Snippets

* This sculpture figures prominently at one of my worksites. I'm always fixated on the three breasts.

* Sometimes life is like a University of Pain. It's the extracurricular activities that bring joy and love.

* The thing about "coming out" is this: Life is ultimately easier to live when you have nothing to hide. This is the most compelling argument I can offer.

* Jobs that reward dishonesty: salesperson, politician, lobbyist, evangelist.

* You learn by doing, not by reading. Until you do it, it's only a supposition.

* I've noticed that trees generally lose their leaves from the top down. In spring, the leaves appear first at the bottom and then rise to the top. So. The lower leaves "live" longer.

* A fly lives but 10 days. It seems cruel to squash them.

* I have seen a sprite.

* Proverbially, you mustn't:
- count chickens prior to their hatching
- judge a book by its cover
- disturb a sleeping dog
- fix something that isn't broken
- put all of one's eggs into a single basket
- put the cart before the horse
- call a kettle black (particularly if you are a pot)

* Every great advance in science has been subsequently disproven. Makes you wonder about the term "scientific fact."

* I have bungee jumped, ridden in a glider and performed the duties of a jury foreman.

* The same guy who designed Central Park in New York also designed Montreal's Mount Royal Park. Frederick Law Olmsted.

* I really can't fathom the importance of whether or not someone "believes" in God. Yet some people believe this distinction is worth killing for. (Or at the very least, casting aspersion.)

----------------------------

Just a note to let you know that due to the move, I'll be taking a short break from the puter. I wish everyone a wonderful weekend and I'll see you sometime next week. (I'm shooting for Tuesday.) Ciao!

Mini rant

So last week when we came to realize that we had to buy a new fridge for the tenants, we went on line and ordered from Home Depot. The next day, we were told the item was "backordered". So I went on foot to shop and found one that could be delivered Wednesday at the earliest. (yesterday) The one I wanted (and which was the same price) had two separate doors for the freezer and fridge components. It, however, was on backorder. The one I then selected had the freezer inside the fridge, which we all know is less desirable. Availability was the deciding factor, and since it was, I bought it.

They delivered the wrong fridge. The one they delivered had no freezer inside. The tenants called. We called the store. They gave us the warehouse number. We called and will now have to wait until Friday or Saturday for them to rectify the error.

In addition, the tenants complained that the fridge would have a freezer inside instead of separate. We have been breaking our backs bending over to lick these kids asses, and this is what you get.

Sometimes, you just can't win.

The state of things

The house is a shambles. Boxes everywhere. The fridge is bare and the pantry contents are boxed up. It's times like this I loathe being a consumer. There are still unopened boxes in the basement from when we moved here two years ago and now we're going to lug them over to the new place. Anybody want a complete set of encyclopedia? They seem obsolete now that we've got Wikipedia online.

I can't believe we procrastinated for two years on fixing up this place. We've put in about 20 hours each and are almost done. Especially considering that I had two months off this summer (and last).
Every time I move, I say to myself, "This is the last time."

It never is though.

Procrastinator

I have six minutes to complete this post. I've prepared nothing, nor have I anything in mind on which to pontificate. I'd love to regale you with more tales of pornstar, or rant about the landslide of things that need to be done before we move Sunday, but (now there's four minutes) details are really not that important.

It's like school. I don't remember most of the details I learned in school. Mostly, I learned how to manage my time, how to do someone else's bidding, how to change my behaviour in different environments. (say Gymclass vs Biology)

I'm rallying those skills I learned way back when in order to accomplish everything . And I still have no need for the details. Dates of wars, the impact of the industrial revolution, mitochondria and the mechanics of recession do not aid so much in real life.

Now why wasn't there a class on avoiding procrastination? (I'm done now, with 4 seconds to spare.)

I get hate mail

Every once in a while, I find some hystrionic tirade in my inbox. It's always an anonymous commenter of course, and sometimes I have trouble finding which post the comment was left on. This was the case this morning. What I find over and over again is that the most vicious of comments are always replete with spelling errors and exude closed-mindedness.

Here are some gems:

* If your a left wing communist loser that loves to rape children up there ass because your gay, than Montreal is the place for you.

Wow, four errors in one sentence. And the sentiment just warms the cockles (I said cock, tee hee) of my heart.

* I could go on and on, but I must say Quebec women are sluts, putes, all have AIDS, ugly, disgusting, they look like men with lipstick, and we are a disgusting melting pot

Ten bucks says you're single and bitter.

* And oh by the way, the Anglos used to control Montreal when it was prosperous; lets just say downtown Montreal is equivalent to bombed out Iraq

All I see downtown is new construction and working people. I would use the word "vibrant" to describe it. Your comparison is like saying broccoli is equivalent to ice cream.

If you want to read the full text of the comment, it's on the post from Sep 6th.

While I'm horrified at the sentiment, I'm also grateful for this morning's blog fodder that it supplied.

In contention for boringest post

What to write about. Hmmm. The weather? Always good for a laugh, that. (It's muggy and rainy.) There is a report of Bin Laden's death being played down by world leaders. Seems he got sick with the typhoid. If true, that would mean he had ingested feces-tainted water containing Salmonella bacteria. It's probably untrue though, we'll see.

The renovation continues, as does the unstaunchable flow of dollars. It seems my old nemesis Visa and I have reconciled, and I keep trying to reassure myself by saying, "At least you're getting airmiles." Today, we've got a few places to sand and reputty, and a few more baseboards and moldings to put up, and then we're all done but the painting.

We scheduled the moving truck for next Sunday. We don't even have any boxes yet. And there's this piddly little matter of working all week. Looks like we'll have to pull all this together next Saturday. (This is a paragraph I would normally delete, but since we're competing for boringest post....)

Woke up at 3am this morning and then stayed in bed, flipping this way and that, spouse having fallen asleep on the couch. He is actually getting up right now as I type, the earliest I think I've ever seen him rise. Good. Time to get to work. Good Sunday everyone.

I'm not always PC

Once I said to a coworker, "Why are you acting like such a selfish bitch?" Okay, maybe I shouted it within earshot of her customers. She burst into tears and ran off the floor. (This is restaurant speak for leaving the public serving area.) Management had to service her tables for a while before she was able to regain her composure.

It was New Year's Eve.

At the end of my shift, the owner wished to speak to me. I was given a warning and told that calling another employee a bitch was grounds for termination. I explained what had led up to my outburst (owner then realized how tame the word bitch was in this situation) and pointed out that I hadn't called her a bitch, I had only questioned why her behaviour resembled that of a bitch.

The owner smiled and even stifled a laugh and tore up the written warning.

Now, I can't even remember the bitch's name.

Snippets

* Trees are individuals too. Here's one who has donned a yellow coat before his brethren.

* I believe in the three M's: Modesty, moderation and manners.

* When I was young, my father had one of those label makers that were all the rage then. He used it to affix a message on my bathroom mirror. "Don't do it the easy way. Do it the best way." (This was to spur better brushing of teeth.) I still struggle to follow this sound advice.

* Hexagons are big in nature. Snowflake and honeycomb for example.

* If I'm pollyanna, spouse is mr. pissy. Together we are balance.

* Sometimes I open gifts and think, "Crap, another thing to dust."

* I'm an INTJ on the Meyers-Briggs personality scale.

* It's probably true that none of us has had an original thought. Surely someone has thought the same thing before you. There are exceptions. Einstein, for one.

* "Back ordered" means "We don't have it and we don't know if we can get it but we'll take your money anyway."

Spotty

I just have time for a quickie this morning. I'm so behind on everything because new "surprises" keep popping up. My blogosphere presence will most likely be spotty for the next couple of weeks.

Remember that fridge? It's shot. Apparently when you seal up a fridge like that, odors impregnate the insulation. It is suggested that you make the fridge into a "soda fridge" and put it outside since it will likely take months (if ever) for the odor to diminish. We ordered a new one last night from Home Depot.

