Pavlov's Cellphone

I was drinking drinking tea with one of my friends. Unlike me, some people are so socially busy that they have the compelling need to constantly check their phone even when they are with someone else.

(Yes, I know, I've complained about this before. This situation is different so please, bare with me)

While we were talking her phone rang quite a few times. What was particular about this situation was her ringtone. Every time she got a message, her phone vibrated and made a bell sound. After five or six messages, she was still talking to me but I could no longer focus on what she was saying. It was too late, the parallel between Pavlov's bells and dogs had been made.

For those that didn't study psychology, Pavlov was a scientist that discovered classical conditioning with dogs. Shorty, every time Pavlov fed his dogs, he would ring a bell. The dogs would associate this bell with food and soon became to salivate when they heard the bell without any food needed.

Now I'm not calling this girl a female dog. She is a highly intelligent individual with nothing canine about her. Nor was she salivating every time the phone rang. Her conditioning went further. It was rooted deeply on an emotional level. The inevitable and normal question was of course: ''Is whatever happening on that phone so important and interesting that she needs to check it right away?''. Any respectable person would get annoyed (if not mad). However, I did not. All I could think of was: ''Poor girl, she is so possessed and conditioned by her phone that she doesn't realize what she's doing''. I still didn't do anything about it.

Hear Me, If You Dare!

The worst thing about class is when your friends don't show up and don't tell you about their ''skipping'' plans. Of course, this happens to me every now and then. Last German class, my dear friend K didn't show up. G did, but his usual state of tiredness was amplified by the hash brownies he had ingested right before class. ''What an idiot'' I thought.

I was sitting quietly waiting for the teacher to pronounce the dreadful words: ''Jetzt darfen sie zusammen arbeiten. Fragen ein ander was er macht in alle seine Zimmer'' (Now you may work together. Ask each other what you do in each room). That was the worst. It's especially bad when you're friend isn't there and you have to awkwardly turn around to see if there isn't another soul, a fellow compatriot, in a similar situation willing to work with you. To my left, two girls were already working. To my right, G was sleeping. I turned around. I was surprisingly greeted by a warm smile.
(For the convenience of my readers who don't speak German, the following text in italic was said in German)
-Hey! How are you? Wanna work together? I asked, quite awkwardly, looking away from those deep blue eyes.
*The girl nodded*
-Do you want to start?
*She nodded again*
-Well, go ahead, ask me...
*Another nod* My impatience was growing. I started to wonder if this girl was making fun of me.
-Did you understand what we have to do?
*She took a deep breath and gave me a look similar to the ones puppies give you right before you adopt them*
-Well? Are you going to speak?
-I... I...
-What? Come on! Don't be shy! I don't bite.
-I... can't hear you. She muttered under her breath.
That's when I noticed her earpiece. This happens rarely, but I panicked a bit and said ''sorry''.
-What are you sorry about? She asked me, surprisingly calmly.
-I uh... Well...
-ES IST SOWEIT! WER WILL MICH ANTWORTEN!? (IT'S TIME! WHO WILL ANSWER ME!?) Said the teacher, so loud that he startled me. This meant that I had to turn around for another 30 minutes of German lecturing.

I couldn't stop thinking of how badly I screwed up. While the teacher was preaching in his monotonous and very typical German voice, I made a million plans on how I was going to befriend this girl. I was going to ask for her name, then I would compliment on it, then I would invite her for a cup of tea... My thoughts were interrupted by people standing up. Was the lecture over? Even G, whom I could swear was still sleeping only a few seconds ago had already packed up and was looking at me like some perplexed animal.
I turned around swiftly, the girl was already gone.
''I guess not'' was my last thought before I walked out of class and plugged in my earphones.

Calling Online

I just got fired from yet another job.
This time, I worked a total of three hours for a calling company. In all honesty, I must say that I'm glad not to be working there. Here is why:
1. The stench in the room was unbearable. Imagine this, I am stuck in something that looks like a computer programming classroom only between me and my "classmates" is a solid plastic wall that prevents me from looking at anything else than your computer. I felt claustrophobic and nauseous. The people around me are exhausted. The room is poorly ventilated. I felt like one of those chickens placed in a cage for transport.
2. I like chicken, but I didn't like the big Ostrich, the manager, whom had nothing better to do than to stroll up and down the chicken cages, forcing us to work harder, better and faster.
3. The whole job doesn't allow you to think. If by any chance you have the misfortune of doubting the efficiency or the use of the BS you're unloading on the poor customers; I guarantee that you'll not only be revolted, you'll want to speak about it to your manager - that will get you fired.

I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever be able to find a job that I like (or that I can do, with my inability to work in loud or crowded places)
Coming up next - pet shop work...
Hopefully.

The Philosopher In You

How many of you 20 year-olds were asked ''What do you want to do in life''? The proper answer to this question is ''What would you like me to say?''

