I’m sure most people don’t know this about me, but for about the last 20 years, I’ve been without a sense of smell.

When I was around 6 years old, I fell approximately 25 feet from a tree, having climbed to the top while my friends made a tree house below. I don’t recall much of the incident beyond the breaking of branches and the subsequent free-fall. Needless to say, the resulting impact left me unconscious and broken on the ground below. I don’t remember anything immediately after the fall, but I do remember awaking sometime later in the the hospital to discover I had a broken arm, was incredibly sore, and had suffered amnesia. Yep, I banged my head pretty good.

While I don’t know specifically if this trauma is what took my sense of smell, I came to realize a number of years later that I couldn’t smell anything. Believe it or not, I never really noticed. My breath was never bad, my shit never stank, my gym clothes never smelly. And I was ok with that, as I never really thought much of it.

Over the years I’ve had a number of “phantom smells”, where I’d see something and immediately think I could smell it. Let it be said that this was by no means a subtle experience. More times than not I was completely engulfed by the smell, unable to escape it. For instance, I once saw some fresh cut grass and for the next hour I felt like my head was in a bag full of it. No matter where I went or what I tried, all I could smell was grass. I’ve come to realize those incidents were probably more of a memory than anything else, and in that case I was simply recalling what fresh cut grass smelled like.

While that may be an interesting story unto itself, what’s even more interesting is that over the last 9 months, my sense of small has started to come back. I have no idea how or why - I like to believe it’s a medical mystery - but I can definitely smell again. I can’t quite smell everything yet, but if I stick my nose in front of it once, I seem to register it the next time I’m around it. It’s like I’m having to relearn how to smell again.

I first started to notice that something was different last summer at the cottage. Jess had just thrown some garlic into a sauce pan, and I was convinced I could smell it. Brushing it off as another phantom smell, I didn’t think much of it. However, the next time Jess threw some garlic into a sauce pan, I happened to be in another room and was completely unaware she was cooking. I thought I could smell the garlic again, and when I walked into the kitchen and could see it in the pan, I was stunned.

I can smell again!

Since then, I can smell all sorts of things. I found it easier to detect savory smells originally, but I can more or less smell everything now. Garlic, onions, coffee, oranges, wine, gasoline, cigarettes, perfume… and yes, it’s official. My shit does actually stink.

So I had the pleasure of giving a lecture at OCAD last night, which admittedly was a first for me.

I chatted about what we do here at Blast Radius, walked through some examples of our work, and gave some insight into the process of pitching new business. It looks like I may be back to chat again next semester, which I’m definitely looking forward to. What I found quite interesting was how attentive the students were - clearly, they were there to actually listen. Hopefully they found some value in what I had to say.

Being that I didn’t attend post-secondary school, I’d never actually been in a lecture let alone given one. Regardless, I think it went pretty well… hopefully the students felt the same.

Something quite trivial happened to me this afternoon that’s got me thinking about who I am as I person, and how the idiosyncrasies I possess will impact me as I strive to succeed in the future. I hadn’t intended this post to be as introspective as I’m sure it’ll undoubtedly come across as, but I digress - it’s a topic that has crossed my mind a number of times in the past, so post I shall.

This afternoon I drove down to the post office to setup the necessary mail-forwarding Jess and I are going to need after we depart next Friday. I hadn’t expected this to take much time to setup, but the large gathering of people waiting inside obviously made me think otherwise. I entered the building, walked up to the Take A Number dispenser, and pulled my lucky ticket. 68. A quick glance at the Now Serving display promptly reveals that I’m going to be here for a while. 49. As I’m about to take a seat and wait my turn, I notice 2 tickets sitting right next to the ticket dispenser. 50 and 52. And as if someone is looking over my shoulder, “Now serving number fifty.” is announced over the PA system.

I picked up the tickets and survey the room. Looking at the faces of those waiting for their number to be called, it’s clear no one wants to be there, and each of them has been waiting for quite some time. Especially longer than I. To some, the decision is easy. Go to the front of the time and save yourself at least 30 minutes. Especially when you’re riding a motorcycle and it looks like it’s about to rain.

I don’t know any of these people, nor will I see them again But I hesitate, 51 is quickly called, and a relieved looking gentlemen makes his way up to the counter with his big parcel. But I’m left standing right where I am, in the exact same situation. Holding 52.

