Most of the time I just walk through my apartment and don't pay much attention to what's under my feet. Then there are says I'll hit a soft spot, and dig my toes in, and I'll peddle around for a few minutes just squishing the fibres and feeling them press into my skin. I don't think there's any deep meaning to this, just an enjoyment of a sensation. If I wanted to put meaning to it, I guess I'd just suggest that every once in a while you stop and notice what's right under your nose, or under your feet.

There were some, what to our modern eyes would seem, very barbaric and strange cults during ancient times and even after the start of the current era.

The cult of Mithras, for example, had a baptism-like ceremony which involved the person (male, women were not allowed to join the cult) crouching in a pit while a bull was slaughtered on boards above his head. The Dionysians would eat the raw flesh of sacrificial animals, thinking they were eating the body of the god himself. Followers of Attis would castrate themselves as the god did in the legend.

Times don't change.

It's been a long winter, long and cold and snowy and seemingly endless. But isn't that what we say every winter? I smelled spring the other day though, briefly, before it got bitterly cold and dumped another foot of snow on us the next day. It's coming. You can always feel it coming, just like that first breath of crispness that signals the coming on of autumn. Those are the two seasons I like best, spring and autumn. I don't like weather extremes, and spring has that unbending, unburdening newness, that special feeling of freedom and rebirth. It comes again.

What I have learned from TV over the past couple of days.

George Bush Jr. doesn't seem to know the difference between the words "payroll" and "payload".

Tom Baker as Doctor Who is still as cool as he was when I was 10.

Male seahorses carry the babies until they are born live, after the mother seahorse lays the eggs into his stomach.

Carved Chinese signature blocks were a precursor to the type system invented by Gutenberg, but there is some doubt as to whether or not the blocks are actually a Chinese invention.

See? It doesn't just rot your brain.

I'm going to make a concerted effort to get into Tai Chi this year. I've not done so, even though I've really wanted to, partly because of money and partly because I've noticed that I've developed a very unfortunate lazy streak. I hate moving. I mean, I just can't be arsed half the time to bother with most things. It's not a depression thing, it's just the trouble of actually getting around to stuff is one monumental pain in the arse that I would rather not bother with. Needless to say, it's got to stop before I become too lump-like.

I was just watching Star Trek: Voyager, and the captain just brought up a very interesting idea about space. She says that it literally means nothing, but despite it being that, being nothing, it is the very thing that connects us all.

It is a challenge, sometimes, to make a something out of a nothing, or out of that which we perceive as nothing, but it's not impossible. It's like finding the good in things, rather than only seeing the negatives or what's lacking. Maybe this takes work, but it takes far less energy than being pessimistic all the time.

I've been watching far too many of those home redecorating shows: the damned things are insidious. If they aren't tempting you with ideas you can't afford, they're tempting you with the cheap, quick, and easy, which you also can't afford or couldn't implement even if you could afford it. It makes me want to hurry along with those plans to win a huge lotto, so I can buy a house just to try out some decorating ideas. The patchwork, acid-trip, madhouse, looney-bin house... with a Zen garden in the back yard. The hitch is not having won the lotto yet.

I miss train travel. Every summer my grandmother and I would take the train to Cape Breton, stopping in Montreal along the way. I used to find all the stations we stopped at huge and echoey and imposing. They seemed enormous to me, like there was no way I could ever see every inch of them. I was in the Montreal train station a couple of years ago, and how perspectives change when you're two feet taller and more than twenty years older. The stations are smaller now, easy to navigate, but still some of my favourite places to be.

Bottled Up, 1

If you're like many of the rest of us, your cupboards and storage areas are full of empty jars. Why not make them into gifts? Not empty, of course, unless you know someone else who wants a collection of empty glass bottles that once held pasta sauce, peanut butter, and mayonnaise. An empty jar is not a terribly interesting thing, so why not put something inside and treat a friend, loved one, coworker, or other individual, to a nice treat? But what to put inside, you ask, and how do I make this "gift in a jar"?

