Some days...well, things could go a little better.
I used the last of my cash to buy my lunch, and then promptly spilled it all over the ground immediately after paying for it. The cashier leaned over the cash machine and did and said nothing to help. What is normally just a bummer becomes a real concern for someone like me--someone whose health is quite dependent on food.
But fear not! I work in the same building as my partner, and he kindly loaned me a few dollars to grab a quick lunch before a meeting. I'm fortunate that it worked out well enough, but it's one of those "Dammit!" moments we all have every once in a while.
Graceful, indeed...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 30, 2013
May 30/13
There are just some albums that withstand the test of time and remain as awesome as the first time you heard it.
Let's see if I can paint a decent enough mental picture (since I refuse to post actual pictures if I can avoid it):
It's September 1983. The place is the absolute hot spot of Fort Smith, Northwest Territories. Oh yeah...strap yourselves in, folks.
Fancy is a happy little four year old, dividing her days between daycare and Kindergarten. She's an active, imaginative little girl, though the girl part isn't immediately obvious--she's got very short blonde hair, she's rough and tumble and likes to wrestle with Daddy, and if she's lucky, she tips the scales at a hulking 30 lbs...soaking, freaking wet. Her best friend in the 3 year old boy across the street named Clinton. They are like little peas in a pod, to the point where everyone calls them Mr. and Mrs. (Surname Redacted), but she's in school now, so she's making friends with other kids. Her favourite toy is her tricycle. It's orange. She likes to stand on the seat while holding the handlebars. It's pretty badass. Fancy's got a poster of E.T. on the wall, and to tell the truth, it scares her.
She's shared a room in the past with her big sister, who can be such a meanie-weenie sometimes, but mostly her big sister looks out for her. Big sister has pictures of kittens on her bedroom wall. They're cute. She's got two big brothers too, but she only sees one sometimes in the summer. The other one isn't around much, not like he was when Fancy was younger. He's got these friends that Mummy and Daddy don't like much. He always seems to either be arguing with Mummy or avoiding her. He makes Fancy her favourite food, Chef Boyardee, and that makes him a pretty good big brother
Fancy is only vaguely aware of the world outside of Fort Smith. To her pre-school mind, all the places she hears about on the news are just places in her town she hasn't been to yet. Yeah, she wasn't the freshest cookie in the jar.
Little Fancy's big sister likes music. She has tapes. (Quit laughing, it was 1983). Big sister also likes looking cool, so edgy, new wave punk accessories sort of play at the edges of Big Sister's wardrobe. She's not all the way into it though, as she's also into sports, so it's this sporty-preppy-new wave thing...whatever you want to call it, her sister does it with flair.
This is the world I inhabited when this monster breakout hit song first pierced my little toddler ears:
I come home in the morning light
My mother says when you gonna live your life right
Oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones
And girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun...
Over the next couple of years, as singles from Cyndi Lauper's monster breakout album She's So Unusual roll out over the airwaves, I was influenced. I'm not sure how it happened, but I decided I wanted to grow a little rat tail in the back. I was pissed off that I had to have the stupid old black rainboots with the icky brown soles and stripe instead of the way more fun red ones. I rocked a Kway windbreaker. I still stood on the seat of my trike, hanging on to the handlebars...it was still pretty badass. The little girl grew up with that little streak of new wave in her. She was so(rta a little) unusual.
If it's been a long time since you listened to Cyndi Lauper's She's So Unusual in a while, do yourselves a favour, and find it. Pop it on. It's truly a pleasure to listen to now. Just as it was in 1983.
Cyndi Lauper...
...Wish you were here.
Let's see if I can paint a decent enough mental picture (since I refuse to post actual pictures if I can avoid it):
It's September 1983. The place is the absolute hot spot of Fort Smith, Northwest Territories. Oh yeah...strap yourselves in, folks.
Fancy is a happy little four year old, dividing her days between daycare and Kindergarten. She's an active, imaginative little girl, though the girl part isn't immediately obvious--she's got very short blonde hair, she's rough and tumble and likes to wrestle with Daddy, and if she's lucky, she tips the scales at a hulking 30 lbs...soaking, freaking wet. Her best friend in the 3 year old boy across the street named Clinton. They are like little peas in a pod, to the point where everyone calls them Mr. and Mrs. (Surname Redacted), but she's in school now, so she's making friends with other kids. Her favourite toy is her tricycle. It's orange. She likes to stand on the seat while holding the handlebars. It's pretty badass. Fancy's got a poster of E.T. on the wall, and to tell the truth, it scares her.
She's shared a room in the past with her big sister, who can be such a meanie-weenie sometimes, but mostly her big sister looks out for her. Big sister has pictures of kittens on her bedroom wall. They're cute. She's got two big brothers too, but she only sees one sometimes in the summer. The other one isn't around much, not like he was when Fancy was younger. He's got these friends that Mummy and Daddy don't like much. He always seems to either be arguing with Mummy or avoiding her. He makes Fancy her favourite food, Chef Boyardee, and that makes him a pretty good big brother
Fancy is only vaguely aware of the world outside of Fort Smith. To her pre-school mind, all the places she hears about on the news are just places in her town she hasn't been to yet. Yeah, she wasn't the freshest cookie in the jar.
Little Fancy's big sister likes music. She has tapes. (Quit laughing, it was 1983). Big sister also likes looking cool, so edgy, new wave punk accessories sort of play at the edges of Big Sister's wardrobe. She's not all the way into it though, as she's also into sports, so it's this sporty-preppy-new wave thing...whatever you want to call it, her sister does it with flair.
This is the world I inhabited when this monster breakout hit song first pierced my little toddler ears:
I come home in the morning light
My mother says when you gonna live your life right
Oh mother dear we're not the fortunate ones
And girls they want to have fun
Oh girls just want to have fun...
Over the next couple of years, as singles from Cyndi Lauper's monster breakout album She's So Unusual roll out over the airwaves, I was influenced. I'm not sure how it happened, but I decided I wanted to grow a little rat tail in the back. I was pissed off that I had to have the stupid old black rainboots with the icky brown soles and stripe instead of the way more fun red ones. I rocked a Kway windbreaker. I still stood on the seat of my trike, hanging on to the handlebars...it was still pretty badass. The little girl grew up with that little streak of new wave in her. She was so(rta a little) unusual.
If it's been a long time since you listened to Cyndi Lauper's She's So Unusual in a while, do yourselves a favour, and find it. Pop it on. It's truly a pleasure to listen to now. Just as it was in 1983.
Cyndi Lauper...
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
May 29/13
Dr. Henry Morgentaler died today at age 90.
In case you aren't familiar with Dr. Morgentaler, he was the remarkable one-man force that a movement solidified behind in his fight to legalize abortion in Canada. His work was dedicated to preserving the health of women and that included their right to choose and their right to access safe medically-performed abortions. And women in Canada today have him to thank for the fact that we know if we need it, we have access. Whatever you think of abortion, whichever side of the debate you come down on, there is something everyone has to acknowledge, and that is Dr. Morgentaler's dedication to his patients.
He will be missed, but at least he leaves behind a country that is far safer for women than it was when he arrived here.
