#80- Glasses

I was at a fast food restaurant the other day and the most amazing, miraculous thing happened; I could finally stand at the counter without climbing halfway over it just to see the menu options on the wall. I didn't have to squint or crane my neck to see the prices and then look to see the cashier giving me a look that said "Why do I always get the weirdos?"

Nope, I could see clearly now and it was all because I had my new glasses on.

My eyesight has slowly been getting worse and worse over the last three or four years to the point where I had to sit at the front of the class not because I really enjoyed the topic, but because if I didn't, the notes would be a big smudge on the board or projector.

I guess it had gotten so bad that when I went into the optometrist to get my eyes looked at a few weeks ago this was the conversation I had with the doctor:

Her: "Did you drive here?"
Me: "No, I took the bus."
Her "Thank  God! (After looking at my startled expression) There is no way you could see any of the road signs."

So I took a trip to the glasses store and now I can see a whole world I haven't been able to enjoy for a few years. Now everything takes on a more intense colour, an exciting sharpness, like a bold statement to my eyes. I can see words written on shop windows and the detail on clothes and fruit and other such random things. But it's the random things that make this world come alive many times. It is seeing these everyday objects in a different way that makes me smile and give a little laugh, like it really is some miracle.  

And I can thank my new glasses for giving me this second look at life, a fresh opportunity to experience things. It is like I am looking at some things for the first time, like the familiar has become the unfamiliar, like I am exploring the city for the first time. It's exhilarating.

For me, observation is one of the greatest strengths and experiences I have. Observing the world around me is a key ingredient for me in the things I am passionate about, like writing and traveling. So now that I have my glasses I can do these things even better and look quite distinguished while doing it.

So I am grateful for my glasses. I am grateful that I have the opportunity to have my glasses because many who need them don't have the opportunity to get them. I am grateful for the way they have opened my eyes to an entirely different world and that they keep give me a second chance to see things I have already experienced, which doesn't come along every day. And I am grateful I can see the world again with all its little phenomena and flaws that make it so amazing and exciting. 

#79- Sandwiches

Last night I had a dream about a sandwich. I don't know what was in it, but all my mind kept telling me was that it was the best sandwich that was ever made. I was so hungry too. But each time I went to grab for the sandwich someone would come into the room and ask me to go see something else in another part of the house.

I was never able to bite into what was surely the most delicious thing ever and woke up licking my lips in anticipation of a sandwich that would never come. And now I badly want a sandwich, but since I don't have the stuff for one, writing about it must suffice.

According to one website, dreaming of a sandwich suggests that "a lot of pressure and stress is being put on you. It also reflects your ability to do two things at once." Maybe I can put that on my resume.

It goes on to say, "Alternately, sometimes a sandwich is just a sandwich." I don't agree with this at all. A sandwich is never "just a sandwich." It's so much more.

Sandwiches show your character, your likes and dislikes, your creativity and your culture. For example, if I were to put anything other than my family's homemade tomato sauce on my veal sandwich, I would probably be disowned and made to live in a cave with only potato sacks to wear. That's because my family is proud of this tradition and also because it's extremely delicious to the point where I am now Googling veal sandwiches to get a minor fix.

Sandwiches are the ultimate mix and match dish that you can tailor to your own tastes. You can have fancy ingredients and bread, imported cheeses and weird sounding mustard or you can simply have a ham and Swiss on rye. It can be healthy, stacking vegetable upon vegetable on whole wheat bread or devilishly and deliciously bad for you (see the aforementioned veal sandwich with all the fixings). But whatever your taste there's something there for you in a sandwich.

So I am grateful for sandwiches. I am grateful that the 4th Earl of Sandwich was such a heavy gambler that he decided to create the food just so he wouldn't have to stop throwing the dice. I am grateful that sandwiches offer so much variety and that they can reflect the person that is making them. I am grateful that they can be enjoyed anywhere at any time. And I am grateful that they appear in my dreams because now I know what I'm having for lunch.

#78- Solitaire

Solitaire is the king of procrastination activities. Which is why, naturally, I played for 45 minutes before I started writing this post (and since I completed a paragraph it's only fair to reward myself with a couple more games).

