A Horde of Killer Komodos
There's a Komodo Dragon loose in Beirut, and another one chomped on Sharon Stone's husband. Obviously this is the begininning of a carefully planned and coordinated onslaught of giant reptiles. They probably want to bring back the Age of the Dinosaurs. That being the Mesozoic Age. I'm okay with that, as long as they let bears roam around too. Komodo dragons and Kermode bears. What more do you need?
Sunday, August 31, 2003
I hope you're enjoying your long weekend. I surely am. Just got back from the Symphony Under the Sky at Hawrelak Park. It was fantastic! The whole day was great. First I went over to my friend the Goddess's place so we could do our nails! Never thought I'd say that. It's lots of fun, though. Right now I got the black with blood-red stripes on each nail- it looks cool. We had to get punked up a bit for the Symphony- if it was at the Winspear we would have gotten dressed nice and formal, but since it is such a relaxed environment we were able to sport a slightly different style. Oh yeah but first we went over to my folks' place for some excellent barbecue chicken. The Edmonton Symphony Orchestra plays in a big auditorium in the park for the annual sky series, and you can get seats or sit on the grass, so I got grass tickets, figuring it would be cooler to have a little blanket down and be able to stretch a bit. It left us exposed to the elements, but that's kind of the point, even when it rained towards the end. The rain was actually very fitting as the centerpiece tonight was Beethoven's 6th Symphony, which you may know is the Pastorale, all about nature, with one movement featuring a storm. The 6th is also featured in Fantasia, which is interesting because Marilyn Manson's concert was opened with another Fantasia track, Night on Bald Mountain. So that was quite fitting- not only were we listening to Manson all day, but the two of us were also the ones who went to that concert. Anyways, it's just so pleasant to sit on the grass at dusk and listen to a symphony symphonize. Yup, a pretty fine day.
The rest of the program for tonight, in case you are interested, was Elegy, for String Orchestra by Peter Schikele, and Cello Concerto in E minor by Edward Elgar. Patrick Jee was a special guest playing the cello tonight.
The rest of the program for tonight, in case you are interested, was Elegy, for String Orchestra by Peter Schikele, and Cello Concerto in E minor by Edward Elgar. Patrick Jee was a special guest playing the cello tonight.
Saturday, August 30, 2003
As always when I see my Dad, we get to talking about coal mining. He still works out there, and I still wish I worked out there, so he always fills me in on the latest happenings. Pretty much every time I wind up just shaking my head in amazement, thinking I've never heard anything so bizarre/dumb/inept* in my life. Today he mentioned how they are hauling coal in normal highway sized dumptrucks and dumping it in our shop, where they fix all our equipment. I realize to you this might not seem strange, but it really is. If I had ever dumped a load of coal in the shop they would have been really pissed off at me.
Anyways, an interesting fact he brought up had to do with a factor that is affecting the world metallurgical coal market. There is a new demand in the market caused by, of all things, China getting the 2008 Olympics. See, China has always been a net producer of coal- they produce more than they need so they export. But thanks to the Beijing Olympics, they are doing a bunch of infrastructure work and upgrades and such and are now using more coal than they produce- and so they are now a coal importer. Hence the price of coal goes up. Does that mean an imminent recall for me? Nope. Not in the short run, at least. But it's good for my Dad.
*Not to imply that they are all a bunch of buffoons. But there are some. . . interesting characters, and strange situations. Add that to the larger-than-life equipment and you get a formula for farce. One guy in particular was the source of much consternation betwixt my Dad and I- we will call him Stewpid- consider it an endearing nickname. Stewpid drove 32 truck. Mine was 31, and both were 260 ton trucks, and hence always assigned to my Dad's Shovel 8. Stewpid seemed to have narcolepsy or something, because he was always sleeping. Dad would be waiting for him to back in to get loaded, and he would just sit there, and Dad would use his horn and the radio, and sometimes I or another truck would have to pull up to wake him up. Kind of frustrating, actually- you gotta pull your weight (or in the case of heavy haulers, several hundred thousand times your weight). Anyways, one time he got a load just before coffee, and pulled out and parked and had a nap. After coffee he backed back under the shovel to get a load, pissing my Dad off to no end. He honked and honked and barked at him over the radio but Stewpid just sat there, waiting to get loaded. So I watched my Dad take his bucket and release the contents back into the face, turn and give Stewpid an airbucket, and honked once more. Stewpid left, perfectly happy and unaware that he had just received a bucket of nothing.
Anyways, an interesting fact he brought up had to do with a factor that is affecting the world metallurgical coal market. There is a new demand in the market caused by, of all things, China getting the 2008 Olympics. See, China has always been a net producer of coal- they produce more than they need so they export. But thanks to the Beijing Olympics, they are doing a bunch of infrastructure work and upgrades and such and are now using more coal than they produce- and so they are now a coal importer. Hence the price of coal goes up. Does that mean an imminent recall for me? Nope. Not in the short run, at least. But it's good for my Dad.
*Not to imply that they are all a bunch of buffoons. But there are some. . . interesting characters, and strange situations. Add that to the larger-than-life equipment and you get a formula for farce. One guy in particular was the source of much consternation betwixt my Dad and I- we will call him Stewpid- consider it an endearing nickname. Stewpid drove 32 truck. Mine was 31, and both were 260 ton trucks, and hence always assigned to my Dad's Shovel 8. Stewpid seemed to have narcolepsy or something, because he was always sleeping. Dad would be waiting for him to back in to get loaded, and he would just sit there, and Dad would use his horn and the radio, and sometimes I or another truck would have to pull up to wake him up. Kind of frustrating, actually- you gotta pull your weight (or in the case of heavy haulers, several hundred thousand times your weight). Anyways, one time he got a load just before coffee, and pulled out and parked and had a nap. After coffee he backed back under the shovel to get a load, pissing my Dad off to no end. He honked and honked and barked at him over the radio but Stewpid just sat there, waiting to get loaded. So I watched my Dad take his bucket and release the contents back into the face, turn and give Stewpid an airbucket, and honked once more. Stewpid left, perfectly happy and unaware that he had just received a bucket of nothing.
Andrew my room-mate is back after being away for the summer. Matt the other room-mate rather suddenly moved out yesterday, giving me exactly 24 hours notice. He moved next door, leaving us in kind of a lurch as far as rent goes. Anyone need a place to live?
I heard what sounded like a motorcycle pull up to my house today, so I asked Andrew (who was standing by the door) what it was. He confirmed it was a motorbike, and asked me if I knew anyone who has one. "No," I said, and assumed the biker was visiting one of our neighbours. Then the doorbell rang and it was my Dad. "Oh yeah," I thought to myself, "Dad has a motorbike."
It's not so much that he has one that slipped my mind- he has pretty much had one (sometimes two- a dirt bike as well) ever since he was 12, so it's not exactly a new development. I just don't expect him to pull up to my house driving it. Nice surprise. Yup, my friends, my Dad is cooler than I am. What can I say?
Here's a picture of the kind of bike my Dad has right now- an FZ1. He's had a bunch of different ones over the years.
I heard what sounded like a motorcycle pull up to my house today, so I asked Andrew (who was standing by the door) what it was. He confirmed it was a motorbike, and asked me if I knew anyone who has one. "No," I said, and assumed the biker was visiting one of our neighbours. Then the doorbell rang and it was my Dad. "Oh yeah," I thought to myself, "Dad has a motorbike."
It's not so much that he has one that slipped my mind- he has pretty much had one (sometimes two- a dirt bike as well) ever since he was 12, so it's not exactly a new development. I just don't expect him to pull up to my house driving it. Nice surprise. Yup, my friends, my Dad is cooler than I am. What can I say?
Here's a picture of the kind of bike my Dad has right now- an FZ1. He's had a bunch of different ones over the years.
Friday, August 29, 2003
Being such a huge Coen Brothers fan, I have been wanting to rent Rasing Arizona for a while now, but have been stymied at every turn, it seems. They don't have it, or do but it's out, or whatever. So FINALLY the other night I found it and grabbed it, and was going to watch it yesterday, only to open the case and see a two-disc set for The Royal Tannenbaums! Grrr! Not that I have anything against that movie, but what a disappointment. SO I will watch the Royal Tannenbaums tonight. I hope it's not all pooey.
UPDATE: Turns out I really enjoyed the Royal Tenenbaums. Great movie. Today at work I sliced right under my left ring finger nail, and it kind of smarts to type and I am making many typoos. Also I found out moving heavy objects is hard on nail poolish. Good thing I have a whole bottle and even some sort of hardening shield stuff. I was quite astonished to go to Shoppers Drug MArt and see a whole aisle devoted to nail poolish. And they only had one brand (no-name, actually) in that whole aisle that was black. So I bought some real nice pinks and peaches and stuff. You know, just to add a little variety. Kidding.
UPDATE: Turns out I really enjoyed the Royal Tenenbaums. Great movie. Today at work I sliced right under my left ring finger nail, and it kind of smarts to type and I am making many typoos. Also I found out moving heavy objects is hard on nail poolish. Good thing I have a whole bottle and even some sort of hardening shield stuff. I was quite astonished to go to Shoppers Drug MArt and see a whole aisle devoted to nail poolish. And they only had one brand (no-name, actually) in that whole aisle that was black. So I bought some real nice pinks and peaches and stuff. You know, just to add a little variety. Kidding.
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
The Summer Blockbuster season is coming to an end, and with the exception of a few disappointments (the Hulk could have been SOOO much better), I was pretty happy with the fare. Matrix, Pirates, X2 and T3 were all very enjoyable. But now the fall movie season is upon us, and I am quite excited about a number of upcoming releases. First up, Underworld. Sure, it looks like the pooducers said, "Hey- let's make a movie that looks exactly like the Matrix only it'll be about werewolves and vampires!" But that's just fine by me.
Then comes the long-awaited (by me, anyways) third installment of the El Mariachi movies, Once Upon A Time in Mexico. Sure, it looks exactly like its predecessor, Desperado, but again, that is fine by me. Antonia Banderas and Salma Hayek and Johnny Depp kicking ass with flame-throwing guitar cases? What's not to love? Desperado is one of my (second tier) favorite movies- "Did I thank you yet?" "No." "I will."
And just today I found out that my man Marilyn will be playing a transsexual singer in a movie starring Macauley Culkin (!) called Party Monster. That's all I know, but I'm pretty sure it won't be exaclty like Home Alone. Cause that wouldn't be so fine by me.