Thank you, Dr. Morgentaler. Canada could use more people like you.
...Wish you were here.
In case you aren't familiar with Dr. Morgentaler, he was the remarkable one-man force that a movement solidified behind in his fight to legalize abortion in Canada. His work was dedicated to preserving the health of women and that included their right to choose and their right to access safe medically-performed abortions. And women in Canada today have him to thank for the fact that we know if we need it, we have access. Whatever you think of abortion, whichever side of the debate you come down on, there is something everyone has to acknowledge, and that is Dr. Morgentaler's dedication to his patients.
He will be missed, but at least he leaves behind a country that is far safer for women than it was when he arrived here.
Thank you, Dr. Morgentaler. Canada could use more people like you.
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
May 28/13
Okay, this is just fucking disgusting.
If you don't know who Cindy Blackstock is, I'll try my best to sum it up for you. She is a First Nations woman who advocates for First Nations children, particularly those who have had interventions with child welfare systems. In 2007, she filed a human rights complaint against the federal government, arguing that (among other things) the underfunding of child welfare systems compared to the provincial systems is discriminatory and harms First Nations children and families.
Today, the Privacy Commissioner released her findings that two federal departments violated the Privacy Act by spying on Cindy Blackstock through her personal facebook page. The departments went well beyond researching her views on child welfare, collecting personal information and details about her interactions with friends. Yeah. That happened.
I have to wonder...Cindy's opposition to the federal government is no different from the activities of Idle No More...is there any danger that the surveillance has spread to publicly-vocal members of that movement? Are we on a watch list somewhere for struggling to change a very broken relationship between Aboriginals and the federal government? It's not paranoia, it's now a legitimate concern.
Unbelievably low...
...Wish you were here.
If you don't know who Cindy Blackstock is, I'll try my best to sum it up for you. She is a First Nations woman who advocates for First Nations children, particularly those who have had interventions with child welfare systems. In 2007, she filed a human rights complaint against the federal government, arguing that (among other things) the underfunding of child welfare systems compared to the provincial systems is discriminatory and harms First Nations children and families.
Today, the Privacy Commissioner released her findings that two federal departments violated the Privacy Act by spying on Cindy Blackstock through her personal facebook page. The departments went well beyond researching her views on child welfare, collecting personal information and details about her interactions with friends. Yeah. That happened.
I have to wonder...Cindy's opposition to the federal government is no different from the activities of Idle No More...is there any danger that the surveillance has spread to publicly-vocal members of that movement? Are we on a watch list somewhere for struggling to change a very broken relationship between Aboriginals and the federal government? It's not paranoia, it's now a legitimate concern.
Unbelievably low...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, May 27, 2013
May 27/13
Awww fuck.
The Red Wings lost.
It's disappointing that the Blackhawks battled back to force the series to a crucial Game 7. No. Not disappointing. Nerve-wracking and disheartening. And I'm afraid it's totally killed my mojo for tonight. I'm also pretty irritated because it seems like the CBC staff loves nothing more than verbally abusing the Wings, which I don't understand. Well, mostly...they do have a major man crush on Pavel Datsyuk (who doesn't?!? He's The Magic Man!) which I can't deny.
Game 7, I'm freakin'...
...Wish you were here.
The Red Wings lost.
It's disappointing that the Blackhawks battled back to force the series to a crucial Game 7. No. Not disappointing. Nerve-wracking and disheartening. And I'm afraid it's totally killed my mojo for tonight. I'm also pretty irritated because it seems like the CBC staff loves nothing more than verbally abusing the Wings, which I don't understand. Well, mostly...they do have a major man crush on Pavel Datsyuk (who doesn't?!? He's The Magic Man!) which I can't deny.
Game 7, I'm freakin'...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
May 26/13
Dammit, the biggest thing what happened today was watch every episode of the new Arrested Development season on Netflix, and I can't talk about it because I don't want to spoil anything for those who have yet to watch any or all episodes.
Unfortunately the only other thing that happened today was that I did laundry.
So...what's a girl to do when she doesn't have anything to talk about?
Any ideas?
No? Yeah, me either.
Maybe I'll find something that I can talk about tomorrow.
Until then...
...Wish you were here.
Unfortunately the only other thing that happened today was that I did laundry.
So...what's a girl to do when she doesn't have anything to talk about?
Any ideas?
No? Yeah, me either.
Maybe I'll find something that I can talk about tomorrow.
Until then...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
May 25/13
Picking up where I left off last night, this afternoon I napped. I never nap. This just goes to show how wiped out I was after this week. But that's not what I want to talk about.
I want to talk about 13 year olds, decision-making, and Don Cherry.
I try to stay away from Coach's Corner because I'm recognizing that Don Cherry's just becoming a nuisance. He still knows the goods when it comes to hockey, but his editorials over the last five years or so have been borderline.
Tonight, it was just dumb.
Earlier today, Hockey Canada voted to ban checking at the peewee level. By and large, this is believed to be a positive move, though the old Dinosaur doesn't think so, and he resorted to a pretty weak argument about these kids playing with other kids who do hit. The thing is, in Alberta, they just instituted the ban, and there is no evidence of more injuries because the 14 year olds know how to hit and the 13 year olds don't. The people who are loudest in fighting the bans are the goons and the uber-competitive parents who want their kids to win at all costs.
But by far, Don's dumbest comment on this came as Coach's Corner was wrapping up:
“I’ve talked to coaches [who coach 13-year-olds] and they tell the kids, ‘you can hit now.’ And the kids say ‘we can hit now!?’, and they’re wild. They can hardly wait.”
Sure, that's probably the case that the kids go "wild"...but I think back to when I was 13, when my peers were 13, when my cousins were 13, when my niece and nephew were 13...at 13, we were not the best decision-makers. We did shit that we thought was so cool without thinking of how stupid or dangerous it was. We did not think about the consequences. I went to a sleepaway summer camp as a 10 year old, and on the final night there, some of the older kids started a water balloon fight. It was all harmless and good fun, but one of the older boys escalated it, and it resulted in another boy kicking in a door on the troublemaker, catching him in the head. He ended up with a significant concussion, and we were all freaked out.
I realize it's been a long time since Don Cherry was 13, but I would hazard a guess that even he would look back on his 13 year old self and think "Christ, that was a dumb thing to do." about a few things.
At 13, these kids are still growing, so let's let them do so without increasing their risk of preventable injury. They will have plenty of time for those cool-but-stupid decisions later on...trust me.
An ounce of prevention (and common sense)...
...Wish you were here.
I want to talk about 13 year olds, decision-making, and Don Cherry.
I try to stay away from Coach's Corner because I'm recognizing that Don Cherry's just becoming a nuisance. He still knows the goods when it comes to hockey, but his editorials over the last five years or so have been borderline.
Tonight, it was just dumb.
Earlier today, Hockey Canada voted to ban checking at the peewee level. By and large, this is believed to be a positive move, though the old Dinosaur doesn't think so, and he resorted to a pretty weak argument about these kids playing with other kids who do hit. The thing is, in Alberta, they just instituted the ban, and there is no evidence of more injuries because the 14 year olds know how to hit and the 13 year olds don't. The people who are loudest in fighting the bans are the goons and the uber-competitive parents who want their kids to win at all costs.