This society is more and more devaluating jobs that are not only respectable, but also crucial for the well functioning of any community. What kid dreams of becoming a plumber? None, obviously, because we look down to them. Still, I'm not worried about technical jobs. It's the social science jobs that worry me the most. A few hundred years ago, being a philosopher maybe wasn't high on the social ladder, but there was nothing wrong with that. Now, we look at humanities and liberal arts with a criticizing eye. In our society, people are born, go to school, obtain a job, rush to that job, rush from that job to their home, go to bed and repeat the cycle until they retire and die. Very few of these so called humans (whom are closer related to sheep) ever stop and wonder 'is this significant'. 'Does what I do matter?'
Chances are, if you ask yourself that question, the answer is no. And it should be no! Think about it, unless you're self-employed (which you probably aren't) you're making someone else rich. So your labor matters to him (or her) more than to you. That's why humans build families and friendships. But can you really find meaning in going out with some people, copulating with others and growing tiny humans you call children? If the answer is yes, congratulations, you're not much different than any other herd animal.
'Well then, if you're so smart, what's YOUR purpose in life?', would ask anyone and everyone that got offended by the previous statement. To these people, I toss back a question: 'what's the difference between a human and a cow?'. You guessed it, humans, unlike cows, are capable of reason. And if that is the only (except for the physiological and even so for some individuals debatable difference) difference, wouldn't that be our ultimate goal? I think it's not a bad one.

We humans are born to reason. That sounds about right. Sadly, most people forget reason exists and behave like sheep. Stop living on the automatic. Put your phone away, look at people and ask 'why'. If not to them, ask it to yourself.

Black Cross

I was surprised to receive a phone call from the Red Cross telling me that they were interested in my candidature. Just a few hours prior to that, I came out of a coffee shop thinking that I had just spent the worst interview of my life.
The interview itself wasn't anything like I was used to. It was in a coffee house, one in which French snobs would sit around and discuss insignificant matters over an overpriced latte. The "coffee" was offered by the organization; I played my Englishman and ordered tea instead. The gave a very large red cup. The cup was so large I could possibly drown a few African children in it. Not only was is so large that it was impossible to lift with one hand, the cute waitress had filled it to the point where any diagonal movement would create another Tsunami to raise funds for. My interviewer was busy; I walked towards him to indicate my presence. He looked more like a bear than a human being. In front of him sat a boy; one of those that finds it amusing to stretch their ears to the point that  you can use him as a basketball hoop. "He's quite unlikely to get the job, with the looks that he has" I thought. The bear looked at me, nodded and asked me to kindly sit on the other end of the cafe so that he may finish his interview. I complied.

Half an hour later, whilst I was peacefully playing chess on my phone, an enormous hand appeared in front of me. I contemplated it for a few seconds. It was hairy, "it must belong to come kind of furry creature". I was awaken from my thoughts by a deep "Bonjour!". The bearman was standing in front of me, smiling and gesticulating an invitation to join him at his table. The whole interview was a mix of smiles, embarrassing role plays and questions to which I had to find an adequate answer so that I don't shock the bear. Never in my life have I made up so many personal virtues and moral rules. "Humanity is important..." "I want to do my part for the world..." "I want to help people..." What a big load of BS. It was all said to hide my actual motive to obtain the job - Money.

Nevertheless, I must have been quite convincing since a few days later, I found myself skipping German. The training took place on Nun's Island. After the confusing bus ride and fairly awkward introduction (during which I once again unloaded the excessive amount of BS I had given during the interview) our lecturer, E, started introducing us to what the Red Cross does for the world. E was a rather strange individual. Skinny, with a beard, he looked like the type of guy whom got his job by a lucky coincidence of having the right last name and being friends with the right people. He was very loud and it was hard to concentrate on what was being said. On that day, I found out that I was supposed to find people whom subconsciously have always wanted to give for the Red Cross. E made it clear that we weren't supposed to convince anyone. If they are motivated, you sign them up.

That's when I started doubting the whole idea of these regular donors. Before I get into the details of my doubts, I think it's important that I clarify what is meant by a "regular donor". A "regular donor" is an individual stupid enough to think that by signing up to an automatic monthly withdraw from his bank account he is doing something good for the world. This monthly soul cleansing is probably the most idiotic thing I've ever seen.

The worst about this job is that I have to talk about things that this organization does with which I don't necessarily agree. For instance, letting Syrians in Europe shouldn't be so easy. Don't get me wrong, as an immigrant myself, I have nothing against moving from one country to another. However, I firmly believe that if you want to live elsewhere, you need to at least somewhat adopt the culture you'll be surrounded with, work, and above all learn the language(s) of your new country. If you don't do these things, you should be shipped elsewhere. Also, I don't agree with sending money here and there around the world when we have problems of our own in Canada. I think that it's only once that Canada has eliminated poverty and unemployment in it's own state that it would be justifiable to send money to other countries. This might sound a bit individualistic but why choose others instead of our own citizens? There is thousands of Canadian families that live in terrible conditions. Stop sending money to Tchad, keep it in the country.