It's the game that is at the same time mindless and intellectually stimulating. This makes it perfect for tedious in-class post-morts when I can reason with myself that Solitaire is more helpful to my cerebral development than class, but I can still answer any question thrown at me.

It really does train your mind on strategy and patterns and memory, which has to be better for your mind than playing NHL 08 for days on end (which I sadly have done before). It keeps my mind sharp when working late into the night on a project and at the same time gives me a little break from what I'm working on so I don't go crazy.

I enjoy Solitaire so much that I've played 2166 games (of which 401 of them are wins. Not too shappy eh?).  Forget about those new-fangled computer games that require the internet, Solitaire just requires enough power on your laptop to run it on low (good for those bus rides where internet connection is as rare as serious, potential owners for the Phoenix Coyotes). Or, if you're the retro type, you can use a deck of cards.

Solitaire doesn't have any flashy lights or sounds or graphics which takes me back to the good ol' days of my childhood where Game Boy and Roller Coaster Tycoon were the height of video gaming experiences for me. There is of course the fireworks and exploding cards when you win, which is still something that makes me smile with pride at having bested those pesky cards.

So I am grateful for Solitaire. I'm grateful it comes free on my laptop so I can whittle away the hours and stave off boredom on long trips on the Greyhound or while waiting between appointments and classes. I'm grateful it actually hones some skills like memory and pattern realization. And I'm grateful that such a simple game can mute the bells and whistles in my head in a few short minutes during stressful times.  

#77- Calling Cards

I was getting so jealous of my girlfriend being in Paris that I picked up a calling card and dialled her number yesterday in hopes of getting a slight whiff of intoxicating crepe aroma or catching the sound of a man serenading cafe-goers with an accordion.

All I ended up smelling was my running clothes I was too lazy to put away and the sound filling my room was the pesky little squirrel who sits outside my window and yells at odd hours of the day and night.

But the call gave me something much more special than crepe odors and musically inclined Frenchmen. It gave me the chance to talk to my girlfriend and hear about her trip.

It was great to hear the excitement in her voice when she was telling me about seeing the Eiffel Tower or the anticipation as she talked about plans to travel outside the city. Not to mention that it was really helpful to learn how to skip a four hour line and get into the Louvre for free.

And it was all thanks to that calling card I picked up.

The way we can travel now in days has always induced wonder in me. You can fall asleep in one continent and wake up in another. But what is just as amazing is how we can communicate over such large distances, it's like magic. I can pick up a card, any card (as long as it's an international calling card) and be talking to someone thousands of kilometres away as if they were beside me.

This connection brings us closer together than ever before. We can share so many things with people we've never met or those we have known our entire lives. It's an amazing opportunity to learn, to love and to explore and the small card I bought at the corner store down the street is where it all starts.

So I am grateful for calling cards. I am grateful they are a gateway to whole other cultures and experiences a world away. I am grateful they can act as a line to those I care about and that it can be a tool to open up my imagination with their stories. They may not be your typical greeting cards, but they welcome you to a world of possibilities. 

#76- New Running Shoes

I knew something was wrong when I couldn't feel my foot.

It was after one of my morning runs last week and I had sprinted the last hundred metres, but when I stopped I nearly fell flat on my face because my right foot felt like a block of cement strapped to my leg.

I came to the conclusion, after months of denial, that my three-year-old training shoes had come to the end of their lifespan.

Those shoes had been with me through a lot. From lacing up with me as I ran down the beautiful Rideau Canal to the snow-dusted paths on campus and the goose-filled park near my house in Toronto.

But they were starting to become a pain in the Achilles Tendon.

So I made the trip to the running store over the weekend to find myself a pair of trainers that wouldn't have me hobbling around.

And after a few solid runs in my new shoes I love them.

They are snug, comfortable and even make me look good while I run down the streets (although I may be a bit delusional about that last bit as I frequently envision myself running in epic slow motion with the soundtrack from Chariots of fire in the background).