But by far, Don's dumbest comment on this came as Coach's Corner was wrapping up:
“I’ve talked to coaches [who coach 13-year-olds] and they tell the kids, ‘you can hit now.’ And the kids say ‘we can hit now!?’, and they’re wild. They can hardly wait.”
Sure, that's probably the case that the kids go "wild"...but I think back to when I was 13, when my peers were 13, when my cousins were 13, when my niece and nephew were 13...at 13, we were not the best decision-makers. We did shit that we thought was so cool without thinking of how stupid or dangerous it was. We did not think about the consequences. I went to a sleepaway summer camp as a 10 year old, and on the final night there, some of the older kids started a water balloon fight. It was all harmless and good fun, but one of the older boys escalated it, and it resulted in another boy kicking in a door on the troublemaker, catching him in the head. He ended up with a significant concussion, and we were all freaked out.
I realize it's been a long time since Don Cherry was 13, but I would hazard a guess that even he would look back on his 13 year old self and think "Christ, that was a dumb thing to do." about a few things.
At 13, these kids are still growing, so let's let them do so without increasing their risk of preventable injury. They will have plenty of time for those cool-but-stupid decisions later on...trust me.
An ounce of prevention (and common sense)...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, May 24, 2013
May 24/13
Holy shit, I feel like I've been hit by a truck. And I *actually* know how that feels.
It was a shorter work week due to the Victoria Day holiday on Monday, but tell that to my wasted and broken body and mind. I can't get into details, but a file that brings out the very worst in me has landed back on my shoulders, and after four days of irritation, chaos, and miscues, I'm desperate for a jacuzzi tub, a bottle of wine, and so. much. sleep.
An end to this miserable fucking file...
...Wish you were here.
It was a shorter work week due to the Victoria Day holiday on Monday, but tell that to my wasted and broken body and mind. I can't get into details, but a file that brings out the very worst in me has landed back on my shoulders, and after four days of irritation, chaos, and miscues, I'm desperate for a jacuzzi tub, a bottle of wine, and so. much. sleep.
An end to this miserable fucking file...
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
May 23/13
Change is happening. To everyone around me.
A week ago, a good friend got her marriage license (in Portugal) after a lengthy and frustrating process involving several countries. Last weekend, a good friend was married. A day or so later, another dear friend became engaged while on vacation in Hawaii. On Tuesday, it was the death of a senior manager from work. Yesterday, it was news of new positions for a couple of work colleagues. And tonight, it was the news that yet another good friend is five months pregnant. The dead man aside, no grass has time to grow under their feet, and I wish every one of them much luck and joy.
But I had a bitch of a sleep last night. All this news quite rightly gets one doing some thinking about what is or isn't happening to/for him or her.
I haven't wasted my life by any means...on the contrary, I've accomplished some pretty important things; but this isn't the life I worked so hard to achieve. I'm still stuck in a city I'm not happy living in. I'm not comfortable or happy with the additional duties of my job since being shunted off to a new group. I'm in a precarious financial situation that rather limits possibilities for me. I'm 34, and the opportunities to go out into a world I was very eager to see are slipping past me every day. I wanted to live abroad and work in development. Instead I'm a burned-out bureaucrat in a depressing, bureaucratic city.
I'm rather unsettled by the notion that nothing significant will happen for me anymore. And I'm downright terrified that eventually I'll stop pursuing personal fulfillment. If or when that happens, it will mean that the hope has died, that I'll fade away into a shell of a person, and that I will stop caring. I've always cared. If I stop, I will not be fit for human company.
It's pretty bleak stuff at a time when I should be rejoicing for the good news of some wonderful people around me.
I think back on the wasted chances of my youth, and the opportunities that I gave up so that others could be happy. Those. I allow myself so few regrets, but those moments...those wear on me in the truest sense of the word 'regret'.
Another chance...
...Wish you were here.
A week ago, a good friend got her marriage license (in Portugal) after a lengthy and frustrating process involving several countries. Last weekend, a good friend was married. A day or so later, another dear friend became engaged while on vacation in Hawaii. On Tuesday, it was the death of a senior manager from work. Yesterday, it was news of new positions for a couple of work colleagues. And tonight, it was the news that yet another good friend is five months pregnant. The dead man aside, no grass has time to grow under their feet, and I wish every one of them much luck and joy.
But I had a bitch of a sleep last night. All this news quite rightly gets one doing some thinking about what is or isn't happening to/for him or her.
I haven't wasted my life by any means...on the contrary, I've accomplished some pretty important things; but this isn't the life I worked so hard to achieve. I'm still stuck in a city I'm not happy living in. I'm not comfortable or happy with the additional duties of my job since being shunted off to a new group. I'm in a precarious financial situation that rather limits possibilities for me. I'm 34, and the opportunities to go out into a world I was very eager to see are slipping past me every day. I wanted to live abroad and work in development. Instead I'm a burned-out bureaucrat in a depressing, bureaucratic city.
I'm rather unsettled by the notion that nothing significant will happen for me anymore. And I'm downright terrified that eventually I'll stop pursuing personal fulfillment. If or when that happens, it will mean that the hope has died, that I'll fade away into a shell of a person, and that I will stop caring. I've always cared. If I stop, I will not be fit for human company.
It's pretty bleak stuff at a time when I should be rejoicing for the good news of some wonderful people around me.
I think back on the wasted chances of my youth, and the opportunities that I gave up so that others could be happy. Those. I allow myself so few regrets, but those moments...those wear on me in the truest sense of the word 'regret'.
Another chance...
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
May 22/13
I'm not a mother. And to be honest, I never intended to be one. This isn't a surprise to those who have known me for a while, and I've certainly ranting a little over the years at the treatment I've experienced for being childless by choice, but I honestly bear no one ill will for being parents. Indeed, kids can be a true delight. They just aren't my choice of delight. And anyway, I don't need kids to be an excessively proud Aunt!
HAPPY BIRFDAY MISS M!
Some years ago, my oldest brother broke the news that his then-girlfriend was expecting. My first little rugrat! One fine, sunny May 22nd, Miss M was born. Oh, she took her time alright...she was due much earlier (rather like her aunt Fancy). Her due date came and went, and still no baby. Her mother was induced multiple times, but Miss M was determined to make her debut on her terms.
And now, Miss M is a young woman who has gone through much in her relatively short life, but she's always found a way to handle the ups and downs. As she prepares for the next major steps in her life, I know she'll be alright because, from that cautious little toddler with a soggy diaper and an AWOL teddy bear, she's grown into a unique, well-resourced woman.
But she'll always be my baby girl...
...Wish you were here.
HAPPY BIRFDAY MISS M!
Some years ago, my oldest brother broke the news that his then-girlfriend was expecting. My first little rugrat! One fine, sunny May 22nd, Miss M was born. Oh, she took her time alright...she was due much earlier (rather like her aunt Fancy). Her due date came and went, and still no baby. Her mother was induced multiple times, but Miss M was determined to make her debut on her terms.
