. As of about 15 hours ago here in Toronto, the April writing challenge known as "Script Frenzy" has commenced. It is a period where I can delve into the depths of my mind and let ideas come to live on the page. Sure, writing novels is pretty cool to do every November, but it is in April where an aspiring writer's thoughts and dreams of their work start to sprout in hopes that one day they will blossom in full foliage on the screen or the stage.

Like I do with every "Screnzy" and every "NaNoWriMo" I've partaken in so far, I eagerly anticipate the first few seconds of April or November so I can start pounding away at the keys so my vision takes the first step in coming to life. As soon as 12:00:01 am rolls around on the 1st of those months, I let my fingers do the talking as word after word emerges on my computer monitor and I begin to flourish in all of my creative glory. Granted, most of my works during these two months rarely see the light of day, save for a select few; however, knowing that I'm able to tap into that inner genius for those 30 days twice a year is a personal reward sweeter than any Reese's Peanut Butter Cup I've ever tasted -- and those who know me know how much I love my Reese's.

This year's start of frenzied script writing also marks another momentous occasion for myself along the path to personal growth. As of writing this entry, I have officially reached the halfway point of my quest to better myself by attempting to kick my gambling habit. I will admit the first 23 days have been a bit of a challenge at times. However, I now officially have a distraction to help carry me through the balance of my abstinance trial. Surely, I can focus my attention and efforts into penning some art that I can faintly dream of appearing on television screens somewhere. Of course I can, and don't call me "Shirley."

With a renewed spring in my step and a sense of initial accomplishment as I reached my first benchmark ahead of my intended pace for the month, at the present juncture, I feel there's nothing that will cause me to veer of my intended courses to true bliss both personally and creatively.

I just have to remember to get some sleep eventually. Combine my excitement with the double shot of tea last night and I haven't slept a wink in 29 hours. You just know I'm gonna come off of this high eventually, but for now, I'm riding the wave.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but this is one heck of an adrenaline rush I'm on currently.

Day 22.. Battling Withdrawals

One of the most common problems one endures when they are coming over an addiction is the withdrawal symptoms. They begin to feel like they're stressed out and on the verge of a panic attack; like they're about to snap at any second and lash out, or even have a relapse. While I don't think I'm capable of falling back to my old ways at the current juncture -- temptation urges that I'm ignoring notwithstanding -- I do feel like I'm a little on edge.

Earlier today and last night, I was displaying signs of tenseness. I felt like I couldn't breathe and had a general malaise about myself. One would think it is a withdrawal symptom since I've pretty much gone cold turkey during the past three weeks, save for a couple questionable instances that didn't cost me any money, but could raise concerns about the validity of my quest (darn you, Pogo.com!).

Then again, those who have heard of my recent rituals for the past week, this could also be attributed to possible sleep deprivation. One's body clock isn't really something they should be tinkering with without a valid reason. And while I have enjoyed conversing with my Australian friend until almost dawn's early light, the nightly chat's until 3 and 4 in the morning have started to take their toll on me. I feel they've started to wear me out. Then, sensing how I appear to be in a weakened state, the temptress plotted an attack.

When I received the mail today, amongst it was an ad mail addressed to yours truly. It was from the racetrack slots facility I usually go to sporadically offering me a limited time offer of free slots play. The offer is only a $10 value, and only valid for the entire month of April; right when I am in the stretch run of my quest. I sensed it as a test of my will. Would I cave into the temptation and abandon the progress I've made so far? Or will I stick to my guns and ignore the bait? Or, will I meet them halfway: the offer is good until the end of April, and technically, the completion date of my abstinence is one week prior to the expiration of the promotion.

My mind raced with the options. The first was definitely out because I wanted to stay true to myself. The real choice I have is to either wait it out and take advantage of it once Easter has come and gone, or extend my mission and cast a blind eye to the opportunity to sin once Lent is complete. It's not an easy decision given my history, but one I need to make eventually. One thing is for sure, I still have another 25 days to survive, and I will not waver in that regard. The question is, do I throw it all away once those three and a half weeks have come and gone and return to my old ways, or do I tough it out for longer?

It's dilemmas like this that test a rehabilitating addict's meddle. And while I may seem beaten down by other factors at the current juncture, it's the will to stick to my goals that will help make me stronger in the attempt.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I seriously need to get at least one good night's sleep before the witching hour Thursday night. Hopefully, I'll feel better tomorrow.

Days 20 & 21.. Dealing with Social Acceptance

They say one usually goes into shock when they believe they know someone well, but then that someone does something that is a complete opposite to what the first person thought of them. This turned out to happen to me earlier this evening.

