My Little World of Chaos

The two loves of my life

2006-06-29T04:15:00.000+09:00

Attitude tune-up

2006-06-29T00:00:00.000+09:00

I watched this dvd yesterday which reveals a 'secret'...a new way of living life and attracting what you want by tweaking your way of thinking. You can check it out here http://whatisthesecret.tv/revealed/

In a nutshell, it teaches you how to use the 'universal law of attraction' to get what you want out of life and it also teaches you to be thankful for what you already have. It's also endorsed by successful people and said to have influenced great people in the past, Einstein to name one.

I'm hoping Claudette and I will sit down together and watch this and consequently bring a positive way of thinking into our lives.

Stay tuned for the development...

I'm in the money! I'm in the money!

2006-06-27T23:33:00.000+09:00

***Caution: gratuitous plug ahead***

Ok. So I'm not about to hang up my graphic design mouse anytime soon.

I received an email from Cafepress.com saying I had some earning from my t-shirt designs that are available online through their website (http://www.cafepress.com/kwesidesigns). I admit some of the designs are corny or meant as inside jokes, but the baby wear is what's selling so far. In the month of May and June I've sold 29 Barf Vader bibs and Stormpooper creepers! If word gets around this could be a lucrative run until Lucas sends me a CAD letter (cease and desist). Until then, shop away my dear American friends...

I swear it was thiiiiiiiis big

2006-06-26T22:42:00.000+09:00

Well, I've discovered a new passion for fishing and in the same process, one more thing for Claudette to complain about.

Yep, the stereotypical scenario of 'husband goes fishing, husband leaves wife and kid behind, husband comes back from fishing excursion, fishing excursion is brought back as back-up ammunition in later arguments'.

Ok, it's not like I've been going every weekend lately, but I am now privy to 'the look' anytime I mention the possibility of going fishing.

It's primal. Must....kill....animal....to feed....family. Or then again, just hang out on a boat, drink a few beers, smoke a few cigs, shoot the shit with Dom and his friend Jay, and reel in the occasional, tasty victim. Oh yeah, and catch in the scenery.

The unfortunate thing about this 'sport' is that you need patience. You're not there to power-fish in 30 minutes and get off the lake. Sacha can last 30 minutes, as I witnessed this weekend. After he caught his first bass ever, he preferred drinking 'de l'eau spéciale' (Perrier) rather than try his luck again. Actually, he had no clue he had caught a fish since the line from his nifty Batman rod did all the work. I saw the rod moving around the boat, grabbed the line in my hands and felt a fish at the other end. Sacha reeled 'er in and was quite impressed with his catch (that amazement lasted approx. 14 seconds, then it shifted to the bubbles in his eau spéciale). He then laid his head down and that was the cue to head back to the cottage.

Claudette, on the other hand, has yet to demonstrate her fishing abilities. She'll have her chance this weekend at my dad's cottage. Who knows, she might actually like it if she lands her first big fish.

I'd really like her to enjoy fishing. In a perfect world she would beg me to go fishing and then when she would catch one, she would then proceed to perform reiki on her catch in order to tenderize it before it hits the frying pan.

And they say us pisces are dreamers...

Hand me the keys...I'm driving away in this one

2006-06-24T03:55:00.003+09:00

This morning on my to work, I tried remembering all the vehicles I've owned over the years. Here's the list from the earliest on, give or take one or two.

1) 1979 Oldsmobile Cutlass Cruiser Braugham that my dad sold to me (olive green station wagon - aka the mean, green cruisin' machine with the obligatory fake wood paneling)

2) 1977 Toyota Celica GT (my all-time favourite car!)

