A few points of order

So I've finally got the internet and I've gotta say: You guys are awesome! I would've started the ol' blog up quite a ways back if I'd had to means to do it, but the internet tech dude just delivered our missing modem piece earlier today. So here I am. I'm kind of at a loss for what to say... I feel kinda rusty at this. So I guess this is the part where I crack my knuckles and hunch over the keyboard for 60-some-odd minutes! Oh, the excitement of it all. Booyahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. And oh yeah, my "H" still sticks sometimes, so bear with me.

First order of business: The explanation of that picture down below. And yeah -- there were better photo ops in that bathroom stall, but they didn't capture the essence of the moment. And what essence would that be, you ask? Well, the essence of me spiking my complimentary Burger King Coke, while in a smelly bathroom stall of the Halifax international airport after my flight had been delayed, that's what! I was supposed to be home that night to go drinking with some friends, but since I was going to be late anyway, I decided to prime up in the airport. And I drank it in the food-court while talking to a pilot. I actually tried to get a picture of us together, but I'd had the camera on a slow shutter speed while playing with it, which caused the resulting Pat-pilot bonding moment to show up as a whole lot of fuzzy nothing.

So anyway, on to the next choice picture-story:

So when I first got to Newfoundland for the school year, I was living solo-style in our huge house for a weekend. Yes -- it was lonely, and -- yes -- I lacked furniture and any sort of entertainment, but you know what? I survived. You know why? Cause I'm a survivor.

For 3 grueling days, I lived off of pre-fabricated meals and my own raw wits. By the time I'd gotten groceries, I was starving, but our house seemed to be without the base elements necessary for cooking. I was forced to caveman it. I found an old beat-up cookie sheet, and managed to get a Sobey's meat pie into the oven. I encountered my first problem as it came time to remove said meat-pie from the oven -- the meat pie was hot. At the last minute, I scoured the house for something -- anything! -- that would allow me to remove the delicious meat-pie from above the red-hot element. I couldn't find any oven mitts or towels, so I ended up using the shirt off my back to pull the pan out.

The I came across the next problem: I had no cutlery or plates. I again combed over the house to find the tools that I needed. I ended up eating my supper on top of a report-cover from the previous year, using pliers and and box-cutters from the tool-box downstairs.

Ghetto indeed.

But goddamn that meat-pie was good.