| These are a Few of my Favorite Things... |

I've decided to compile a list of my favorite things. A collections of the things that make, or help me tick.

This is only the first part. I intend on writing a list of things that were influencial to me, or changed my life as well.

Here it is. And note that I strained oh so hard to narrow this down:

Food and Drink

Dinner: BBQ Pork tenderloin with corn on the cob
Pizza: Sausage and Pineapple
Dessert: Cheesecake
Cheese: Bleu Benedictine (from Quebec), Grey Owl (Quebec)
Ice Cream: Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia
Single Food Item: Sausage
Vegatable: Asparagus
Fruit: Wild cherries
Ethnic Food: Chinese, Latin. But mostly Chinese.

Restaurant: High End - Araxi (B.C.); Weekday dinners - Sushi Shop (Carlton Street, Toronto); Chain - Pizza Pizza; Brunch - Lady Marmalade (Queen St. E. Toronto)

Non-alcoholic drink: Vitamin Water XXX, Tropicana Orange Juice with Lots of Pulp
Alcoholic drink: Vodka Cranberry, 2 limes
Wine: Pinot Grig or Reisling

Movies and Television

Comedy Movies: Wedding Crashers, Spaceballs, Some Like it Hot
Drama Movies: Apollo 13, Garden State, Schindler's List, Forrest Gump
Action Movies: Speed, Air Force One, Demolition Man
Horror Movies: The Exorcist, Saw, Sleepaway Camp
Science Fiction: The Star Wars saga, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Terminator 2
Other Favorites: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Synechdoche, NY, The Prestige
Least Favorite Movies of all Time: LongPigs, Paranormal Activity, Batman and Robin

Comedy TV: Scrubs, Married With Children, M*A*S*H*
Drama TV: Scrubs, Grey's Anatomy, House
Other TV: Battlestar Gallactica, Hell's Kitchen, Survivor, B Movie: The Series

Music

Singer (Female): Feist, Tegan and Sara,
Singer (male): David Usher, Lucas Silvera (Lead singer of the Cliks)
Band: The Weakerthans, The Shins, The Magnetic Fields, The Beatles, E.L.O., the Cliks
Song: The Only Living Boy in New York (Simon and Garfunkle), The Con (Tegan and Sara), I Feel it All (Feist), Forever Young (Bob Dylan), Something (The Beatles)
Album: Revolver by the Beatles, Nevermind by Nirvana, The Times They are a Changin by Bob Dylan, Black Album by Jay-Z, The Con by Tegan and Sara
Album Cover: Live Peace in Toronto 1969 (John Lennon and Yoko Ono), London Calling (The Clash), Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (The Beatles)
Most Important Song to me: Time In A Bottle (Jim Croce, best sung by a Muppet)
Fun Songs that I consider guilty pleasures: Hey Julie by Fountains of Wayne, Diner by Martin Sexton

Literature

Magazine: GQ, Movie Maker
Fiction Book: You Shall Know Our Velcity (Dave Eggers), The Harry Potter series (J.K. Rowling)
Biography: Walt Disney (Neil Gamler)
Children's Story: The Lorax (Dr. Suess), Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Roald Dahl)

Travel

Country: Germany, The United States
Single Travel Destination: Walt Disney World
Island: Majorca
Dream: Paris, Asia, and South Africa with a certain somebody. Swimming with Great Whites in South Africa
Most amazing things I've seen: The DOM cathedral (Koln, Germany) Stone Henge (England), Fireworks over the Magic Kingdom from the roof of the Contemperary Hotel (Orlando, FLA)

Leisure

Sunday activity: Was going to Woodbine Racetrack (Go Big Red Mike, Go!)
Board Game: Risk, Trivial Pursuit
Video Game: Final Fantasy VII (PS2), Guitar Hero (PS3)
Sport: Baseball (Toronto Blue Jays, Minnesota Twins), Soccer (German National Team, Liverpool, Bayern Munich)
Place to walk: The Distillery District (Toronto)
Way to Relax: Fishing, writing, painting

Honerable mentions that don't fit into any other category: Tuesday night television, Realizing the greatness of Kensington Market as well as the rest of the city


More to come, as always.

x's and o's
_Remy

| Oh, my Papa |

A simple statement for the day: My Father is my hero.

Now, I know that most boys are suppose to look up to their Fathers. Not every boy, however, considers his Father his hero.

Our family history is fairly well documented. A trend that started before I was born, and hopefully will continue long after I shuffle off this mortal coil. I've heard stories, and seen pictures.