3) 1984 Honda Accord

4) 1982 Toyota Starlet (a gift from mom)

5) 1989 Kawasaki Ninja 750

6) 1991 Toyota Tercel (my first new car)

7) 1986 Yamaha Radian 600

8) 1976 Cadillac Hearse (yeah, yeah, you guys know I'm strange)

9) 1974 Cadillac Hearse (some call it an obsession)

10) 1996 Hyusung 125cc (my way around in Seoul)

11) 1989 Pontiac Tempest (sleek black exterior with plush, bordello-red interior. Was lovingly baptised B-FAB by Stuart and Suzy)

12) 1986 Honda VFR Interceptor 750 (the wrist injury bike)

13) 1982 Ford Escort (The Red Rocket)

14) 1987 Toyota Corolla SR5

15) 1989 Mazda 323 (one of my favourite) cars

16) 2001 Hyundai Accent GSi (another one of my favourite cars to drive

17) 1984 Mercedes 300D (first bought by my grandfather, then my dad, then sold to me)

18) 2006 Hyundai Tucson (certainly not a gas guzzler like Stuart and Suzy's Subaru!)

19) ... (my dream car)

Road Rage 101

2006-06-21T00:41:00.000+09:00

You probably would be appalled at the things I say, rather scream inside my car when I'm faced with dumb-ass drivers out there driving their two ton weapons.

My buddy Al would be the first to agree that 85% of drivers out there don't belong on the roads and in my world, if there's a 90 degree bend at your elbows when you drive, you should reconsider the whole driving thing.

I consider myself an excellent driver. Some friends think that I drive aggressively, but the truth is I drive assertively and confidently. 22 years on the road with no accidents is proof of that. Sure, I've had a few speeding tickets in the past, but nothing over 20km/hour and on highways.

My secret? Common courteousy and constant road analysis. When I drive, my eyes scan everywhere in order to prepare me with encounters with bad drivers/cyclists, and distracted pedestrians as well as darting children. I've avoided several accidents that could have been pretty serious in some cases by predicting other drivers' actions. Never assume another driver's move, but anticipate the worst case scenario instead (this works particularly well on Somerset between Bronson and Preston).

Let me share with you what I consider safer ways of sharing the road.

1) You're not alone on those roads. Learn to share lanes (i.e. you're waiting to turn left at a red light - your left tires should be hugging the median line in order to let other drivers make a right turn in the meantime.) You want to be in the fast lane on the highway? Great, because that means your intention is to PASS a slower vehicle and no to become one by staying in it. Yes, I know the speed limit is 100km/hour but that's not for you to control. (It might come as a surprise to some that our 400 series highways have been designed to allow safe road handling at 140km/hour traffic. This isn't to say you should be driving that fast, but it's ok if confident drivers around you feel they can drive a little faster then the posted limit.)

2) If you're driving in a residential area (slowly and cautiously), scan underneath parked vehicles for tiny feet (be them human or animal) that could possibly dart out onto the road at any instant. However, a crossing animal is not as important as the lives of the people driving behind you, so if you must run over a squirrel instead a causing a pile-up, so be it.

3) Intersections: never proceed through without looking both ways, especially when the light turns green. Sacha could have been severely injured if I hadn't adhered to this important rule! There's too many red light runners and distracted drivers out there.

4) Your turning signal: not an option.

5) Taxi drivers are like big exclamation marks on wheels. Their fare is more important than your life. I have no respect for them as they rate as some of the worst drivers out there. Drivers beware around these idiots.

6) Need to make an important or unimportant phone call? Stop on the side of the road to do so.

7) Your brake and gas pedals don't need to be used intermittently at 2 second intervals. If you're looking for an address, then plan your trip before you get into the car or pull over to let the other drivers behind you pass.

8) Drive 100 metres ahead of you as well as your immediate vicinity, meaning, look ahead an assess any bad situation that could arise because of others. This way you'll be prepared.

I could go on and on but those are my pet peeves. If you still want to call me an aggressive/bad driver, let's trade our driving history and then we'll talk...

This is the car I wish I had at times

So this guy walks into a bar...

2006-06-16T23:45:00.000+09:00

...and says "Ah shit that hurts!"

LOL

I think I'm funny. Others also tend to think the same as well. Claudette...well...she thinks my humour is corny.

It's true I use a lot of puns and tacky one-liners at time, but that's part of the all 'round package. It's like getting the rubber floor mats 'thrown in' when you buy a new car.

