When my sister sleeps over we're up to no good.
My mom made some sort of remark about how it was both weird and stupid that Lebanon's flag has a tree on it because there aren't exactly vast forests in the Middle East. I started to tell her everything I knew about Lebanese cedar trees and the structure of the Lebanese government before the civil war. She gave me a hug and said "You know all these things. How do you always know all these things?" But I don't know the answer to that. I just know, that's all.
I could probably tell you just as much about the government's Indian Treaty No. 8, Japanese porn, the history of the CBC or the geology of Sugarloaf Mountain. I could tell you that Active Pass used to be named Plumper pass, and how and why it got changed (it wasn't because it's active) or the significance of the 8+ in competitive rowing programs in the Lower Mainland and Victoria because I wrote a bullshit paper on it and got 96%.
I could appraise your antique floor and table lamps and explain to you why clear glass made before 1914 turns purple when you leave it in sunlight. I could tell you all about the Victorian practice of making jewellry out of the hair and teeth of your loved ones. I know the difference between Mexican and Canadian sterling silver and chances are I can tell the difference between the two by looking.
I know where the very first toilet in my city was located. I read economics textbooks for fun. I could take you out into the forest and tell you the name of every single tree, most of the flowers, some of the mosses, nearly all of the birds. I know rocks too, both the kind you see outside and the expensive ones.
But mostly I just shut up because no one is interested in that crap and it doesn't get you friends or dates or laid or anything, really, other than weird thoughts in your head.
I had a dream last night that Lindsay had a baby that looked like, well, a baby, except that when it was newborn it could see everything, which was kind of creepy and weird.
I owned a spiral staircase in Cuba and damn it was one hell of a staircase.
I went for a bike ride through a brand new housing development in Whistler with my dad and they had paved the streets with deflated wooly mamoths. I wondered who was going to vacuum them all.
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