San Francisco!

Hoo-rah!
I am in San Francisco right now at an Associated Collegiate Press convention with the Mars' Hill. It has been really interesting and extremely helpful in giving me ideas for the News Section both for this year and next. Also, I have had an absolute blast with the people here.
The first two nights, we ended up staying in the semi-sketchy hostel... we obviously didn't know it was sketchy until we arrived there, but... hmm... let's just put it this way.... when I looked out the window of my room, the sign in my most immediate view said something along the lines of "Larry Flint's Hustler Babes," or another favourite was "The Garden of Eden."
so we switched hostels.
'nough said.
The hostel we're at now is very quaint, and very clean... in order words, very different from the previous. Although, the previous hostel was not without it's highly entertaining quirks. We ended up staying there two nights (because we had already paid for two nights) and the second night a group of us hung out in "the Ballroom," a kind of lounge area, part of the hostel. We played several rounds of foosball, and Matt (Jenkins) got into some very interesting discussion with the table next to us :)

Thursday, I had the opportunity to walk up and down Haight Street, which was a lot of fun. We stopped at a place called "Amoeba Records," which had a very broad selection of music. I managed to pick up a Fleetwood Mac "Rumors" LP for a buck! A buck! Man, was I ever excited :)
Thursday night, we hit China town. I wanted to buy everything. Seriously. Sarah and I were on a mission to find the best-coolest Asian flip flops, but to no avail. I ended up buying a Chinese calender for 50 cents. I know - I am seriously raking in the deals :)

Last night was pretty low key. Me, Carson and Gabe had some good times watching America's Funniest Videos (Quote of the Show: "When I grow up, I want to be a vampire bat")
then I kicked Gabe's ass at chess ;) ... well, not quite, it was rather close. but we (me, him and carson) spent the rest of the night in front the chess board...

Today I had the opportunity to meet some top editors from other publications across NA. Very cool.

Anyways, that's enough for me for now. I will be going to San Jose on Monday to visit Jessica (Fralick) with Andrea, so I am rather excited about that.

~ kris

a post dedicated to my brother

this post is dedicated to aaron ostensen.
i have to say, for all the years that aaron has been my brother -- and by definition, that includes all the years of my life -- he has been quite the character.
aaron is a performer. and a competitive one at that. heck, the kid sells cars for a living. i swear, he could sell you your own pants.
i remember, when i was in high school, he would always come bumming money off me. and everytime, he'd show up at my door, same sheepish look on his face. and the conversation would start off nice enough. He'd usually open with something like, "hey kris, how's it going?" and of course, i'd reply, with just a wee touch of anticipating skepticism, "fine. what's up?"
then he'd move in for the kill.
"well, i don't know. could be better. hey, how about you lend me, like, five bucks?"
damn you. i'd be thinking.
"why?" as if i didn't already know.
"kris, i'm really nicking out. Like, I haven't had a cigarette all day."
boo hoo. i'd be thinking.
"i don't have five bucks." i lied
"yeah you do. I saw it on your dresser." damn. the kid had done his homework.
"i need that money for ____". Insert any excuse.
"please kris" (oh no here it comes :: b.s. alert) "I'll pay you back."
if i didn't give in at this point, he'd persist until i did.

damn kid. i'll give him that. he sure was persistent.

i don't think he ever paid me back. nope. I can't think of one time.
but honestly, in the end, none of that really matters.
aaron - no matter what, i love you. you are a great brother, despite your slick skills.
i wouldn't mind seeing some of that money, though....

a day in the life of aaron o. 

Bravery?

What is more brave an action?
To be willing to die for one's country in a war?
or
to be willing to die for one's beliefs?


For e.e. cummings' take on the subject of war and heroism, read
i sing of Olaf glad and big whose warmest heart recoiled at war

Chizzeck it izout!

Gizoogle - Fo all you beotches who wanna find shiznit

This site will translate any website inta ghetto slang.

Fo' example,
TWU's mission statement:

The mission of Trinity Western Universizzle as an arm of tha church, is ta develop godly Christian leada: positizzles goal-oriented university graduates wit thoroughly Christian minds; grow'n disciples of Jesus Christ who glorify God through fulfill'n The Great Commission, serv'n God n thugz in tha various marketplizzles of life crazy up in here.

do you know this boy? 

I've been reading

This semester, I have been pleasantly surprised by books.

I'm not sure if you have had the same experience as I did growing up, but I lived in a small, hick town and went to a small, narrow-minded high school where philosophy and Advanced Placement classes were literally non-existent. As such, growing up I had little exposure to good books. Fortunately, I did manage to read some Camus, Hardy and Hemingway, but writers such as Dostoevsky, Sheila Watson, Kierkegaard, Flaubert - never heard of them.

What is more, some good writers that I had heard of - such as Margaret Atwood and J.D. Sallinger - were condemned as heretics because of their non-Conservative-Christian worldviews or because of "bad" content (ie. swearing or sex) in their books.

What began last year with my reading "Madame Bovary" has blossomed into "The Journals of Susanna Moodie," "Catcher in the Rye," "The Double Hook," and "Fifth Business."

And I love it.

"The Journals of Susanna Moodie," for example: excellent collection of poetry examining the struggle between culture and nature, as well as illuminating the struggle for survival as a foundational part of the Canadian identity.

So what if the author is an atheist?
The themes resonate. They reveal truth.
I think that's good literature.

A Question

I have a question.
Why is it so difficult for us to acknowledge each other when we meet on the streets?
You know the feeling,
you see someone that you "know" or sort-of-know, and the debate goes through your mind: do I say hi/flash a smile, or do I look at the ground/the sky/my watch and keep walking?
Is it because:
a) damnit, there are just too many people that I sort-of know - I can't say "Hi" to them all.
b) I am afraid that they will not recognize me, and that my saying "Hi" will only create awkward situation for both of us.
c) I am sick of the air of superficiality that pervades almost every aspect of life, and, frankly, do not wish to add to the mire by engaging in a meaningless round of "Hi-how-are-you," knowing that deep down, I really do not care what the answer is.
d) I am in a rush and do not want to take the time to have a real conversation.

they say that hope is happiness

... today i drove to hope, b.c.
it was, to a certain extent, a random act, premeditated for a couple of days. but i really wanted to go. by myself.
it was amazing.
i drove through snow and freezing rain to get there, and when i arrived, i parked by the fraser river and read for three or four hours. i brought blankets and cheese and crackers to keep me company.
i returned, my sanity regained, my joy for life increased.
i found hope.

"they say that hope is happiness..."