Oh and our new tenants found used syringes behind the armoire. They arrived from France last week. Welcome to Quebec. (Honestly, we are mor-ti-fied about this.)

There's more (like the underside of the mattress that looks like a woman gave birth on it), but it's all just too painful and messy.

I know that sagas are long, but I also understand that they have endpoints. I sure hope the end of this one is near. Sigh.

And by today, I mean yesterday

Today I saw a man in front of the library. He walked up to the large public ashtray and pulled open the top to inspect the bin below. There, he poked and prodded and found a suitable butt for smoking. He took four drags once he lit it and then threw it to the ground before entering the library.

Today I saw a man holding the hand of another man on the subway.

Today I saw a man behind the wheel of a moving truck attempting to navigate into an alley. He didn't quite make the turn and had to reverse a bit in order to do so. The trouble was, he couldn't ge it into gear despite the mocking of his peers who had jumped out to direct. The crowded bus I was on was stuck behind this poor guy as he tried and tried, the grinding of metal announcing each failure. As the vexation of the passengers increased, they began to holler out the windows. Finally, red faced and sweaty, the guy did it. Nobody applauded, though he deserved it.

Today I saw a man in a wheelchair drooling. "Pencils 25 cents" read the sign in his lap.

Today I saw a man wearing the full sissy kit. As he sashayed on the subway quai, all eyes were upon him. (I love my people.)

It's a malady

The culling of materiel has begun. Moving always sucks (there is no thesaurus entry for sucks with this meaning) and it's very important to rid yourself of everything unnecessary before you move. Going through the boxes stored in the basement, I found all my important papers from 1990-1995. I don't know why I still have this box, I had stored a few at my dad's house when I moved to Canada, and I guess he sent them to me subsequently. Anyway, it's so strange to see my writing and lists from so long ago. Writing in codes that I don't understand anymore. Who was this person who saved every scrap of financial paper? And I found my budget books. For years I wrote down every penny I made and spent on a daily basis. (I was a waiter.) At the end of each month, I added up the columns to find what had consumed the most resources, and then tried to adjust my spending habits based on the information.

It's why I drink tap water and cut coupons.

Though I don't do the budget book anymore, the self training has ultimately been a good thing.

I just wish I could let myself splurge sometimes.

Rotting potatoes

Look like this:

Unfortunately there is no Yousmell.com (though that's a million dollar idea, eh?) for you to fully appreciate what an assault on one's senses they are. I suppose eventually this fecund spud-matter could be rendered into vodka.

I threw up the moment after I took this picture. (See what I put myself through to bring my life to life for you?)

These potatoes were inside of a refridgerator at the new place. Pornstar had decided that it would be better to seal the entire fridge with duct tape instead of cleaning it out. And then, as a bonus, he unplugged the fridge - all the better for festering don't ya know.

We had to clean it out and tidy up the newly available apartment. (Because pornstar kicked out the old tenant who was apparently a junkie and a perpetrator of robbery. Oh but he didn't mention any of that to us until he had already done it. Even though we're the owners. We had to chastise him severely for this and talk to the police. He doesn't seem to take chastising well.)

Since it appears we are no longer on speaking terms with pornstar (a child he is, plain and simple) I foresee other little surprises. (And I sure hope he's not reading this, lol)

The good news is that he and his wife have found a new place to live and will be out within two weeks.

Working on the weekend

We have two more weekends after this one to finish prepping the apartment we're in for new renters. (Just so everyone is on the same page: We live in a triplex that we own and we are moving into the fiveplex that we just bought.) In about five hours yesterday, we completed quite a bit of patching which makes me shake my head at how we procrastinated for two full years on it.

Spouse: I hate renovating. (He is standing on the ladder placing a piece of molding for measuring)

Me: I know, me too. But we could choose to love it.

Spouse: No, I hate it. Hand me a pencil.

Me: (handing him pencil.) But we have three weekends of this, we have no choice but to do it. Don't you think if we can stay away from the attitude of hating it, that it might be a little easier.

Spouse: No, I hate it. (probably wishing he could slap me)



This morning we've got to go over to the new place and change a couple of locks, replace a broken window, and take inventory of the things that were stolen. Then more work here this afternoon sanding and placing moldings and baseboards. Scintillating, huh?

Cul serré

I swear I wasn't fishing for compliments yesterday, but it sure was nice to receive them!

The goal this weekend is to finish the bathroom. The problem with our apartment is that we renovated everything but didn't really finish. So a couple walls are still unpatched and painted, there are lots of moldings and baseboards to install. The piddly jobs that we procrastinated on for over a year. (Yes I know that's not a complete sentence.)

We already had a row over the "finishing". Our disputes always go something like this:

Spouse: We have to replace the baseboard heater in the bedroom.

Me: Why? It works fine.

Spouse: It's old and it's going to break soon. Plus look how ugly it is. A new white one will look so much better.

Me: It's a rental unit! Why replace something that works.

Spouse: It's forty dollars. That's nothing.

Me: It's wrong thinking is what it is. This is a business. We live in a shitty neighborhood. There's no point in styling out the place.

Spouse: I'll pay for it.

Me: Pfft.

I imagine this conversation will play out in many forms in the coming weeks. I think I feel my inner tightwad surfacing.

Snippets

* Life is an adventure. Adventure carries risks. Embrace it.

* I just realized we're a half million dollars in debt.

* Apparently, the shooting here was carried out by a man whose fave games were "Postal" and "Columbine Massacre", role playing games where you can "be" the killer in the tragic news events as they really happened. My question is what kind of a person develops and markets such a game? What next? Fly planes into buildings with the new game, 9-11 Hijacker. With the slogan: "Only the devoted reach their targets. Can you?"


* There has been a dearth of photos of late. So I took this one yesterday during my break downtown. God I'm looking old.

* If human beings are borne of nature, then these shooting events are, like it or not, as "natural" as earthquakes and tsunamis. (And killing stingrays.)

* It always feels better to be grateful for what you have than to covet what you don't. Always.

* Every vegan I've ever met strikes me as sickly.

* The first concert I ever attended was "The Little River Band".

* Ever wonder where the expression "the spitting image" came from? Could be nasty don't you think?

* The shooter had a blog. In it, he detailed his desire for mayhem and his love of assault weapons. This begs the question, "Where do the limits of freedom of expression end and the security of the population begin?" Since 9-11, the U.S has been soul searching the same question.

* Oh yeah, Pink Martini is a band and China Forbes is the singer. You can see a nice vid here. Here's a guy (not me!) who lipsyncs one of their songs. The title of yesterday's post comes from that. (Which was like winking at myself since I knew no one would get the reference.)

Puis, je, fume.

It appears we had a Columbine-esque event here yesterday. Though we are well, the city spirit is bruised.

We have decided to move to the new place and spend the next four weeks repairing everything here in order to do so.

Spouse informed pornstar that he has to move as we are going to take his apartment. (He offered to pay for a year up front, but we want nothing to do with him anymore.) If our first impression of pornstar was of drooling adoration, the behaviour since has reversed any trace of this impression.

We went to see Pink Martini in concert last night. China Forbes is fucking fabulous. It was nice to forget our woes for a moment.

It's raining.

When spouse talked to the police yesterday, they found our situation highly amusing. This was not entirely comforting.

If you can't be with the one you love, honey, love the one you're with. (They mean yourself, don't they?)

Sorry about the jaggedness of my thoughts. We've got a serious month ahead of us, and it's early. Must go. Love to all....

Sorry, must be vague

There's already drama over at the new place. I can't really go into details here, but let's just say someone has been fibbing about things. And the same someone who has been fibbing now wants to stay for another year. It's always fun to be showing a potential renter an apartment when the occupant decides at that moment to express the desire to stay.