And now, Miss M is a young woman who has gone through much in her relatively short life, but she's always found a way to handle the ups and downs. As she prepares for the next major steps in her life, I know she'll be alright because, from that cautious little toddler with a soggy diaper and an AWOL teddy bear, she's grown into a unique, well-resourced woman.
But she'll always be my baby girl...
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
May 21/13
I had a moment of sad tonight as I realized that Mother's Day came and went recently, which means that my dear little Max came into our lives 16 years ago. I don't cry now when I think of him being gone--well, that's not entirely true. Generally, I don't cry, but whenever I think of or hear his lullaby, I get a little choked up.
16 years ago last week, a tiny, 10 week old Max was presented to my rather surprised mother as a gift for Mother's Day. I didn't ever think then that this action would lead to me being his human mother.
I miss you, baby boy...
...Wish you were here.
16 years ago last week, a tiny, 10 week old Max was presented to my rather surprised mother as a gift for Mother's Day. I didn't ever think then that this action would lead to me being his human mother.
I miss you, baby boy...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, May 20, 2013
May 20/13
Oh boy.
What is there to say? A massive tornado has ripped through Moore, Oklahoma this afternoon, and the devastation is just so complete, I can't wrap my head around how low the death toll is reported to be. It's sad that people died, and indeed it's reported that a 7 month old baby and its mother were among the first fatalities reported, but if there is any possible good news in this situation it's that so few people were killed.
My heart is with the people in Moore...
...Wish you were here.
What is there to say? A massive tornado has ripped through Moore, Oklahoma this afternoon, and the devastation is just so complete, I can't wrap my head around how low the death toll is reported to be. It's sad that people died, and indeed it's reported that a 7 month old baby and its mother were among the first fatalities reported, but if there is any possible good news in this situation it's that so few people were killed.
My heart is with the people in Moore...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
May 19/13
Well, I can scratch one important question off the list related to our Yellowknife visit this summer.
I still don't know the dates (well, I have a rough idea), and I don't know what I will have to show Etienne (it's not an overly large city, after all), BUT! I received confirmation that Etienne will be able to enjoy one of his preferred brands of gluten-free beer while he's there, and that is most excellent news. Now I just have to concentrate on finding out what brands of gluten free breads we can get our hands on there, or alternatively, if we have to bring some with us. Yellowknifers, do the stores up there carry Udi's gluten free bread products?
Making travel easier...
...Wish you were here.
I still don't know the dates (well, I have a rough idea), and I don't know what I will have to show Etienne (it's not an overly large city, after all), BUT! I received confirmation that Etienne will be able to enjoy one of his preferred brands of gluten-free beer while he's there, and that is most excellent news. Now I just have to concentrate on finding out what brands of gluten free breads we can get our hands on there, or alternatively, if we have to bring some with us. Yellowknifers, do the stores up there carry Udi's gluten free bread products?
Making travel easier...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
May 18/13
There are just certain genres of music that lend themselves so perfectly to records, it seems a little traitorous when I buy them on CD or accept them in electronic format. Jazz, Blues, Motown...these just feel *right* in vinyl. But I can only think of a handful of rock albums I consider it an obligation--nay, mandatory to buy on vinyl. Among that handful is Bat Out Of Hell by Meat Loaf. It's an epic album, and it deserves the vinyl treatment.
But if you've only just started collecting vinyl in recent years, you'll know it's near impossible to find at most local record stores, even for a "big" city like Ottawa. If you find a used copy, good luck with it's being in good condition.
Who's got a new Bat album? This girl! Right here!
Prior to the sickly drive back from Montreal on Monday, we went to a record store called Aux 33 Tours on Mont Royal. With all due respect to the couple of record stores we frequent in Ottawa, this store absolutely blows away the competition. Our stores in Ottawa range from crappy, like CD Warehouse, to good, like Vertigo and Compact, but this place is excellent. And after repeated failures to get my hands on Bat I had given up hope, and was preparing to turn my money over to the very corporate Amazon.ca, but I've been rescued from doing that by this awesome, large, clean, bright independent little store specializing in Japanese pressings.
Tonight, we put Bat on, and it was bloody brilliant. Epic. Worth the build up.
Paradise by the Dashboard Light...
...Wish you were here.
But if you've only just started collecting vinyl in recent years, you'll know it's near impossible to find at most local record stores, even for a "big" city like Ottawa. If you find a used copy, good luck with it's being in good condition.
Who's got a new Bat album? This girl! Right here!
Prior to the sickly drive back from Montreal on Monday, we went to a record store called Aux 33 Tours on Mont Royal. With all due respect to the couple of record stores we frequent in Ottawa, this store absolutely blows away the competition. Our stores in Ottawa range from crappy, like CD Warehouse, to good, like Vertigo and Compact, but this place is excellent. And after repeated failures to get my hands on Bat I had given up hope, and was preparing to turn my money over to the very corporate Amazon.ca, but I've been rescued from doing that by this awesome, large, clean, bright independent little store specializing in Japanese pressings.
Tonight, we put Bat on, and it was bloody brilliant. Epic. Worth the build up.
Paradise by the Dashboard Light...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, May 17, 2013
May 17/13
"No leave, Mr. Speaker."
With those four words, spoken by a single in a legislative chamber, Canada was forced to hear hundreds of thousands of voices. Today, that man died.
This morning, very shortly after a minor earthquake here in the Ottawa region, I was checking my Twitter feed, and a reporter in Yellowknife who I follow was the first on my feed to announce that Elijah Harper, former MLA and MP from Manitoba, and the speaker of those words, had passed away today. Suddenly the giddiness of the quake gave way to sadness and nostalgia, but also to pride and a sense of gratefulness. I was only 9 years old when Elijah Harper rose in the Manitoba Legislature and effectively ended the Meech Lake accord, but I knew even then that he did it for a good reason. Aboriginals had been ignored in the constitutional process (I didn't understand the details, but my parents are news junkies, and there was no escaping the knowledge that this thing, whatever it meant, was happening). Elijah Harper and his eagle feather symbolically announced that Canada has THREE founding nations...not two. Elijah Harper underlined that point for all to see.
Thank you, sir...
...Wish you were here.
With those four words, spoken by a single in a legislative chamber, Canada was forced to hear hundreds of thousands of voices. Today, that man died.
This morning, very shortly after a minor earthquake here in the Ottawa region, I was checking my Twitter feed, and a reporter in Yellowknife who I follow was the first on my feed to announce that Elijah Harper, former MLA and MP from Manitoba, and the speaker of those words, had passed away today. Suddenly the giddiness of the quake gave way to sadness and nostalgia, but also to pride and a sense of gratefulness. I was only 9 years old when Elijah Harper rose in the Manitoba Legislature and effectively ended the Meech Lake accord, but I knew even then that he did it for a good reason. Aboriginals had been ignored in the constitutional process (I didn't understand the details, but my parents are news junkies, and there was no escaping the knowledge that this thing, whatever it meant, was happening). Elijah Harper and his eagle feather symbolically announced that Canada has THREE founding nations...not two. Elijah Harper underlined that point for all to see.