And a film my friend the Goddess and I have been eagerly anticipating for quite a while now will finally be out in October- Prey for Rock and Roll. Go to the site and play the title song, sung by Gina Gershon who is starring in the movie. Very cool song. Isn't this a great picture? Miss Gershon and Drea DeMatteo.
Then comes the long-awaited (by me, anyways) third installment of the El Mariachi movies, Once Upon A Time in Mexico. Sure, it looks exactly like its predecessor, Desperado, but again, that is fine by me. Antonia Banderas and Salma Hayek and Johnny Depp kicking ass with flame-throwing guitar cases? What's not to love? Desperado is one of my (second tier) favorite movies- "Did I thank you yet?" "No." "I will."
And just today I found out that my man Marilyn will be playing a transsexual singer in a movie starring Macauley Culkin (!) called Party Monster. That's all I know, but I'm pretty sure it won't be exaclty like Home Alone. Cause that wouldn't be so fine by me.
And a film my friend the Goddess and I have been eagerly anticipating for quite a while now will finally be out in October- Prey for Rock and Roll. Go to the site and play the title song, sung by Gina Gershon who is starring in the movie. Very cool song. Isn't this a great picture? Miss Gershon and Drea DeMatteo.
Homie Bear painted his claws black today. He likes it. He doesn't like speaking in the third person so much, so he will stop now. Originally I had intended to paint my nails for the Marilyn Manson concert, but because we were so rushed I never had the chance, and getting on a plane wearing a fancy suit is much easier if you are also not sporting black nailpoolish. This is the first time I've ever painted my fingernails, but once in China the girls were bugging me to let them paint my toenails (I only wear sandals in the summer so it would have been quite obvious) and I wouldn't let them and they kept harassing me and finally they offered me 20 renminbi to do it, so I gave in. Not that 20 yuan is a lot of money, but truth be told I was kind of curious, and I couldn't be seen to give in too easily, you know? I liked it. My girlfriend at the time, however, didn't.
So only 68,000 people bought tickets to Fringe plays this year. Talk about an utter failure. Every year it seems the Fringe is declared a bust because even though half a million people come to hang out and watch the street performers, only 70,000 tickets get sold to the actual plays, which is what the Fringe is really about. But I would like to point out that 70,000 tickets is an awful lot of tickets. Especailly when you consider the venues only seat between 275 (biggest theater) down to 80. Most plays do about 6 shows, and there are 140 plays. So, a quick and rough calculation comes up with around 150,000 available tickets, of which not quite half are sold. Seems alright to me- word of mouth tends to kill some plays, while others generate a buzz and need to be held over. In other words, the good plays sell tickets and the bad ones don't. Both plays I went to were sold out, and on we tried but couldn't get in because it was sold out as well. Remember, we're talking about independent theater in a blue-collar city full of farmers and oil riggers. People like me, in other words. And you know what? The Fringe is at least partially responsible for my love of theater (friends like Jonny Smelter who act also contributing), and I imagine that a few of those 68,000 audience members were first-time theater-goers, but not last-time.
Anyways, enough with the poonditry- I try not to get all analytical here at the Woods. Here's a riddle for you: What is poo times poo? Poopy-poo!
Anyways, enough with the poonditry- I try not to get all analytical here at the Woods. Here's a riddle for you: What is poo times poo? Poopy-poo!
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Mars, as I'm sure you've all heard by now, is the closest its been to Earth in 60,000 years. Which would be so much more impressive if we could actually go there. But since we can't, I give you these all-time best Mars stories, be they movie or book. Or at least, a few good stories and some stuff I've never read, as well as various and sundry other miscellany.
1. A Martian Odyssey, by Stanislaw Weinbaum. I blogged about this story once before- it's from the '30's so it has a certain charming old-school naivety. Very entertaining, with a sense of wonderment that characterized the old days of sci-fi.
2.The War of the Worlds by HG Wells. Even older than Martian Odyssey, and much more violent. And don't forget the notoriety of Orson Welles' radio dramataziation which had people fleeing to the streets in panic. Must have been something to see.
3.A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs, and the other Martian Chronicles. My Dad practically forced me to read this when I was younger- it was such a huge part of his youth, but it seemingly paled in comparison to Star Wars and all that I was into, so I wasn't that keen on reading it. But I read it, loved it, and recommend it to you. Pulp fiction at its finest.
4. Time for a Mars movie. Umm, almost all movies made about Mars suck for some reason- Mars Attacks, Mission to Mars, Ghosts of Mars, the list goes on and on. So I guess the least sucky of them (that I can think of, but feel free to correct me) is Total Recall. Blech. Though I have to say I loved that movie when I first saw it back when it came out. Seems so dated now, though.
5. Notice how the first 3 books were all written at least 70 years ago? That's because back then they thought Mars might be full of life, what with all the canals and whatnot they could see through the telescope. So, this entry is much more recent: Red Mars by kim Stanley Robinson. But you know, I haven't actually read it, though my Dad liked it. It's about terraforming, which is about all that can be done with Mars and a fictional setting these days, since no one buys the idea of Martians anymore. Course, there was that whole thing with the monuments, which brings me to . . .
6. Don't know what this is, I just found it while browsing Amazon for Mars books. Sounds interesting in that bizarre way that conspiracy theorists/new age gurus often are. Nothing in This Book Is True, But It's Exactly How Things Are: The Esoteric Meaning of the Monuments on MArs
7. Weirdos from Another Planet!, by Bill Watterson. Technically, this Calvin and Hobbes anthology isn't a book about Mars, but it does have that section (from which the book gets its title) where they run away to Mars. I would write a Homie Bear poem about Mars but this series says it better than I could.
8. Mars bars. Mmmmm. One time Jonny Smelter and I were in an Astronomy class together, and we wrote a sonnet about Mars (so I have written a poem about Mars before), which contained many scientific and somewhat true facts, including "But the best thing about Mars Mars Mars/ Is that is where they make those candy bars!"
9. Woodpeckers from Mars, Faith No More. An otherworldly (especially if that world is an Arab colony) instrumental from The Real Thing, which you discerning readers will recognize from that top ten CD's list I wrote last week.
10. Hmmm- I have to admit i'm running out of ideas. Ooh ooh how about Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus? No. So here is a cool animated image of Mars instead from Space.com. They run a pretty good website, so they deserve to round out this Top Ten list. And in an interesting case of serendipity, I found this website today without even looking for it, so I say it gets an honorable mention.
1. A Martian Odyssey, by Stanislaw Weinbaum. I blogged about this story once before- it's from the '30's so it has a certain charming old-school naivety. Very entertaining, with a sense of wonderment that characterized the old days of sci-fi.
2.The War of the Worlds by HG Wells. Even older than Martian Odyssey, and much more violent. And don't forget the notoriety of Orson Welles' radio dramataziation which had people fleeing to the streets in panic. Must have been something to see.
3.A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs, and the other Martian Chronicles. My Dad practically forced me to read this when I was younger- it was such a huge part of his youth, but it seemingly paled in comparison to Star Wars and all that I was into, so I wasn't that keen on reading it. But I read it, loved it, and recommend it to you. Pulp fiction at its finest.
4. Time for a Mars movie. Umm, almost all movies made about Mars suck for some reason- Mars Attacks, Mission to Mars, Ghosts of Mars, the list goes on and on. So I guess the least sucky of them (that I can think of, but feel free to correct me) is Total Recall. Blech. Though I have to say I loved that movie when I first saw it back when it came out. Seems so dated now, though.
5. Notice how the first 3 books were all written at least 70 years ago? That's because back then they thought Mars might be full of life, what with all the canals and whatnot they could see through the telescope. So, this entry is much more recent: Red Mars by kim Stanley Robinson. But you know, I haven't actually read it, though my Dad liked it. It's about terraforming, which is about all that can be done with Mars and a fictional setting these days, since no one buys the idea of Martians anymore. Course, there was that whole thing with the monuments, which brings me to . . .
6. Don't know what this is, I just found it while browsing Amazon for Mars books. Sounds interesting in that bizarre way that conspiracy theorists/new age gurus often are. Nothing in This Book Is True, But It's Exactly How Things Are: The Esoteric Meaning of the Monuments on MArs
7. Weirdos from Another Planet!, by Bill Watterson. Technically, this Calvin and Hobbes anthology isn't a book about Mars, but it does have that section (from which the book gets its title) where they run away to Mars. I would write a Homie Bear poem about Mars but this series says it better than I could.
8. Mars bars. Mmmmm. One time Jonny Smelter and I were in an Astronomy class together, and we wrote a sonnet about Mars (so I have written a poem about Mars before), which contained many scientific and somewhat true facts, including "But the best thing about Mars Mars Mars/ Is that is where they make those candy bars!"
9. Woodpeckers from Mars, Faith No More. An otherworldly (especially if that world is an Arab colony) instrumental from The Real Thing, which you discerning readers will recognize from that top ten CD's list I wrote last week.
10. Hmmm- I have to admit i'm running out of ideas. Ooh ooh how about Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus? No. So here is a cool animated image of Mars instead from Space.com. They run a pretty good website, so they deserve to round out this Top Ten list. And in an interesting case of serendipity, I found this website today without even looking for it, so I say it gets an honorable mention.
Monday, August 25, 2003
You know what sucks and is full of poo? Moving a piano up a flight of stairs. And no one even plays the piano in this family!! Super-nice people, though, so we did our job, as always, with a smile and a cheerful attitude. And a pulled muscle. Or two. 13 hour day today, but I should get paid for the entire time, hopefully. Tomorrow I am defintely getting to work on that resume. They asked me to go to Calgary tomorrow but I turned them down- though I'm not back in the woods yet, since I seem to be the ONLY one in that entire motley crew that has a valid driver's licence. So they need me, but I do not need them. Sounds selfish maybe, but I am learning the Art of Saying No, something which I can occasionally have troubles with. Not always, though, but when someone says they reallly need help or something, then I have an awful hard time turning away, which can be a good quality but it also opens up the doors for people to take advantage of you. Gotta keep your defences up a bit, I guess.
Sunday, August 24, 2003
The Daughters of Eve were reincarnated today. It was much fun. Most of you will have no idea what I am talking about, since the D'soE disbanded long before this blog came to be. They were one of our house bands at the Gathering, specializing in dance music. The ladies sang beautiful harmonies over dance tracks. But when one of the members moved to Montreal, that was pretty much it. But said member was back for a visit, so a slightly altered lineup was put together and performed tonight, and it was great. Jen even hinted that perhaps there would be more Eveyness in the near future, under another new guise. Sounds good to me. I know, dance music isn't really my thing, but this is totally different. And fun.