There's more to the story including pawn shops, robbery, broken window, blood and syringes. Oh yeah and a police report that may or may not exist.

The long and short of this is that spouse and I are seriously considering moving over there now. It looks like the money troubles have only just begun! So exciting! (smell, won't you, my conflagrant sarcasm.)

Might as well giggle along with the gods above, since it is they who have orchestrated all of this for their amusement.

I sense more sleepless nights coming.......

What's the difference between Roast Beef and Pea Soup?

Give up?

Anyone can Roast Beef. (I know, I know, I'm always telling the same damn jokes.)

Bush addressed the nation last night. Did you see it? See how he continues to insist on pronouncing it nukular? He's been doing that for what, 6 years now? I half expected him to say "amotic" too. As usual, I hurled balled up papers at the screen. As he babbled on about the "necessity" for war in Iraq, you know, to render the world "safer", I couldn't stop remembering his reaction to events five years ago, and his subsequent insistence on invading a country based on information he knew to be untrue.

And I felt rage at my countrymen with their heads up their asses for putting him in power.

Just look at him! Does he inspire confidence and trust? He looks like a bumbling buffoon to me.

Nukular!

(This is what happens when you're tired of being tired and the muse is on sabbatical.)

Five years ago

It was another ordinary day of teaching to do. I got to work at 8:45 so I could make copies and set up the classroom for the day's lessons. Two Spanish students had just returned from a trip to New York and had pictures with them. We saw them in Times Square, the Statue of Liberty and atop the twin towers. I thought about the times I had visited that rooftop platform, the view, the immensity of the humanity below. After two hours of grammar, we took a short break before the conversation workshop began. I had five minutes to run outside and smoke and run through in my head the activities I had planned for the next two classroom hours. I was pacing on the sidewalk when a taxi pulled up to the curb and dropped a young man off. He ran up to me and said:

"Did you hear about the twin towers? They're gone!"

"What? Why..."

"Two planes hit the towers and they collapsed!"

"Why are you telling me this, it's not funny."

"Seriously, man! I just heard it on the radio in the taxi. We're under attack by terrorists."

The young man ran off. I didn't know what to think. I thought he was just another crazy stalking downtown. Though he was in a taxi. Shit, I can't think about this, I've got a class to teach.

I went back upstairs and found all the students huddled around a radio, listening. My heart sunk. No, no no. And I sat and listened to the frenetic reports being aired. After an hour, we all talked about it. Some students weren't surprised, the US had it coming. The two Spaniards were stricken, their faces drained of colour. Mostly we all felt insecure, most of us far from our families (the students were from abroad) and the threat of further attack shook us all.

Finally, at 1pm, I left work and walked down Ste Catherine street dazed and saddened when I came upon a crowd assembled at the corner of Peel. A la Times Square, there was a large electric billboard above the intersection with CNN being broadcast. It was there that I saw the images come to life of what I had only heard about until then. For 45 minutes I stood there, sensing the sea change in the world, mourning. There was no sound, but the images were riveting.

Then I went home and watched tv just like the rest of the world. I kept thinking, "why do they hate us so much" and "what have we done to engender such hatred, and how can we repair it?" I mean c'mon, it takes two to tango.

In my weaker moments, I might have thought, "let's bomb the hell out of the arabs".

But mostly, I felt overwhelming sadness.

Nuthin' much

I'm glad Sunday is here. After spending all day yesterday getting caught up on my lesson planning, Serge and I enjoyed having dinner with our friend Dan, a good friend of long duration who arrived bearing libations. We laughed, told jokes and shared pictures.

I got sucked into the "twin towers" show on Discovery this week and I can't shake some of the images. I realize I've shunned anything to do with that event for many years. And now that stupid show has infiltrated my dreams. Twice now, I've woken up because of the same dream. I'm trapped on the upper floors and I break open a window and jump out. I look for my parachute and realize I don't have one and then wake up at the point of impact. Damn discovery channel.

Perhaps I'll write about that surreal day tomorrow.

For now, I'm grateful for another day, a warm bed, a hot meal. I think I'll spend the day sitting in gratitude. Peace.

Squirrel dance

I just went outside for a morning cig and coffee on the patio. A bold squirrel came within two feet of me and stood up with his little hands in the air. (So humanlike, those hands.) Never one to say no to a query from wildlife, I went inside to get him something. A little dog kibble perhaps? No, no, might as well have brought out shit sandwiches. Hmmm. Nuts, that must be what they want. So I went back inside and found some sesame seed covered snacks, and brought those out. Bingo! I think he would have eaten out of my hand if I'd have let him, but after what happened to the crocodile hunter...... But then he took the snack and went into the yard, dug a little hole, covered the hole back up with dirt and then patted it down pattycake style. Then he came back. Another more skittish squirrel joined this dance and I fed them both, one by one, and then they buried. After burying two or three in my yard, they started going to the next yard and burying them there. As they were both burying their snacks next door, the neighbor came out with a broomstick. Shrieking and whacking at the squirrels, they fled and she chased and then whacked the fence a last time for final measure. Clack! I hid my snacks and smirked at my guilt.

They say most oak trees are born of squirrels burying the acorns and then forgetting where they buried them.

Snippets

* Why is it that the older we get, the more prudent we become? The logical behaviour would be to be more prudent when you are young, because you've got so much lifetime to lose.

* The tomato plant exploded with blossoms last week and now sports a dozen new baby tomatoes. I hope they get a move-on because the first frost is only a couple weeks away.

* I've always liked pop music. I have been informed more than once that this makes me a "musical retard", for lack of better words. It used to bother me, now I just think f&*% you.

* I'll take "depth of compassion" over "strength of conviction" anyday.

* In 75 years everyone you know and love will be dead (including yourself). My point? Stop taking everything so seriously.

* Here's why I'll never master gender in French. Vagina is masculine and beard is feminine.

* I'd like to add to the cultural fashion rules. In addition to white, flipflops are not to be worn after labor day.

* In related news, cracked, scaly heels are just gross.

* I have about as much interest in Tom's baby as I do for the mechanics of tampons.

* If the diversity of the human species is mirrored in other species, maybe that killer stingray was just (unluckily for Steve) schizophrenic.

* My favorite blog line this week came from Dirk. Re-installing the mother fucking programs, however, was harder than Woody Allen at an asian orphanage. I'll have you know Dirk, that this constitutes the highest form of flattery.

A brother!

It's the first day of a new class, and I've just finished my abridged version of the road to Montreal. It's now time to learn a bit about the three men in front of me. There's J, young, bright and studious looking telling us about his wife of four years and their new baby. The baby slept through the night after two weeks. Cluck cluck, lucky man. Next P talks about his life with his partner, he doesn't need no stinking marriage certificate, the kids know who their parents are. He's a man of his years, direct and to the point. Next we have S, married for 2 years, just bought a condo.

"Do you have any children yet, S?"

"No."

"Why not?" (I suddenly realize the indelicacy of the question, but too late it's already out of my mouth. Cut me some slack, it's 7:30 in the morning for chrissakes.)

"Because HE cannot have a baby."

"That's the best answer I've heard yet! Welcome to the class S."


(Btw, I dislike writing in the present tense.)

Top ten reasons I love it here

6 years ago today, I arrived in Montreal to live permanently. I was 35 and we arrived with 2 boxes, 2 suitcases, 1 computer and our dog. It hasn't taken long to fill every nook and cranny in the house with crap, you would never believe we "started" accumulating just 6 years ago. And while I miss the proximity of family and good friends enormously, Skype and frequent visits to California have lessened the pain somewhat. I can't imagine wanting to live anywhere else than here, so I must be in the right place. If only there was no February on the calendar.......

10. No car! A car is more of an impediment here than anything. No tickets, registration, insurance, horns, accidents. Letting other people drive is really the way to go. Luckily, with public transportation so efficient, one doesn't need to be wealthy enough for a private chauffeur.