But really, they are a great pair of shoes that allow me to go out and get some exercise (those Beaver Tails can really weigh on a guy), explore my community, soak up the great weather we've been having here (no really, there is such a thing as good weather in Ottawa) and most importantly do something I love; run.

Running has been a part of my life for a really long time. It's something I've done with friends, family and in my own peaceful world. It's something that keeps me active and challenges me and makes me feel a natural high (I try reminding myself of this point when I'm cursing a particularly long hill or a stiff breeze coming in my direction as I run). My shoes help me do all this. They are the vehicle for this activity in my life that brings so much happiness.

So I am grateful for my new running shoes. I am grateful they allow me to run comfortably and safely and  give me the chance to do something that is good for my body and mind. I'm grateful I have them as a tool to challenge me in new ways and hopefully make myself a better person.

#75- The Penny

It is time to say goodbye to long standing Canadian icon. A constant in this nation since before Confederation. A small token with a powerful symbol. Today the Canadian Mint made their last penny and it's a sad day.

Yes that weird jingle when I walk down the street is from the scores of pennies in my pocket and sure I have mountains of the copper coin stacked all over my room and getting in the way. In short, I, like many in this country, sometimes see pennies as a nuisance, but they've meant something special to me since my five-year-old self was given a handful of shiny cents as my first ever payday.

Since that day when I quickly stuffed the pennies into my Power Rangers wallet, the little coins meant a sense of hope, an opportunity, a door to something new and fascinating. I was finally part of the adult world where I had money, I had responsibility, I had the option of buying the Sour Keys or Fuzzy Peaches or saving up and splurging on an Air Head candy.

And I'm sure everyone remembers how amazing it was to pick up a dropped penny as a kid. The glint of the coin was piece of sunshine in your day, a slice of good luck to hold tight. That's why whenever I see one on the street or the ground I'm tempted to pick it up and relive this childlike sense of wonder, optimism and bliss. But I stop myself, smile and leave it for someone else to experience those feelings (dimes and quarters are another story; hey an unemployed, recent grad has got to eat right?).

I've heard a few of the economic arguments for and against eliminating the penny, but the real pro of having the coin around is to remember these positive feelings that we all lose sight of sometimes as we grow up and see the tough things the world has to offer. It's the opportunity of the penny, the way they can band together to make a difference, what they represent that can teach us a thing or two.

So I am grateful for the penny. I am grateful for the positive way it has made me see the world and for those times when it has meant, quite simply, a small piece of optimism in my day. The penny will no longer be made in Canada, but it will still live on in my memories and scattered around the nooks and crannies of my room.

#74- Nuga the Dog

What is one of the best things that can greet me after a particularly stressful day or one of Ottawa's patented, teeth-cracking, horribly cold winter days?

Not a warm cup of tea, nor a particularly soothing playlist. A comfy spot underneath my covers pales in comparison and a nice book is a close second.

No, the real thing that cheers me up as I arrive home after a tough day is the sight of Nuga the dog.

Nuga is the little pug of a dog that lives a few doors down from me that my mother accidently identified as a pig while moving in last summer. At the time I wondered what kind of neighbourhood I was moving into and where I could get such a pet. Now I wonder when I will get to see the little guy again.

Whenever I am walking down the street and cross Nuga's path he greets me with an emphatic lick of his tongue, swiping paws on my legs and a flurry of excited snorts that I can only assume is the sound of a friendly greeting (and which sound oddly like a pig. Hmmmm).

He is always so happy to see me, no matter the circumstance. Rain or shine, hot or cold, triumph or trial, Nuga is always there to give me a happy greeting. When I am doing my strides after a tough run and my chest hurts, my legs feel like cement and my brain feels like it might spill onto the street I look up and see Nuga at the window of his house, panting at the window, eager to play.

It is this kind of unconditional friendship that makes animals so comforting even on the toughest days. It is this love that makes Nuga one of the brightest beacons, even in the darkest hours.

So I am grateful for Nuga the dog. I am grateful that even after the briefest encounters with him I am left smiling for a long time. I am grateful for his unending enthusiasm and optimism. And I am grateful that he gives me all this without even asking for anything in return, except a pat on the head and the chance to bury his snorting nose into my hands for a second or two.