Tomorrow I have agreed to work for the moving company- you may have noticed a dearth of moving-related stories here lately- it's because I have turned down every offer of work since the trip up to Fort Mac. Haven't really felt like it, but on the other hand I've been pretty bored lately during the week, so a little cash, a little work never hurt anyone. Actually, that's not true- getting hurt is of course a very real risk of lifting hevay objects, which is one of the reasons I have been avoiding working for them- no workers' comp for me if I put my back out. I have been dragging my heels on writing up a resume- truth is, I have no idea how. But I want to make one so I can start applying for regular jobs soon. It's time.
Not that you need concern yourself with my job situation. I just want a change, is all. Here is a great and totally un-job-related lyric from Marilyn Manson's Doll Dagga Buzz Buzz Ziggety Zag:
All the goose-step girlies with their cursed faces and we know it's all Braille beneath the skirt
If you've seen the mOBSCENE video, or went to his concert, you will have noticed that the beautiful dancers he uses have some hideous makeup on their faces, looking like kind of an extended skull-teeth twisted grin. Now you know why. Or at least, what the allusion is to. One of those dancers was walking through the crowd right near us before Marilyn took the stage, and she had such a presence- her suit and posture and everything about her. Total confidence. And after the concert she stood in the lobby, just standing, watching everyone leave. Pretty cool.
Tomorrow I have agreed to work for the moving company- you may have noticed a dearth of moving-related stories here lately- it's because I have turned down every offer of work since the trip up to Fort Mac. Haven't really felt like it, but on the other hand I've been pretty bored lately during the week, so a little cash, a little work never hurt anyone. Actually, that's not true- getting hurt is of course a very real risk of lifting hevay objects, which is one of the reasons I have been avoiding working for them- no workers' comp for me if I put my back out. I have been dragging my heels on writing up a resume- truth is, I have no idea how. But I want to make one so I can start applying for regular jobs soon. It's time.
Not that you need concern yourself with my job situation. I just want a change, is all. Here is a great and totally un-job-related lyric from Marilyn Manson's Doll Dagga Buzz Buzz Ziggety Zag:
All the goose-step girlies with their cursed faces and we know it's all Braille beneath the skirt
If you've seen the mOBSCENE video, or went to his concert, you will have noticed that the beautiful dancers he uses have some hideous makeup on their faces, looking like kind of an extended skull-teeth twisted grin. Now you know why. Or at least, what the allusion is to. One of those dancers was walking through the crowd right near us before Marilyn took the stage, and she had such a presence- her suit and posture and everything about her. Total confidence. And after the concert she stood in the lobby, just standing, watching everyone leave. Pretty cool.
More Proto-Rings
Originally Bingo Bolger-Baggins set off from Bag End for no particular reason, other than that he was out of money. He set off with his friends and nephews Odo and Frodo Took, and were on their way to visit Marmaduke (Merry). The Ring was just one of many rings the Dark Lord sent out into the world to ensnare slaves, for they all turned their wearers into wraiths, even elves, of whom there were many elf-wraiths. Dwarves for some reason were immune.
Originally Bingo Bolger-Baggins set off from Bag End for no particular reason, other than that he was out of money. He set off with his friends and nephews Odo and Frodo Took, and were on their way to visit Marmaduke (Merry). The Ring was just one of many rings the Dark Lord sent out into the world to ensnare slaves, for they all turned their wearers into wraiths, even elves, of whom there were many elf-wraiths. Dwarves for some reason were immune.
Saturday, August 23, 2003
Bingo Baggins
I started reading The Return of the Shadow: The History of The Lord of the Rings today. It's basically a look at all the manuscipts and changes and revisions Tolkien made en route to writing the best piece of fiction of the 20th century. Frodo's original name was Bingo. And Bingo was his name-o. Not that Frodo is any less comical, we're just used to it, I guess. At least Frodo doesn't conjure up images of a smoky gambling hall full of desperate grumpy old people. Strider's original ranger name was Trotter. And he was a hobbit. I'm serious! Considering he had no idea what he was going to write about when he started writing, I'd say it turned out rather well.
I started reading The Return of the Shadow: The History of The Lord of the Rings today. It's basically a look at all the manuscipts and changes and revisions Tolkien made en route to writing the best piece of fiction of the 20th century. Frodo's original name was Bingo. And Bingo was his name-o. Not that Frodo is any less comical, we're just used to it, I guess. At least Frodo doesn't conjure up images of a smoky gambling hall full of desperate grumpy old people. Strider's original ranger name was Trotter. And he was a hobbit. I'm serious! Considering he had no idea what he was going to write about when he started writing, I'd say it turned out rather well.
I have a memory which I can't quite tell whether it is mine or something I saw in a movie. Nothing huge and grand, like fighting aliens atop the Rock of Gibraltar, just an image of the subway system in New York. That's how cool New York is- your memories get mixed up with movies. This image is of a shuttle from Broadway to somewhere else that I (or was it Will Smith?) had to take, and it seemed to be at right angles and deeper in the ground than the rest of the subway system. It's that aspect of the image which makes me confused, since it seems kind of otherworldish, like the secret train to the Underworld or something. But I think it is my own memory.
My introduction to the subway sytem was quite a confusing state of affairs, as my new friend Ryan (I went to New York to visit Jonny but he was in Poortugal so he sent Ryan in his stead) took me from Manhattan to his place in Brooklyn, an easy jaunt, except that his line was being repaired, and we had to get off and take a detour involving shuttles and dripping walkways and such. The next day I was taking the subway all on my own, and with the aid of a Metro map, found it to be relatively straightforward. In fact, I got to be a bit of a pro at it. I would study my route and memorize the lines and stops so no one would ever guess I wasn't a native New Yorker, rather someone who had never before been to where he was going. Inevitably, some mistakes would occur, but I adapt well to these unforeseen tours, so it was all good. One night I was heading back to Ryan's on the same line with all the detours, but for some reason the train didn't stop at the place to get the shuttle, so I wound up almost all the way to Coney Island. At the end-of-the-line, I got out and pondered my options. It was 2AM, and I had a loooong walk back to Ryan's. Alternatively, I could take another train which would approach my stop from the other way. Which is what I did- very simple, really. I almost wish I could embellish the story with tales of muggings and ambulances, but I just went back to my place.
Here in Edmonton it's a little harder to get lost on our trains- there's only one line, which goes from the north-east corner of our city to the university. Tough luck for anyone who lives in the west or south. West Edmonton Mall? In the west end, as its name would suggest. No train service for you!
My introduction to the subway sytem was quite a confusing state of affairs, as my new friend Ryan (I went to New York to visit Jonny but he was in Poortugal so he sent Ryan in his stead) took me from Manhattan to his place in Brooklyn, an easy jaunt, except that his line was being repaired, and we had to get off and take a detour involving shuttles and dripping walkways and such. The next day I was taking the subway all on my own, and with the aid of a Metro map, found it to be relatively straightforward. In fact, I got to be a bit of a pro at it. I would study my route and memorize the lines and stops so no one would ever guess I wasn't a native New Yorker, rather someone who had never before been to where he was going. Inevitably, some mistakes would occur, but I adapt well to these unforeseen tours, so it was all good. One night I was heading back to Ryan's on the same line with all the detours, but for some reason the train didn't stop at the place to get the shuttle, so I wound up almost all the way to Coney Island. At the end-of-the-line, I got out and pondered my options. It was 2AM, and I had a loooong walk back to Ryan's. Alternatively, I could take another train which would approach my stop from the other way. Which is what I did- very simple, really. I almost wish I could embellish the story with tales of muggings and ambulances, but I just went back to my place.
Here in Edmonton it's a little harder to get lost on our trains- there's only one line, which goes from the north-east corner of our city to the university. Tough luck for anyone who lives in the west or south. West Edmonton Mall? In the west end, as its name would suggest. No train service for you!
Friday, August 22, 2003
What can I say? We know how to pick a play. For those of you who couldn't get tickets for Teaching Shakespeare, it is being held over. I give it a hearty recommendation, but only if you went to university and had to take an English class or two. If you have no interest in Shakespeare then obviously you wouldn't appreciate this play. Though I am hardly a connoisseur of the Bard. Ha- you could say the play was about a Bardian Guardian.
Anyways, the Fringe is almost over, so make sure to get out there if you haven't yet. Judging by tonight's crowds, though, I'd say most everyone in Edmonton was there. Does anyone know what the other holdovers are this year?
Anyways, the Fringe is almost over, so make sure to get out there if you haven't yet. Judging by tonight's crowds, though, I'd say most everyone in Edmonton was there. Does anyone know what the other holdovers are this year?
Over at theooze someone asked what are the top ten most influential albums in our lives, so I answered with what I thought was a pretty good list, though of course some albums might change from day to day, and decided to repoost it here for everyone else to see:
1. Metallica, . . . And Justice For All. Changed my life the first time I heard it, right from the opening seconds of "Blackened". Really all their albums belong on this list.
(After this the order gets a little murky)
2. Emylou Harris, Wrecking Ball. The first album of hers I got was actually Cowgirl's Prayer, but Wrecking Ball was an amazing bridge from her country/folk roots to something more . . . ethereal and haunting. Saw her in concert that year, too. Beautiful.
3. Stone Temple Pilots, Purple. I was just remarking to a friend of mine the other day that though this album came out nine years ago, hardly a month goes by when I don't listen to it at least once.
4. Red Hot CHili Peppers, Californication. From the ashes of their disbandment comes their (arguably) best album ever. Listening to it right now.
5. Marilyn Manson, Golden Age of Grotesque. It's been a while since a new CD has been able to completely intertwine itself into my life like this one has. From the swing beat of Doll Digga Buzz Buzz Ziggety Zag to the sonic thunderstorm of "Spade", the entire album is amazing. Burlesque for the end of the world.
6. Tragically Hip, Day for Night. The Hip ushered in a new era for Canadian music- one that encompassed more than Ian Tyson or Anne Murray or the Guess Who. Day for Night is my favorite of their albums, still accessible, but eclectic and arty at the same time. Check out "Grace, Too" and "Scared"- fantastic songs.