Thank you, sir...
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
May 16/13
Happy Anniversary to us!
Three years ago today, a boy left a keg party and walked for hours (with a knot in his shoe for some time of that walk) to get to the front door of a girl's apartment at 5 am (who was supposed to be at that party until circumstances intervened) to tell her in no uncertain terms that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her.
The boy's opening line? "I have a knot in my shoe"
The girl's response? (still half-asleep) "You have a knot in your shoe? Do you want me to drive you home?"
Had I gone to that party, there's no guarantee the relationship would have started that night, and it likely wouldn't have started in as charming and memorable way.
To the knots in our shoes, and our lives...
...Wish you were here.
Three years ago today, a boy left a keg party and walked for hours (with a knot in his shoe for some time of that walk) to get to the front door of a girl's apartment at 5 am (who was supposed to be at that party until circumstances intervened) to tell her in no uncertain terms that he wanted to pursue a relationship with her.
The boy's opening line? "I have a knot in my shoe"
The girl's response? (still half-asleep) "You have a knot in your shoe? Do you want me to drive you home?"
Had I gone to that party, there's no guarantee the relationship would have started that night, and it likely wouldn't have started in as charming and memorable way.
To the knots in our shoes, and our lives...
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
May 15/13
Of course, I had a few moments from work that could be fodder for this blog, but I can't talk about work on pain of death or a stern reprimand on paper, or whatever. So you're left with today's mundane details of my life outside the office. Sorry.
This cold is proceeding on schedule, but it's complicated now by another infection. At least the other infection is bacterial, so I get antibiotics, but even that comes with a downside. The side effects of the antibiotic prescribed sound as unpleasant as the infection itself, and just to underline the point, the substance comes in black and yellow capsules. That's right...the nasty side effects come in a pill that looks as ominous as it sounds.
What else?
Well.
So, it's Game 1 of the Red Wings/Blackhawks series. The hawks always bested the Wings during this regular season, but I have reason to hope for a good fight from Detroit, who has turned it on as of late. Go Wings!
And...uh...
Yeah, it turns out that I had a boring day outside of work.
So much for transparency...
...Wish you were here.
This cold is proceeding on schedule, but it's complicated now by another infection. At least the other infection is bacterial, so I get antibiotics, but even that comes with a downside. The side effects of the antibiotic prescribed sound as unpleasant as the infection itself, and just to underline the point, the substance comes in black and yellow capsules. That's right...the nasty side effects come in a pill that looks as ominous as it sounds.
What else?
Well.
So, it's Game 1 of the Red Wings/Blackhawks series. The hawks always bested the Wings during this regular season, but I have reason to hope for a good fight from Detroit, who has turned it on as of late. Go Wings!
And...uh...
Yeah, it turns out that I had a boring day outside of work.
So much for transparency...
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
May 14/13
Because I'b awl stubbet up, I can't do a lot of thinking. My brain ib leaking out my nose.
So instead, I'll leave you with the witty writings of another blogger. You know that stupid, nonsensical argument the Conservative Party spokesman tried to make about the Liberal candidate's win in Labrador was a loss for Justin Trudeau? Yeah. Read this. It's funny.
Reality checks...
...Wish you were here.
So instead, I'll leave you with the witty writings of another blogger. You know that stupid, nonsensical argument the Conservative Party spokesman tried to make about the Liberal candidate's win in Labrador was a loss for Justin Trudeau? Yeah. Read this. It's funny.
Reality checks...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, May 13, 2013
May 13/13
I'm traveling, so of course you know what comes next...
I'm sick :(
My sinuses are inhumanly congested, and of course, I had to drive us home from Montreal. We had planned to go up the Mont because I still haven't been, but the crap weather and my sinus-crammed head put that item off the agenda today. Next time, perhaps.
I thought I would get away without getting sick, because this time we weren't flying! Of course I get sick after plane travel...long flights, recirculated air, poor sanitizing...planes are just a cesspool of germs, and germs love me. But we drove!
Stupid cold...
...Wish you were here.
I'm sick :(
My sinuses are inhumanly congested, and of course, I had to drive us home from Montreal. We had planned to go up the Mont because I still haven't been, but the crap weather and my sinus-crammed head put that item off the agenda today. Next time, perhaps.
I thought I would get away without getting sick, because this time we weren't flying! Of course I get sick after plane travel...long flights, recirculated air, poor sanitizing...planes are just a cesspool of germs, and germs love me. But we drove!
Stupid cold...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
May 12/13
It's Mother's Day here in Canada, and I would be remiss if I didn't send out some love to the mothers in my life. Big love especially to my mummy, my sister, Irene, and Nycole.
You know who doesn't get a lot of love today? Rue St.-Denis. I enjoy this part of Montreal, but I was especially excited to go to this store Rien a Cacher, which sold fair trade, ethical, and organic clothing by local designers. I've gotten some unique pieces from there while I'm proud of; when I wear these pieces, people take notice and ask questions. I saved what little money I had for shopping just for this store.
It's closed.
That was so very disappointing. We carried on walking, both feeling a bit of shock. My mind was still reeling when Etienne pointed out that one of the record stores he wanted to go to was also closed. Suddenly, the rest of our walk down the street was blighted by all the For Rent signs and vacant stores. What's going on in Montreal? As of today, it's lost some of its cool.
Rien a Cacher...
...Wish you were here.
You know who doesn't get a lot of love today? Rue St.-Denis. I enjoy this part of Montreal, but I was especially excited to go to this store Rien a Cacher, which sold fair trade, ethical, and organic clothing by local designers. I've gotten some unique pieces from there while I'm proud of; when I wear these pieces, people take notice and ask questions. I saved what little money I had for shopping just for this store.
It's closed.
That was so very disappointing. We carried on walking, both feeling a bit of shock. My mind was still reeling when Etienne pointed out that one of the record stores he wanted to go to was also closed. Suddenly, the rest of our walk down the street was blighted by all the For Rent signs and vacant stores. What's going on in Montreal? As of today, it's lost some of its cool.
Rien a Cacher...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
May 11/13
Today's moment was going to be the experience of a Montreal Impact game, but I'm sorry, I was just truly fascinated by something totally cliche, and yet something I've never seen actually happen.
The Hotel Bar Pick-up.
You know in Hollywood, how movies and TV shows will play out the cliche scene of a hotel bar pick up? It's mood lighting, there's a jazz band, or some mood music, and someone will sidle up to the bar, order and drink, and almost seem to wait for someone else to sidle up beside them, make small talk, and see how it goes...
Damn if I didn't watch that happen beside me.
Etienne and Laurent went downstairs to the hotel bar to grab a drink before supper, and I joined them after it took some time to make myself presentable. They chattered away in French, while I sat and observed, occasionally joining in or answering a question. I noticed an older gentleman, dressed in a suit, but no tie, having a drink and eating. He looked lonely. I noticed a several tables, mostly occupied by businessmen, enjoying drinks and laughing.
