held to the past, too aware of the pending.

It looks like I will be spending Christmas in Lake Louise with Meagan, the Quebec boys, Tweeter (hopefully) and a friend that I haven't seen since HIGH SCHOOL that I ran into at the mall the other night.

Life is pretty boring lately. It was my day off and I almost wish that I could have gone into work.

For my New Years resolution I'm going to try and be more punctual. If you know me, you know that this isn't one of my strong points. Its strange because I used to be early or on time for everything when I was younger. I think it changed when I started going to college for one reason or another. I always leave everything to the last minute and I'm tired of running after the bus.

I'm definitely going to add to this list as I think of other stuff. I'll be lucky if I follow through with one of these things.

In other news, I'm reading On The Road by Jack Kerouac right now. Its brilliant and its just what I need.

I've also been feeling somewhat inspired as of late. I wrote something for the first time in years. Its crap and it will never see the light of day but it made me feel accomplished nonetheless. Its a shame that I only feel like writing when I'm feeling negative in one way or another. Whatever works I suppose.

With that I leave you with some excerpts from On The Road.

Cheers!

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."

"I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was--I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creek of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost. I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future."