I was on the phone with a very dear friend of mine and she happened to be checking her Facebook news feed while I was talking to her. I know, some people might think that's kind of a rude behaviour, but in today's world of technology, it's become socially acceptable. Anyway, she was reading her news feed when she saw something that completely shocked her to the point where she begged me to hop onto the social networking service to see for myself. We ended the phone call and I headed to my computer to see what all the kerfuffle was about. What I saw knocked me for a bit of a loop.

It turns out one of our friends from the online community where we first met had gotten married, and they had just posted the photos from the occasion to their Facebook profile. There's nothing wrong with that, save for we didn't know they were in a relationship. However, the real shocker was that it turned out to be a civil ceremony.. with their same-sex partner.

Naturally, my friend and I were flabbergasted. My friend, a member of her local Catholic church, thought our newly married acquaintance was someone who was on the religious side, and such a union would be frowned upon. I, on the other hand, took a different approach to the matter. I accepted our acquaintance's vows and stated that if the person they married made them happy, I had no qualms with it. I think it's because a couple of my local writing compatriots fall under LGBT umbrella that I'm able to be more understanding of such civil unions. But that got me to thinking about other things.

My acquaintance's marriage will undoubtedly have a few critics along the way; primarily those who believe that same-sex unions are unholy and that such an institution should be between a man and a woman. To that I say such believers still have an antiquated mindset that is in serious need of an update. If my acquaintance truly believes this is what makes them happy, then it is unfair to deny them such happiness.

I too have my share of critics. Some people believe I will not survive the duration of Lent without gambling in some shape or form. And yes, there have been a couple of times where I have experienced weakness and debated giving into the temptation. However, I've held strong during the past 3 weeks and I will continue to do so for the next 4 and hopefully beyond. I'm doing it not only because I want to better myself, but I believe I can do it. If one has a strong belief in something that makes them feel good about themselves, then such a thing should not be denied.

Others should not dictate their beliefs because of what's right or what's wrong in society. That's why the world is as polarized as it is today; whether it be political, religious, financial, or whatever factor. If we can all accept each other for who we are and not for some "ideal" of how they want us to be, then there would be fewer problems on this crazy planet of ours.

That's why I'm happy for my acquaintance's recent vows. May their marriage be a loving and long-lasting one.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I think that Ceaser salad I had for dinner didn't agree with me. This is some nasty indigestion I got right here.

Days 18 & 19.. The Calm Before The Writing Storm

"Is it time to panic yet?"

"No, there's still 5 more days."

"But soon though, right?"

This Friday is the start of my springtime writing challenge, and while I've done some planning, the actual mountain I intend to ascend is beginning to look a little daunting.

The challenge I speak of is known as "Script Frenzy." It's run by the same people who challenge participants to scribe a novel every November during "National Novel Writing Month" (NaNo); however, the task differs between the two.

While the objective during the month-long autumn period is to create a 50,000-word novel, for Script Frenzy, participants are challenged to pen 100 pages of scripted material. Most people think this applies to writing a movie screenplay, but that's not the case. Participants can write a stage play, a script made for television, or the dialogue for a graphic novel. The possibilities are endless, but the main requirements are they have to be done as a script, they can only be written between 12:01 a.m. April 1st and 11:59 p.m. April 30th, and the total output in the end has to be at least 100 pages.

Some people say that doing in Script Frenzy is easier than doing NaNo, and to an extent, I agree with them. With NaNo, you have to write a novel from basically scratch (save for plotting notes) and you have to write it by yourself with no help; save from supporters. Script Frenzy isn't as stringent in that regard. For the April-long task, adaptations of your previous NaNo novels are allowed, and if you desire, you can form a team of two with someone else and work on your script(s) together. Also, some critics say that the actual word count for a 100-page script is fewer than a novel written in November (20,000 words for the script vs. 50,000 words for NaNo). With the minimum word count being lower for a completed work, it's no wonder I was able to hammer out two screenplays last year.

This year, I have my sights set on writing a television comedy series. At first, I was thinking of creating a full 13-episode season. However, remembering my little "biting off more than I could chew" incident from last November, I have scaled back my plot ideas for 9 episodes; which would slightly exceed my output from last April. Whether or not I'll try to extend that towards the full 13 will depend on my progress and how I'm feeling throughout the course of next month. If I stick to the 9-episode goal, I would have to average an episode roughly every 3 days. That seems like a daunting task, but if I pace myself and write about 8 pages a day, it should be achievable with no problem. Otherwise, I'll just take things as they come.

However, you don't have to set a lofty goal like I'm trying to do. If you think you have a creative itch that needs to be scratched or you have a script inside of you just waiting to be written, surf on over to the Script Frenzy website at: http://www.scriptfrenzy.org and sign-up today. We kick off our 2011 adventure this Friday morning, and run for 30 days; so don't delay. And if you need a hand in with your creation, check out the How-To guides for tips on how to format your work and links to some wickedly cool software that will help you lay it all out. (I use Celtx. (http://www.celtx.com) It's a free software that does the formatting for you, and gives you some templates to help give you an idea.)