Bottled Up, 2

If you know someone who keeps a journal, or who likes to write other types of poetry and prose, then the answer of what to put inside is simple: things to write about. Fill the jar with slips of paper, each bearing one idea for something to write about. What you put on the paper could be questions, quotations, or anything else of your devising. Each day, or as often as they are inclined to, the person you gave this "journal jar" to would take one out and write something inspired by what is on the paper.

Bottled Up, 3

The questions, quotations, and other inspirations could be thematic. If you are giving it as a Christmas gift, for example, the questions could all be things relating to Christmas or other holidays, or they could simply be a random selection of questions covering any amount of topics you wish. What occasion you give the gift for, and what you put on those slips of paper, is completely up to you, but I shall list some ideas for you later on. First, though, let me go through some of the tools you'll need, and some ideas on preparation.

Bottled Up, 4

You'll need a jar (or other container). You can purchase one new (dollar stores are excellent places to shop) or recycle one. Any type of jar will work, but you might want to use one that has designs on it or is made from something other than clear glass. Make sure the jar is thoroughly cleaned before you get started, and that there is no evidence left of the paper label or glue that was used to apply it. To help remove the label and glue, is to soak the jar in warm water for a while.

Bottled Up, 5

The idea is to decorate one side of the paper and put your writing prompts on the other. You would then fold the papers in half so that the written side can't be seen until the paper is taken out of the jar, and all the person you gave the jar to can see beforehand is the decorations. If you were, for example, making a jar that contained sets of questions about family life, school, the holidays, etc., you could decorate all the holiday prompts with the same decoration and choose a different decoration for other themes.

Bottled Up, 6

You could decorate each piece of paper differently. The other option is to use paper that has a peel-off sticky back, so when the recipient takes the paper out, they can affix it to the top of a journal page. You might decorate one half of the surface the prompt is written on, and write the question on the other half. Using a printer would allow you to make the sizes of the slips uniform. Measure out the size of the slips on the computer, print them out in large sheets, and then cut them apart yourself.

Bottled Up, 7

You may want to disguise the lid and perhaps the jar's outside. You could use peel-off sticky paper, cloth, paint, or combinations of other craft items. If using paint to colour over the original lid and on the glass, you will need special paints. Consult someone at an art supply or craft store to find out what is suitable. For the lid you could simply cover it with a piece of cloth, perhaps one that matches the colours of paper you used, or the designs. You could affix it with glue, ribbon, yarn, or an appropriate elastic.

Bottled Up, 8

As for the outside of the jar, it's a good idea to stay away from anything too complex, as it might obscure the jar's contents too much. You could do similar things to the side as with the lid; a little painting, perhaps something glued to the sides. You might wish to affix a label to the side of the jar (or the lid) that gives a title to the project. If it's a journal jar that's going to your friend Joe, you could decorate a sticky label and add the words "Joe's Journal Jar" to it.

Bottled Up, 9

Recipe jar: include the ingredients for a dish, as well as the recipe for it.

Date jar: a nice idea for newlyweds; fill the jar with ideas of things for them to do together as a couple.

Craft jar: fill the jar with the items for a craft project and the instructions to complete it.

Project jar: fill the jar with project ideas that could be used on their own or for a journal.

Jar o' comfort: fill the jar with wise words and comforting quotations.

Journal jar: include a matching notebook and pen with your gift.

An old friend once mentioned a proverb to me: "Take what you want," said God, "but pay for it." Basically this means that you can make whatever choice you want, but you must be willing to pay the attendant costs, to face the consequences. Goes for good choices as well as potentially negative ones, easy choices and the difficult. It goes along with all those proverbs and sayings that tell us that for every ounce of happiness there will be an equal amount of pain. It's the nature of the universe to bring balance from chaos, and chaos from balance.

List reasons to be (or that can make you) happy, one for each year of your age. The list is too long for here, so here's just a few:

Being alive. While there's life there's hope, after all.

A good sneeze.

Letting go of baggage.

A cold Coke on a hot day, and a hot tea on a cold day.

A compliment.

Your favourite film.

A hug.

A good night's sleep.

Information, education, and enlightenment.

An open mind.

Good conversation.

Good advice.

Friends.

That fresh clean feeling right after a shower.