At some point, a couple of women came in, dressed up to go out, and they opted to sit at the bar, just a seat down from where I was. I didn't notice them at first. Then I was vaguely aware of their presence. But they had my full attention when I suddenly noticed that a middle-aged blonde guy in a suit sidled up beside the busty brunette, while his balding, bearded friend slipped into the seat beside me to try his best with the bottled blonde. What the what? This shit actually happens?
We left before I could ascertain the possibilities of one or both successfully picking up the ladies, but I sure would have liked the chance to sit back in a corner and observe this cliche intrude into the real world. Of even more interest to me? The lonely man. He was a couple of seats down, and I wanted to watch him, see how he observed this. He looked like he's spent some time in hotel bars. Was the loneliness because he missed someone? Was he jealous that he could not do what the younger men did? Was he scared to even try?
Everyone has a story...
...Wish you were here.
The Hotel Bar Pick-up.
You know in Hollywood, how movies and TV shows will play out the cliche scene of a hotel bar pick up? It's mood lighting, there's a jazz band, or some mood music, and someone will sidle up to the bar, order and drink, and almost seem to wait for someone else to sidle up beside them, make small talk, and see how it goes...
Damn if I didn't watch that happen beside me.
Etienne and Laurent went downstairs to the hotel bar to grab a drink before supper, and I joined them after it took some time to make myself presentable. They chattered away in French, while I sat and observed, occasionally joining in or answering a question. I noticed an older gentleman, dressed in a suit, but no tie, having a drink and eating. He looked lonely. I noticed a several tables, mostly occupied by businessmen, enjoying drinks and laughing.
At some point, a couple of women came in, dressed up to go out, and they opted to sit at the bar, just a seat down from where I was. I didn't notice them at first. Then I was vaguely aware of their presence. But they had my full attention when I suddenly noticed that a middle-aged blonde guy in a suit sidled up beside the busty brunette, while his balding, bearded friend slipped into the seat beside me to try his best with the bottled blonde. What the what? This shit actually happens?
We left before I could ascertain the possibilities of one or both successfully picking up the ladies, but I sure would have liked the chance to sit back in a corner and observe this cliche intrude into the real world. Of even more interest to me? The lonely man. He was a couple of seats down, and I wanted to watch him, see how he observed this. He looked like he's spent some time in hotel bars. Was the loneliness because he missed someone? Was he jealous that he could not do what the younger men did? Was he scared to even try?
Everyone has a story...
...Wish you were here.
Friday, May 10, 2013
May 10/13
I'm out to dinner in Montreal, and there are no stations playing the Red Wings/Ducks game in this damn city anyway. The best I can do it monitor my phone updates from the Red Wings app.
Go Wings!
...Wish you were here.
Go Wings!
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
May 9/13
Well, I guess the time of year snuck up on me.
On our walk home last night, I spotted a woman and three girls, all in prairie garb. Think long skirts and high necklines, all braided and modest. I thought it was an odd sight for any big city, never mind Spark Street in Ottawa. Later in the evening, I started to hear a crowd pass in front of our building, and when I looked, I saw more than a hundred teens (and more than a dozen adult chaperones) walking in groups. I figured it was just some mega school trip.
This morning, I woke up and opened Twitter, where I saw tweets indicating that today is the annual March for Life. That's right, Ottawa! It's Crazies on Parade time!
There are likely some decent, intelligent people in the crowd, but they are inevitably overshadowed by the, umm, more colourful of the assembled anti-abortion/anti-choice marchers. Indeed, I know lovely people whom I get along with famously, but we significantly disagree on the issue of abortion rights. Where are those people in that crowd of wackadoos? Three years ago, I headed out at lunch down Bank street, unaware of what was coming at me. I went into the Shopper's Drug Mart on Laurier, did my business, and when I came out, there were hundreds of people marching. I had my headphones in, so I didn't notice at first that they were anti-abortion, but I was soon cured of my ignorance as a group of older marchers started shouting at me. Literally. They took it upon themselves to accost me and a few other people on the street for not marching with them.
I kept my head and walked on, which is unusual for me, because when someone accosts me, I go by the golden rule...do unto others, my friends. Get in my face? That's license for me to respond in kind.
A little common courtesy...
...Wish you were here.
On our walk home last night, I spotted a woman and three girls, all in prairie garb. Think long skirts and high necklines, all braided and modest. I thought it was an odd sight for any big city, never mind Spark Street in Ottawa. Later in the evening, I started to hear a crowd pass in front of our building, and when I looked, I saw more than a hundred teens (and more than a dozen adult chaperones) walking in groups. I figured it was just some mega school trip.
This morning, I woke up and opened Twitter, where I saw tweets indicating that today is the annual March for Life. That's right, Ottawa! It's Crazies on Parade time!
There are likely some decent, intelligent people in the crowd, but they are inevitably overshadowed by the, umm, more colourful of the assembled anti-abortion/anti-choice marchers. Indeed, I know lovely people whom I get along with famously, but we significantly disagree on the issue of abortion rights. Where are those people in that crowd of wackadoos? Three years ago, I headed out at lunch down Bank street, unaware of what was coming at me. I went into the Shopper's Drug Mart on Laurier, did my business, and when I came out, there were hundreds of people marching. I had my headphones in, so I didn't notice at first that they were anti-abortion, but I was soon cured of my ignorance as a group of older marchers started shouting at me. Literally. They took it upon themselves to accost me and a few other people on the street for not marching with them.
I kept my head and walked on, which is unusual for me, because when someone accosts me, I go by the golden rule...do unto others, my friends. Get in my face? That's license for me to respond in kind.
A little common courtesy...
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
May 8/13
Rest in Peace, Duchess.
Today news broke that Jeanne Cooper, known best as the inimitable Katherine Chancellor on The Young and the Restless, has passed away at the age of 83.
I've watched Y&R on and off since I was knee high to a grasshopper. Gramma was a huge fan, and when the show was on, it was the only time she would insist on having the TV. My sister watched as a teenager, and my mother joined in later as she settled into retirement. Some of my earliest memories of TV are watching the great court battle over Phillip Chancellor IV between Jill and Katherine. It's been years since I stopped watching, but from time to time, I'd think about Ms. Cooper and marvel at the longevity of her career. Countless characters have come and gone, but she remained, the Duchess on the hill.
Time passes so quickly...
...Wish you were here.
Today news broke that Jeanne Cooper, known best as the inimitable Katherine Chancellor on The Young and the Restless, has passed away at the age of 83.
I've watched Y&R on and off since I was knee high to a grasshopper. Gramma was a huge fan, and when the show was on, it was the only time she would insist on having the TV. My sister watched as a teenager, and my mother joined in later as she settled into retirement. Some of my earliest memories of TV are watching the great court battle over Phillip Chancellor IV between Jill and Katherine. It's been years since I stopped watching, but from time to time, I'd think about Ms. Cooper and marvel at the longevity of her career. Countless characters have come and gone, but she remained, the Duchess on the hill.
Time passes so quickly...
...Wish you were here.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
May 7/13
I'm quite useless today. For some reason, I haven't been able to concentrate on anything, so work was a bit of a loss. I stared at a regulations document belonging to an international NGO for about 3 hours and don't think I could tell you what it was about. The neurons were just not firing today.