Nothing fuels me more than having a good time with friends and family. I love laughing and creating laughter. I act silly as much as I can. Once I get to know someone, it isn't long before I start using my 'material' on them. Claudette often rolls her eyes when I say a corny comment to someone else and she present. But what she doesn't know is that I get emails from friends saying that I make them laugh and that to me is gold. I hope they're honest when they say that and it's not like if I was a baker and made the shittiest bread in town and they would just chew and smile and tell me how good it was until I left the room and they'd b-line(sp?) to the toilet!

I wish I had kept a list of my best jokes/comments of all time. I should start writing them down the same way I do with the inventions. I guess that's what stand-up comedians do, but I'm not about to change careers anytime soon.

At this point your reading this saying "Ok, so, when is he going to say something funny?" Sorry, but today I'm only serving 'road kill and 12 grain' loaf...come back another day...

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL!

PS: I hate LOLers

Another one of Alex's crazy ideas

2006-06-09T00:00:00.001+09:00

Those who know me well know that I'm always thinking of business ideas/inventions or looking for a deal somewhere. I was also part of the Ottawa Inventors Association, but I left that org because it was nothing but a gathering of mostly wispy-haired geezers *talking* about invention (either their ideas or others) but not really doing anything about it.

This, my friends, is the plight of some inventors. You come up with an idea, you draw it out on a napkin, you share it with a trusted few (because you don't want people stealing your million dollar idea), you think about it some more, put it aside because you lack the resources (either financial or operational), it gets swept under the mind's carpet for a few years until one day, you open a catalogue and see your invention in technicolor right there in front of your eyes.

This has happened to me countless times. This year alone I've seen three come to life: 1) a child's mini Sea-Doo that can be used in a pool (my design was better as it was human-powered), 2) a special mitt for dog owners to pick up after their pets (my design was better, and I was going to call it the Poom-It), and 3) a show based on inventors competing for a final grand prize as well as recognition as a succesful inventor (my concept was better and included Canadians).

Ask Claudette about my reaction every time or ask to see my collection of inventions I purchased out of punishment for not coming out with them first - no, I don't have a Billy the Singing Bass.

Technically, I should be writing this blog from my mansion in theMediterraneann somewhere, but sadly, that's not the case.

My latest business idea involves renting out this huge water play structure I purchased until it's paid for itself. So far there's a lot of interest in it and I think that by summer's end I will have succeeded in doing so. Another invention I came up with is a penis extension device for fishermen. Before you get all excited and start paying more attention to the daily spam in your inbox hoping to see my name attached to a message promising 24 inches instantly, hear me out. It's just a method to enable fishermen to pee in or from a boat...that's all!

That's all I'm going to tell you right now because I wouldn't want you to steal my idea and later post comments on this blog from your mansion in the Mediterraneann somewhere.

The ball has been set in motion...and get used to this image...

High five! You're awesome!

2006-06-02T22:31:00.001+09:00

Within the first 15 seconds I wanted to kill her.

That feeling subsided and was replaced with wonderful, little inner voice feelings of self-acceptance, mental wealth and other granola-fueled terms.

Claudette registered me for this self-improvement course which I attended last night at the Ottawa Alternative Health Care centre in Kanata (hyperlink purposely left out). She got me all excited by saying it was about wealth and how to achieve it. What she forgot(?) to mention was that it was about *mental* wealth and not the kind of wealth I've been after all my life with the billion dollar ideas and all.

So there I was, among a group of 12 strangers who all looked strangely subdued yet anxious at the same time. What were they so anxiously awaiting, I asked myself. This guy (who looked like he might have been part of the famous 'Bill Gates and his crew before they got rich' photo) was sitting to my right and had his finger poised over the play button of a small sound system. Then, a female answer to Anthony Robbins, equipped with a cordless microphone à la Janet Jackson so her voice would carry in our 300 square foot room, gives the cue to our her husband/sound tech.

It all went downhill from there.