7. Faith No MOre, The Real Thing. Years ahead of its time. Still one of the most brilliant albums ever. Each song is complete and unique, yet the whole weaves together a cohesive tapestry. Any album that has songs about babies and vampires has to be amazing, right?
8. Beastie Boys, Hello Nasty. How could I forget my Boys? Although License to Ill was one of the first two "rap" albums I ever heard (Run DMC's Rasing Hell being the other one), I prefer their more grown up, freeTibet, respect life incarnation. Hello Nasty still knows how to party, though.
9. KoRn, Issues. I choose the album that gets the least respect amongst KoRN fans. How can you not love the bagpipes intro, and the incredible layering of drums, bass, guitars and angst throughout the album? I could do without the three minutes of white noise at the end, but that's what the stop button is for.
10. Wide Mouth Mason, self-titled. I include this one because they are Edmonton-based and most of you would not know about them. I love their first album. Very bluesy.
1. Metallica, . . . And Justice For All. Changed my life the first time I heard it, right from the opening seconds of "Blackened". Really all their albums belong on this list.
(After this the order gets a little murky)
2. Emylou Harris, Wrecking Ball. The first album of hers I got was actually Cowgirl's Prayer, but Wrecking Ball was an amazing bridge from her country/folk roots to something more . . . ethereal and haunting. Saw her in concert that year, too. Beautiful.
3. Stone Temple Pilots, Purple. I was just remarking to a friend of mine the other day that though this album came out nine years ago, hardly a month goes by when I don't listen to it at least once.
4. Red Hot CHili Peppers, Californication. From the ashes of their disbandment comes their (arguably) best album ever. Listening to it right now.
5. Marilyn Manson, Golden Age of Grotesque. It's been a while since a new CD has been able to completely intertwine itself into my life like this one has. From the swing beat of Doll Digga Buzz Buzz Ziggety Zag to the sonic thunderstorm of "Spade", the entire album is amazing. Burlesque for the end of the world.
6. Tragically Hip, Day for Night. The Hip ushered in a new era for Canadian music- one that encompassed more than Ian Tyson or Anne Murray or the Guess Who. Day for Night is my favorite of their albums, still accessible, but eclectic and arty at the same time. Check out "Grace, Too" and "Scared"- fantastic songs.
7. Faith No MOre, The Real Thing. Years ahead of its time. Still one of the most brilliant albums ever. Each song is complete and unique, yet the whole weaves together a cohesive tapestry. Any album that has songs about babies and vampires has to be amazing, right?
8. Beastie Boys, Hello Nasty. How could I forget my Boys? Although License to Ill was one of the first two "rap" albums I ever heard (Run DMC's Rasing Hell being the other one), I prefer their more grown up, freeTibet, respect life incarnation. Hello Nasty still knows how to party, though.
9. KoRn, Issues. I choose the album that gets the least respect amongst KoRN fans. How can you not love the bagpipes intro, and the incredible layering of drums, bass, guitars and angst throughout the album? I could do without the three minutes of white noise at the end, but that's what the stop button is for.
10. Wide Mouth Mason, self-titled. I include this one because they are Edmonton-based and most of you would not know about them. I love their first album. Very bluesy.
Ever tried resting your fingers on a table, slightly curled, and lifting just the ring finger? I find it really hard, my pinky always wants to come up too. I found another weird thing about the ways our bodies are wired here:
The right hand is wired to compel the right foot to move in a specific manner and the tendency is very difficult to fight mentally.
* While sitting at your desk make clockwise circles with your right foot.
* While doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand.
Your foot will change direction!
The right hand is wired to compel the right foot to move in a specific manner and the tendency is very difficult to fight mentally.
* While sitting at your desk make clockwise circles with your right foot.
* While doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand.
Your foot will change direction!
The Gender Genie
According to this algorithm, I am a female. Odd. I ran a bunch of Pooblog entries through, since they are the handiest bits of writing I have available, and every single time it guessed I was female. Even the poost about urinating- which I guess is excusable since I never mentioned urinal. Still, I wonder if it really is as accurate as it says it is- it would say something about my writing style, as well as the wiring of my brain. I've always considered myself to be comfortable enough with my masculine side to embrace the feminine, so it doesn't really bother me if my writing style is feminine. I just never would have thought of it that way.
PS- I even ran this entry through, and it still guessed female! I am a male. (Now we'll see what it says).
According to this algorithm, I am a female. Odd. I ran a bunch of Pooblog entries through, since they are the handiest bits of writing I have available, and every single time it guessed I was female. Even the poost about urinating- which I guess is excusable since I never mentioned urinal. Still, I wonder if it really is as accurate as it says it is- it would say something about my writing style, as well as the wiring of my brain. I've always considered myself to be comfortable enough with my masculine side to embrace the feminine, so it doesn't really bother me if my writing style is feminine. I just never would have thought of it that way.
PS- I even ran this entry through, and it still guessed female! I am a male. (Now we'll see what it says).
Thursday, August 21, 2003
FG Corner
In China a popular activity is English Corner, wherein anyone interested in learning and practising English converges for an evening to converse. As a native English speaker, I was often invited out to these meetings, and sometimes I went, but they took a lot of energy as you would have to be very patient with everyone saying to you, "Hello, what is your name? Now tell me something about Canada."
One day, Deanna and I were in a cafeteria, and we met this one guy who had incredible English skills. He was a little more portly than the average Chinese, and seemed to know quite a bit about American pop culture. He even asked me the name of the actor in a movie he had seen. Thinking he had made the common Chinese mistake of forgetting gender (Mandarin has no seperate pronouns for he and she, just the generic ta), I said "Julia Roberts?" And he responded, somewhat acidly, "I said actor, not actress."
Anyways, he also asked me to teach him to rap, so I taught him some Beastie Boys lyrics to practice, and I have to say that was one of the funniest things I've ever heard.
He actually was very funny, and made me laugh quite a bit as we talked into the evening. I asked him why he wasn't at English Corner, and he said, "I don't go to English Corner. I go to FG Corner."
"FG Corner? What's that?"
"Fat Guy Corner!"
In China a popular activity is English Corner, wherein anyone interested in learning and practising English converges for an evening to converse. As a native English speaker, I was often invited out to these meetings, and sometimes I went, but they took a lot of energy as you would have to be very patient with everyone saying to you, "Hello, what is your name? Now tell me something about Canada."
One day, Deanna and I were in a cafeteria, and we met this one guy who had incredible English skills. He was a little more portly than the average Chinese, and seemed to know quite a bit about American pop culture. He even asked me the name of the actor in a movie he had seen. Thinking he had made the common Chinese mistake of forgetting gender (Mandarin has no seperate pronouns for he and she, just the generic ta), I said "Julia Roberts?" And he responded, somewhat acidly, "I said actor, not actress."
Anyways, he also asked me to teach him to rap, so I taught him some Beastie Boys lyrics to practice, and I have to say that was one of the funniest things I've ever heard.
He actually was very funny, and made me laugh quite a bit as we talked into the evening. I asked him why he wasn't at English Corner, and he said, "I don't go to English Corner. I go to FG Corner."
"FG Corner? What's that?"
"Fat Guy Corner!"
Bathroom is a Canadian (and possibly British) term for washroom, and it seems it is not in common use in America, or elsewhere. That same friend, Deanna, was out shopping with her friend one day in China, and as they were crossing the perilously chaotic street, she mentioned to her friend that she would like to use a bathroom when they got a chance.
"You want to have a bath now?" her friend asked, incredulously, with a tone that said she must be crazy- they were shopping- this was no time to have a bath.
"You want to have a bath now?" her friend asked, incredulously, with a tone that said she must be crazy- they were shopping- this was no time to have a bath.
Do you know what chang is? A special kind of barley beer that Tibetans make. It's not bad- kind of thick. I can't remember if I was having that or regular beer or some other drink, but one night I and my friend Deanna were at a pub in Tibet that specialized in heavy, western music. We went there as a treat- normally I prefer to stay away from western establishments when in the east, but this was a Tibetan-run place, and I got to listen to some blessed Metallica and Chilli Peppers and other stuff. A nice break from the non-stop bell ringing lama who sat every single day just underneath our hostel window.
At some point it became necessary for me to relieve myself, so, as Tibetan establishments weren't always equipped with facilities for doing so, I asked our waitress, attempting first in Chinese. But she didn't understand me, and I didn't have any clue what the Tibetan was for that phrase, so I tried a few English phrases- "Do you have a bathroom? Washroom? Water Closet? Toilet?" All of these were met with a blank look. Finally, in desperation, I asked, "Where may I go to urinate?" At that the waitress brightened and pointed to the back where there was a very functional bathroom.
The year before, in China, my friend Darryl had a similar experience, and used a very effective mime to get his point across.
At some point it became necessary for me to relieve myself, so, as Tibetan establishments weren't always equipped with facilities for doing so, I asked our waitress, attempting first in Chinese. But she didn't understand me, and I didn't have any clue what the Tibetan was for that phrase, so I tried a few English phrases- "Do you have a bathroom? Washroom? Water Closet? Toilet?" All of these were met with a blank look. Finally, in desperation, I asked, "Where may I go to urinate?" At that the waitress brightened and pointed to the back where there was a very functional bathroom.
The year before, in China, my friend Darryl had a similar experience, and used a very effective mime to get his point across.
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Lemmings! My uncle used to have this game on his Amiga once upon a time. I watched him and my Dad play it. I never got a chance to, though. Adults. Now you can play it all you want, as long as you have Javascript. Which I currently don't. So tell me if it's fun or not.
The Dalai Lama is coming to the United States for a tour next month. I would really love to be in New York when he is there- probably won't happen, but you never know. Actually I think Jonny Smelter will be here during that time, so a visit from him might take precedence even over a visit from His Holiness. Still, I fear this may be the last time the Dalai Lama visits North American soil, but again, you never know. Maybe he'll come visit me in the Woods someday. In fact, here is a formal invitation from Homie Bear to the Dalai Lama- Tashi Delek! You are welcome here anytime you like! Bring the chang!
From In Exile From the Land of Snows, by John Avedon:
And for the distant future, the Dalai Lama reveals that he has long considered retiring, though doing so in a manner which would radically alter the nature of his position and, with it, Tibet's government. "There are many prophecies which indicate that I will be the last Dalai Lama," he continues, matter-of-factly. "The world is changing so dramatically, that there may no longer be a need for the lineage. Even if the institution of the Dalai Lama does remain, the method of choosing the new Dalai Lama may not be the old, traditional way. I may pick the next Dalai Lama myself. Theoretically, this is possible, and for practical reasons it may be more sound. Then, once I have chosen him, I can become an extra Dalai Lama. Just a simple Buddhist monk," he adds, laughing.