I few days ago, I had my first work day. My doubts became reality. The entire team collected a total of 3 people. Despite having stopped numerous people, nobody seemed willing to sing up. I don't blame them. I don't even blame those that passed avoiding me. I would have done the same. I'm not sure I want to keep working for them. The shifts are exhausting and not gratifying at all.

As a conclusion I can only say this: "if you SEE someone in need, help them; don't waste your time and money on helping those whom you don't see". If everyone did this, I truly believe that it would make a bigger impact than sending money here and there.

Do You Even Camp, Bro?

On the first day, I arrived to Dawson college around 7:20 am. The bus was supposed to leave at 7:45 but it wasn't there yet. I ventured through the main doors facing Sherbrooke Street where I found my fellow compatriots sitting on the stairs. They looked exhausted. I glanced at the two girls whom looked up to my face for a brief moment before looking away, unsatisfied or uninterested in what they saw. "That one must be Jewish", I thought, judging the girl's appearance. She had a large nose, not very athletic, there was something peculiar about this girl. Then again, all girls look special when you haven't had a relationship in over a year. Behind them was sitting the guy that was supposed to be my friend for the trip. I called him Comrade because I had no idea what his actual name was.

- Oy Comrade! I said with the biggest and fakest smile on my face.

I wanted to be done with this trip. School trips usually suck. Everyone gets wasted and high and nobody has any respect for nature. I looked at my friend to be. He looked like the biggest stoner I had ever seen. Curly hair, poorly shaven, drowsy look. There was everything to be disgusted. As I was going up the stairs to sit next to him, I tripped and twisted my ankle. The intense pain triggered through me like an electroshock. I looked back at the two girls, they were looking at me, worried. "At least, they aren't laughing", I thought.

Ignoring the pain I got on the yellow school bus that would take us up north for a three hour drive. I was sitting next to my comrade (I had found out his name was Viktor by this time). We didn't talk for the entire way. He slept while I daydreamed about having a girlfriend that would travel with me. It was raining cats and dogs, the windows fogged up and the ride got worse.

When we arrived, the rain stopped. We had lunch and started loading up the gear in the canoes. As my paddling partner, Alex, was loading up my bag, he dropped the go pro in the water. It was cold outside, but I knew that if I wanted to make myself a solid reputation I had to go get that camera from the bottom of the lake. So I did, everyone instantly knew my name and I was now the "crazy Russian" of the group. That's all I could want. From that point, anyone that had technical difficulties would come to me.

We started off after a little game of remembering each others names. I only remembered 5 of the 20. I was more focused on my balls freezing off than the names of the people I was never going to see again after this class. After paddling for about an hour, we got to our campsite. We didn't set it up right away because the teacher wanted to teach us some canoeing. (Clearly, some people were holding a paddle for the first time in their lives)

After setting up the tent, we settled on a small table with my two cooking partners, Justine and Adam (an interracial couple). Calling them cooking partners is saying much, they hardly prepared any food. It would have been all right if they at least stayed with me while I cooked. Instead, they went to cuddle in the sun, came for their food, took it with them and got back to cuddling.

A fire was built, the stars were looked at and we all went to bed. In the tent, the 4 of us obviously discussed the girls on the trip. We all concluded that individual L was the most attractive, followed by her less attractive but cuter friend whose name we didn't find out. The next morning we got up early, packed, ate and at 9:00 we were already on the water heading for the next campground. On the way there, I was canoeing with this... person. B was a big man, but a weak paddler. He insisted on sitting in the back. I didn't object, I hardly cared. Nevertheless, I was happy to arrive to the mid-way halt also known as lunch. That meant I could walk a bit, eat something yummy (I made rice and had a can of meat to myself) and above all switch rowing partner.

When we finally arrived at our last campground, we set up camp as quickly and possible and that is when boredom hit us. We had about 5 hours to sunset. If we took a name we wouldn't have energy in the morning. That's when I sad down with the two girls from the beginning of the trip who took a liking in my directness and pickiness of what I eat. They wanted to match me with their friend (who I actually ended up meeting). In the process, they asked a million questions about my lifestyle. They concluded that I was a perfect match and got all excited about the upcoming introduction.

It's only on the way back that I realized how beautiful everything around me was. The river we were on was surrounded on both sides by steep mountains which sides plunged into the water. Everything was quiet, the water was surprisingly still. I saw an eagle fly over me. I didn't want this to end. I wanted to be camping forever. Even the people that were there started to become tolerable (not all of course, but most). The last thought I had before getting on the bus and passing out was that humanity is lost. We aren't the animals that we used to be. We forgot what it is to be free. I had a taste of that freedom, but then I was shoved back into my cage. Our forests became concrete jungles, the rivers became subways. I can't wait for the disaster that will send us back in the woods.