A latin pop song comes blaring out of the Walmart-purchased stereo and suddenly everybody jolts out of their seats and start cheering, dancing and clapping hands. OMFG are the first words that popped in my mind. Our hostess and inspirational leader/deity, Marcelle, is shouting for everyone to dance and go crazy. I get up, start a subtle 'white man' dance, and look around at the spectacle. It's important to point out at this time that some of these participants have been to Marcelle's sessions before so they know the routine like clockwork. I, on the other hand, have just been caught in some headlights on the 417. All I can think of at the moment is how to plot my escape. The door is 8 feet away on my right so perhaps I could do it while everyone is hugging or something like that. But then again, Techno-hubbie would most likely leap out and tackle me before I could escape Endorphinville.

Next came the ‘get to smell you classmates after five minutes of foolish dancing’ session, where she made us go to each class mate, shake their hand and say “Hi! I’m Alex. Thanks so much for coming out this evening to help me break through!” Some of these people were so well programmed it was scary. I felt I was shaking the hands of Stepford wives at times.

Anyway, I won’t bore you with the whole outline of the evening, but in a nutshell, I had personal one-on-ones with complete strangers about feelings and how I’d like to change myself and the world. The evening was peppered with enthusiastic high-fives followed by the words “You’re wealthy!” and “you’re awesome!”. I hugged people I didn’t know, made a crafty poster with glitter glue and markers, made frequent hand gestures to represent I had just learnt something new, and all I along I was thinking about how good my DiRienzo sandwich was going to be while I washed it down with a beer…or twelve.

I also kept thinking about how my guy friends would have reacted in this situation. I couldn’t think of one that would have liked this. Well, maybe one, but he’s into that kind of stuff anyway.

As soon as the last word came out of Ms Jackson's microphone I was out the door. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder on the way out for fear of seeing all those pudgy arms reaching out and wanting to hug me one last time. Sorry Eugene, but I couldn't bear look at that giant mole one more time like when we looked deeply in each other eyes during the 'positive energy transfer' exercise...

My life, version 2.0

2006-06-01T22:07:00.000+09:00

Mom told me I should revisit my life because I'm missing bits and pieces. Let's just say I wouldn't be a good candidate to collaborate with if A&E decided to make a biography about the famous and eccentric Alexandre Kwesi Larose.

Thankfully, my mom is always there to remind me of key events in my life like the time I pooed in a changing room in a department store, or when I asked this older lady if she was a grandmother and to which she replied "Why yes, I am! How did you know that?" and I proceed to jiggle the loose, crinkly skin under chin and say "Because of this."

Those events happened two years ago. Kidding...

All this to say that mom wants me to write positive things now. She says we don't have a war going on in Canada and we don't have natural disasters knocking on our door. Moms are always right...Well, almost always.

Mother's day has passed, but I still want to tell mine that she has been a good friend and confidant over the years. She been able to help me through difficult times, and was always willing to give constructive criticism when needed. When I was going through life as a 20 something adult and stressing out about life, education and careers dilemmas, she would always say "Do whatever you want to do...As long as you're happy. That's all that counts."

And she was right...Again.

I may not have a doctorate, two homes, a fancy Italian sports car, and a yacht in the Mediterranean, but I do appreciate the roof over my head, my frozen Delissio pizzas, and best of all, my wonderful spouse and child.

Thanks for all the advice over the years, mom. It has made me a mostly optimistic person (you wouldn't know if from reading my first two posts!) and I try to pass along this optimism and any form I can.

You rock, Lyse Blanchard!

Your son

Kwesi

Welcome to the Hotel Northwestern

2006-05-31T22:14:00.000+09:00

This evening, I claim my space back.

Over the last 5 days or so, our house has been invaded by little critters and their parents from various parts of the city and province. As most of you know, I'm anal about my kitchen and bathroom and this morning, I kept nodding in despair at the state of our house. Almost every square inch of counter was occupied by dirty dishes or food containers or paper products in the form of newspaper/magazines and bills. There's piles of laundry to be folded, floors to be swept, washed and debabyfoodified. There are toys littered everywhere. There are guest mattresses to be folded and sheets and towels to be washed.

I'm looking for a cleaning person today.