From In Exile From the Land of Snows, by John Avedon:
And for the distant future, the Dalai Lama reveals that he has long considered retiring, though doing so in a manner which would radically alter the nature of his position and, with it, Tibet's government. "There are many prophecies which indicate that I will be the last Dalai Lama," he continues, matter-of-factly. "The world is changing so dramatically, that there may no longer be a need for the lineage. Even if the institution of the Dalai Lama does remain, the method of choosing the new Dalai Lama may not be the old, traditional way. I may pick the next Dalai Lama myself. Theoretically, this is possible, and for practical reasons it may be more sound. Then, once I have chosen him, I can become an extra Dalai Lama. Just a simple Buddhist monk," he adds, laughing.
The CBC has a good Fringe review site, for you Edmonton locals who are looking for a good play to go to still. A play I saw earlier this year and loved, Boy Groove, is playing at the Fringe with the same cast, to excellent reviews. On Friday night we're going to Teaching Shakespeare: A Parody. All three of these plays (if you count the One Man Star Wars Trilogy I reviewed yesterday) are geting five star ratings in the papers and other media, which of course translates to 0 Poos here at the Woods.
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Went and saw The One Man Star Wars Trilogy today at the Fringe. It was excellent! Amazing. Hilarious. Intergalactic. In exactly one hour, this guy performed the entire Star Wars trilogy by himself. Without props, a set, or sound effects. But it felt amazingly like we were actually watching the movies, except his version had a bit more of a frenetic pace. If I had been doing it, I would have had a tendency to add too many extraneous comments, make a little more fun of it, but he avoided that, keeping to the original dialog, with the exception of a very small amount of well-chosen and -timed comments (Leia: It's not like that- Luke's my brother! Han: Then why were you always kissing him?) If you're here in Edmonton, try and go see it, though I think the shows are likely all sold out by now. If you're not here, well, go watch the trilogy and imagine one guy running all over a stage, imitating the character's voices and inflections EXACTLY (Han, Luke, Obi-Wan and Admiral Ackbar were dead-on, though his Yoda was a little off), and using his body language to simulate the special effects. Jabba the Hutt was especially well done, considering Jabba was just his arms talking like a giant mouth- but he even got Jabba's tongue movements perfectly, somehow. His name is Charles Ross, by the way.
Also I stopped in at a bookstore and hit paydirt today. Picked up a Tim Cahill book, Road Fever. Cahill being my other favorite author, in much the same vein as Bill Bryson, though more of an adventure traveler than Bryson is, which is why I think I gave Cahill a bit of an edge, though it is awfully close. This book is about a road trip from Tierra del Fuego to Alaska- basically going as far as is possible to drive on North and South America. All in 23 and a half days.
The other book I got is The Subtle Knife, by Phillip Pullman. Remember a few months ago when I found that book about the armored poolar bears? This is the sequel, which I've been looking for ever since I read The Golden Compass , which I highly recommend. So I was quite happy to find it, in pristine condition, for a mere $6.50. Road Fever was also $6.50. A very good night for me, I would have to say.
Also I stopped in at a bookstore and hit paydirt today. Picked up a Tim Cahill book, Road Fever. Cahill being my other favorite author, in much the same vein as Bill Bryson, though more of an adventure traveler than Bryson is, which is why I think I gave Cahill a bit of an edge, though it is awfully close. This book is about a road trip from Tierra del Fuego to Alaska- basically going as far as is possible to drive on North and South America. All in 23 and a half days.
The other book I got is The Subtle Knife, by Phillip Pullman. Remember a few months ago when I found that book about the armored poolar bears? This is the sequel, which I've been looking for ever since I read The Golden Compass , which I highly recommend. So I was quite happy to find it, in pristine condition, for a mere $6.50. Road Fever was also $6.50. A very good night for me, I would have to say.
Monday, August 18, 2003
I've mentioned before that Bill Bryson is one of my favorite authors- he's hilarious, and he's mostly (though not solely) a travel writer, so he's pretty much doing my dream job. I've been reading Bryson's In a Sunburned Country lately, and laughing out loud quite a bit. It's about Australia- I've never been to Australia. Do most people read travel books of places they've never been and have no immediate plans of going to? Doesn't matter. Reading such books inspires me to want to go there, wherever there is, someday. Here's a sample excerpt, pretty much chosen at random out of all the fantastic ones I could pick:
Never before had so many people been moved such a great distance at such expense- and all to be incarcerated. By modern standards, their punishments were ludicrously disproportionate. Most were small-time thieves. Britain wasn't trying to rid itself of dangerous criminals so much as thin out an underclass. The bulk were being sent to the ends of the earth for stealing trifles. One famously luckless soul hd been caught taking twelve cucumber plants. Another had unwisely pocketed a book called A Summary Account of the Flourishing State of the Island of Tobago. Most of the crimes smacked either of desperation or of temptation unsuccessfully resisted.
Generally the term of "transportation" was seven years, but since there was no provision for their return and few could hope to raise the fare, passage to Australia was effectively a life sentence. But then this was an unforgiving age. By the late eighteenth century Britain's statute books were weighty with special offenses; you could be hanged for any of two hundred acts, including, notably, "impersonating an Egyptian." In such circumstances, transportation was quite a merciful alternative.
Never before had so many people been moved such a great distance at such expense- and all to be incarcerated. By modern standards, their punishments were ludicrously disproportionate. Most were small-time thieves. Britain wasn't trying to rid itself of dangerous criminals so much as thin out an underclass. The bulk were being sent to the ends of the earth for stealing trifles. One famously luckless soul hd been caught taking twelve cucumber plants. Another had unwisely pocketed a book called A Summary Account of the Flourishing State of the Island of Tobago. Most of the crimes smacked either of desperation or of temptation unsuccessfully resisted.
Generally the term of "transportation" was seven years, but since there was no provision for their return and few could hope to raise the fare, passage to Australia was effectively a life sentence. But then this was an unforgiving age. By the late eighteenth century Britain's statute books were weighty with special offenses; you could be hanged for any of two hundred acts, including, notably, "impersonating an Egyptian." In such circumstances, transportation was quite a merciful alternative.
Usually I don't bother poosting every single interesting link I come across, because there are way too many, and I prefer to generate my own content, but this deserves special attention. If it seems to be kind of sedentary at first, just start clicking on things. You'll figure it out, if you're smrter than the average bear, the average bear being me, who figured it out all on his own. I have to admit I'm a little stuck on the anteater screen, though.
Never mind, I finished it. Pretty cool. Kind of reminds me of Oddworld.
Never mind, I finished it. Pretty cool. Kind of reminds me of Oddworld.
Cory and Lauren and McKenna were here for a quick visit. It was fun having a real live baby at my house. Plus at the Gathering last night there were three babies! A veritable kindergarten, in the literal sense of that word. Gartens need to be fertilized of couse, which is why it is so handy that kindergartens tend to be poofactories too. All three of the babies have been born in a span of four months, yet the difference in size ranges from small (Naomi), to medium (McKenna), to large (Griffin). In fact, I think Griffin's parents paid the extra quarter to have him supersized. Anyways, I had fun taking turns holding all three of them last night. Bear cubs are cool, but don't ever mess with the mamas!
I found my spoons!
A minor matter that has been vaguely troubling me for almost a year has finally been resolved today, quite by accident! Some of my friends who have had to listen to me go on and on about this matter may dispute the previous sentence, but really, it is a minor matter.
All of my spoons went missing. In this house all of us have our own dishes and cutlery and food (leaving us responsible solely for ourselves). When my spoons vanished I was forced to acquire a number of plastic spoons, which was really annoying. As someone who considers his morning bowl of cereal his most impoortant meal, you can see why this has caused me so much angst.
Today I was having some pie, so I went to grab a fork, and being a canny bear, decided I should use a pie fork, rather than a full-sized fork, which would remove that fork from my pool of clean cutlery I could use for suppers. So I reached WAAAY back in my cutlery drawer and found my spoons. This made me very happy.
Someone must have stuck them back there without telling me. I know, you are probably wondering why I never looked there in the first place, but they don't GO there, so why would I look there? Especially since I asked all my room-mates if they had seen my spoons, and they all professed ignorance.
Anyways, I know you don't care about my spoons, but the small pleasures in life must be appreciated. Plus, the word spoon contains those three magic letters.
A minor matter that has been vaguely troubling me for almost a year has finally been resolved today, quite by accident! Some of my friends who have had to listen to me go on and on about this matter may dispute the previous sentence, but really, it is a minor matter.
All of my spoons went missing. In this house all of us have our own dishes and cutlery and food (leaving us responsible solely for ourselves). When my spoons vanished I was forced to acquire a number of plastic spoons, which was really annoying. As someone who considers his morning bowl of cereal his most impoortant meal, you can see why this has caused me so much angst.
Today I was having some pie, so I went to grab a fork, and being a canny bear, decided I should use a pie fork, rather than a full-sized fork, which would remove that fork from my pool of clean cutlery I could use for suppers. So I reached WAAAY back in my cutlery drawer and found my spoons. This made me very happy.
Someone must have stuck them back there without telling me. I know, you are probably wondering why I never looked there in the first place, but they don't GO there, so why would I look there? Especially since I asked all my room-mates if they had seen my spoons, and they all professed ignorance.
Anyways, I know you don't care about my spoons, but the small pleasures in life must be appreciated. Plus, the word spoon contains those three magic letters.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
For Alex and Michelle’s wedding slideshow that I made, there were two pictures of Alex, taken some 20 years apart, in the same location. The first was of him as a baby resting cozily in the arms of Jasper the Bear, and the second shows him pretending to be choked by that same bear.
If you’ve ever been to Jasper, you know what I’m talking about. The Town of Jasper’s mascot is Jasper the Bear, and there are a couple fiberglass statues of him around town. Every tourist who has ever visited Jasper likely has a picture taken next to the bear. Since I grew up less than an hour’s drive from there, I am sadly lacking such a photo. It’s funny how we’ll take pictures of places we’ve spent exactly ten seconds of our lives at, preserving the moment forever, and then the places that actually have meaning in our day-to-day lives go unrecorded.