9. All the terrible "fried and fatty" foods that we learn to shun in California are staples here. No more guilt over french fries. (In fact, we build whole MEALS around them.)

8. Dedicated bike paths. The city is riddled with them. I've timed it, and I can beat the bus on my bike.

7. The question is not "if " you give to beggars, it's "how".

6. Going to the doctor costs nothing.

5. I speak two languages, as do most denizens of the city. I can't explain exactly how that translates to tolerance, but it does.

4. The city takes pride in and supports its gay population and activities.

3. Summer in Montreal is a two month party. Seriously. (and yes, summer lasts two months here)

2. Smoking might be harmful to your health, but it doesn't make you low class. (yet)

1. You can still rent a one bedroom apartment for yourself for under $500. Electricity included. (If we go broke on real estate, we can always rent a cheap apartment!)

Free weed

Ran into our old upstairs neighbor yesterday. We sold our loft in his building and moved here (2 blocks away) 18 months ago. He had some interesting news to share with us. The ground floor condo in the building was sold in March ostensibly to transform what was an appliance shop into a residential condo. They heard the hammering and machines but they rarely saw the owner. (It's a fourplex building) Anyway, next door, there was a fire last week and the firemen came and put it out and then came to their building to make sure no fire had spread. (It hadn't but there was a good deal of smoke.) That was when they discovered a hydroponic plant operation in the basement with a thousand marijuana plants. The firemen confiscated the bags of finished product and cut the tops off all the growing plants and turned off all the machinery. The owner of the unit was (surprise, surprise) not around.

The police picked him up the next day.

A couple days later, a terrible smell started to permeate the building. A rotting smell. An instant gag tickler. Enraged, the other unit owners went down the fire exit and axed down the inside door to the ground unit. The plants were rotting and the room was stiflingly humid. Mold covered all the corners of the walls. So they had to dispose of all this stuff to get rid of the smell. In the end, they had 39 trash bags of plant material. A little nervous about the contents, they called the city to tell them what they were putting out to be picked up.

But when the trash people arrived, only 3 bags remained on the sidewalk.

Gotta love this neighborhood.

Bizarro

(I decided that it would be more prudent to repost this once we are disentangled with this person. I'll put this post back up in thirty days.)

Opening the box

And to think I thought my problem was on the outside. Silly me.

Blog day off

Blogger dumped my post. Too much to do to rewrite. Nothing interesting to report anyway. Peace.

Snippets

* We closed escrow yesterday. The porn star house is ours. Yippee!

* In extreme cheap mode, I will cut the toothpaste tube in half when it's "done" and then I can scrape out two more brushings worth.

* I need to put "worrying" in the same category as "guilt", both useless emotional exercises.

* Uh oh. The trees are yellowing.

* Wednesday's discussion was fascinating. I especially liked Marc's comment about "critical thinking". Faith is the opposite of critical thinking. (In saying that, I may be inviting diatribes, but whatever.)

* Sara is getting old. She's 12 now. We're mixing in wet with her dry food to enhance her enjoyment of her twilight years.

* Productivity gives a person a sense of value. Overproductivity gives a person an ulcer. Slothlike behaviour induces ennui. Do you see why balance is so important?

* I still haven't opened the box.

* Working on labor day is like being born on Christmas.

* There's a fine line between glib and pithy. This snippet would qualify as glib.

Confession

It's no use hiding it, I'm a smoker. Part of that whole sick/depressed episode centered on my disgust for my failure. It reminded me of my adolescence, and the self-loathing for my attraction to men.

This next part is complete bullshit and a cowardly rationalization.

Two times now, I have quit smoking yet spouse didn't. Both times I lasted about five months as a non-smoker. I just don't seem to be able to "keep the strength" when faced with it morning noon and night. If only he would quit too.

And this part is hopefully not complete bullshit.

I'll be trying quitting again in the upcoming months, but after the stress of sinking the life savings into a property diminishes. (Incidentally, "diminishes" would be in the future tense, were you speaking French.)

Silver lining?

Black market cigs are $20 a carton. I like to think of this as an opportunity to stick it to the man.

(Please don't flog me - I've done enough of that to myself.)

What God says

For me, the first week of school is pretty easy. This is because we sit around and talk about what the students want to get out of the class and generally catch up or get to know one another. The big crunch is this weekend when I have to coalesce all this information and plan the next 14 weeks of classes. (Thank god for templates.)

I have a good schedule in the financial sense, but the fact that I have to leave the house at quarter to six on Tuesday and Thursday is regrettable. And by regrettable, I mean suicide inducing. True, I am a morning person, but not really the pre-dawn kind.

Yesterday was the first test of the new before dawn routine and true to form, I tossed and turned the night before unable to sleep. I arrived bleary-eyed (what does that mean really? I'll go look. Okay, it means dull or dim relating to sight.) Two of the students were on vacation, so I had a private class with Khalil. We had a good long talk about the Middle East conflict and then we talked more about religion in general. My job is to get the students talking, it is not to argue points of view with the students. It was very difficult to hold my tongue at a couple of points:

Q: Hey what do you think about that story in the paper today about the five guys who were decapitated in Saudi Arabia for possession of hashish? Don't you think that's a harsh punishment when there isn't a victim?

A: I don't see anything particularly wrong about it. You know if you have a rotton tomato and you put it into the bag of good tomatoes, they all go bad.

Q: If all religions preach against killing, why do you think people kill others in the name of religion?

A: God says we must protect life and religion, because without life there can be no religion and vice versa. When either one is threatened, God says we must do what is just. (read: blow people up)

He went on to allude to the idea that anyone who isn't Muslim isn't really alive because life is pointless without Islam. The funny thing is that this guy is a warm caring funny individual who adores his wife and son. Also funny is that I am much more tolerant of this kind of fundamentalist talk than if it came from a Bible thumper. Still, it was all I could do not to roll my eyes when he said "God says...".

I'm scared to open the box

Directions for use: Apply freely morning and night and after each bowel movement. Lubricate applicator before each application and thoroughly cleanse after use.

First of all, freely isn't quite the concrete kind of word I would expect for "medication". I suppose it's something like "liberally" which I can get down with. If the BM is in the morning, does that also count as the morning application?

What the hell is an applicator? How do you lubricate it? (Oh wait, I learned that one in Brokeback Mountain. They must mean spit.) And is that so you don't have to use your own fingers? I think I'd rather just wash my hands after and do away with the whole "removing the excrement from and cleansing the applicator" part.

Shall I have spouse make a video of this?

Monday meme

Grab the nearest book. Open the book to page 123. Find the fifth sentence. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.

Of course, all this does not mean that the image "more is up" is wholly arbitrary. When water is poured into a bottle, for instance, the more water there is, the higher its level. And if apples are piled up in the larder, the more apples, the higher the pile, so the image "more is up" is clearly rooted in real life and based on experience.

This comes from "The Unfolding of Language - an evolutionary tour of mankind's greatest invention". I find this topic fascinating. I think language to a large extent determines many of our thinking mechanisms. If you don't have "have" or possessives (hers, his, ours etc.) in your language then you don't really understand the notion of ownership.

Sometimes I wonder if it's possible to have an ego without language. Because if it's not, then ego is born of language - and therefore "unreal".

Incidentally, I didn't know what a larder was either. (It's a synonym of "pantry")

If you feel so inclined, feel free to do this one. Thanks to Daniel who made this morning's topic hunt so eaaaaasy.

A diagonal slice

I've got no clue what to write about today. Distraction defines my current existence and it's all boring adult shit that's distracting me. They are calling for rain all day, and this is pleasing because I can ditch the whole "getting dressed" routine and putter about in my jammies. Spouse won't be stirring until noon.