Don't get me wrong. I love having people over, but in a more controlled fashion with breather periods in between to set the stage up for the next group. Now we're looking at quite a few hours to bring things back to normal again. You wouldn't believe the feeling I have when that's accomplished. I stand back, look at the awe-inspiring scene and an immediate blanket of tranquility is spread over my mind. I can actually sit down at the island, spread a newpaper wide open without it covering 2 or 3 glasses, some half eaten toast, a couple of plastic grocery bags, etc.

Then I can relax.

My problem isn't so much the dirt. It's order I'm concerned with. I can deal with a light blanket of dust throughout the house, but I really like knowing where stuff is, especially my stuff. I'm constantly asking Claudette where this or that is, because she does this 'bag and hide' routine when there's too much clutter around the house. Everything is thrown into a bag and hidden somewhere and it's to be dealt with at a later date. The problem is there are a lot of these hidden treasures and most of the time the thing I need now is in one of them.

I'm at a point where I'm starting to panic because I need to catch up big time on some organising. I've got tools in every corner of the house, piles of cd/dvdroms everywhere, my garage is out of control, things need to be fixed and installed, etc. I just don't want things to get out of control like it did at my in-laws' home in Toronto and like it's starting to happen all over again in Aylmer.

My dad and stepmother were very orderly and clean to the point of ridicule at times, but I did, however, retain some values out of this, and the situation as it is now is driving me nuts.

I know I'm a pack rat, I know I'm always buying or selling stuff, I know I like toys. It's a part of who I am and I'm dealing with my demons about this. Time is what's missing to get me back on track. I would need two solid weeks sans famille to organise and sell and throw things out. That won't happen though, so I'll be picking at it slowly over time until the job gets done...

Well, that's my rant of the day. I will have more pleasant thing to write about in the future, I promise! Until then, I hope you enjoyed your stay at Hotel Northwestern. Y'all come back now, ya hear?!

240 Russell Avenue

2006-05-30T23:30:00.000+09:00

A strange way to start a blog indeed.

Why you ask? I had a dream. One of those weird dream where you re-visit a place you were once familiar with, but some of the elements have changed, new people play new parts, furniture isn't in the right spot, layout has changed, etc.

There were good times and bad times at 240 Russell Ave in Ottawa. A lot of where I am right now stems from this house I lived in for five years. It wasn't a rat-infested house like one of my friends (and also past room mate) Stuart so eloquently put it in his blog, but rather a single, lowly home in Sandy Hill which was in need of esthetic attention. However, good karma ran through the corridors of that house.

If it wasn't for 240 Russell, I wouldn't have met my great companion and wife, Claudette. Our courting began at the end of my stay in that house. It was a perfect way to end one adventure and begin another.

During those five years I lived with friends, met new people, had a gamut of interesting room mates, hosted many successful, themed parties (The Chicago Party, The Lime Green Party to name a few), owned and operated my own clown and entertainment business, let my hair grow long, and so on. I moved from room to room until I was in the biggest and best located one and crowned myself 'King of 240' as I had the highest seniority in terms of length of stay. I went through many cars, including two hearses, one or two shit boxes, and a brand new Tercel. I had some great neighbours and some that weren't. I had a couple girlfriends, but nothing good came out of those relationships.

240 Russell was sort of a right of passage for me. So many things happened to me in those five years that it formed my personality to some extent. It even had that effect on some of my room mates.

Every time I'm in Sandy Hill, I always make a point of driving by the old house to see if anything has changed... Nothing much has... There's still a bunch of beat-up cars parked in the driveway (and some on the grass, which was my spot for a while), some crap that would need to be cleared out like old furniture, wood scraps and car parts. The house still needs a good coat of paint and some new windows. If I manage to steal a peek at the interior, well, you can tell that it's still the same kind of people living there, carrying the torch of history, one life at a time.

240 Russell gave me Claudette, who took me away on new and exciting adventures and later gave me my beautiful boy, Sacha. I wouldn't have had all of this if hadn't been for that little, run-down house in Sandy Hill...