What it means to be a man

Caught between a lie and some one I was trying to be, I lost that voice deep down inside of me.

What it means to be a man.

It doesn’t mean to drive the fastest car.

It doesn’t mean to be that guy at the bar

It doesn’t mean you’re always right

It doesn’t mean not being there

To be a man is to be loyal to her

To be man you must put down the walls and let her in

To be a man you must see her as equal

To be a man is to be there when she needs you most

To be a man is not to make her cry

To be a man you must be bigger then temptation

To be a man you must be weak

To be a man she must know you will always be there and not run away. She must know the words that only she wants you to say I LOVE YOU!

Where did my saved by the bell years go???

My favourite purple shirt is lying on the floor and I’m writing this column on a chair instead of a desk. Filled with nothing but a diet coke and expectations, I can’t help but wonder where my Saved by the Bell years went.
It’s a very well known secret that I view my time passed as seasons from my favourite show. First there was Saved by the Bell: The Early Years, where recess was my only concern. Then came the high school years where I barely graduated and spent most of my time riding low in my chair. And of course, the college years, where not only did faces change, but so too did the set and what it meant to be the star in my own life.


Like a twister ripping through Kansas, or Jack Skellington stealing Christmas, few things can wreak havoc like age. Time does change everything. Nothing stands still. I’m twenty seven now, yet still feel deep inside like I’m fourteen. My room is a mess, I still believe in the Easter bunny and sometimes, I eat cookies for dinner! I suppose that’s the great joke of life - that as we age on the outside as people, responsibilities and jobs change, that child inside laughs as Mr or Mrs goes in front our full name.

So as the beauty of my innocence is sold for the days of experience, one day I’ll return to a place I once forgot and wonder how life passed by so quickly. And where oh where did my good friend Screech go?

I HATE FACEBOOK

I hate Facebook and yet strangely can't tear myself away from it? Like a stray dog who has found a nice family who occasionally feeds me, I know I should leave but it’s so easy to stay. Don't get me wrong, I love the idea of being able to connect with friends and family who normally would have slid from my life like a five year old on a greasy slide. But seriously, we have turned our lives into a tabloid magazine and sadly no one is paying us for our first born or wedding pictures! Move over Brangelina and Britney, here comes the high school sweethearts’ break up, Cuba pics from the girl you used to have math class with, and the group invite from the guy 3 cubicles down from you.So how did we get here? How did we go from flirting to poking? When did honesty become an application and how did writing on my wall actually become a form of communication? How should I know... I'm still trying to figure out where ICQ went!Is Facebook the enemy? I doubt it... Just don't tell my Grandma that. In a world where most people burn the proverbial candle at both ends with a can of gasoline, maybe having the opportunity to peek into the lives of the ones we love is a good thing (provided that at some point we stop surfing and start connecting).And so as time passes by like sand through the hourglass, I will pose for your pictures knowing I will be tagged. I will accept your friend request even though we haven't spoken since grade 5. And yes, cute girl who I now have a crush on, I will post a lyric in my status and hope you can read between the lines!