Do you ever have that block when you have to do something? Like it isn't bad enough that you procrastinated, but then when all possibilities of further procrastination have been exhausted you simply refuse to accept the reality? And then you resent the task and yourself and you get yourself all worked up into a tizzy of hate? No? Maybe that's just me then.

I used a bread knife to cut a tomato and sliced open my finger instead yesterday. Spouse took the time to lay blame, charmer that he is. I still maintain that serrated edges are required for tomato cutting.

All right, if I keep going it will just degenerate into some kind of scatty talk. I'm going now.

Saturday morning blah blah

Summer vacation is over. It's back to school for me and many others on Monday. I'm broke ready. The road trip was a great way to break open the head, get out of the routine, and change focus. It was a lot of work and rain, but it doesn't matter, escaping the daily trap is all that really counts. The daily regime now seems new and appreciated again.

We signed papers at the bank yesterday AND there is a "sold" sign on the property now. I guess it's really happening. Friday we get the keys. And in a couple years we'll move in there. (We still have to finish fixing up here before we can move there.)

My mind is living in next week, even as I know there are still two free days to enjoy before it starts. Unfortunately I can't enjoy the now when my head is in the future. The kid inside me is gone that can ignore tomorrow. That takes drugs to achieve now.

What else? I dunno. I actually have Preparation H on my list for the drugstore today. True story.

Peace.

Road trip snippets

* New Brunswick is officially a bilingual province. Being a bilingual couple, we found ourselves speaking Frenglish with most people. The Acadians speak French but it is kind of anglisized. The accent was very interesting. Everyone in the province seemed able to communicate in either language. I kept thinking how harmonious the different subcultures seemed to blend together.

* Everywhere you look, you see the name "Irving". From paper mills to gas stations to nature preserves, you can't miss this name. I began referring to them as the "treekillers". To be fair, there seems to be nothing but forest for endless miles in New Brunswick.

* On our 13th anniversary of meeting one another, we donned bibs and gleefully devoured fresh snow crab. Prior to that, we stopped in at the Hilton for a martini in Saint John. It was $35 plus tip for them. I found this gall offputting.



* 1282 feet long.

* Some signs indicated you to turn just before the intersection, while other intersections had the signs posted on the corner after the intersection. This increased the spousal hostility level in the car. They should probably codify the placing of the signs. Just a suggestion.

* I insisted on following the signs to the world's largest axe. It was a small detour off the highway in a little podunk town. I couldn't picture the axe in my head, "Was it a REAL axe that a surly lumberjack used? Was it displayed inside of a case of some sort?" And then we rounded a corner and POW, this gigantic statue of an axe, or axe if you will, stuck in the ground at the top of a small riverside knoll. A smile inducing detour.

* There were "beware of moose" signs everywhere. Apparently collisions with the beasts kills hundreds every year. We never saw any though.



* It was pouring rain, and we went alone to see the Moncton tidal bore at 9:45pm as listed in the newspaper. It arrived ten minutes late just as we were about to give up. It was just a couple inches but thrilling nonetheless. We ran alongside it as it moved up the riverbed. Total geekdom.

* The ride from Miramichi to Grand Falls is one of the most grueling stretches of highway. Bumpy, curvy and solid forest on both sides of a road for HOURS with no towns or anything in between. You don't want to break down out there.

* I was fascinated by the whole "tide" thing. In Saint John, the river flows over some rocks into the bay. But when the tide comes in, the water flows over the rocks upriver. This is called the reversing falls. I dragged spouse down to the lookout points four times to see it during "stasis" (no movement) and at low and high tides. Finally he said, "Okay, this is the last time and then I don't want to hear anything more about the tides!"

* All in all a great trip. Next time though, we're flying in.



* We bought no souvenirs. This is the souvenir. Moving on now.

Road trip pics

The ride was long. 2500 kilometers (1600 miles) total. The first sunrise of the trip - Grand Falls New Brunswick.

It rained a lot. For the first three days we didn't see the sun. We did see the world's longest covered bridge though.

And the world's largest axe.

This church in Saint John reminded me of "Let's Make a Deal".

A view from the 18th century tower in Saint John constructed to protect against an American invasion.

Despite the rain, we managed to squeeze in 5 hikes.

The geese flying above a foggy salt marsh on the Bay of Fundy.

The Hopewell Rocks at low tide. This Easter Islandesque scene is created by the enormous tides. All of the green at the bottom of the rocks is seaweed. The tides vary some 42 feet every day.

When it goes out, vast mudflats are exposed. Serge went to investigate the mud.

We ate like kings. Crab, lobster and scallops were consumed each day. Spouse ate every bite of that plate.

Finally the last day we saw some sun and drove up the Acadian coast. Here, a two kilometer boardwalk straddles the beach and saltmarsh.

The water temp was swimmable. We just waded a bit though.

The flags of New Brunswick, Canada and Acadia.

We saw lots of lighthouses.

And an obligatory vacation sunset.

Tomorrow, a couple videos. Join us as we cross the world's longest covered bridge and as we prepare to view the Moncton tidal bore. No, we are not in our 70's. Oh and all the pictures are clickable for screen filling versions.

Snippets

* I watched a squirrel scoot along the entire length of the backyard fence, dog-with-an-anal-itch style, either scratching himself or "expressing" something on it. Then some birds came along and started sharpening their beaks on the top of the fence. Fascinating in a gross kind of way.

* Once you give your self permission, quantity is not an issue.

* A six day road trip to New Brunswick is at hand. We will visit the place with the highest tides in the world.

* Me being a dork.

* I don't know why, but I was really sad when I read that Patsy Ramsey had died. I may have loathed/pitied/loathed/pitied her, but I never wished death upon her. Only 49 years old.

* The house deal got financed. Apparently, the fourth bank is the charm. Barring the unforseen, we take possession in a couple weeks. I refuse to have any emotion about it until that time. (Spouse is beyond excited)

* Yesterday's discussion was quite thought provoking. I feel like my mind expanded. Thank you.

* Fork booger: matter which continues to adhere even after going through the dishwasher. Often seen in greasy diners.

* Have you seen the tea party? When I see that, I feel like peace is really possible. Unfortunately, others see it differently.

And now for something completely different

Fellow blogger Peter recently had a letter published in the Globe and Mail, a national English newspaper in Canada. (I read it once on the plane and found it to be quite conservative. When I read articles with that "bent", I find myself wanting to yell at the paper. So I haven't read it since. Yes I'm biased, and that's why.) It's always exciting to have one's words in print, and I remember the letter of mine that the LA Times printed 7 years ago. (I wrote to protest the Pilot's union protest against the idea of cameras in the cockpits. The union said it was an invasion of privacy. Please, no more jacking off while flying the plane.) Anyway, it was fun to read Peter's words in print but then yesterday, an article was printed by a well known journalist here who had interviewed Peter. Her article was received badly by many attendees of the World AIDS Conference currently taking place in Toronto. In fact, protests were organized to denounce her words and demand a retraction.

I love me some good drama, and the comments are interesting to read. Brian also has some things to say on the matter. (As I'm sure many other bloggers do, I'm just too lazy to go look.)

From what I can tell, it is out of the question to suggest that anyone who contracts the disease may have had some responsibility for contracting it. Even though there are those who willfully engage in unsafe sex with strangers without even having a conversation about status, we are not allowed to talk about them. In my mind, we must talk about them, because that's reality. There are many other realities on contracting the disease, that is merely one of them. I see how the media should be more sensitive (that irresponsibility isn't the only factor, hey-accidents do happen) and balanced so that the general impression isn't that everyone who contracts it deserves it in some way. That I see. But I don't think there is anything wrong in discussing how to encourage people to be more responsible for their own health. (hypocritical drinker and smoker that I am)

I was talking with my ex the other day. We talk once or twice a year. He works in a hospital as an HIV treatment advocate. He was telling me how much better it's gotten over the years with the meds but that he still sees people dying. The big problem around there is crystalmeth and all the patients have to do is take ONE pill a day to stay alive, but they can't even do that, and they die.