So if you'd like, please come along for a month-long ride of creativity. It's gonna be a scripted blast!

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I have to make sure I'm stocked up on energy supplies for the month ahead. Oooooo, coffee pu'erh tea.

Day 16 & 17... Non-caffeinated Insomnia

One of the things I have learned over the years of being online that is really cool is the ability to talk to people all around the world. It makes one realize that via technology, we can bring people together from other sides of the globe for some good conversation. However, there are certain drawbacks to such a novelty.

Case in point, the past couple of nights I had taken to the opportunity to chat via messaging on Facebook with a friend I know from a message Forum for our favourite television series. (Duesers represent!) Here's the cool thing about it: I'm based in my high-rise abode in Toronto, Canada. My friend is logging on from Sydney, Australia. How cool is that?

Now, I confess I'm a little bit of a night owl to begin with. I've been known to call it a night at around 1:30 - 2 in the morning; and that's not during my writing marathons that take place in November and April where I push my insomnia to slightly later. However, in my defense, those semi-annual fits usually involve the ingestion of copious amounts of caffeine and/or sugar to cause my lack of sleep. The past couple of nights have been different though.

On Wednesday night, I discovered she was on Facebook, so I sent a friend request that she accepted. Just after she sent me a note thanking me for adding her. That started a messaging tete-a-tete that lasted until 3 in the morning my time. You'd think after that late night I would want to try to turn in at a more reasonable time the next evening. Unfortunately, it would not be the case.

Thursday night, I ended up making a comment to a posting she had made on her Facebook wall, and then the conversation started up again; this time lasting until 3:45 a.m. The remarkable thing about this is that I had not drank any coffee to cause me to stay awake for that long. The only thing remotely resembling a caffeine ingestion was the mug of black tea that had been infused with coconut and vanilla I consumed on Thursday night. It's a good thing I don't have any of that pu'erh tea with the coffee bean extracts laced in it. That would be definite grounds for caffeine-induced insomnia.

The slight irony of all of this is that in another week, I will be embarking on one of my semi-annual writing challenges where sleepless nights will be the norm for a good four weeks. Some people would write the past two nights off as crazy; others on the more unhinged side of the coin would claim this is a training exercise for what soon lies ahead. The way I see it, as long as I'm able to enjoy some entertaining conversation with a friend, its easy to lose track of time; just as long as my overall health doesn't suffer from it. And hey, if it means keeping my mind off lottery products, all the better.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but afternoon naps can help along the way too.

Day 15... Cold purity

One of the things residents of Southern Ontario can expect in March is the uncertainty of the weather. While the calendar may say that spring has already commenced, people living within this region are still susceptible to one last gasp of life from Ol' Man Winter. This happened to be the case today in my neck of the woods.

But first, a little backtracking: For a few days during the past week, we here in Toronto had been basking in some warmth that made one believe we were in the throws of late April or early May. The mercury had climbed one day to 14-degrees Celsius (that's around 57-degrees Fahrenheit for those readers in the U.S.). We even had a few rain showers to give it a true spring season feel to everything. Then in the course of 24 hours, all of that feeling of rebirth was snuffed out by an Arctic blast.

The temperature dropped like the Stock Market on that October day back in 1929. The warm air was replaced with cold, wintery winds, and snow blanketed the region. In Toronto alone, we received close to 10 centimetres worth of the white stuff (or about 4 inches). The driving conditions were a nightmare on the city's roads and highways with the Canadian Automotive Association responding to hundreds of fender benders. Thankfully, I don't drive, but I realize others need to. I didn't envy them having to navigate in all of this. Yet, in all of this weather-created chaos, I felt a calming purity to the weather.

The cool winds brought a fresh cleanliness to the air around me, and as the snow blanketed the streets and sidewalks, it reminded me of a plain white canvas where the most creative of artists could create a masterpiece. Children could play within the sweet pureness of the snowfall with some snow angels and showcase their innocence in a world of distractions and temptations of their televisions and mobile internet. Unfortunately, if I know how most individuals treat their surrounding environment in this city, the freshly fallen snow will just provide a blanket for their ongoing filth and complete disregard for the beauty of their natural surroundings. It's one of the more disheartening things I observe around me, but one I begrudgingly accept with living in a big city. But for now, I will just relish in the cool, wintery purity of my surroundings for the time being, and in the process, find some inner peace within.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I wonder if this is good enough packing powder for a snow fight.

Day 14.. Battling Another Hinderance

A wise man once said, "Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most." If memory serves me right, he suffered quite a few concussions over the years, but that adage has stayed with me to this day.