Schönheit im Chaos

I started off with the need to find people that agreed with me. So I went to college and enrolled into a Political Philosophy class. The point of that class was to discuss political system from an ethical and moral stand point.

We started off with dictatorship, monarchy and anything that has only one man in power. Easy to bash on, that didn't survive a single class. I mean: "who is this guy and what makes him think that he can control us and make decisions?". Now Plato would argue that if that person is a Philosopher King, then he would make the right decisions. Well Plato, good lucking finding a Philosopher King in this century. Even if you do find one, good luck convincing him to be selfless to rule justly.

We then went on with communism. Now as much as it is a good idea, I don't believe people are selfless enough to be able to abstract of their own desires for the good of a better society. Plus, the brutal revolution revolted my fragile inners. Now that I think about it, those sitting in favour of communism had do idea what killing people for the greater good was - nasty consequentialists. As Kant said "we ought to treat humans as ends and not as means". Socialism, a more peaceful version of communism was hardly any better. It had the same problem of individuality loss. Yes, very beneficial to everyone, now tell me how it benefits ME.

Democracy was supposed to be the end point. But even there, I found that democracy had multiple unforgivable flaws. First of all, democrats are sheep. How could one blindly follow a mob in hopes of getting the best? Is the mob really capable of deciding what is best for society? A mob will use scapegoats. What about minority rights? What about urgent matters? We don't always have time for negotiations. This made me wander for answers and as someone who enjoys saying "no", I decided to try and say no to governments altogether. That turned out to be anarchy. Now, I solely believe that governments are a scam and laws are an indicator of our lack of morality. I'm not advocating for chaos; simply because chaos is a lack of order. Anarchy isn't chaos. Anarchy is order in total freedom with no leaders, a common will and no loss of individuality

Hoppar

I was taken away from my usual duty of being nice to girls and telling stories at the campfire. It was time. We had to go. After marching 15 minutes in almost complete darkness up a hill in the woods I was left with one instruction: "Scare them". Nothing new. The usual drill. I had developed a way to "see" in complete darkness. All you need is a laser pointer. By shining it, you remain invisible yet you see movement. I plunged into a bush near the trail. I was laying down, listening. After thirty minutes, I started sweating. The high pitched buzzing of mosquitoes dulled my hearing senses. At least, I heard movement. The air got thicker, warmer. I felt a warm breeze. Something was wrong with that air though. I was laying down and that breeze came from above. I decided to shine my flashlight quickly, mainly to spot and kill that annoying buzzing creature. When I flickered on the light, I saw the horned beast's head right above mine. It yelped, hopped over me and ran away in the darkness. Shaking, I got up took a few steps and felt an invading urge to get something down on paper. I could hear the first group of children that I was suppose to scare. The mosquitoes were more annoying than ever. I could sense the blood flowing through my skull with each heartbeat. I resolved to let the pass without scaring them. So when they arrived I shined my flashlight to my face. The two kids yelled in terror. A droplet of blood spattered on my flashlight changing the light from white to red. The creature probably injured me during its jump. I fell to my knees. The last thing I remembered was the softness of the lichens against my cheek and the smell of moisture. It was going to rain.

Special Greeting

I decided that I was going to violate the norm of hand-shaking, saying thank you and leaving a conversation. Instead of shaking hands, smiling, thanking verbally and excusing myself, I was going to give people a respectful bow the way it is done in Asian cultures.

The mere thought of this plan got me stressed out. I was also going to make sure not to talk to anyone that is of Asian origin so that they don’t think I was trying to mock them. From both my family and my friends, I was expecting laughter and questioning of my sanity. However, when it comes to the reactions of people I didn’t know, I was pretty sure there would be an awkward silence, followed by an avoidance of my gaze and both parties trying to escape the unusual situation.  While the stress of this “performance” in front of people was manageable, it was situations involving a certain degree of seriousness that worried me the most (I was supposed to visit a bank that day). Despite that, I decided to stick to the plan and carry out a full day of bowing.