Sounds to me like taking crystal (I know of what I speak, I was young and crazy once) makes one completely irresponsible. Personally, I think this should be addressed and outed in the media more than "the people who knowingly engage in unsafe sex". It's the drugs, stupid. Or the booze.

Now I've talked myself onto the fence. Because how can I hold someone responsible for what they did when they were shit faced drunk or tweaking on meth? That's not quite fair is it? Still, I think the link between the shitfacedness and the contraction of the disease should have more prominence in the media.

I'm just thinking out loud here, feel free to do the same.

Is it sadistic to derive pleasure from others' discomfort?

You guys are so cute. I couldn't help grinning reading all the comments yesterday and seeing how everyone thought maybe I was talking about their blog. It's charming because everyone showed their insecurity, their humanness. It's like when I went out to California last month. I was confronted a couple of times over some of my blog's "pronouncements" because "obviously" I was referring to the person confronting me. It made me smile.

There are millions of blogs out there people. And they are not all fun to read. But trust me, if I have you on my list, I like you. Kay?

The fact is that we are all the center of our own universe. And necessarily so - we are ultimately responsible for ourselves. But at the same time, we long for others to make us the center of their universe. Oh the cosmic irony of it all.

I got some great writing advice once: Start with yourself, but don't finish with yourself. I'm sure I break this rule on the blog quite often but it's definitely true for the best posts.

This is not one of the best posts, egocentric and insecure as it is. (wink)

The last whine

In case you haven't noticed, I've been out of sorts lately. And there are several possible roots to the problem, most notable of which is the stinking cold virus I'm finally getting over. I see how the posts are getting smaller and smaller as I attempt to avoid the morass of moroseness. I'm not really all that fond of the "woe is me" kind of blogs that go on and on about problems. I'm sure they are cathartic for the writer, it just bores me as a reader (of course a witty pen will make up for that). I wonder if that has to do with upbringing. I come from a rather stiff lot, we empathize with your problems and then we expect you to suck it up. Anyway, I do not wish for this to be a place to moan about various maladies. Like the blister I got from the Pop Tarts frosting. (shut up, they were free with a coupon)

I prefer to paint my life with the "magical journey" spectacles. It's like Woody Allen. Does he really see his life as shown in Annie Hall and Manhattan? Yes and No. The reality surely differs, but the interpretation is probably similar to how he lodges his experiences in memory. I know my memories are stripped clean of all but the most negative of experiences. What's left is a meadow of sunshine with only a few black holes.

I'm certainly not going to remember how I felt sick and depressed for two weeks in August 2006. That is unless I come back and read this again.

And for the record, I finally feel like myself again today. Hooray!!!

Next time you want to give someone the finger

Did you know that with all the research done to decode the human genome, scientists can now take any two individuals walking the planet, analyze their DNA, and pinpoint approximately (how's that for an oxymoron) when in the past they share a common ancestor. It's usually in the low thousands of years.

So.

We really are all related.

Koyaanisqatsi

Sometimes I think about why we are all so off-kilter in Western society. I mean, you can hardly call us balanced when we work far more than we play and we need more and more aid from pharmaceutical companies to convince us to continue.

I wonder too, as evolution prepared us over the millenia, how our instincts to acquire food through gathering and hunting work against us in the artificial reality that we all agree to live in. If only our instinct was to acquire money, life would be so easy. Because then it would feel natural to start businesses and climb the corporate ladder.

Instead, we are the proverbial fish out of water. Only we have been brainwashed to think we're still in the river.

Now is the time for harvest and hoarding if we respect the calendar of our evolutionary roots.

Maybe that's why I'm in such a funk even though I've been off work for 6 weeks.

The book meme that's going around

Thanks Joel! (and many others who have already done this one)

1. One book you have read more than once:
It's rare that I read a book more than once. One that I've read several times though is Going Native It chronicles my uncle's life living with a tribe in Washington state. There is knowledge there that we aren't normally privy to.

2. One book you would want on a desert island:
A really really big book. Maybe 100 years of Solitude. Or better yet, ESO

3. One book that made you laugh:
David Sedaris always makes me laugh. Choose any of his books.

4. One book that made you cry:
White Oleander by Janet Fitch. (Also, one of the best books I've ever read, and it was a twenty something girl's first attempt at a novel. Bitch.)

5. One book you wish you had written:
All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.

6. One book you wish had never been written:
The enduring and most important religious text. (this will depend on the reader to decide which one)

7. One book you are currently reading:
Yarn Harlot: The Secret Life of a Knitter

8. One book you have been meaning to read:
L'Étranger

9. One Book That Changed Your Life:
Fit for Life After that, I changed my diet forever.

10. Now tag five people:
No. And you can't make me.

Snippets

* Sometimes I wish I could blame my crankiness on PMS. It's just so comeback-proof.

* Saw the lastest Canadian soldier killed in Afghanistan. The news showed a home movie clip with the wife and daughter. I thought about how that girl had lost her daddy and tears sprung from my eyes. Then spouse mocked me.

* I never walk through the perfume section of a department store. It stinks there.

* Crow on a stick

* Do you think if the virgin Mary appeared in a cowpie, people would flock to see it?

* As I prepare to go back to work, I wonder why I didn't go into the Xmas tree lot business. Make your annual salary in a month. Then rest for 11.

* Soon paper hospital gowns will be the required outfit for air travel.

* The sign at the soup station at the Botanical gardens said, "Restaurant quality soup".

* Sara's vocabulary: Sara, bath, bone, ball, toy, cookie, hungry, manger, walk, sit, stay and down. She often ignores sit and stay though.

* Spouse seemed to be at the appropriate level of inebriation to dance. So I asked.

A bunch of ME blather, gag

I'm always surprised by the power of really big emotions. I try to pay attention to my heart, feed it, listen to it, and make choices with it in mind. But really, I count on my mind being in control. And it usually is. But then something happens that really ramps up the emotions and suddenly the mind is but a gnat being swatted from one's face.

I forgot what a rollercoaster making big deals is. I'm so glad I'm married, because I don't think I could take falling in love and breaking up. I'm so thankful I can't get fired (since I have no boss) because that causes intense emotions too.

I don't mind strong positive emotions, gratitude, sympathy, joy. But I suspect you've got to dabble a bit in the negatives to truly have access to the positives.

Yesterday, I tried to run away from my emotions by going to the Botanical Gardens. Surprise, surprise, my emotions came with me.

But I did get this great shot of a Lotus in bloom. I don't think I've ever seen one in bloom up close. I would have sworn it was plastic. As I fell into a wonderous gaze, I forgot, just for a moment, the rest of the world. And in that moment, I found tranquility.

Can't you be more like those unscrupulous ones?

We were sitting in the mortgage broker's office and when it came time to reveal our salaries, she remarked, "How is it that you have so much in savings when you have such little revenue?" As we explained our situation, I couldn't help thinking how backhanded the compliment was.

Then later when talk of padding the revenues came up, we expressed our discomfort with her suggestions. To which she replied, "I know, we are Quebecers and we have that upstanding catholic upbringing. But you know, if I had a couple of Jews in front of me, they would be doing WHATEVER needed to be done to get this deal. Because you know you guys have found an awesome deal."

There it was again, slanderous praise.

Disappointment

Well, it appears that I may have spoken prematurely. We met with the mortgage broker yesterday and it appears financing will be impossible to obtain. I shouldn't say impossible because there is always a crooked way to do things, but the wall we are up against looks rather solid and insurmountable. It all boils down to PMI. Apparently, we don't qualify for it, and the bank won't lend us the money without it. In order to qualify, we are short about 1200 a month in revenue.