Anyways, what strikes me as odd about Jasper the Bear is his coloration. He’s mostly black, but his face and chest are white. He’s colored rather more like a penguin than any bear I’ve ever seen, even spirit bears. I can think of three possible reasons for this:
1. The original artist had never seen a real bear, and just painted it that way out of naïve ignorance.
2. It was originally painted all black, but this made for really bad pictures, so the Townsfolk painted it partially white to show up better in photos.
3. There was once a breed of Penguin Bears indigenous to, and perhaps unique to Jasper National Park, in much the same way as Kermode Bears are unique to a small section of the BC coast and islands.
Since #3 strikes me as the most reasonable, I am curious as to why this subspecies of bear has gone largely unnoticed. Note how Jasper seems to walk upright just like a penguin does. Perhaps they evolved during the last ice age, and can still be found in the recesses of the Colombia Icefields somewhere, cavorting on the glaciers and swimming in the alpine lakes. I propose an expedition to go and locate any surviving members of this species. Anyone want to come with?
If you’ve ever been to Jasper, you know what I’m talking about. The Town of Jasper’s mascot is Jasper the Bear, and there are a couple fiberglass statues of him around town. Every tourist who has ever visited Jasper likely has a picture taken next to the bear. Since I grew up less than an hour’s drive from there, I am sadly lacking such a photo. It’s funny how we’ll take pictures of places we’ve spent exactly ten seconds of our lives at, preserving the moment forever, and then the places that actually have meaning in our day-to-day lives go unrecorded.
Anyways, what strikes me as odd about Jasper the Bear is his coloration. He’s mostly black, but his face and chest are white. He’s colored rather more like a penguin than any bear I’ve ever seen, even spirit bears. I can think of three possible reasons for this:
1. The original artist had never seen a real bear, and just painted it that way out of naïve ignorance.
2. It was originally painted all black, but this made for really bad pictures, so the Townsfolk painted it partially white to show up better in photos.
3. There was once a breed of Penguin Bears indigenous to, and perhaps unique to Jasper National Park, in much the same way as Kermode Bears are unique to a small section of the BC coast and islands.
Since #3 strikes me as the most reasonable, I am curious as to why this subspecies of bear has gone largely unnoticed. Note how Jasper seems to walk upright just like a penguin does. Perhaps they evolved during the last ice age, and can still be found in the recesses of the Colombia Icefields somewhere, cavorting on the glaciers and swimming in the alpine lakes. I propose an expedition to go and locate any surviving members of this species. Anyone want to come with?
The Fringe Festival is going on now! As you may or may not know, Fringe Festivals are theater festivals which take place all over the world, originating in Edinburgh, but ours is the second biggest after Edinburgh's. It's kind of a big deal around here. Yesterday the Goddess and I went and tried to see a play, Star Wars Survivor, but it was sold out so we went to Pirates of the Caribbean instead (second time for both of us)- so we still had a fine day. Now we are going on Tueday to the One Man Star Wars Trilogy. Yup, there are two seperate Star Wars-themed plays at this year's Fringe. A few years ago, I saw The Boy's Own Jedi Handbook, and it was excellent, written by a Calgarian playwright. Hopefully the One Man Trilogy show will be good too. But there is far more to the Fringe than just Star Wars. One play that sounds intriguing is Cruel Beauty, about Medusa and Narcissus. The cool thing about the Fringe is it's all independent theater, so some shows are amazing, others are kind of pooey, but it's all in support of the arts. And it's good fun.
Saturday, August 16, 2003
The Interview Game
River Selkie always comes up with fun stuff to do. Here are the questions she asked me for the Interview Game. Wanna play?
1. which of all the kinds of bears do you like the best and why?
I like polar bears the best, because of their white fur and habitat. I went up to Churchill, Manitoba once just to see if I could see any. Saw one. But grizzlies and black bears are pretty close, since they are quite common where I grew up. And if I ever saw a real live Spirit Bear they would probably become my favorite.
2. what was your favorite cartoon growing up? and now?
Growing up in the '80's like I did, I'm afraid I watched a lot of really poor quality product tie-ins on Saturday morning. But Go-Bots and Dungeons and Dragons stand out in my memory as my favorites, probably D and D being more favorte. Now, the easy answer would be Simpsons, but does that even count as a cartoon? So I will say The Iron Giant (it's not a a series, and I hope it doesn't become one, but since you didn't specify . . .)
3. what is your life going to be like in 10 years?
There will be much wringing of hands as I ponder turning 40. But I hope I will be proud of who I turned out to be, and have some accomplishments I can point to as well. And that I managed to preserve some semblence of integrity and class, especially with my friends. And I hope I will have been to the Antarctic. Or to Mars.
4. if you were to be a superhero, what would your name be and what powers/weapons would you have?
Well, I am already known as Ultraman in another online incarnation, and in several epic poems I wrote a while back, but it turns out that name is copyrighted, so I would have to come up with a new one. How about Ursis? And my power would be lycanthropy, only with bears, and I could turn into any kind of bear I wanted, as well as intermediate states where I would have humanoid features but bear claws and strength and stuff. Plus for no plausible reason I would be able to fly.
5. what is your earliest memory?
I was 21, and . . . just kidding. Some of my really early memories are not trustworthy- did they really happen, or did I just make them up? And if they are based on reality, how much have they been distorted by the intervening years? I recall meeting my oldest friend Travis- my Dad left us in the car while he went into Travis' dad's hardware store and Trav came and started talking to me. He asked me what my name was, and I asked him what his name was, and he said I asked you first, to which I had no rejoinder, so I had to answer him. But he didn't tell me his name at that time. That was about 25 years ago, when I was 3. But Travis doesn't remember that at all, so who knows?
Official Rules
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
River Selkie always comes up with fun stuff to do. Here are the questions she asked me for the Interview Game. Wanna play?
1. which of all the kinds of bears do you like the best and why?
I like polar bears the best, because of their white fur and habitat. I went up to Churchill, Manitoba once just to see if I could see any. Saw one. But grizzlies and black bears are pretty close, since they are quite common where I grew up. And if I ever saw a real live Spirit Bear they would probably become my favorite.
2. what was your favorite cartoon growing up? and now?
Growing up in the '80's like I did, I'm afraid I watched a lot of really poor quality product tie-ins on Saturday morning. But Go-Bots and Dungeons and Dragons stand out in my memory as my favorites, probably D and D being more favorte. Now, the easy answer would be Simpsons, but does that even count as a cartoon? So I will say The Iron Giant (it's not a a series, and I hope it doesn't become one, but since you didn't specify . . .)
3. what is your life going to be like in 10 years?
There will be much wringing of hands as I ponder turning 40. But I hope I will be proud of who I turned out to be, and have some accomplishments I can point to as well. And that I managed to preserve some semblence of integrity and class, especially with my friends. And I hope I will have been to the Antarctic. Or to Mars.
4. if you were to be a superhero, what would your name be and what powers/weapons would you have?
Well, I am already known as Ultraman in another online incarnation, and in several epic poems I wrote a while back, but it turns out that name is copyrighted, so I would have to come up with a new one. How about Ursis? And my power would be lycanthropy, only with bears, and I could turn into any kind of bear I wanted, as well as intermediate states where I would have humanoid features but bear claws and strength and stuff. Plus for no plausible reason I would be able to fly.
5. what is your earliest memory?
I was 21, and . . . just kidding. Some of my really early memories are not trustworthy- did they really happen, or did I just make them up? And if they are based on reality, how much have they been distorted by the intervening years? I recall meeting my oldest friend Travis- my Dad left us in the car while he went into Travis' dad's hardware store and Trav came and started talking to me. He asked me what my name was, and I asked him what his name was, and he said I asked you first, to which I had no rejoinder, so I had to answer him. But he didn't tell me his name at that time. That was about 25 years ago, when I was 3. But Travis doesn't remember that at all, so who knows?
Official Rules
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
I haven't bothered linking to the Star Wars Kid, because he's ALL over the internet, so I'm sure you've seen him by now, but I like this guy's take on it. I'm not really sure how he did that, maybe it's just some software you run a file through, I don't know, I just think it's kind of cool.
Friday, August 15, 2003
AS weddings go, Alex and Michelle's was a pretty good one. It was also good to see some old friends at the reception, and meet some new ones (hi to Dan and Beth if they are reading this). The poowerpoint thing was well received. Fun dance. They made all the tables write haikus before they could go up and eat, and though our table's haiku was very fine, written as it was by a 12 year old, I would just like to take this chance to write one for them myself, it's been kind of a while since I wrote a haiku. Heck, it's been a while since I wrote a haipoo. Anyways,
Most weddings drag by
Yours was fun and fun and fun
Like a trampooline
Even though I know they are honeymooning now and not reading this, for the record I would just like to say congrats and God bless, Alex and Michelle.
Most weddings drag by
Yours was fun and fun and fun
Like a trampooline
Even though I know they are honeymooning now and not reading this, for the record I would just like to say congrats and God bless, Alex and Michelle.
I was ushering at Alex and Michelle's wedding just now. Ushering is not a bad job, you get to take all the ladies to their seats. Sometimes you have to be the Averter of Emergencies, like when Jonny was videotaping the ceremony, which was just about to get under way, and he came over to me and told me he only had five minutes of video left, so I had to run across the street to the London Drugs to get a new tape. I sprinted, in my three piece suit in the 30 degree weather. Yuck, I got all sweaty after. But we only missed about a minute of ceremony so it was worth it. Congratulations to Alex and Michelle. They are fine bears. Tonight is their reception, for which I am doing the poowerpoint slide show.
Thursday, August 14, 2003
I just received my prize (for winning one of the categories in her bloggiversary contest) from River Selkie in the mail today! Actually, my neighbour receieved it and was honest enough to come and deliver it to me rather than keep it for herself, which surely must have been tempting because it is a FANTASTIC prize. It is a copy of Louie Larkey and the Bad Dream Patrol! Do you see the connections? A story about bears, and dreams! How cool is that? Selkie's blog is actually enitiled Dreams of a River Selkie. So, thank you Selkie, I love it.
Wednesday, August 13, 2003
It's been, what, a week? since I wrote about Marilyn Manson. Heck, I even went a whole day yesterday without listening to Golden Age of Grotesque (I'm listening to it right now though!). Anyways, he is going to be on Conan O'Brien tonight- right away in fact. Too bad I don't have cable. Maybe we still get Conan, though, I'll go check.