It was pretty much the same this evening at home. I put on recent episodes of shows that we've missed lately, and I barely managed to keep up with the stories as my mind wandered. If this was about me being distracted by a problem and I'm working my way through it, that would be okay, but this? It's like I'm checked out. Not even here.
But I feel like I need to leave you with something here...a WYWH moment.
And the best I can come up with is this: if you haven't heard the album High Violet by The National, I suggest you do it. You might recognize the song Runaway from several movies or tv series, but trust me, this whole album is just so...perfect.
High Violet...
...Wish you were here.
It was pretty much the same this evening at home. I put on recent episodes of shows that we've missed lately, and I barely managed to keep up with the stories as my mind wandered. If this was about me being distracted by a problem and I'm working my way through it, that would be okay, but this? It's like I'm checked out. Not even here.
But I feel like I need to leave you with something here...a WYWH moment.
And the best I can come up with is this: if you haven't heard the album High Violet by The National, I suggest you do it. You might recognize the song Runaway from several movies or tv series, but trust me, this whole album is just so...perfect.
High Violet...
...Wish you were here.
Monday, May 6, 2013
May 6/13
Inconclusive. Again.
Mere weeks before I was moving to Ottawa, I was sent for pulmonary function testing because the allergist was checking for asthma. At the time, the results were inconclusive, which meant that I would need to follow up with a methacholine test, but they couldn't schedule an appointment before I left Vancouver, so the investigation ended there. It had to, as I didn't have a doctor here in Ottawa for the first couple of years, and this isn't something you want to be doing through a walk-in clinic. However, the suspected asthma has reared its ugly head again, and it's no surprise as I'm plagued with allergies and live in a valley where the air doesn't move much. I went to see my doctor about it, and he got me an appointment for testing, which I attended today.
I spent nearly an hour variously forcing air through a mouthpiece, panting, and inhaling deep. No wonder I was starting to feel like I was hyperventilating...I *was* hyperventilating. And by the time it was all said and done, there was a 7% variation between my normal patterns and post-ventolin patterns. Inconclusive.
Again.
This time, I have a firm date for the next test, the methacholine challenge, and I'll finally know one way or the other.
Stronger lungs...
...Wish you were here.
Mere weeks before I was moving to Ottawa, I was sent for pulmonary function testing because the allergist was checking for asthma. At the time, the results were inconclusive, which meant that I would need to follow up with a methacholine test, but they couldn't schedule an appointment before I left Vancouver, so the investigation ended there. It had to, as I didn't have a doctor here in Ottawa for the first couple of years, and this isn't something you want to be doing through a walk-in clinic. However, the suspected asthma has reared its ugly head again, and it's no surprise as I'm plagued with allergies and live in a valley where the air doesn't move much. I went to see my doctor about it, and he got me an appointment for testing, which I attended today.
I spent nearly an hour variously forcing air through a mouthpiece, panting, and inhaling deep. No wonder I was starting to feel like I was hyperventilating...I *was* hyperventilating. And by the time it was all said and done, there was a 7% variation between my normal patterns and post-ventolin patterns. Inconclusive.
Again.
This time, I have a firm date for the next test, the methacholine challenge, and I'll finally know one way or the other.
Stronger lungs...
...Wish you were here.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
May 5/13
Happy Cinco de Mayo! I hope you are enjoying a lovely sangria, daiquiri, or margarita somewhere. We wandered out to get a few groceries and some wine so we could make sangria at home, and then took to our back patio to drink in the sangria and the hot sun of the late afternoon. I was extra-careful this year, and did not get so tanked that I could a) injure myself, and b) not remember how it happened :)
But today's moment is brought to you by procrastination and discovery, which led to a huge breakthrough.
A couple of weeks ago, I went into the deep recesses of the storage closet in the office. My goal? To retrieve two Winnie the Pooh soundtracks on vinyl, stored in an old trunk. Sometimes I forget everything that is stored in that trunk, so I was surprised when I found all of my old scripts from various productions I was in. I decided to pull them out with the intention of moving them to one of the bookcases--sort of a reminder of those days when I still performed--but then I got tired after putting everything back in the closet, so I just left the scripts in a small pile of items I meant to do something with.
Etienne made a comment today about what I intended to do with the pile, so while he sat down to watch the Habs game, I went in and grabbed the scripts. To my surprise and delight, I didn't just find my old scripts, I found *my* old scripts. On occasion, I was tapped or assigned to write a brief script or a scene for a project, and somehow in my youth, I had the sense enough to keep copies. Found:
-A scene I co-wrote with two classmates for a Drama 101 class during my first attempt at college.
-A script of a movie I had written scenes for with members of my high school drama club (produced with a social work student).
-A script for a short two-scene play I wrote about teens and drunk driving for a Students Against Drinking and Driving event.
As I read what I wrote back when I was 16 and 17 years old, I was quite astounded; while these are the works of a teenager, they each contained lines and directions that were quite sharp, pointed, or witty. I inexplicably became irritated...why hadn't anyone encouraged me to explore this more?
Anyway, the breakthrough happened shortly after. I've been struggling for a couple of weeks to answers some questions and solve some outstanding character and plot point issues, in particular a major change for the protagonist, and suddenly, with a comment from Etienne related to a dialogue exchange in one of the scripts, I had some answers. Good ones. I still need to do some work to manage a few more questions/issues, but gawddamn! I'm excited now!
Sometimes procrastination brings good things...
...Wish you were here.
But today's moment is brought to you by procrastination and discovery, which led to a huge breakthrough.
A couple of weeks ago, I went into the deep recesses of the storage closet in the office. My goal? To retrieve two Winnie the Pooh soundtracks on vinyl, stored in an old trunk. Sometimes I forget everything that is stored in that trunk, so I was surprised when I found all of my old scripts from various productions I was in. I decided to pull them out with the intention of moving them to one of the bookcases--sort of a reminder of those days when I still performed--but then I got tired after putting everything back in the closet, so I just left the scripts in a small pile of items I meant to do something with.
Etienne made a comment today about what I intended to do with the pile, so while he sat down to watch the Habs game, I went in and grabbed the scripts. To my surprise and delight, I didn't just find my old scripts, I found *my* old scripts. On occasion, I was tapped or assigned to write a brief script or a scene for a project, and somehow in my youth, I had the sense enough to keep copies. Found:
-A scene I co-wrote with two classmates for a Drama 101 class during my first attempt at college.
-A script of a movie I had written scenes for with members of my high school drama club (produced with a social work student).
-A script for a short two-scene play I wrote about teens and drunk driving for a Students Against Drinking and Driving event.
As I read what I wrote back when I was 16 and 17 years old, I was quite astounded; while these are the works of a teenager, they each contained lines and directions that were quite sharp, pointed, or witty. I inexplicably became irritated...why hadn't anyone encouraged me to explore this more?
Anyway, the breakthrough happened shortly after. I've been struggling for a couple of weeks to answers some questions and solve some outstanding character and plot point issues, in particular a major change for the protagonist, and suddenly, with a comment from Etienne related to a dialogue exchange in one of the scripts, I had some answers. Good ones. I still need to do some work to manage a few more questions/issues, but gawddamn! I'm excited now!