Dad keeps an enormous archive of photos which documents near bout every event, big and small, in my existence on this planet. Indeed, there are a large number of years where I do not appear in any of those photographs. A plight I put on myself by abandoning this side of the family for a good chunk of time. Truth be known, I often look at these photos and imagine myself in them. One of my biggest regrets is not having been there for Family events throughout.

The days that Dad should have been enjoying his youth to it's fullest, he was supporting his little brother and sister, working at a bank, and working hard in school. The latter eventually awarding him a Ph.D. from Oxford University. Suffice it that I will not get into the reason he ended up parenting his siblings. But he did, and did it well and still managed to come out with a bright future. A true mark of hard work. A true mans work.

He has saved me on numerous occasions. Situations that I got myself into, and he managed to get me out of. He put up with years of abuse about smoking in the car. And years of abuse from an ungrateful son (Me). And oh, if I could take that back.

As I look back, one of the hardest things I've come to learn is that I don't remember why my Father and I didn't speak. Or, more correctly, why I didn't speak to him. Not on birthdays, or holidays. I just refused. I was not always the most honest with my parents, being ashamed of what I was doing. Thinking perhaps that it, in some way, didn't add up to some expectations. Pity that, as I know now the only expectations where that I was successful, educated, and happy.

I do know that at some point I grew to resent him for leaving, the same as I resented my step-father for taking his place. Both points being aimless and dumb. I had two men who loved me, were willing to guide and help me and ultimately just wanted the best. Without my step-Dad I wouldn't have learned to ride a bike. One of the greatest gifts I ever received on Christmas, a black and silver Huffy BMX. In fact, I tore open the wrapping on that box in a house right around the corner from the one I presently sit in. A house I pass by frequently. One that, unlike our lives, has not changed much in 20 years. The deck and built-in BBQ in the backyard, one that my Step-Father built is still there. Without my Step-Dad, I would not have learned to fish. A sport which I know find therapeutic and relaxing. And still, instead of thanking him for those things, (Tony, Thank you) I learned resent. A started to look with an angry eye at the man that played Snakes and Ladders with me for hours the first time we met. A game in which I cheated by going up both the Snakes and Ladders in a blatant disregard for the rules.

I digress...

Even with my Father 'gone', he was always there. Never missed the chance to drive from Hamilton or Toronto to Burlington to pick us up for weekend visits, and certainly never missed the chance to allow us to drink Chocolate Milk whenever we wanted. He sat with us while we created scrap books. Hell, the man pricked his own finger with a pin so I could view his blood under a microscope. We repaid him for those visits by sitting at the front window of that little grey house on Appleby Line and cried while watching him pull out of the driveway. Perhaps it was the fear that we may not see the man again, or a way of acknowledging we were now back in reality.

Years ago, he took us to the theatre to see 'Demolition Man' and we loved every minute of it. He also took us to see Jurassic Park, after first viewing it to ensure it wasn't scary. Most important of the film-watching experiences was 'Apollo 13' A film which I consider in my top 3 favorites, and certainly one the sparked my admiration of the space program and all things NASA. Going to Florida not long after that, he surprised us with a trip to the Kennedy Space Center thinking I would enjoy it after asking 'so many questions about space' after seeing the film. One of my favorite photos of all time is my brother and I sitting on the leg of the mock-up Lunar Lander. I first saw Close Encounters of the Third Kind and the Godfather with him, both films lead to my undying love of film. Certainly part of the reason I want to make films.

I disappointed him, I'm sure, with my outlook on school. Perhaps because I knew I was smart, and could coast through. Not the case. It's a shame, really, that I never sought out enriched classes, or more of a challenge. I was happier to squeak by and keep my focus on writing and movies. But, I can say he is content know with my return to higher education. So am I. I am too smart to not go back to school, and go as far as I can with it. Way to smart. Something else I got from Dad.

Coming back from Germany, My Dad and Step-Mom picked me up at the airport. It was in the midst of the non-talking years, but there they were. The truth is, I wouldn't have wanted anybody else to come and get me. And I have since treasured the moment of sitting on the front porch in their then-Mississauga home telling them about my journey.

I owe my lovely eyes, one of the only features about myself I like, to my Dad. As well as my noise, dark features... a lot, really. I am, as my Nanny has told me, my Father's son. I guess this stretches from looks to demeanor.

Deep down, especially now, I know she is right. I will make him proud, along with the whole family. I will make lots of people proud. I am that good at a some things, as arrogant as that may sound. When I have children of my own, I will damn sure pattern my fathering on exactly what my Dad did. Love his kids to bits, always be there for them, make sure they live good, moral and most importantly happy lives. Never missing a Christmas or birthday. Smiling when I see them unwrap the latest video-game craze (As long as I get a turn). Riding Space Mountain with them the first time. I am excited to be that Father. The same Father my dad was. Though I will never pretend that I lived through as many hardships as he did.

