Almosts

My cat has spent the past fifteen minutes staring at a nondescript spot on the wall. Every few seconds, he cocks his head to the side, as if to further examine the spot at which he stares so intently, and proceeds to swat at it. When swatting has failed, he moves on to scratching. I wish he'd find himself a better hobby.
- 2/5/07

The moon was full and bright in the night's sky, illuminating the dog sitting calmly on the steps. I stood just inside the door, keeping watch over my charge, in awe of the moonlight's beauty. Snow is always at its most beautiful at night.
- 1/31/07

I used to get called to the vice-principals office weekly in high school. "You miss so much school," he would tell me. "Do you know that, on average, students' grades drop 1% for each day they are absent?"
"Clearly this is not true," I laughed. "That would mean that my average would be well above 100%."
"That is the thing," he whined. "You are defying these statistics. Imagine what your marks would be if you stopped missing so much school."
I merely shrugged in response. I have never cared what my marks could be. I merely focus on what they are and how much effort I have to put in to get them where I want them to be.
My high school biology teacher once told me, "You may be able to miss school like this now, but you'll never be able to keep this up in university." I think I have subconsciously made it my mission to prove her wrong.
- 1/24/07

When you receive an e-mail from a close friend that reads as follows:
Yo, are you dead? Where are you? I have called your house so many times I could be qualified a stalker. Don't make me break in there through a window.
Call me.
It makes you realize that you might have been more than slightly neglecting your social duties.
- 1/20/07

Last week I broke the cardinal rule when using a public washroom: I took a dump. Upon entering the washroom, I did a thorough search to ensure that I was alone before proceeding to a stall that was far away from the door. After carefully covering the toilet seat with one-ply, toilet paper that rivaled sand paper, I took a seat and began to move my bowels in ways that should never occur in public.
Upon exiting the stall to wash my hands, I realized that, at some point in time during my bowel movement, someone had joined me in the bathroom. With all my straining and gas, I had lost my ability to multi-task and keep an ear out for the door. Naturally, I washed my hands and took off out of the bathroom at light speed.
- 1/15/07