It’s been my perception for quite some time that those who succeed in this world are those who take advantage of the opportunities that they are presented with. Your definition of “success” may vary, but I think the principals are the same. You have to know what you want, and you have to go and get it. You have to be relentless, and you can’t hesitate. You have to be confident and passionate. You have to be bigger than yourself, and bigger than the guy next to you. And when an opportunity presents itself, you have to take it

52 is called, but I’ve already thrown out the ticket. I’ve decided not to make these people wait any longer than they already have, and I’ll wait my turn just like they did. Some people will undoubtedly view my decision as a character strength, while others will view it as a character flaw. And truth be told, I’m still on the fence about it. Obviously, I’m not suggesting that this event will have any meaningful affect on my future, but I’m left wondering how I’ll react when presented with a opportunity of greater magnitude.

In this instance, I think the karma was more valuable than the 30 minutes I saved at the post office. And when a more meaningful opportunity inevitably presents itself, hopefully I can cash in all my accumulated karma for The Big Prize®.

I’m not quite sure how many people I’ve shared this with… for some reason I’m a bit embarrassed by it, even though I should probably be somewhat proud I suppose.

About 2 years ago, I had the opportunity to try my hand at writing when I penned the screenplay for a video game called Painkiller - a dark and bloody game about a guy stranded in purgatory who has been tasked by God to destroy the armies of Lucifer. Sounds like pure gold, no? Well if it wasn’t obvious, the embarrassing thing is that the final product was cheesy, cliched, wordy, and unoriginal.

Sure, it was my first attempt at writing something slightly more substantial than an email, but looking back on it, I’m thinking I should have considered a second draft before submitting it for review. Regardless, the game actually sold quite well, and if I’m not mistaken, the only substantial complaints were actually about the writing - booya!

Putting my involvement aside, it came as quite a surprise last Sunday when Jess and I were flipping through the channels and stumbled onto 60 Minutes. Featured in one of their segments was a “Cyber Athlete” named Fatal1ty (“Fatal1ty”? I can’t make this shit up), who is considered the best professional video game player in the world. And the next tournament he was training for was, you guessed it, a Painkiller tournament.

They (thankfully) didn’t mention anything about the stellar cinematic writing, but they definitely made mention of the game. It’s fast, bloody, addictive, and apparently far more popular than I realized! $150,000 prize for winning a video game tournament? I need to dust off my PlayStation2.

We have ants! And I have no idea where they came from!

What exactly attracts ants? Where do they come from? Why do we have them??? At the moment, I have no idea and I haven’t exactly had a chance to hit up Google for the answer. What I do know is that we came home this evening to find a swarm of ants in our pantry. In our pantry!!! AHHHH!! It looked as though the peanut butter was the culprit, but I can’t really be certain - I was in the car and on my want to get something to deal with this before Jess was finished screaming. Of course I didn’t just buy some ant traps. Oh no, I got 2 different Raid Colony Killer® ant traps, Raid “Kills On Contact®” Liquid Spray (let me tell you, it most certainly does), and the mother of all killers - The Raid Fumigator®. It’s basically a small metal smoke grenade that devastates all insect life within a 30 foot radius… Just pull the tab, toss and run.

While I didn’t need to drop the bomb, I think I emptied half the can of Liquid Spray in the kitchen, and the rest down in our bathroom. I’m not sure where they originated, but the ants were congregating around the PB and were walking in a nice line down the wall and emerging down in our bathroom. Regardless of their destination, they’re all dead. The area throughly sprayed, the carcasses removed, and traps placed to catch the survivors. If need be, I’ve got the Fumigators® ready for deployment. There will be no prisoners of war.

Now, before you get the wrong idea - Jess and I aren’t dirty people, and it’s quite upsetting that this has happened. Sure, we may leave some clothes on the floor (that may be me), or the dishes on the counter overnight (umm, me again), but the majority of the time our house is clean (that’s Jess). The sheets are changed every 2 weeks, the kitchen is cleaned regularly, and we have a cleaning staff that comes every 3 weeks. Jesus, Jess suffers from some sort of “must-clean-the-floor” ailment where she regularly freaks out about a seemingly clean floor and proceeds to vacuum or Swiffer the offending surface throughly. We’re clean, I swear! AHHHH!! I don’t think we’re dirty, but after seeing all those ants, I’ll be damned if I don’t feel itchy.

Stupid ants.