Nope, as far as I can tell, we don't get Conan on any of our four channels. Oh well. Maybe I can pretend I have a talk show, and I am interviewing Bearilyn Manson. (Oh man, I should just stop typing right now . . . )
Homie Bear: Welcome to the show Bearilyn.
Bearilyn Manson: Thank you.
[small talk]
HB: You've recently been banned from performing in the Hundred Acre Wood. Does it surprise you that after all these years you are still getting censored?
BM: Well, there will always be small minds in this world, but I still feel bad for all the kids who buy the tickets and want to see my show. People see me as a villain, and I don't mind filling that role, but of course the real villains are the ones who have the power to censor and censure other human beings.
HB: True, true. So . . . do you like . . .stuff?
MB: I like intelligent discussion, but it seems as though there is none of that to be found here.
HB: Well, it's just that, I'm having a hard time making up a fake interview with a guy named Bearilyn Manson- I mean come on, is that a stupid name or what?
MB: Well, all you ever talk about is poo, "Homie" Bear. If that is your real name.
[the two bears fight, and the show devolves into a Jerry Springer like fiasco. Homie Bear's show is cancelled the next day and he has to go back to the Woods, but first he apoologizes to the nation on Access HollyWoods, and he tearfully reconciles with Bearilyn and they live happily ever after, except in the Hundred Acre Wood]
Well, so much for that. I guess I better stick to pooetry. In real life, though, me and Marilyn Manson would get along just fine. And I would be a better talk show host.
Nope, as far as I can tell, we don't get Conan on any of our four channels. Oh well. Maybe I can pretend I have a talk show, and I am interviewing Bearilyn Manson. (Oh man, I should just stop typing right now . . . )
Homie Bear: Welcome to the show Bearilyn.
Bearilyn Manson: Thank you.
[small talk]
HB: You've recently been banned from performing in the Hundred Acre Wood. Does it surprise you that after all these years you are still getting censored?
BM: Well, there will always be small minds in this world, but I still feel bad for all the kids who buy the tickets and want to see my show. People see me as a villain, and I don't mind filling that role, but of course the real villains are the ones who have the power to censor and censure other human beings.
HB: True, true. So . . . do you like . . .stuff?
MB: I like intelligent discussion, but it seems as though there is none of that to be found here.
HB: Well, it's just that, I'm having a hard time making up a fake interview with a guy named Bearilyn Manson- I mean come on, is that a stupid name or what?
MB: Well, all you ever talk about is poo, "Homie" Bear. If that is your real name.
[the two bears fight, and the show devolves into a Jerry Springer like fiasco. Homie Bear's show is cancelled the next day and he has to go back to the Woods, but first he apoologizes to the nation on Access HollyWoods, and he tearfully reconciles with Bearilyn and they live happily ever after, except in the Hundred Acre Wood]
Well, so much for that. I guess I better stick to pooetry. In real life, though, me and Marilyn Manson would get along just fine. And I would be a better talk show host.
Awww- thanks!
T3 was better than I anticipated, good action, some laughs, gutsy ending. I'd vote for Arnie if I could- though I'm a little worried he might actually be a Terminator sent back to win the election so he can activate SkyNet in order to end the world. Anyways, enough about that. Lydia, aka Chrysostoma aka the Oneploughwoman, has sent me a very nice email, and said I could use it as a guest poost (which are always welcome around here, by the way). Seems she wanted to encourage me about turning 29, like I was saying a few days ago. I won't reveal her age, but she has a few years before she has to go through the same ordeal. But when she does, I will be sure to send the same goodness her way. Here it is, ten reasons why turning 29 doesn't equal poo:
1) it's your last year of twenty-something life. next year, you'll get to begin an entirely new decade. go out with a bang!
2) when 40-year olds want to lie about their age, they often say they're 29. you won't have to lie about your age this coming year. ;)
3) high school is in your distant past. which means, therefore, any memories you have of detentions, or mean teachers, or embarassing moments are at least a decade old. and therefore only remembered by a select few.
4) 29 is a prime number. and everyone knows that prime numbers are the coolest numbers in mathematics.
5) when jesus was 29, he......well, i think he still lived with his parents and worked at the family business. and was probably bored stiff with 1st century mid-eastern life. you DON'T live with your parents, and you only work with them when you want to (or when they ask really nicely, i'd imagine). and plus you're the least boring person i've ever met.
6) every month has at least 29 days. even february (on leap years.)
7) kids see all adults as old. it's a fact of nature. it won't make much difference to a kid if you say you're "28" or "29." they probably won't even know the difference.
8) i bet the city of Twentynine Palms, California, would give you a discount if you visit them during the 29th year of your life. ;)
9) and then there's the restored, 18th century middle-class home, "Number Twenty Nine", in Dublin, Ireland. good tourist attraction. .
10) this poem reminded me of you. maybe it'll inspire you to write your own pooem about the essence of twenty-nine-ness?
Turning Twenty-Nine
by Beth Ann Fennelly
You thought by now youd be wiser,
not still falling for the old x=y.
You wonder how youd do if you were
the last person on earth and had to found
a new civilization: Could you describe
how an engine works? A radio? A light bulb?
You repeat the word bulb. Bulb, bulb, bulb.
You stop in the nick of time. Time nicks us all
sooner or later; thats democracy.
Once you were in Russia, and a woman
cut your hair. She bent you over a tub,
noosed you in a towel, and snipped away.
It was the best cut you ever got.
You drank tumblers of vodka with her husband.
The next day, your last in that country,
you took a bus to the Hermitage
and puked in the john until closing.
You didnt see a painting. Not one.
Somehow, youre this kind of person.
Its hard to believe, though you were voted
Most Likely to Yak in Russias Best Museum
with Good Hair. Dont you hate it
when high schools right? Dont you hate it
when 2nd person swishes its tongue inside your ear?
You wonder how youd do in solitary confinement.
You cant do long division in your head.
You dont know isometric exercises.
Edisons last words: It is beautiful over there.
Yours: These pretzels are making me thirsty.
You wonder if suffering makes people
more compassionate. Coleridge, caring
for his typhoid son, wrote by candlelight
twenty-three nights into the fever:
Turned a poor (very large & beautiful)
Moth out of the Window in a hard Shower
of rain to save it from the Flames!
Thats one kind of person.
When you visit your father who is dying
at last, and he turns, death-dumb,
and whispers, Did you bring Beth Ann?
You say, No. Thats another.
T3 was better than I anticipated, good action, some laughs, gutsy ending. I'd vote for Arnie if I could- though I'm a little worried he might actually be a Terminator sent back to win the election so he can activate SkyNet in order to end the world. Anyways, enough about that. Lydia, aka Chrysostoma aka the Oneploughwoman, has sent me a very nice email, and said I could use it as a guest poost (which are always welcome around here, by the way). Seems she wanted to encourage me about turning 29, like I was saying a few days ago. I won't reveal her age, but she has a few years before she has to go through the same ordeal. But when she does, I will be sure to send the same goodness her way. Here it is, ten reasons why turning 29 doesn't equal poo:
1) it's your last year of twenty-something life. next year, you'll get to begin an entirely new decade. go out with a bang!
2) when 40-year olds want to lie about their age, they often say they're 29. you won't have to lie about your age this coming year. ;)
3) high school is in your distant past. which means, therefore, any memories you have of detentions, or mean teachers, or embarassing moments are at least a decade old. and therefore only remembered by a select few.
4) 29 is a prime number. and everyone knows that prime numbers are the coolest numbers in mathematics.
5) when jesus was 29, he......well, i think he still lived with his parents and worked at the family business. and was probably bored stiff with 1st century mid-eastern life. you DON'T live with your parents, and you only work with them when you want to (or when they ask really nicely, i'd imagine). and plus you're the least boring person i've ever met.
6) every month has at least 29 days. even february (on leap years.)
7) kids see all adults as old. it's a fact of nature. it won't make much difference to a kid if you say you're "28" or "29." they probably won't even know the difference.
8) i bet the city of Twentynine Palms, California, would give you a discount if you visit them during the 29th year of your life. ;)
9) and then there's the restored, 18th century middle-class home, "Number Twenty Nine", in Dublin, Ireland. good tourist attraction. .
10) this poem reminded me of you. maybe it'll inspire you to write your own pooem about the essence of twenty-nine-ness?
Turning Twenty-Nine
by Beth Ann Fennelly
You thought by now youd be wiser,
not still falling for the old x=y.
You wonder how youd do if you were
the last person on earth and had to found
a new civilization: Could you describe
how an engine works? A radio? A light bulb?
You repeat the word bulb. Bulb, bulb, bulb.
You stop in the nick of time. Time nicks us all
sooner or later; thats democracy.
Once you were in Russia, and a woman
cut your hair. She bent you over a tub,
noosed you in a towel, and snipped away.
It was the best cut you ever got.
You drank tumblers of vodka with her husband.
The next day, your last in that country,
you took a bus to the Hermitage
and puked in the john until closing.
You didnt see a painting. Not one.
Somehow, youre this kind of person.
Its hard to believe, though you were voted
Most Likely to Yak in Russias Best Museum
with Good Hair. Dont you hate it
when high schools right? Dont you hate it
when 2nd person swishes its tongue inside your ear?
You wonder how youd do in solitary confinement.
You cant do long division in your head.
You dont know isometric exercises.
Edisons last words: It is beautiful over there.
Yours: These pretzels are making me thirsty.
You wonder if suffering makes people
more compassionate. Coleridge, caring
for his typhoid son, wrote by candlelight
twenty-three nights into the fever:
Turned a poor (very large & beautiful)
Moth out of the Window in a hard Shower
of rain to save it from the Flames!
Thats one kind of person.
When you visit your father who is dying
at last, and he turns, death-dumb,
and whispers, Did you bring Beth Ann?
You say, No. Thats another.
Me and Evil Roommate (he's not evil at all, it's just fun to call him that) and Trevor are going to go see T3. Maybe I'll find more memorable movie lines for you. And we can all wish we were Californians so we could have Arnie as our Governor. But ol' Ralphie keeps things interesting around here, too. He's our premier- we don't have governors around here. I like him, even if we don't agree on everything- he's a pretty good guy for a poolitician. Kind of your typical Albertan.
I also like the voiceover in Se7en at the end, where Morgan Freeman says, "Ernest Hemingway once said, 'The world is a fine place, and worth fighting for.' I agree with the second part."
I was trying to think of some more memorable movie lines (aside from all the obvious ones that have entered pop-culture, like "Luke, I am your father.") and I'm drawing something of a blank. Do you have any?