Being honourable.

A scratch for an itch.

A smile.

Lonita is a junk junkie. She likes Stuff, and lots of it.

What is your most prized material possession?

My glasses count? They are absolutely essential to living. I couldn't do anything without them. Absolute necessity aside, I'd have to say my computer. It allows me to create, communicate, make money, and augment my education. Without it I'd be cut off.

What item, that you currently own, have you had the longest?

The knitted baby clothes I was wearing at seven months of age, when I was brought from the foster family to live with my grandparents. They're pink. Eww.

Status report. How is Lonita doing today.

I am in a strangely calm place. I feel good. Nothing feels too out of place other than things that should; there is nothing negative going on other than limited communication with friends (which will be solved when I'm done my latest stint of research and essaying); I am more or less content; there is nothing dogging or egging me; I may be broke, but that's not unusual; I am, despite lack of communication, getting on well with my friends. All's right with the world. Things are good, clear, comfortable, and proceeding accordingly.

I need an adventure, or something out of the ordinary to happen. Something without more negativity than is easy to get over. I've had little to say for myself recently, partly due to school, which sucks the creativity right out of you when all your energy is going to explaining other things. I'm boring myself, and if I'm boring myself, I'm boring others. This is not good. I have run out of stories to tell. This is also not good. Here's hoping I get some time to make stories, and enough words left over from my essays to tell them.

I invented a couple of new nifty words.

Crapteau

[noun]

The crapteau is that point during an illness at which you realise you need another nap because you can't fight it any longer. This feeling, as you know, comes and goes. Could be used in conjunction with my friend Max's word craptastic, which is an adjective describing a state in which you feel really, really crappy.

Maultitude

[noun]

Roman hands and Russian fingers, people who just can't keep their hands off you, groups of people engaging in orgiastic behaviour, perhaps could apply to flocks of hookers, or beatdown-based mob justice.

I'm offended. I was just flicking around the TV dial looking for something to watch, and an episode of Joe Millionnaire was just starting. They're apparently going to show some of the casting/audition tapes of the guys who "didn't make it". They showed a clip of one where the guy said, and I quote: Women are like parking spaces: All the good ones are taken and the rest are handicapped. I'm positive I don't want to know precisely what is meant by that remark, none of the defintions can possibly be pleasant. I hope he remains dateless til death.

Captain Kirk, and I'm sure I've said this before, is an insufferably, pompous jerk, at least TV show Kirk was. He shouted and was bombastic without cause and at the most ridiculous times. I know he was a stereotype, a character who was the product of the era that created him, but still, he was a jerk. He has people on that ship far better at most things than he is, and still he came up with all the answers. It makes no sense. And how could a loud-mouthed boor like that, be interested in Shakespeare? His character doesn't jive.

I'm just watching Antiques Road Show (UK version), and they're in Nottingham today. They just showed the most interesting item I've ever seen on that show; there's no way you could put a price on it. A gentleman had some scrapbooks compiled by his mother during the Nuremburg Trials after WWII, for which his father was #1 judge. There are photographs, sketches drawn by one of the Russian judges, and a whole host of other nifty things. I can't describe how incredibly cool it was. If you want to see them they're on the Galleries of Justice website to see them.

I got a nice surprise present the other day, a big box that contained another rubber duckie for my collection, a lovely piece of embroidery, three cans of yummy tea, and the crowning glory, a Summer Fun Cthulhu doll. I've always wanted a Cthulhu doll. There's something so surrealistically cute about an evil elder god in stuffed and plushie form, it's little flappy tentacles and cuddly evil body. Yes, I admit it, I'm a softie at heart, but not as soft as the evil one! I still want to get a plaid Cthulhu though, one made of Cape Breton tartan.

My nose is itchy. My grandmother used to say that if your nose was itchy it meant you were going to kiss a fool. When I was little that used to make me giggle, and I used to wonder what an itchy foot meant, what it meant when your elbow got itchy, or your eyebrow, or anything else. Old silly sayings are sweet, they're like verbal comfort food in a way. They always remind me of the days when I was young, before I became aware and jaded and maybe a little too cynical and bitter for my own good.