The adventure started early in the morning when I decided to bow to my bus driver whom also thought it would be a good idea to start moving his vehicle at the same time. I almost fell as a result and I could feel my cheeks swell up with blood and a clear sensation of shame. I looked around worrisomely, hoping that nobody noticed. Luckily, the bus at 6:50AM is nearly empty. Upon my arrival to school, I saw my friends sitting at the table, I approached them and the closest one stretched his arm out to greet me. I bowed respectfully and the group of friends busted out in laughter. It was hard to keep a serious face and I ended up laughing too. That was certainly encouraging because I didn’t feel that they were laughing at me, I had the feeling that they were laughing with me. When I told them why I was doing it, they all decided to join me in my experiment. Nevertheless, during classes I made sure not to be greeted by teachers because I was too scared of their reaction to my special greeting. I even hesitated to go to the bank. The fact that my business there was rather urgent pushed me to go no matter what. When I walked up to the receptionist, she said “hello, how can I help you”. I bowed and then told her I needed to see my advisor. I could see her lips tighten up and her eyes looking away in discomfort. She clearly wasn’t allowed to laugh. She wouldn’t look at me directly anymore and vaguely pointed in the direction I needed to go. While bowing I was certainly concerned about what people would think of me; as an introvert, I don’t particularly enjoy being the center of attention of everyone present around me. But after seeing her reaction, I felt very much empowered by the effect this deviation from norms had on her. Still, I decided that was enough and I stopped the experiment there without including my family in it (they were still sleeping when I left the house).

Despite feeling pressured to stop the violation of norms and act normally, I would say that I enjoyed the experience. Especially with my friends, I thought bowing was a way to get out of the boring routine (not mentioning that it’s so much more hygienic than shaking everyone’s hand one after the other). If it weren’t for them, I pretty sure that I would be so pressured into conformity that I wouldn’t have carried out the experiment for so long. I believe that is because we feel vulnerable and fearful when excluded from out group by behaving differently. The fact that my friends didn’t exclude me or rudely pick on this behaviour made it fun. 

But Wait!

I was furious. My teammate Mr. J wasn't answering my emails. I sent him a lot; while waiting for his part. In exasperation, I sent him a last email with my part of the PowerPoint that he was to add to him final version and send to the teacher. I still had no answer.
So I worried all morning. I assumed the worst. I thought that he didn't upload anything and that he wasn't going to show up at all. But when I met him, 10 minutes before our presentation, I realised that I owed him an apology. Of course, I didn't apologise because any decent person would have answered his emails. Nevertheless, he had completed his part and the presentation went well.
The lesson here isn't too trust your fellow companions. On the contrary, the worse you think the result will be, the happier you will be when things turn out to be not that bad.
I hate group projects.

Bloody Animals

The biggest problem at Dawson College are the crowded staircases that lead to the Lower Atrium. Apart from the simple explanation that there are too many students (5000 day students), it is important to remember that humans are social animals that like to travel in herds. It is rather uncommon for the Homo Sapiens to take a different route than the one the majority follows. As a field researcher that has followed closely these beasts and investigated upon the alternative routes to the desirable heaven called Lower Atrium, I can confirm that there are many ways to get there other than the main staircase. Nevertheless, these sheep-like animals take the same staircase, slowly advancing in a mix of smells and ape-like sounds that are absolutely revolting for my kind. Despite all that, I feel some sympathy for the inferior creatures (whom I must say are quite happy in their ignorance). It almost makes me want to help them; to guide them towards the path of enlightenment, to the staircases on the A,B,D,E and H wings that surprisingly also lead to Rome. But I don't. I don't do that because I know that it is not right to try to help the helpless. How sad, these creatures had so much potential when I first started observing them.
Don't be a sheep. If everyone is going the same way, that doesn't mean you ought to. 

How Clothes Ruin Our Lives

Unless there are some extreme weather conditions, I think that clothing is absolutely unnecessary. Here are the reasons with which I came up with while pondering on this subject.

1. Clothing is a waste of time an resources. Every morning we go through the process of getting dressed. That is a waste of time. Shopping for clothes is also a waste of time. Image in a world in which all of the labor that is currently directed towards the clothing industry is redirected into something useful  agriculture for example. Unless you're a firefighter, I don't see why clothing would be necessary. If anything, it would make searching people much more efficient. I can easily imagine the Subway guy (or girl) making me a sandwich completely naked. 

2. Clothing makes us preoccupied with our appearance. In the world where clothes aren't worn, nobody would be ashamed of their bodies. If you really think that's not true, that's because you really cling on to the idea of dressing up and it makes you uncomfortable to imagine yourself in a public place without clothes on. Furthermore, the absence of clothing would allow people to judge each other not by monetary or style worth, but hopefully by actual character or at least by body constitution (the way all other living things act by the way). 

3. Finally, I believe that human nakedness would improve our general honesty. Let's face it, in a world without clothes, it will be really obvious to tell whom likes whom. I personally see no problem in that. It would surely speed up the process of dating and would surely make us more aware and in touch with those feelings that we try so hard to repress by covering our body parts.

By now you're probably thinking that I'm some kind of nudist hippie. Maybe you're right! I've never tried going without clothes in public (yeah, that's illegal) but I can assure you that when the temperature permits, I'll be wearing as few clothing articles as possible. At home, I always go commando style. I recommend to everyone to walk around in boxers at home (or naked if you really have the guts). Why would you hide in your own house? That way, you'll get in touch with yourself. Hell, I wish I was comfortable enough with myself to open the door of my house completely naked when someone knocks. We live in a society with quite idiotic rules. 