While most of the readers who have been following my progress reports during my attempt to battle my gambling addiction during Lent believe that this is one personal demon I'm taking on, there is another personal demon I've been battling behind the scenes. And it's a war I've been waging for many years, and will continue to duel with for many years to come.

I made mention of this war in one of the first posts I ever made on this blog many months ago, back when I was doing sporadic entries. And while it's not a comfortable thing to admit for some people, I take ownership of this "problem" and have no qualms about being up front with it. My plight is this: I suffer from mental illness.

I've been classed as someone who is bipolar -- someone with two different personalities. Most times I'm a pretty outgoing guy; a little shy at first, but sociable once I come out of my shell. However, there are other times when I take on a whole different persona. Someone who is unlike my normal self; and ends up displaying some rather uncharacteristic behaviour. It's like I completely switch gears and become almost a scary opposite. But when I eventually snap back to reality, I begin to feel remorse for whatever outlandish thing I had done.

I've come to terms with the fact my personality has it's own "two sides of the coin", per se. It's been ingrained into my mental wiring, and it's something I try to control with help. However, it has gotten me to thinking, could my gambling addiction be linked to my personality disorder? When I have a lottery product in my hand or am on the gaming floor, I become an entirely different person. Granted, I am still civil and not causing a disturbance amongst other players, but it's like I step into a different zone and I become a frenzied player on the inside. I know common sense wants me to stop, but I keep wanting to play more; like I'm not satisfied enough until I get a perceived adequate fill.

I think that's the root for most addictive behaviour. When one is addicted to a certain thing, they crave more and more until they believe their need has been satisfied. The trick is, knowing what that satisfaction threshold is. For some people, it's minimal and doesn't really lead to destructive behaviour. For addicts, like I am with gambling, their satisfaction point is much greater and can lead to problems. The mental training an addict needs to do is to lower that point of gratification so it can be at a level where you can still have some enjoyment, but not cause unrepairable damage to one's life.

That's what I'm eventually trying to do with this exercise: I'm attempting to reprogram my brain by wiping my slate clean (going cold turkey for Lent) and then re-educating myself so I can eventually reintroduce it in a responsible manner where I won't go overboard and lose my shirt all over again in a feeble attempt to hit that one big score.

With my mental wiring the way it is it won't be easy, but if it is one way of finding a stability of personal ebb and flow, then I am willing to try. Hopefully, it will help keep my other personality in check over the long haul.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I think I'm getting a grasp on my inner melon.

Days 12 & 13... Fighting Temptation, Round 2

Over the past couple of days, I've learned something: if I'm out and about and I'm feeling bored, the itch that's related to the addictive behaviour I'm trying to change starts crying for attention.

I noticed this twinge late Sunday afternoon. I had made the snap decision a few hours before to take a trip to Oshawa -- a community about 22 miles (35 kilometres) east of my place -- to take in the final regular season game for the city's major junior hockey franchise, the Generals. The Generals were taking on their division rival, the Peterborough Petes, before gearing up for the post-season that starts Thursday night with a best-of-7 match-up against the Kingston Frontenacs. The Petes were eliminated from the playoff race earlier in the day when the Belleville Bulls snatched the final spot in the post-season this year with a 3-2 win over the Brampton Batallion.

Anyway, the game didn't start until 7 in the evening, but I left my apartment early for concern that I wouldn't be able to get a ticket to the match-up. I arrived at the box office at 4:30 in the afternoon and scored an 11th row ducat in one of the corners of the arena. However, I was caught in a dilema. The gates didn't open until 6 p.m. It was 4:30. How was I going to kill 90 minutes until I would be able to make my way to my seat? One notion was handled with ease when I decided to grab an early dinner from a Quizno's near the arena. That killed some time. But after my meal, I was still feeling a smidge peckish. I went searching for a Tim Hortons near the arena. And after trekking a loop of about 6 short blocks west of the arena, I was able to locate one where I sat and scarfed back a donut and a 10-ounce hot chocolate. By the time I was done, it was about 5:15. I needed to kill more time. I decided to walk in the other direction; heading east. It was during this trek when the itch started to flare up.

I noticed a major convenience store chain further down the street and my brain started to flare up. The temptation said, "You haven't played a scratch ticket in a week and a half now. Isn't it time you shelled out $3 for an Instant Crossword?" I was in a bind. I wanted to stay true to my promise to myself, but the thought made me consider cheating on my vow. Fortunately, common sense snapped into my head. It pointed to me and said, "Remember your word. You promised not to buy any lottery products until after Easter. You've made such good progress so far. Don't throw it all away for one cheap thrill." I think what also helped was the fact that the convenience store was on the other side of a busy thoroughfare. I don't think playing chicken to sin was worth it. What also saved me was there was another Tim Hortons location on the side of the street I was on. So I ducked in there and had a 10-ounce coffee (and in the process, screwed up my sleep pattern Sunday night). By the time I finished my coffee and walked back to the arena, with my promise still intact, they had started letting people into the arena.

