the end is not yet

Ian told me about this article last night, which critiques Why? by Charles Tilly.

It starts out interesting, when Gladwell outlines the four types of reasons people give.

It becomes brilliant when he ties it to restorative justice and relates the story of Anne and Anthony, a woman and the man who mugged her.

I've never come across anything that cuts to the heart of what restorative justice is all about so quickly and so powerfuly.

Why do I always get here and have nothing to say?

Fine, not always, but a helluva lot of the time.

It's like false labour or something. I have this driving need to say something, but then no idea what to say.

If I was being honest here, I'd admit that it's a little terrifying. But I don't know if that's something I really want to admit.

Guess where I am?

I'm at the computer at my desk in my office.

I 'took possession' yesterday and have been doing formal transition all week. Yesterday's big thing was meeting the university's public affairs department. Today I met the majority of the executive team for next year's student government. Monday I meet the vice-presidents of the university and maybe the president.

My first volunteer came in today to pick up some CDs to review for the first issue. (Thanks Ian.)

My production staff comes in next Friday to start training, which I'm setting up now.

Production on the first paper starts the following Thursday, with our first issue hitting stands the Thursday after that.

I'm ridiculously pumped.

I still have to edit my links. I'll do so in the next few days.

There is a circle of pink fluid drying on my right forearm, about an inch from where a doctor would check my pulse.

Underneath it is an itchy hive that shouldn't be there.

I used to get hives when I was a kid, but I grew out of that allergy. I was allergic to a long list of things that I've since forgotten. Except for the peanutbutter, which was hell because I lived off it. In the last few months I've had three or four hives.

The calomine lotion is starting to take effect. Wonderful stuff.

To help me figure out the problem, I'm recording today's food intake. I'll be doing this whenever I get hives. You've been warned.

Breakfast: Nada. Decided food was less important than being on time for work.

Lunch: Curry chicken and basmati rice.

Mid-afternoon snack & beverage: Layered nacho dip (cream cheese, sour cream, salsa, shredded cheese, some kind of cayenne pepper stuff and nachos) and a rye & diet coke.

Dinner: Spaghetti, tomato sauce (with Garden Select, red wine & ground beef).

Dinner, part 2: Ham, beans, sherried cherries.

After dinner drinks: Copious amounts of Amaretto.

While I know my time at Humber has made me a much better writer and editor, I feel as if I've traded technical proficiency for creativity and passion.

That sucks.

I'm copy editor this half of the semester and I'm bored out of my mind.

But, it's still better than first half.

Superjails.