From : chris lloyd
Sent : April 28, 2004 1:16:36 AM
To : pm@pm.gc.ca
CC : chrislloyd5676@hotmail.com
Subject : National security policy intended to beef up defences and calm frayed nerves
| | | Inbox
Dear Paul,
“No f---ing way that there is a military solution in Iraq”
Sorry I didn’t write last night. Lately I’ve been waking up late. Mohanad is fed up, finishing up his last few tasks, packing up his tools and getting the hell out of dodge. Oh, and the above quote is from some retired US army colonel. Ha!
I’ve been feeling lately that I consistently forget what I was thinking about during the day by the evening. Like I quite easily become two or three different people in the run of a day, and they don’t communicate well.
A wrench thrown in the moving plans; Aaron is under twenty five years of age and therefore enterprise car and truck rentals won’t insure him at all on the van. I debated hitchhiking back to NB and drive then drive the van both ways, and find another way back to QC, but there are other options on the table. There is something alluring about hitchhiking, especially if the weather is nice, but I would worry about bad weather and lack of rides. Or catching rides with lunatics.
Got baked and watched a funny movie—Company Man—with Mohanad Friday evening. It has its moments, and the premise—a daft, bumbling grammar teacher fabricates a secret life as a CIA agent, then through a series of Clouseau-like escapades ends up initiating the Bay of Pigs debacle. It gets pretty bogged down with the far-fetched plot.
Started wondering about the point of making art at all. I mean, really, what for? What’s the point? I should go into the trades and become a plumber. Or an electrician. Or both, and combine them so I can work around electricity and water all the time.
Went for a walk this evening; a rarity, since as of late I am always on the bike (going to and from places, and not stopping to smell the roses, so to speak. Or in my case, stopping to observe intently the textures and cracks of the sidewalks and the city bustling about around me.
Don’t think I’m going to make it up to SSM to send this email to you tonight; I’ve ben feeling drained and overwhelmed lately. It is really nice to sit here alone and think and write and read and listen to good music and try to re-orient myself to what exactly I think I am supposed to be doing with my life.
Have you ever had Liberty yogurt, the good stuff, the 8%? (not to be confused with Liberal yogurt). I have been gradually going through all the flavours to ascertain my favourite—if indeed such a thing exists with me. It started with the mokka, and continued through plum and walnut, lemon and now mango and orange. They are all delicious.
Still no word from EI. I don’t quite understand why it takes four weeks to process a change of address; do they send the forms via carrier pigeon? Send a young rider out on horseback (on a donkey, more likely)? It’s not like we are talking about a ton of cash here, either; I don’t understand how people who had previously made slightly more than minimum wage are supposed to live off 60%. Say, how do you feel about a subsidized, guaranteed income for everyone? Oh right: Canadian Steamship Lines. Sorry, guess that answers my question, you crook.
Anyway, I’m going to try to get to bed early, read for a bit and then get some rest.
Had a good day at work today; sanded and primed the bathroom, and then followed Mike and Devan around priming and painting the door and window casings. Went to SSM after work and had supper with Melissa, then we took the metro to Mont Royal for dessert. We talked a lot about art and politics.
So my dad and Aaron are going to bring my stuff and the cats in the van to Montréal; I’ll head back with them on Sunday. I am thinking of activities for us to do for the few days they are here.
Am too tired right now to even double check this letter, and Sarah Fork is talking a blue riot.
-chris