I am proud to be a Morrison. I'm proud to be the son of the best man that ever carried that name. I will be goddamned if I don't do my all to honor all the things that my Father taught me, if I don't do my best to repay all the love and rescues.

I am, without a doubt, my Fathers son. And I like that. The man is my hero.

x's and o's

-Remy-

| Thanks Eminem |

I can't tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now there's a steel knife
In my windpipe
I can't breathe
But I still fight
While I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right
It's like I'm in flight...

..You ever love somebody so much

You can barely breathe
When you're with them
You meet
And neither one of you
Even know what hit 'em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling....

..Baby please come back

It wasn't you
Baby it was me
Maybe our relationship
Isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens
When a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is
I love you too much
To walk away though
Come inside
Pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don't you hear sincerity
In my voice when I talk
Told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball

- Love the way you Lie (eminem ft. Rihanna)

| Song of the Week |

I think it's time to announce the song of the week.

As this is week one for this award, the following are all first time nominees.

And they are...

1) The Bleeding Hearts Show by The New Pornographers (Album: Twin Cinema)

2) Wake Up by Arcade Fire (A: Funeral and Where The Wild Things Are OST)

3) Seven Nation Army by the White Stripes (A: Elephant)

4) Acoustic Guitar by The Magnetic Fields (A: 69 Love Songs)

and our winner...

I Feel it All by Fiest (A: The Reminder)

You know, one of these days I'm going to win an award for Handing Out Awards That Are Not Really Awards and are Also for Things That Nobody Really Cares About. Reminds me of the Best Facial Hair in a Supporting Role blog. (See past blogs)

x's and o's

Remy

| Bedtime Love Letter To Nobody |

" What do you want? Do you want things to go back to how they were?"

"Yes," I said. "Go back to how they were. Only better."

_____

Last night, I began searching for a finite cure to this emotional downpour.

___

Dear Self,

Time to get creative. You were always creative. Why don't you build something?

Love,

Self

___

So, in my backyard I began to build something, crazy as that something is. I made it from paper mache and carefully sculpted chicken wire. And you will be happy to know that I only poked myself through the finger with that wire once.

Would you like to know what I built?

Sit, sit. I'll tell you.

I built a time machine.

A wonderful contraption it was, too. The gas tank is made from discarded copies of Paranormal Activity (See, as horrid as that film was, it makes a surprisingly stable fuel canister. Also, discarded copies were in surplus, and therefore cheap. And you always want to stick to
a budget while building such a device.).

I reached way down inside me. And I filled that tank up with a thousand ways to say I Love You.

And then, a journey.

I arrived back with just enough time to kill my old self and stuff him down the toilet. Hence the reason they clog so very often (Sorry). I imagine I was on my last flush when you walked through the door.

A thousand straight hours in a office could not make you look like any less of an angel.

It was after I hugged you, I did something unusual. Something that made it important for me to make this voyage in the first place.

I talked to you. Not about the day, or how many times I burned myself at work. I started talking about me. My past, the things that shaped me, the things that hurt me.

I told you that I was never the best son. In fact, I doubt I would even make an honourable mentions list. There wouldn't be enough time to go back in time to right all the wrongs I did unto my family. I was absent, I choose that path. I could have been there, but I felt outcast. And why? I just don't have an answer. God help me, I wish I did.

I remembered how the first time I picked up a cigarette I was scared to touch it to my lips. This came after years of nagging my father to stop smoking, a feat he accomplished with honors. He would smoke in the car driving us back to Mother's. DeMaurier Special Mild 100s. Silver pack. Like smoking air. But damn do I remember the nagging. And here I sit. Can't quit. Belmont Mild. Nobody nags me. I wish they did.

I shared that most of the troubles of my life, I made. Nobody else. I made my life seem dismal. I wish I had not done that.

___

"I traced the cord back to the wall. No wonder. It was never plugged in at all."

-Blink 182
___

I spoke of the first time I cut myself. Not at work. But took a razor blade from a disposal razor and sliced into my arm. I knew a girl, I said. Her name was Laura. And Laura would cut herself. Deeply. She used to wear sweatbands and hoodies a lot. I looked at those wounds, and somehow decided that was a good way to express pain. Or at least redirect it. And it became addictive. A release. I never showed them off, in fact, I was very embarrassed about them. The few times fresh cuts were found out landed me in the hospital. My Nanny called the police on me once. She was cities away. That was the first and only time I've been in the back of a police car. At the hospital, I lied. I lied to the social worker who asked me if I was okay. I said I had no interest in ending my life. They let me go. Truth is, if Nanny had not called the police, I would not be here today. I had every intention of taking my own life that night. That one night is the only time I would have ever acted upon that notion. Another truth? I don't remember what was even wrong. I blocked it out, and lost it. It's only been the last year that I have stopped wearing hoodies and sweatbands everywhere. Laura was nice, when she was happy. But sometimes, I wish I never knew her.