My roommate wanted a white Generals' jersey; which he gave me the money to purchase for him, so I ducked into the team store, bought the garment for him, and made my way to my seat. I would watch the game with a clear conscience; even ignoring the hawkers selling charity 50/50 tickets. Granted, I didn't notice them to begin with, but if I did, I would've declined their offer. Even if it was for charitable purposes, gambling is gambling, and I vowed to continue to abstain from it for the next 5 weeks.

The game ended up being a spirited affair with the home side winning by a final score of 3-1. After the game, I waited for a half hour for the bus to whisk me to my connecting commuter train to take me back home. While I waited, I ducked into a different convenience store, and while I did notice their scratch ticket display, all I purchased from there was a bag of potato chips. And let me just say, they come out with the weirdest flavours nowadays. The one I sampled was "honey mustard"-flavoured. They were interesting, but I was expecting a stronger taste from them. Of course, when you're used to slathering honey mustard on your lunchtime sandwich, you develop a defined taste for it.

I made it back through the apartment door just before 11:30 p.m. and a clearer conscience knowing that I had temptation playing with my head and I walked away from it without giving in. I just hope I can keep this up for another month and a bit.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but like Kanye once sang, "What that don't kill me can only make me stronger."

Day 11... The Power of Support

When one takes on the arduous task of doing a personal challenge, one of the easiest things they can possess to make the journey easier is a support circle. This can be true for any test one puts themselves through; whether it be a weight management program, a training regimine for an upcoming race, or -- in the case of yours truly -- an attempt for personal change in one's life.

I will confess, when I commenced this sojourn a week and a half ago, I didn't have many supporters. Then again, there wasn't a whole lot of people I told about my quest going into it. It was a spur of the moment idea where I wanted to change something about my nature, and I saw Lent as the opportunity to start the ball rolling for this conditioning.

I decided to post links to these "musing progress reports" to my Twitter and Facebook account in hopes I would get people who follow me on those social networks to see my progression as the days go on; which is kind of funny. I was never really into marketing in college; yet, in a way, by referring people to these postings, I'm actually promoting myself. Imagine that? But I'm starting to veer off topic.

I did not expect my friends to follow along in my journey. Perhaps a couple of people I had informed about my personal test, but that's about it. However, as I continued my path, I received some words of encouragement from others. One from a friend whom I admit I have been lax on staying in touch with recently. I should give them a call sometime to check in with them.

The latest compliment came from one of my fellow creative counterparts who has taken a shining to my literary prose in these entries. She also gave me some muse to ponder about my whole sojourn: on the topic of gambling in general, "you win everytime you keep your money for you." The more you think about it, she is absolutely right.

The biggest pratfall in gambling is when one loses more than they intend to play with, and the addict (myself, for example) will attempt to play more in an attempt to earn back what they've originally lost. This strategy is more often than not faulty as the end result will mean the addict will be further behind than they would've been had they established a cut-off line. It ends up being a vicious circle where the losses keep piling up and they end up in a deep pit where they have almost no chance of escaping. For some hardened addicts, it's lead to lost assets like homes, broken families, and in some extreme cases... well, I'd rather not say, but let's just say it's never pleasant for the ones they left behind.

So my compatriot's words ring true when you come to the realization that in order to avoid traversing such a slippery slope, one needs to only risk what they can afford. Make sure you budget it as an entertainment expense, set a limit, and strictly adhere to it. However, it is much better if such an expense was utilized for better entertainment options; like going to the movies, attending a concert by an artist you really like, or like I'm planning with my savings: purchasing tickets to a game by your favourite sporting team. It's all about recognizing better ways of how the money spent on such sinful escapades can be used for activities that give you as much enjoyment without sending you into a dreaded abyss.

It's sage advice from supporters like her who will help keep me on the straight and narrow to my eventual goal. Thank you, "Red".

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I should stop paying attention to college basketball and pay more attention to hockey. The stretch run to the playoffs is upon us!

Day 9 and 10... Another Evil I'm Aware Of

While the primary goal in this trial is to abstain from lottery products, I need to be conscious of other evils that are out there.

This past Thursday was St. Patrick's Day, and while it is truthfully to commemorate the patron saint of Ireland's ridding of snakes, most take it as an opportunity to celebrate by enjoying the livations of alcohol. I never understood why the truth is linked to this belief, but 'tis forever thus. Usually, the alcoholic beverage of choice at these celebrations is the unofficial beer of the Emerald Isle, Guinness Stout. Normally, I shy away from such a heavy brew; opting for the more domestic or craft brews that are created here in Southern Ontario (amongst my favourite crafts are Nickelbrook Green Apple Pilsner and Mill Street Brewery's Organic Lager). However, in keeping in the spirit of the day, I decided to head over to the local Beer Store in an attempt to pick up a single can of the dark brown liquid.