It was suggested that we furnish documents substantiating the shortfall. The kind of suggestion with a wink and a nod. It felt kind of dirty, like talking to the car salesman.

So I find myself this morning downloading payroll software to fabricate pay stubs. And I don't like it one bit. (Just kidding, I would never do anything illegal.)

I'm also coming back to the conclusion that capitalism works great, if you've already made it. The fact is that it works against you as long as you are small potatoes. Whoever ends up with this property will need to be "richer" than us, and they are going to laugh all the way to the bank.

Then again, maybe we are greedy pigs. We already have the one building, perhaps the universe is telling us to content ourselves with that.

But what would Donald Trump do?

The festivities have concluded

I made this souvenir from the weekend. It was fun, now I'm glad it's over.

Rambling

The hydrangeas are blooming all over town. I haven't seen any "blue" ones though, they all seem to be white. (Ours is still in the ground and it is still in "brown stick" status. Yes I know that means it's dead, but it looks all Ikebana in the garden, so it's still there.) We bought a blooming jasmine to replace the dead stick we bought, only to find out that they can't survive outside for the winter so we can't put it in the ground.

It looks like we are buying that property. Both spouse and I are very excited about it. We are using all of our means to acquire it, and even though the property will have a positive cash flow, I'm going to go into extreme spendthrift mode, I just know it. I get nervous when the savings fall below a certain level.

A long time ago, I chose bankruptcy to eliminate all the debt I had accumulated in college. What were the credit card companies thinking? In the end, they "gave" me over 50,000 dollars in credit for a student working as a busboy in a hotel - part time. I lay the blame squarely on them. (It feels better to blame them than cop to being irresponsible.) It was the easiest thing to do, fill out a few papers, make sad eyes at the judge and POOF! No more creditors.

But then, you must live within your means for 10 years as that's how long the black mark follows you around. And so I did, and continue to do so. I have credit cards now, but I never let them carry a balance. Ever.

How did I get from flowers to here? I have no point. Really. Enjoy the day.

Spouse says I dance like a cricket

No, this is not how I dance when I'm out.

Snippets

* This is the Montreal skyline as taken from inside of a bus. It's either really cool, or an example of "what not to do".

* Look how late it is. Slept 11 hours. I'm thinking this is a good thing.

* A view up the street at the nearby busstop. People must think I'm a freak taking pictures in the hood like this.

* (Spouse definitely thinks I'm a freak since I got this camera.)

* A shot from the front of Sky yesterday. My brain is tired from sensory overload. Let the games be done.

* I smoked on my birthday. I keep hearing Christi (a commenter) in my head, "As soon as you have a puff, that's it, you're a smoker again." Oh how I wish she were wrong.


* Look it's ASHLEE! Only Quebecers will know who this is. She was distributing condom/lube packages to anyone and everyone.

* This is a snippet that never came to fruition.


* This is a trick I've maintained the ability to do all my life. I wonder what this will look like when I'm 70.

* Still no word on the offer we made. If nothing happens by 7pm, it's a dead deal.

* I forced myself to go out last night to check that band I like. I took a video of the first number they did. Later the keyboardist took off his shirt.

Swirling pre dawn ponderings

I've had little rest. As the virus achieves its summit within my body, much like the August sun pervades the atmosphere, I am cooked. Here I am pre dawn, unable to sleep nor breathe really, my head aswirl with thoughts of the venture we are embarking on.

We made an offer on this property yesterday.

It turns out that the owner has some quasi famous status. (In a not worksafe kind of way.)

We will probably finalize the deal within the next couple of days. Assuming the bank believes in us as much as we believe in ourselves.

In other news, that thunderstorm we had night before last was captured much better than I did, and people (other crazy people) took videos to shame me. Check this one!



I'd yack more, but I think I need to go back to bed. Wish me luck.

An outbreak of flags, herpes and lightning

So this is one of the neighborhood streets in the gay village of Montreal. You know, I wonder what the thinking was when the 9th and 10th people decided to put flags up. "Just in case it's not clear that this is a gay street, we better put one out." (I mock, but I really don't care that much, whatever floats your boat yadda yadda)

The festivities and the heat around here have conspired to take me down. Yesterday's sore throat has now become a full blown cold. Fuck. Summer colds are the vilest. Watch now I'll get a cold sore to boot. (Also known as a fever blister, but we all know it's HERPES)

One of my favorite bands is performing in the park Thursday and it's FREE! Los Amigos Invisibles hail from Venezuela and they sing rock slash pop slash latin style music. Spouse hates some of the tinny Mexicany music sounds, but I find that to be part of the charm. (Plus, who can resist a group of guys who sing a song titled "Masturbation Session")

Last night we saw the most violent thunderstorm here ever. I've seen one similar crossing the Mohave desert, and spouse saw one like it in Hong Kong, but never here. It was the kind where the lightning is constant. And therefore, the thunder is constant, coming from near and far, crescendoing and waning. It didn't come out very well on the video, but I'm posting it anyway. I love how the final frame is during a lightning strike.

Hot lesbians and humid drag queens

Saw the "Queer Comics" show last night and I have sore tummy muscles today from laughing. I had no idea lesbians could be so funny! This one girl, Julie Goldman, had me crying laughing from the beginning to the end of her set. Since recording devices were forbidden and I have the memory of a pimple, I can't give you any one-liners, but if you ever get the chance, check this girl out.

The Kinsey Sicks made an appearance as well. They have their proper show "Dragapella" which is also playing in town. This is a group of singing drag queens. They sing four parts, barber shop style - ie a capella. The songs were funny and pointedly caustic toward Bush and republicans in general, a topic only slightly lost on the Canadian audience. (Note to visiting comics - try to get the name of the Prime Minister right, you're only reinforcing the perception that Americans are ignorant of all things outside their borders.)

We had some righteous downpours again last evening. It's supposed to be the hottest day of the year here today, and super humid to boot. I was marveling at the quantity of rain that can fall in a few short minutes in the summer. Over half an inch in 10 minutes is pretty impressive. Well, I was impressed, I'm sure most people didn't even ponder it past the nuisance level.

What else? Oh yeah, I'm joining the team of bloggers over at metroblogging Montreal. I'll be posting over there regularly now, and I'm looking forward to vaunting the city I love. Don't worry, I'll still do my regular schtick right here. Peace!

Out games

Spouse and I were talking last night and the conversation turned to new territory for us - coming out to our fathers. It's interesting to me (but admittedly perhaps not so for you) that after 13 years of togetherness, we still have uncovered conversation material.

Serge was about 18 and he and his brother went to visit Dad. Dad lived apart from Mom as they had divorced several years prior. Brother, being a rather hyper problem child, tended to dominate all family conversations. Brother had eyes on a new car and was very excited about it but didn't want to boast outright and, because they had just talked about the car on the way over, prodded Serge, "Tell him. You know, go ahead, tell him."

So Serge turned to his father and said, "Okay, papa. I have to tell you I'm gay."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NOT THAT!" shrieked brother, additionally incensed that the focus of the conversation had loosed itself from his power. (Incidentally, I was cracking up laughing when he told this part. I don't think his brother was ever really "down" with the homo thing, so it's even more deliciously ironic that he caused the conversation in the first place.)

Father and Serge agreed to discuss it further later, and in the end, father didn't have any trouble adapting to the news.

In my case, I had waited longer to tell my father, largely because it had gone so poorly with my mother. It was quite the surprise for me when he called me up one day and asked point blank, "So how was the pride parade?" (He was fishing with an educated guess here.)

The previous day, I had gone to the gay pride parade in Los Angeles with friends, and immediately understanding the implications of my answer, stammered "Uh, um. It was really fun, actually."

The bag having loosed its feline contents, I learned that father was more wounded over the fact that I had kept it secret from him than the actual news itself. I was so relieved at how "no big deal" it was.

