Cheers to the freakin' weekend

Over the past 7 months, I have become drunk more often than the past 3 something-ish years of my life in Canada. Here's the plaintext.

This year in university was what I could say the most exhilarating year I have been on. After being included in someone's circle of friends (who I just met online too), I found myself going to house parties, making friends with people I barely knew, and having to pretend to be sick because I'm way hung over.

I met my buddy Brandon over our university confessions page. He had an interestingly awesome last name, so I added him on Facebook. It was only until the first few minutes of sending the request that I realized that this is the boyfriend of our family friend's sister. I was mortified. I very rarely add family friends as "friends" on any of my social media profiles, let alone my own relatives. But I went with the flow and let everything take its course.

He went to my other friend's Halloween party, and that's where it all started. He met a guy in the party who I shook hands with as well, and found out that he throws awesome parties. I went to one, initially awkward at what mess I'm in, going to a party where I knew only one person.

Alcohol made it tons easier for me to say hi to random people, shake their hands, and talk with. I decided to bring a camera to one of his parties. Halfway through the night, I began taking pictures with my hefty DSLR, fueled by my alcohol-induced mind. I was a shutterbug. I took some 200ish pictures, and the next day gave me great surprises.

Looking from the shots the previous night, I instinctively knew when to shoot, and at what angle to do it. I was shocked at how perfectly candid all my pictures were, and I pretty much documented every nook and cranny of the party. I posted them on my profile, and as they set my pictures as their profile and cover photos, I believe that they thought the same. I decided drunk pictures are a good idea, and I lugged along my trusty camera to house parties ever since.

I went from being a random unknown university boy to a guy who regularly gets invitations to go out for drinks. Sometimes, I wonder what it would have been like if I did not add this boy who's the boyfriend of our family friend's sister on Facebook.

I would probably still be skulking on my bed every weekend, typing how alone I am in this tundra. Before, I asked for even just an acquaintance, a small set of friends I can maybe go for a Starbucks with. Now, I have hundreds of them. I can literally post on my Facebook profile and send 80 people knocking at a door, ready to party.

They might not be "share-secrets-with" friends [at least not yet], but hey, you cannot turn down alcohol and all its wonders. After all, misery is best shared with company, eh?

Hello, old friend.

I'm back. And as always, here's the plaintext.

I have written on this blog 7 months ago, and I can say that indeed, a lot have (has? I can't English) changed since then. My last post was about my little Dungeons and Dragons group. It has been a while, but this summer, I have to leave the group temporarily to fulfill the demanding requirements of a new job I have just gotten.

I am back in the material handling and warehouse industry. Two summers ago, I was working for Federated Co-Operatives as an order picker for their warehouse. My supervisor gave me a picture on how I fit in the system, and what I do is I pack the grocery, produce, and dairy supplies of every Co-Op store in Saskatchewan.

I lift boxes. And put them in a pallet. For 8 hours. And if that sounds easy enough, just think that these pallets have to be the same height as me with my hands raised. Filled with all kinds of boxes. And I have to get 85 items an hour, no matter how many cases they want (100 boxes of pop? That's just one item. 84 more to go in the next 60 minutes)

Yes, I work in something similar to this.
Orange and blue as far as the eye can see.

But yeah. Now I work in an eternal -2 degrees Celsius (which is fine by me, due to the sweltering summers coming up)... a little sacrifice I have to make to get a little luxury in life. I get paid way above minimum for lifting up to 50 pounds repeatedly (which is a nice workout for someone as scrawny as I am). I tend to look at the positive things before I start on the 5th, and not look at the fact that I will be exhausted by the end of my shift, and that I won't be able to see my Pathfinder group all summer, and that I have to say goodbye to all the familiar faces and friends I made while I was toasting buns at McDonald's.

It's good to be back here in my blog. It's been a long 7 months, and a lot has (have?) changed.