Unfortunately, to my dismay, the smallest size they were selling was a box of four cans, each slightly smaller than a pint. I debated about it for a couple days. I didn't want to be on the hook for such an exoberant amount of fluid, yet I didn't want to instead head for a local Irish pub and stand in line for hours on end just to enjoy a single pint. After some deliberation, I bit the bullet and purchased the case of four tins. However, there was another dilema I found myself in; one that still pains me for how taxing it was on my psyche.

The dilema was regarding my roommate. For those who don't know the story, 'twas just last March when my roommate partook in a foolish personal incident. As a result, he decided to drown his sorrows with alcohol. There is only one problem with that: he is a problematic binge drinker. If he doesn't have a drop of booze in his system, he's alright. However, when he starts to intake such hard livations, it is almost impossible to get him to stop. Last year's binge lasted for 5 days and ended up with him spending a week and a half in the hospital -- 5 days of which were in the Critical Care Unit -- because he was so dehydrated. It was a horrendous ordeal that I had to watch him drink himself into near oblivion and no matter what attempts I tried to get him to stop, it was for not. I wouldn't want to wish that upon anyone. Fast forward to yesterday.

So here I was, with over 1.75 litres of alcohol and I was trying to figure out how I could: A) enjoy it, and B) make sure he didn't see it and in turn, cause a possible relapse. The part B was a quandry as unlike my roommate's bingeing, I know my limitations: 2 drinks per day is my maximum. However, I was possession of 4 cans. How could I safely store the balance without him stumbling upon them? I was able to tuck them away in a nice, cool hiding place though: in the back of my drawer of our refrigerator's vegetable crisper. (Our fridge has two drawers for such; we usually keep our supplies of bagged milk stored in them.) I enjoyed two tins on Thursday before he came home from work; disposing of the finished containers before hours before he came through the door, and I hoped he wouldn't locate the remain two cannisters before I had the chance to indulge in them. When I checked Friday morning after he had left for his job they were still there, so I consumed them both later that day.

There was one slight drawback to my plan. My usual 2 drinks per day limits usually pertain to your average 12-ounce bottles of beer. If you take into account the size of the cannisters of draught beer I had consumed over the two days, I had knocked back the equivalent of just a shade over 5 bottles of beer in less than 36 hours. To say I was feeling pretty buzzed is an understatement. I'm not saying I'm proud of this "accomplishment", if you can even define it as that, and I would not advise anyone to attempt this either. If you are well aware of your limitations when it comes to alcohol, please make sure you adhere to them and never waiver. I'm just thankful I didn't end up vomiting from this ordeal nearly 11 hours after the completion of the last can. However, I'm sure I might be experiencing a bit of a hangover in the next little while. Time to pump more water down my gullet in hopes it will nullify the effects to a minute extent. Needless to say, it will be quite a while before I bring anymore alcohol into the apartment. The risks are too big.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I wonder if we still have any Aspirin in the medicine cabinet; just in case.

Day 8... Recognizing Stressors

When one embarks upon a personal quest for betterment (is that even a word?) like they do during Lent, they must do so with a clear conscience that is free of any inhibitors. One of the primary road blocks in anyone's path to serenity is the presence of stress in one's life. Stress can take many forms: whether it be the temptation to abandon their ambitions and regress into the behaviour they are trying to change, or outside factors they feel may cloud their overall enjoyment in their journey. Today, I was able to recognize one of these outside factors.

The local movie theatre is showing an event on one of their screens in 2-1/2 weeks time and it has a tendency to sell out. I decided today to make a trek to said theatre, with my copy of Life of Pi in hand, and purchase my ticket in advance. I figured after I bought my ticket, I would head over to the David's Tea location within the adjacent shopping centre, purchase a cup of tea, then walk to the nearby outdoor public square and read whilst enjoying my beverage. As I sat in the square, sipping on my hot drink and reading -- taking the odd occasion to people watch -- I was struck by the sheer calmness of my surroundings. People passed by en route to the surrounding office buildings and condominiums, but I was oblivious to them. I felt like I was experiencing a true zen moment that relaxed my id to the point where I believed nothing could aggravate me. I was relishing this bliss so much that after I finished my tea, I decided to walk from said public square to my apartment building... which happened to be a good 3 miles away. Little did I realize that minutes after my eventual return to my abode that my good vibes would be infringed upon.

I hopped onto my computer to check in on my usual social feeds when for some reason, I decided to visit this one chat room that had some bad memories for me previously. About 4 months ago, I was participating in a writing challenge where I had set quite a lofty goal for myself. During my attempt then, I went into a downward spiral of anxiety and mental anguish. It got so bad that I started having delusions about other members of this chat room (some may argue I still do to a degree). I thought that 4 months apart might have healed those wounds, so I decided to return to the chat room. When I arrived, the anxiety began to return. I felt all of the mental anguish and perceived disdain build up within me once again. After a few minutes of not saying a thing, I left the site and began to re-evaluate my decision.