Cursory review of birthday, outgames et al

We just had a short power outage and I lost my whole post! How will I ever recreate the genius that was in this window just a short time ago? Guess it wasn't meant to be.

The day started off all adult like and we met with a real estate agent and looked at a couple of investment properties. We came home, got all juiced up about making an offer on one of them, then slowly talked ourselves down, and postponed all decisionmaking until we have a second look around on Wednesday.

Shortly thereafter, Dan showed up bearing gifts.


Then, just for me and my birthday I am sure, a summer cloudburst!



After taking the video, I went into the yard and baptised myself in it. Wonderful cool drops on such a hot humid day, perfection! Spouse and Dan looked on with bemusement. (I suppose it could have been more like derisive mocking, but I prefer to think of them as bemused.)

Friends and family called and emailed birthday wishes throughout the day. Thanks everyone!

Around five, we went down to the village for some pre-show libations. I forgot about the part where everyone buys you drinks on your birthday. Kind of a double edged sword, that.

The streets are full day and night due to the Outgames. It's really quite a sight.

Festive!


The sky was doing amazing things too.

I've never seen so many of us together in one place. This picture is from outside.



And this is an idea of what it was like inside the stadium.

At the end of the show, we headed back down to the village and landed in a strip club with some friends who continued this strange tradition of buying drinks for someone's birthday. I don't know what they are, but we had several shooters called "upper cuts". They tasted like Kool-aid to me, and I am of the firm belief that they cause severe headaches the following morning.

We complained theat the strippers were too muscular, couldn't dance, or looked like they were on drugs. As if! Hi, welcome to pissy queen land.

Finally, back out onto the street at 1am to find throngs, and I mean monster throngs of people still shifting and merrying in the streets.



And finally, after all that fun, I come home and see an email from Chunks. She sent me 41 ways to say shit, and I can't tell you how touched I was. A total stranger and a random act of love. What better way to say happy birthday. (I'll make the list the first comment.)

Gaiety reigning

The Outgames opening ceremony is tonight at the big O. Spouse got tickets for my birthday. I guess they didn't sell enough, so they are giving them away now. Last night, we took a stroll through the village and they have closed the streets for the entire week so that the boys and girls can take over this part of town.

All the bars and restaurants have extended their properties into the street and you can sit and have a meal or a drink and peoplewatch to your heart's content. We spent a couple hours yesterday evening doing just that.

All I did was grin the whole time.

Vacation Snippets

* During a recent flight, we experienced a little turbulence. Normally, I like the turbulence, but in this case it caused me to spray urine all over the bathroom (and stripe my shoes). Lesson learned - sit to pee in a plane.

* I thought it was funny that Bush said Israel overreacted. I wonder what Bush would have done had Canada-harbored-terrorists gone in and kidnapped US soldiers.

* CNN seemed to think that the utterance of the word "shit" by Bush warranted more coverage than the unfolding conflict in the middle east. (Insert bitter "news" remark here.)


* At the entrance to casino restaurants, we appreciated the sanitizer offered at the entrance to clean our hands with (you know, because we're going to EAT). But I thought that this supermarket version was a little overboard. Remember, if we are never exposed to germs, our bodies will not know how to fight them.

* I miss my friends and family and I always feel like my time is too short with them.

* It seems, more than ever before, that Americans are in love with chains. Every niche has been boiled down to 3 or 4 national chains and this makes everyplace look the same. I couldn't tell which airport I was changing planes in because they all feature the exact same mix of commercial enterprises.

* Speaking of chain infatuation. Starbucks is ubiquitous. They are even in the hotels and supermarkets now. Casinos serve it, as do the flight attendants on United.

* We drove by our house in Long Beach that we sold for 215,000 back in 2001. Imagine the wave of nausea we felt when we saw it listed for $695,000.

* Tomorrow marks 41 years since my womb exit.

A computer is only as good as its operator

So this new camera I've got is really amazing. It takes video with really good quality, and poor spouse is getting annoyed at my constant filming. As for pictures, they seem to be pretty good and much, much bigger than the pics my old camera took. So far, I have relied on the camera's "automatic" setting, and as I understand it, the "camera" analyzes the shot and chooses the appropriate setting. There is also a manual mode where you can adjust the aperture setting, f-stop, white balance etc. If I knew what those things were, I might play around with it. There is also a "scene" mode. This must be for the people like me, illiterate in camera speak but wanting to have some say over the camera settings. So in the "scene" mode, you can choose outdoor shot, sunset shot, twilight shot, etcetera, and the camera will adjust the settings accordingly.

Last night, Australia put on their fireworks show as part of the International Fireworks Competition here. What better time to try out the "fireworks" setting on the scene selection mode? As it turned out, Australia put on one of the most moving shows I've seen- perfectly synchronized with the music, and reflecting the mood and color of each piece. From Pinball Wizard to Aquarius the sky was transformed into a huge work of living art.

Truly, I was blown away, and I predict that they will win this year's competition. They were that good.

Naturally, I took loads of pictures using the "fireworks" setting on the camera. Unfortunately, they all came out like this:


I had no idea my hands were so palsy. (adding "tripod" to the list)

This is a better souvenir

Last week, when we were camping in Big Sur, I decided to take spouse down to Hearst Castle for a tour. I had taken a tour there about 20 years ago and remembered it being mildly interesting. It was then surprising when it turned out that I didn't really remember anything and that it was highly interesting.


There was a tapestry there that was owned by Louis the fifteenth. The guide pointed out that the Louvre had a copy of the piece, and seemed to gloat over how uneasy that must make the French feel. Apparently Hearst was an art collector and there were beautiful sculptures, paintings, tapestries and other antique pieces, many of which are worth over 10 million bucks a piece.


At the end of the tour, we were invited to watch a National Geographic sponsored Imax film about the castle. So first you tour the castle, then watch a film about the castle. It was quite redundant, especially as they tried to hawk the DVD upon exiting the theatre.

I never manage to get out of a tourist trap without being dragged through the "gift shop". I'm putting quotes because I believe it's a misnomer. Selfishness shop would be more accurate. Or Souvenir shop at the very least. I'll bet less than one percent of that crap is bought as gifts. Keychains, photo frames, t-shirts, yo-yos, snow globes, teaspoons, pennants, crap, crap, crap.

I did see some authentic Pick Up Stix, made out of wood even! For a moment, I hazed over with nostalgia, then looked at the price and slammed it down in disgust. 20 bucks for some oversized toothpicks.

Killing the planet, one amenity at a time

Blogger sure is being persnickety. I had a heck of a time trying to leave comments on blogs yesterday. I was successful about a tenth of the time. I'm pretty much caught up on blogs, if you have no comment from me, blame blogger lol. Now, I can't get any pictures uploaded, so I guess I'll have to actually write today's post.

I was appalled again on Air Canada when I saw the disposable headsets being distributed. These headsets are not recycled and most people give them back to the flight attendants at the end of the flight. The flight attendants throw them in the garbage. Thousands upon thousands of headsets hitting the landfills every day. I don't get it, we have no trouble sharing headphones used by others at the music store listening stations. United makes the economy passengers share headphones used by patrons on previous flights. Maybe because they're cheap, or maybe because they care about the Earth. The Air Canada flight attendant explained that it was cheaper to distribute the one-use disposable kind than it was to recycle the headsets.

How can we put a price tag on the health of our planet?

But then I was confronted by something even more unconscionable - mini shampoo bottles in the hotel room. Why, and I mean WHY do we abide this unbelievably wasteful practice? How many billions of these little bottles head for the garbage dump from around the world. (I know they are cute, and I have even squealed with glee to find an array of them on the counter. But no more.) A dispenser in the shower would be far more ecological. (And cheaper for the hotel! Hey they've convinced us to not make them change the sheets each day, why not do away with the little bottles.)

But we, the people, simply love the cute little amenities in the hotel room. We should all be shot.