Sometimes procrastination brings good things...
...Wish you were here.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
May 4/13
Seriously Abdelkader, what did I just. fucking. say?
It's game three, and Imma lose my shit because Detroit is currently losing, which I will blame on Abdelkader's dumbass, open-ice, flying Walleda hit.
Yes people, it's quite possible to acknowledge when a member of your team does a bad.
Grrrr....
...Wish you were here.
It's game three, and Imma lose my shit because Detroit is currently losing, which I will blame on Abdelkader's dumbass, open-ice, flying Walleda hit.
Yes people, it's quite possible to acknowledge when a member of your team does a bad.
Grrrr....
...Wish you were here.
Friday, May 3, 2013
May 3/13
I'll admit, I've been drinking. A lot. I started at 1 pm, and stopped at 6 pm, and in that time, I managed six beers. And I'm still feeling damn close to sober.
Today's adventure was sponsored by a work retreat. It's been a crushingly busy few months for my team, and we needed that break, away from the office. We headed for a bar in the market that could provide much needed release through games, bowling, pool, etc. And of course, the drinks. Not that many people on my team actually drink, but when team social events are planned, they are done so bearing in mind that we have one guy (on a team of eight), who is a punk-rocking badass who doesn't buy into team building through wholesome ice cream socials, and we have one woman who prefers socializing to be a bit salty (me).
By the end of the afternoon, the two team misfits were left to continue drinking, which gave us the opportunity to talk. We don't often talk, but we sort of get what the other person is about, and that made it easy to develop a rapport. While it was largely shop-talk and career talk, it was a casual, easy conversation. Etienne joined us after work, and they know each other (also from work), so it was easy to keep going on. Time just got away on me, and I kept drinking, but I remained astoundingly clearheaded. I'd slur slightly at times, but otherwise, the world wasn't turning, and I wasn't falling all over myself (or anyone else).
Sometimes, you get lucky...
...Wish you were here.
Today's adventure was sponsored by a work retreat. It's been a crushingly busy few months for my team, and we needed that break, away from the office. We headed for a bar in the market that could provide much needed release through games, bowling, pool, etc. And of course, the drinks. Not that many people on my team actually drink, but when team social events are planned, they are done so bearing in mind that we have one guy (on a team of eight), who is a punk-rocking badass who doesn't buy into team building through wholesome ice cream socials, and we have one woman who prefers socializing to be a bit salty (me).
By the end of the afternoon, the two team misfits were left to continue drinking, which gave us the opportunity to talk. We don't often talk, but we sort of get what the other person is about, and that made it easy to develop a rapport. While it was largely shop-talk and career talk, it was a casual, easy conversation. Etienne joined us after work, and they know each other (also from work), so it was easy to keep going on. Time just got away on me, and I kept drinking, but I remained astoundingly clearheaded. I'd slur slightly at times, but otherwise, the world wasn't turning, and I wasn't falling all over myself (or anyone else).
Sometimes, you get lucky...
...Wish you were here.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
May 2/13
It's game two between the Ducks and the Red Wings tonight, and I really need Detroit to pull out all the stops for a win tonight. They need the same focus they had in the last four games of the regular season, which lead to them dominating those games. In game one, they sort of let the game be dictated by penalties and the stupid taunts of Corey Perry.
Sadly, it's been a worse opener for Etienne's Habs. I'm sorry, but that Gryba hit on Eller was bad, and if that shit had happened in Football, Basketball, Soccer, etc., it would be illegal. So why is it "legal" (depending on your point of view) in hockey? Hell, if that hit had happened on a street somewhere, it would definitely be illegal. It would be assault. I hate seeing that shit in hockey. I really do think it demeans the game. And I'm so sick of hearing that it's okay because "it's part of the game." Games change and evolve. It's time to make this change, and stop abiding cheap, bullshit open-ice hits like that. I want to see skill and gamesmenship, not goons on skates and cheap shots. Take that shit to the octagon with all the other fighting sports.
Hockey evolution...
...Wish you were here.
Sadly, it's been a worse opener for Etienne's Habs. I'm sorry, but that Gryba hit on Eller was bad, and if that shit had happened in Football, Basketball, Soccer, etc., it would be illegal. So why is it "legal" (depending on your point of view) in hockey? Hell, if that hit had happened on a street somewhere, it would definitely be illegal. It would be assault. I hate seeing that shit in hockey. I really do think it demeans the game. And I'm so sick of hearing that it's okay because "it's part of the game." Games change and evolve. It's time to make this change, and stop abiding cheap, bullshit open-ice hits like that. I want to see skill and gamesmenship, not goons on skates and cheap shots. Take that shit to the octagon with all the other fighting sports.
Hockey evolution...
...Wish you were here.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
May 1/13
Three years ago today, on a partly cloudy Saturday morning, I moved
into a small one bedroom studio apartment in the basement of a
building. My first ever solo-living experience. That morning, I got
up, checked out of my hotel, got into my oversized U-Haul rental, and
drove seven blocks to meet my friend Jeff's then-girlfriend (now wife)
at Jeff's new apartment. When I left Vancouver, I brought his stuff
with me, and in return, she graciously offered to help me move my stuff
into my apartment. We got almost everything into my place before
Etienne and Brent showed up, but we conspired to leave the heavier, more
awkward stuff for the menfolk. Alexis left, the guys duly unloaded the
big stuff, we returned the truck to the U-Haul depot, and headed out
for lunch and beer, on me.
I had no way of knowing on that day that Etienne had made up his mind to enter into a relationship with me, and it took another couple of weeks for that to become clear, but after lunch, instead of going off with Brent, he came back to my place to help me unpack. It was something of an audition, now that I think back on it. As he unpacked my stuff, he was watching my life unfold before him: the books I read, the music I listened to, the movies I enjoyed, and the keepsakes I kept. I'd hate to think that his opinion of me rose and declined based on the varied collections he unpacked; I own the three-volume bound collection of the Letters of Vincent and Theo Van Gogh, but I also own a paperback book titled Sexual Astrology. Who knows what he thought he was getting into.
Love it or hate it, three years on from that day, he's accepted that a lot of strange, silly or bad books, movies, music, etc. has become part of his landscape.
Three-years-ago Fancy...
...Wish you were here.
I had no way of knowing on that day that Etienne had made up his mind to enter into a relationship with me, and it took another couple of weeks for that to become clear, but after lunch, instead of going off with Brent, he came back to my place to help me unpack. It was something of an audition, now that I think back on it. As he unpacked my stuff, he was watching my life unfold before him: the books I read, the music I listened to, the movies I enjoyed, and the keepsakes I kept. I'd hate to think that his opinion of me rose and declined based on the varied collections he unpacked; I own the three-volume bound collection of the Letters of Vincent and Theo Van Gogh, but I also own a paperback book titled Sexual Astrology. Who knows what he thought he was getting into.
Love it or hate it, three years on from that day, he's accepted that a lot of strange, silly or bad books, movies, music, etc. has become part of his landscape.
Three-years-ago Fancy...
...Wish you were here.
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