I was puzzled. While I could be classed as a social wallflower in person, online I was a pretty outgoing guy. How could this bout of social anxiety have gotten the better of me? I then dug deep into the recesses of my psyche to seek out the source of my mental and emotional discomfort. I traced it back to my ordeal 4 months prior and the whole circumstances that entailed it. I was able to pinpoint the fact that I had set a lofty goal during that writing challenge was the seed of my stress. It had gone dormant once that challenge had ended. Now, in 2 weeks, I am about to embark on another writing challenge, and it would appear that I had set some high expectations for myself once again. I recognized the similarities of the two and cited that setting myself on fire with these ambitions would prove taxing upon my psyche. While I doubt my frayed nerves would result in a relapse in my aspirations for Lent, the probability could not be ignored.

I took a step back and thought, "if the source of my anxiety was the fact that I'm putting too much pressure on myself with these high output expectations, perhaps I should downgrade my targets to a more comfortable level." And that's what I've done. My lofty goal expectation would have me attempting to scribe over 300 pages of material within 30 days. Now, I have dialled it back to where at the bare minimum, I will write 168 pages within that time frame. Ideally, I'd like to hammer out about 216 pages; thus, bettering my output from last April. However, I will do the best I can as long as my will and my comfort will allow me. If I make it, I will be happy. If I don't, I won't be disappointed; as long as I remain valiant in my attempt.

With this perceived monkey off of my back, I daringly made a return to the chat room later on in the evening, and my anxiety concerns were non-existant. I was able to participate in a few conversations and I didn't have any real need to leave until everyone else had called it a night. I don't know how often I will return to the chat room in the next little while. It will depend on my ebb and flow over the course of the next 6-1/2 weeks; however, recognizing the cause of my stress and finding a way to overcome it is another step on my path to improving myself overall.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I also learned that when it comes to green tea, I prefer it freshly brewed instead of cold and/or blended into other products.

Day 7... A Taste I Haven't Acquired

Over the years there are few things in this world that I have developed a disliking to; two-faced people and things being shoved down my throat being the two main ones on my list.

Those two things go without saying. Who really likes someone who will be nice to your face, and then the second its turned, they stab you in the back? Also, don't you hate pushy marketers who are constantly in your face about such-and-such a person or item being the "newest and latest big thing"? (People who are handling Justin Bieber's career, I'm looking right at you.) I prefer things that are open and honest and haven't been forced upon me with the ideology that "everyone else likes it; why don't you?" It's just part of my personal beliefs. That's part of the reason why I have a level of discomfort when it comes to the marketing ploys by the Ontario Lottery & Gaming Corporation during my current quest.

While I am aware that this government-operated organization is not going to curtail their selling job to the masses just because I've taken a vow of abstinance from their products during Lent. It just appals me over the constant selling job their doing to hype whatever promotion they have ongoing.

Case in point: currently they're pushing the sale of a special Sweepstakes-like lotto game called "Millionaire Life". The grand prize is an annuity that pays out $1 Million Cdn a year for 25 years, but you can only win it if you match the exact 8-digit number that is drawn. They also offer subsidiary prizes of $1,000 and $20; depending on which part of the main draw number you match. What's more, they also entice players with promises of 31 prizes of an SUV up for grabs as well with an additional 17 draws for sportscars if you buy your tickets before this Thursday. Sounds enticing, doesn't it? But then you find out the cost of the tickets for this lottery promotion: $5 for one chance, $10 for three chances, or $20 for seven chances; plus, you can't pick the numbers you get. Your selection numbers are computer-generated; thus, adding to the probable likelihood that you'll be kissing some denomination of paper currency goodbye.

While I do commend this foul temptress in attempting to rope the gambling public with promises of a huge payout to one "lucky" individual, it is just basically another cash grab where the return on investment will be minimal, if any at all. In previous years when this promotion has been operated, I have tried and failed to cash in on even a $20 "peace offering". This year, I will not fall for this constructed con job.

I think that's one thing that this personal quest has opened my eyes to: the fact that this; along with the majority of other lottery products are all full of empty promises. Sure, once in a blue moon they'll throw you a bone to make you think you're actually ahead, but it's just an attempt to rope one in with the thinking, "if I was able to win this small amount, I bet I can score one of the bigger prizes." And before you know it, you'll be further behind than you'll be ahead. That's the mistake I've made in the past, and I've paid dearly for it. I am now cognizant to their tactics, and I hope that once Easter weekend is over, I will not forgo this wisdom I've learned.