Predictions

My overconfidence in matters of predicting behaviour has once again let me down. When I walked in social-psychology, I had a clear plan. I was to look at individual W, smile, but sit elsewhere. That way, she would ask me right after the exam why I didn't sit next to her. At least, that's how it was suppose to happen. Here is was probably happened instead:
I walked in class, saw her sitting at her usual spot and gave out what must have been the creepiest smile ever. Then I proceed to illogically and quite clumsily to sit at a table which already had 3 people. If I didn't look retarded, I probably looked quite rude. Nevertheless, I was able to take out my plans out of my mind and write my exam. As luck was clearly on someone else's side today, she finished writing her exam way before me and left promptly.
I hoped that she would text me asking why I didn't sit next to her. I had my answer ready, smooth and slightly complimenting, I was to say that she was too much of a distraction and that I couldn't help but to stare at her. And so I waited. And waited. It's only at 9:00PM that I concluded that she won't text me. Moreover, she probably doesn't care. At 9:30PM, I replayed for the hundredth time the scenario. By each replay the level of insecurity increased. By 10:00PM, I needed the comforting "Just let it go man". And so I did. I let it all go.
One cannot accurately predict another's behaviours. Instead, I'll live the day. Let's all live the day. Carpe Diem! 
Just kidding, good night. 

Valentines Day... I'm an Egoist Day

Valentines Day. I can't think of a more repulsive event that humans have created for themselves. Are we really that selfish that we need a special day to remind ourselves to love another person? I think that there shouldn't be any Valentines Day for the following reasons.

1. It's unfair for single people. They (we) are already aware of their loneliness. Adding a bunch of hearts all over the place will do nothing but aggravate their mental state. Anyone that goes about Valentines Day hugging people and giving out kisses is a jerk. Stop making single people more miserable than they are. Speaking of single people, I find it very amusing how people sometimes say: "You just haven't found the right one yet". Will you shut up? There are people whom will never find the right one! That's total bull to say "there is someone for everyone". Some people will spend all their lives alone. Notice how it's always the one that has a relationship that will say such things. The obnoxious f*cker is just rubbing his privilege in your face.

2. Companies make big money on this day. Was that expensive bouquet really necessary? Do you think that if you spend 100$ more your girlfriend will love you more? If she does, you got yourself a nice gold digger there. Hey, good new my single brothers, we just saved some money. If you're not single, take your girlfriend and go give to charity together instead of buying her chocolates that will make her fat and unattractive which will eventually lead to your break-up with her. At least, you would have done a good deed and your girlfriend will see how good and altruistic of a person you are (you're welcome),

One does never love another more than himself. We are selfish creatures and Valentines Day is just a confirmation of that fact. At the end of the day, why do guy bother buying girls flowers... if you know what I mean.

It's Prettier That Way

I'm a liar. I say that without shame because I take pride in my lies. They aren't harming anyone. If anything, they are actually making my life more interesting than it actually is; making it more enjoyable to the listeners.
In my humble opinion (not that I'm a humble person, that's just formalities... who the f**k invented such non-sense?) there are two types of lies.
First, there is the harmful lie. Those are the lies that will harm the person your lying to and eventually harm you. All I'm saying is this: if you cheated on your girlfriend, don't say you didn't. Instead, make the event better than it actually was! That brings us to the second type of lie. The fun lie. If you're in sh*t and you know your at fault, you ought to make your story as impressive as possible. Nobody knows that the person that you cheated with was so bad that you wish you didn't because your current girlfriend gives you such better sex? Why embarrass yourself even more? Make that event something you're proud of.
Here is an example. I was tutoring this individual, let's just call her S. Obviously, it's impossible to be tutoring someone for 1.5h straight. So much math would blow up anyone's brain. So we took little breaks discussing some aspects of our lives. Obviously, she found nothing better to ask than about my girlfriend. I told her I recently broke up with mine. She asked what happened. Now I could have told her the actual truth, that I got annoyed by her drinking and clubbing habits, but I knew that wasn't the story she wanted to hear. That's a boring story, nobody wants that. Instead, I spitted out a story about a lovely romantic relationship, full of flowers and walks under the moon. I could see I got her attention by how she would hang on to every single one of the words that came out of my filthy mouth. She enjoyed it; she was hearing what she wanted to hear. As I was getting bored of my own imaginative story, I decided to spice it up a bit. I told her that my other ex, whom I was previously madly in love with, wrecked the newly formed love in seek of revenge. I narrated a story in which my clingy ex destroyed a relationship by kissing me by surprise at the wrong moment. Pathetic? Yeah, I agree. But in all honesty, the story matched the level of the listener. For lame people will always want to hear lame stories. My best friends receive the best stories I can come up with.
For those of you who are thinking something along the lines of ''what an asshole'' I say (quote) this: ''Hey, Baby, when I write (speak or narrate) I'm the hero of my own shit.''
- Charles Bukowski
This is why you shouldn't give sh*t to liars. They are doing their best to make the story less harmful or more entertaining for you. Be grateful. 