___

"I don't know what I knew before. But know I know I want to win the war"

-Feist
___

Then I said I was tired. And we fell asleep on the couch watching Hell's Kitchen. But happy for once. Both of us, that a question you asked finally got answered. And that you knew there were more answers for whatever you wanted to know.

When I woke up...

___

"What would you do... if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me ears, and I'll sing you a song. I'll try not to sing out of key."

-The Beatles
___

For all the things we have accomplished in this life time, and how those things have benefited mankind, we are missing something.

In 1969, Neil Armstrong took a one and a half foot step sideways and forever changed the way humans looked at this world. As he stood on the moon, billions watched. United. It gave them hope.

Advances in modern medicine that can cure the sick, or at least give them enough time to reach out to a loving hand and say goodbye.

We figured out that pigs taste really, really great. And made happy a legion of burly weekend BBQers.

Most importantly, we evolved into creatures that can love and be love. Which is the cause of and solution to most of life's problems.

We can drive across countries, and fly across nations.

And I hear them say: "Well, kid. We've come this far."

Yeah, we sure did. Just not far enough to back up and fix ourselves. Make our mistakes right. You'd think with every mistake that is made everyday by every person, somebody would have sought to make someway to fix them. Especially when those repair jobs mean the differene between happy and sad.

I wouldn't go back to relive that moon landing. I wouldn't go back to see the Jays win the world series, witness the building of The Great Wall of China or stand in a field of Dinosaurs (mainly, because that would be dangerous as hell, but I think you understand the point).

But in a heart beat, with a word, I would travel this world, the universe, time to lay down next to you and kiss you goodnight. For all the days of my life.

___

"If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do. Is to save everyday to eternity passes away, just to spend it with you.... I've looked around enough to know that you're the one I want to go through time with. "

- Jim Croce (but best sung by a Muppet. No joke, look it up)
___

With my all

Jeremy
___




x's and o's

Remy

| The Strength - The Pepper Potts Anomaly |

I was, over the next little bit, going to examine strength. What it is, at least to me. Where it comes from, etc.

I decided to start with an interesting anomaly.

To sum up my thoughts on said subject before writing the actual blogs about them, I roughly, and without much hard evidence came to the conclusion that no one person is strong alone.

Then, I wrote this:

I look at Iron Man. Seemingly indestructible. Brilliant, rich and always gets the girl.

But who is Iron Man really? Tony Stark, right? A perpetual juvenile, always tinkering aimlessly. Hiding behind a heavily armored suit to hide or mask his on inadequacies.

Cue Pepper Potts. The strong, level headed female presence. Always there to take out the trash, lend guidance and most importantly support for her man.

Without Ms. Potts, Tony Stark is stuck in the basement. Albeit a very nice basement with all the latest toys. Toys that have the rest of us boys salivating over the pages of GQ's annual Christmas Gadgets article. What I wouldn't give for a keyboard that reflects numbers and letters onto a glass panel. The things I'd type.

But who is there for Pepper. She is fully dedicated to Tony. Even though Tony never wished this for her. Of course he is extremely grateful and appreciative, he'll just never tell.

And that, my friends, is the Pepper Potts anomaly.

Yes, yes. I know. Pepper has been in trouble and relayed on others to get her out of deep-water. But said water was always made deep by Tony in the first place. Does it really count if the savior caused the problem to begin with?

Ms. Potts is the true definition of strength. A pillar on which even the most respected and indestructible of Super Heroes leans. A woman who always has the foresight to pack the Suitcase Suit, knowing that Tony will end up in trouble or being chased by a large Russian with whips for arms.

The point here, is that there is no shame in needing a pillar to lean on. There is no issue with drawing your own strength from somebody else. Needed them for you, even if they don't lean back on you the same way for theirs. A woman like that gives you the power you did not realize was there. Gives you the hope to move on, get up, fight crime.

The problem is: When Pepper leaves, so does the strength. Then we are all doomed to stay in the basement, tinkering away forever.


This will make more sense with the next few posts.

x's and o's
-Remy

| Cut and Sew |

Getting ones ears, which were pierced and spaced, cut open with a scalpel and sewn back together to fix the holes that one intentional put into them is not fun.

But Six at Exotics, Thank you.

He did an amazing job, and everybody should go and see him to get something pierced.

In other news, only 8 days until my Canadian departure. I am not looking forward to it.