Until next time, the views are from the outside, but I think I've found something else I don't like: cold green tea. Blech!

Days 5 & 6... "Do you like... Pi?"

Sometimes the best way to relax and fend off temptation is curling up with a good book. And with today being what it was, I think the title of the book is a propos.

I received some good news today when I was checking my bank account. My 2010 Income Tax had been processed and my refund was directly deposited into it. With my new found wealth, I came through on my promise to pay myself by replenishing my Season Ticket fund (I had to dip into it this month to help make ends meet because the balance for this season's tickets for the Ti-Cats -- $160 -- came out on March 2nd. I won't have to worry about it come this time next year.). I also finalized plans to go to a minor league hockey game with my roommate in just under 4 weeks by buying the tickets today (and informing him how much he needs to reimburse me for his ticket). However, that wasn't the only purchase I made today.

Today happened to be "Pi Day." It's been labelled as such by some "intellectuals" because the date can be written as "3.14", a.k.a. pi rounded to two decimal places. To celebrate, people who observe this day like to indulge in a slice of pie. It doesn't have to be any particular variety of the dessert; just as long as it's enjoyed. (And yes, I'm fully aware of what some perverted males like to refer to this day as too, but I'm not going to dignify that with any additional description.) Anyway, I had all intentions to have a taste of a sweet treat later in the evening, but there was something more I felt was needed to make this day complete. It wasn't some coffee from Tim Horton's or some Cocomama Lime from David's Tea. The nourishment I craved was for my mind; specifically, a certain book.

I was familiar with this particular novel for a while now, but had never read it. A search of the Toronto Public Library database stated that there were no available copies near my apartment complex. If I wanted this day to be complete, I had to go and seek out a copy for purchase. After picking up the tickets to the hockey game, I went on a search in any downtown bookstore I came across to see if they had a copy. Fortunately, I located one in the Coles in Commerce Court. $22 and change later, I had in my paws the final piece of my Pi Day enlightment puzzle. The book in question? The 2002 winner of the Man Booker Prize for Canadian Fiction, Life of Pi by Yann Martel. (And insert the collective groan here.)

So tonight, as I was killing time until Monday Night RAW started, I dined on a slice of McCain's frozen chocolate cream pie while reading the tale of a man who was originally raised as the son of a zoo owner in the former French India, but currently resides in the Toronto area. It's a good book so far -- even though I'm only about 11.8% finished it. However, it'll be a good distraction from the temptations of lottery tickets for the next little while. It wasn't easy walking from Union Station up to Queen & Yonge and seeing a few lottery kiosks along my route, but I resisted the urges and kept true to my goal. Of course, the Shamrock Shake from McDonald's helped too.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I am still "The temptation beating, pie eating, book reading, writer of scenes stealing, my roommate might be a hindering *CENSORED*, but I'm doing this to save my soul", yours truly. (A little bit of a nod to Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson on that sign-off.)

Day 4.. The Tempter I Live With

I knew I would eventually come across some naysayers. I just didn't think it would come under the same roof I call home.

No one said that me giving up lottery purchases for the 47 days of Lent was going to be easy; I knew I would come across my share of temptation whenever I happened to be in a convenience store making a simple purchase of a beverage or tokens for future transit trips. However, tonight, I would have an enticer sitting in the recliner beside me.

My roommate and I were discussing the Pro-Line ticket he wagered on some hockey games tonight. He asked if I played a ticket for some games tonight, and I told him no and explained my ambitions for this bid of abstinence. Naturally, he mocked me; citing that I'm no saint by any stretch -- guilty as charged there, but then again, neither is he. He agreed that I do tend to spend quite a bit on lottery tickets that usually end up for not. But instead of commending me for my intent, he suggested that I "cut back" to the point where I only purchase one Pro-Line ticket a week like he says he does.

Notably, I was upset and insulted. Here I was, attempting to better myself with a noble aspiration, and he turns around and offers a minimal alternative. That's like telling a drug addict who believes that he should kick the habit by going cold turkey that he can still feed his addiction by taking a smaller dosage. Addictions are addictions, and any insinuations or recommendations that a little bit will help curb the addiction is ill-advised and leaves the door wide open to a devastating relapse. Already I've had thoughts of going back to my old ways well after this trial period is over. However, I am trying my best to stick this out and stay clean until Easter Sunday, if not well beyond. Mind you, that free ticket I had for the Lotto Max last night didn't help matters either. As predicted, I didn't win anything on it, but one has to wonder if the seed has been planted for an eventual relapse once the next 6 weeks and a bit have passed. It's something I admit I'm worried about, and his brash bravado and suggestion is not helping. Just add it to the growing list of things I need to fight during this test.

Thankfully, my tea supplies are still ample; I can take some solace in that if need be.

Until next time, the views may be from the outside, but I'm still battling the demon within.