Scheisse Mann

Well shit. I guess I complained too much about my driving school. I got an email today telling that the ministry of transportation closed their school because they no longer fulfilled the necessary requirements. This is definitely karma for hating so much and making fun of their accent. Now I have to continue my education (if not start all over again because those f**** left me without any documentation) at another driving school.
This is yet another example of how bad the services that we pay for are in this province. Clearly, to get my money back I have to go through a sh*t-ton of bureaucracy. Why do we need these driving schools in the first place?

On a more hatefully comic note, I find it particularly funny how certain individuals clearly feel a need to express their opinions in front of a whole class of students. I personally think there is something wrong with all of these people. Why would you risk being judged by the other 35 individuals present in class? It's not even worth it, we aren't debating, you're just exposing to the whole class that you're a smart-ass and that you did your homework. Nobody cares about your bloody opinion. Numerous times I was compelled with the urge of turning around and saying something rude along the lines of: "Please shut up, we don't care what you personally liked from this text, chances are, nobody is even listening to you''. I mean all the NORMAL people look down or pretend to write something while the teacher is asking questions to avoid being picked.
On the other hand, I'm glad these fools exist. They have saved me numerous times from talking about a subject that makes me want to barf. Human stupidity is limitless and exasperating, but one must consider that with limitless stupidity, we also get limitless possibilities of using stupid people - A fair trade in my opinion. 

Look!

I've been doing this lately on the bus because my headphones broke and I'm incapable of reading on a bus. I now find a particular pleasure in staring at people until they feel uncomfortable, but not to the point when they confront you (of course, there are some rare cases that won't be shy to asking something among the lines of "can I help you?).

I'm amazed by our 6th sense. Have you ever had the sensation that someone is staring at you? Whether that is true or not, there is a certain tendency, an etiquette of public transportation that dictates not to stare at people. Well I, Mr. Kot, have decided to break this unspoken rule and see what consequences would come from that.

The first thing that I noticed was that the moment my gaze met someone else's, they would either stare back for two seconds and then turn away; or they would turn away right away, just to look back a few seconds later to see if I'm still looking at them. Of course, I completely disregarded the fact that I was suppose to look away too. Both cases would look back at me to make sure that I moved on - that I'm staring at someone else. But I wasn't. They would try it again, look away and then look back, a sign indicating: "alright, you looked at me, now it's time you realize it's impolite". Little did they know that I wasn't going to back off. I kept staring at them.

After the third time, that's when the nervousness kicks in. That is of course, depending on the level of self-esteem. Those that have a high self-esteem (as I suppose) kept looking at me or asked me if I wanted something. These cases were rather rare and when the person actually spoke, I muttered a "sorry" and looked away (of course, I don't want to get beaten up). But those aren't the fun ones. The fun people are those that start panicking. I can see it in their eyes as they shift from looking at one object to another, and then back to me in a swift motion, then back to the objects... They start playing with they phones, they start agitating they fingers. I even saw one change seats. Humans are weak, so easy to make uncomfortable. Is it wrong to seek pleasure in such experiments?

Baboons...

While taking the bus back home, I had the opportunity to look at two rather strange individuals. The two "gentlemen" were sitting right next to me. Both had their pants pulled down. I hadn't noticed at first because both their pants and boxers were black. I deduced from that that they must belong to the clan of "black boxermen". While one of them was explaining to the other the concepts of seduction (which were rather primitive), the second was playing a game on his phone. The game was so primitive as his brain. It consisted of a box that had to jump over obstacles. Now if he were to play in silence, I would probably have hardly noticed them. However, this "fine gentleman" simply couldn't contain his excitement. Every time he would loose a round at his idiotic game, he would produce a sound that I found extremely similar to our closest cousins, baboons. 

Here is a video of what he sounded (looked) like. (Ignore 'Murican accent in the background)

Now I was keeping my cool, trying not to do anything irrational. I thought to putting my hand on his shoulder and teaching him a few things about acceptable social conduct (not mentioning self-respect in the way one dresses). Yet realizing how animal-like his behaviour was, I decided it was best if I just changed seats: I did.

Just Looking Around

7:20 – Bus:
There was a young adult sitting at my bus stop listening to music without headphones. When I looked at him, he looked back with a daring gaze. I interpreted that as "yeah, I'm playing my music very loud, what will you do about that?" Confronted with that look I immediately looked away. But then the feeling of weakness flew in. On the bus I noticed that there seems to be an unspoken rule. One is allowed to make eye contact with another person for a brief moment only. Otherwise, as I tested, the person will look away and then look back at you as if he/she was trying to make sure that they are actually the person you're looking at. Is this learned? Are these people aware of their behaviours? Or are we genetically predisposed to know and understand these norms? I don't recall my parents telling me to look at strangers for no more than 2 second. Those who don't have a book or a phone (there was only one person reading) to occupy their gaze will stare at one spot until that spot is filled by a body. In a very crowded bus, I've noticed that people traveling alone tend to look down. 

12:00 – Cafeteria:

Active observation: I immersed myself in a group of people that I knew but that weren't my friends. Since they weren't close to me, I was able to take notes without looking suspicious, they thought I was texting. 

That was the first thing that I noticed was excessive swearing. In order to emphasize an emotion or a feeling they used very vulgar swearing. As someone who values proper English, it was a bit shocking to deal with this. Is this normal? Is this how the majority talks?
It was clear to me that one of the leaders clearly lacked the ability to interest his audience by using only speech. To get this attention, he grabbed hands and gently pushed his interlocutors. To what extend is it all right to touch other individuals? Are there certain norms?

French! Confusingly enough, the conversation often shifted from English to French. French was used in a sarcastic tone, to make fun if an expression. This joke with the same expression was repeated by the same person numerous times. He kept doing that because of the immediate success. I was only annoyed by the redundancy of the joke. Their whole conversation was based on stereotypes. They spoke of Jewish people in a certain way, giving then very pejorative attributes. Then the conversation shifted towards German. At that point I wanted to leave, what they were saying was loud and obnoxious (or maybe I just sympathize too much with Jews and Germans). Right before I left, the apparent leader was bragging quite loudly about his past sexual experiences. While he was preaching, the other 4 people around the table were listening to him quietly, nodding. Was this a way of asserting his position as an "alpha" male? That's what I took out from it. The way he objectified hid partner certainly gave me that impression. To say the least I was embarrassed to be sitting with them, so I got up and left.

4:15 – Bus Back Home:
In the bus I was one again confronted with cocky adolescence of Russian ethnic origin. Since they all spoke Russian and thought nobody understood them they judged every single female person present in the bus. Do they have nothing else to talk about? Do they really think that if they speak Russian it's all right to do that? I've never encountered someone doing that so openly in English or French.

The Province Is As Bad As The Instructor

I'm taking diving classes. Quite usual, who wouldn't want to be able to drive around in a car? Especially considering that my family owns to of them. Now there is a catch. I live in Quebec. So? I'll tell you so. That means that I'll spend a fortune just to obtain my driving licence.

First of all, Quebec has now obliged all new drivers to take driving AND theory classes at a certified driving school. That means that I have to  spend 600$ just to start off my driving education. I was unfortunate enough to end up with this Hindu guy. Now I don't have anything against Hindus - I hate everyone equally. But this gentleman demanded that I pay 200$ in advance (before my first class!) and 400$ after 5 classes. Considering there is a total of 25 mandatory classes (of which, by the way, only 15 are actual driving), that's not very fair. Moreover, I had to pay 20$ to pass his theory test so I can drive with another person but him. Then, I had to spend another 75$ to get the card (thank you Quebec). The worst thing is, I'll have to take another theory exam and for sure, once I get my actual licence they will make me pay another 75$ - it's a different card after all.

Not only am I paying excessive amounts of money just to be granted access to roads of Quebec (which let me remind you are in a quite pitiful state), but I also have to endure spending time with this "instructor". Here is a list of complaints I have about his so called "services".

1. He is often late. I stopped taking appointments with him at his opening time because he would come in 10-15 minutes late. That's 10-15 minutes out on the street waiting for him to unlock the door. That's also precious time that he didn't give me back in driving - how could he, his next client was waiting.

2. The theory is a joke. He doesn't teach. A lesson consists of projecting slides that are made by the Ministry of Transportation. Even better, he doesn't even read those slides to me (I wish he did, at least I could be entertained by his accent). Instead, I have to read them out loud for him.

3. The "driving class" is also pathetic. We always go to the same place. Every time we do, I feel like a Pony. I could drive his "specific route" with my eyes closed. It's also not very enjoyable to drive 30km/h no matter in which zone I am. Terrible. I honestly think you can learn more about driving if you go go-carting. Not to mentioning that he will scold you for not being able to perform a maneuver that he showed you only once.

4. The service quality is terrible. He isn't capable of holding a conversation while you are driving. He will speak on the phone in Punjabi (or whatever language he speaks) and will seldom pay attention to you. This person doesn't have the character of a teacher.

5. I wouldn't recommend this company (UNIVERS) to anyone. They are cheap, they will ask you to pay right away and in exchange they will provide you with the worse service you have ever experienced.

This is hopeless. Quebec has made it mandatory to participate in "driving school". Yet another way of taking our money for no reason.