The Bear (our local rock radio station) always does Rocklines- a contest where they say a lyric from a song, and the caller has 15 seconds to identify the song. I NEVER get them (I try and play along, I don't actually go on the radio), even if I totally know the song. In fact, yesterday it was the Offspring's Come out and Play (which was interrupted by the tornado warning), which I only got a second after the buzzer, even though it was a totally easy line- "One guy's wasted and the other's a waste." Without the melody, it's really hard, even though I have the lyrics to hundreds, maybe even thousands of songs memorized. Must be a brain hemisphere thing.
I was trying to think of some more memorable movie lines (aside from all the obvious ones that have entered pop-culture, like "Luke, I am your father.") and I'm drawing something of a blank. Do you have any?
The Bear (our local rock radio station) always does Rocklines- a contest where they say a lyric from a song, and the caller has 15 seconds to identify the song. I NEVER get them (I try and play along, I don't actually go on the radio), even if I totally know the song. In fact, yesterday it was the Offspring's Come out and Play (which was interrupted by the tornado warning), which I only got a second after the buzzer, even though it was a totally easy line- "One guy's wasted and the other's a waste." Without the melody, it's really hard, even though I have the lyrics to hundreds, maybe even thousands of songs memorized. Must be a brain hemisphere thing.
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
Here's an excerpt from a book I'm reading, that I found sort of amusing:
Mr. Wong claimed to have been a general in Chiang Kai Shek's army (this may have been true, but I met many Nationalist soldiers who all claimed the same thing and I came to suppose that it was an army composed entirely of generals).
The book is called Chasing the Dragon by Jackie Pullinger. A friend from the Gathering lent it to me. It's about a missionary who went to Hong Kong's Walled City and ministered to heroin and opium addicts, mostly Triad members and the like.
I also watched The Fifth Element tonight. That's one of my favorite movies, I watch it once a year or so. I love the characters, the aliens, the action, the dialog (especially Leeloo's Divine language) and the visuals. Fun movie all around, definitely gets a 0 poo rating. There's a part where the President of Earth is ordering a missile strike on the mysterious Big Ball of Evil, and just before he gives the order, he says to his general, "I have a doubt." I like that. Sometimes in my own life I find myself saying that about stuff, no angst, no hand-wringing (at least I try not), just a simple, classy statement. I often twig on minor scenes and pieces of dialog like that- my favorite bit of dialog in Gladiator is when MArcus Aurelius asks Maximus how he can reward him, and Maximus says, "Let me go home."
Mr. Wong claimed to have been a general in Chiang Kai Shek's army (this may have been true, but I met many Nationalist soldiers who all claimed the same thing and I came to suppose that it was an army composed entirely of generals).
The book is called Chasing the Dragon by Jackie Pullinger. A friend from the Gathering lent it to me. It's about a missionary who went to Hong Kong's Walled City and ministered to heroin and opium addicts, mostly Triad members and the like.
I also watched The Fifth Element tonight. That's one of my favorite movies, I watch it once a year or so. I love the characters, the aliens, the action, the dialog (especially Leeloo's Divine language) and the visuals. Fun movie all around, definitely gets a 0 poo rating. There's a part where the President of Earth is ordering a missile strike on the mysterious Big Ball of Evil, and just before he gives the order, he says to his general, "I have a doubt." I like that. Sometimes in my own life I find myself saying that about stuff, no angst, no hand-wringing (at least I try not), just a simple, classy statement. I often twig on minor scenes and pieces of dialog like that- my favorite bit of dialog in Gladiator is when MArcus Aurelius asks Maximus how he can reward him, and Maximus says, "Let me go home."
I was listening to the Bear just now, and in the middle of the Offspring's Come Out and Play, the feed was interrupted by the Alberta Emergency Broadcasting System. Or whatever it's called. A tornado just touched down in Wabamun, which is a small town on a lake just west of here. Crazy- it's not even windy where I am- well, actually the wind has just picked up a bit, come to think about it. I have never heard the Emergency Broadcasting thing before, other than "This is a test of the blah blah blah". I hope everyone's okay.
Monday, August 11, 2003
It could have been me!
I was reading the Hinton Parklander (my hometown's paper) and saw this story about a problem bear. Sad. I wish they would at least try transporting them somewhere else first.
Please, all my bear friends out there, stay out of the way of humans. They aren't that smrt, and they will just want to shoot you.
I was reading the Hinton Parklander (my hometown's paper) and saw this story about a problem bear. Sad. I wish they would at least try transporting them somewhere else first.
Please, all my bear friends out there, stay out of the way of humans. They aren't that smrt, and they will just want to shoot you.
Time Flies, but I Prefer Hitch-hiking
I've been sort of sad lately. Not crying-sad, just sort of melancholic. In one month I will be 29. Which is the last year of twentyness. This wouldn't be so bad if I had some sort of anything to show for it. Oh well, I'll just have to make the most of my last 13 months as a twentysomething. Maybe I can win a Nobel Prize or two.
Tomorrow my first cousin is turning 18. I remember quite clearly the day she was born. It was excting because up until that point me and my sister had no cousins- a side-effect of our parents being so young when they had us. Speaking of my parents, they will be celebrating their 29th anniversary later this week. Wow. Being married for 29 years is a formidable accomplishment. Turning 29 seems less so, but maybe if I just fool myself a bit, I can learn to accept, even embrace the aging process. As long as I stay immature enough to still enjoy poo jokes, I guess I will never truly get too old.
So anyways, happy brithday, C!
When I turned 18, she would have been 7, and she was convinced that I still had two more years to go until I was an adult (here in Alberta, 18 is the age of majority- you can vote, just like everywhere else, but you can also go to bars and buy alcohol, unlike a lot of other provinces). I've been waiting 11 years to get her back.
And I just remembered how sad I was when I turned 20, and this almost-decade has been pretty great, for the most part. So my 30's will be cool too. Maybe even cooler- I'm much smrter than I was ten years ago- back then I thought I was pretty smrt, and really wasn't, whereas now, I don't think I know much of anything, which is an improvement I think.
I've been sort of sad lately. Not crying-sad, just sort of melancholic. In one month I will be 29. Which is the last year of twentyness. This wouldn't be so bad if I had some sort of anything to show for it. Oh well, I'll just have to make the most of my last 13 months as a twentysomething. Maybe I can win a Nobel Prize or two.
Tomorrow my first cousin is turning 18. I remember quite clearly the day she was born. It was excting because up until that point me and my sister had no cousins- a side-effect of our parents being so young when they had us. Speaking of my parents, they will be celebrating their 29th anniversary later this week. Wow. Being married for 29 years is a formidable accomplishment. Turning 29 seems less so, but maybe if I just fool myself a bit, I can learn to accept, even embrace the aging process. As long as I stay immature enough to still enjoy poo jokes, I guess I will never truly get too old.
So anyways, happy brithday, C!
When I turned 18, she would have been 7, and she was convinced that I still had two more years to go until I was an adult (here in Alberta, 18 is the age of majority- you can vote, just like everywhere else, but you can also go to bars and buy alcohol, unlike a lot of other provinces). I've been waiting 11 years to get her back.
And I just remembered how sad I was when I turned 20, and this almost-decade has been pretty great, for the most part. So my 30's will be cool too. Maybe even cooler- I'm much smrter than I was ten years ago- back then I thought I was pretty smrt, and really wasn't, whereas now, I don't think I know much of anything, which is an improvement I think.
When I went south last week, I turned east at Fort MacLeod on the Crowsnest highway. Had I gone west, I would have eventually been turned away, as there is currently an out-of-control fire raging in that area. It's a beautiful area, but it's had more than its share of disasters over the years- 100 years ago there was the Frank Slide, and less well-known is the Hillcrest Mine Disaster, in which 195 men lost their lives in an explosion in 1914. It was the worst mining disaster in Canadian history. The United Mine Workers of America (of which I am a member, local 1656) makes a point of commemorating the tragedy in their magazine every now and then, which is the only reason I even know about it. And now I am passng the info along to you.
In other cheery news, also geologically related, it seems that Mt. Rainier is far less stable than anyone realized. I find the phrase "existence-ending event" to be particularly apt and evocative.
In other cheery news, also geologically related, it seems that Mt. Rainier is far less stable than anyone realized. I find the phrase "existence-ending event" to be particularly apt and evocative.
Sunday, August 10, 2003
You bastard! You stole my pillow!
Sherry calls me today, and says she has something of mine. For the life of me I couldn't think of what she could possibly have that belongs to me. So I asked what it was. A pillow, she says. A pillow? What the . . .? Turns out, three years ago, I hosted a group of Bible college students at my house for a few days. One was a bright young starry-eyed Christian guy, soon to be president of his Bible College students' union. And he stole my pillow. At first I was like, a pillow?? He must have accidentally took it with him when they left- these things happen. But Sherry said, "No, he stole it deliberately and felt really bad about it so he asked me to return it to you."
Silly Christians. Can't even steal a pillow without being racked by guilt. I didn't even notice, and now that I know, it just makes me roll my eyes. Christians.
Sorry, no offense to Christians- I am one myself. Though I might prefer a different name to distinguish myself from all the poo-brains out there. (See my Vampires article for my more thought-out thoughts on this subject). And I should give the guy props for coming clean. Stealing IS wrong, after all. Even if it's just a stupid little pillow.
Sherry calls me today, and says she has something of mine. For the life of me I couldn't think of what she could possibly have that belongs to me. So I asked what it was. A pillow, she says. A pillow? What the . . .? Turns out, three years ago, I hosted a group of Bible college students at my house for a few days. One was a bright young starry-eyed Christian guy, soon to be president of his Bible College students' union. And he stole my pillow. At first I was like, a pillow?? He must have accidentally took it with him when they left- these things happen. But Sherry said, "No, he stole it deliberately and felt really bad about it so he asked me to return it to you."
Silly Christians. Can't even steal a pillow without being racked by guilt. I didn't even notice, and now that I know, it just makes me roll my eyes. Christians.
Sorry, no offense to Christians- I am one myself. Though I might prefer a different name to distinguish myself from all the poo-brains out there. (See my Vampires article for my more thought-out thoughts on this subject). And I should give the guy props for coming clean. Stealing IS wrong, after all. Even if it's just a stupid little pillow.
Saturday, August 09, 2003
I am going to the football game tonight. Not to watch, not to cheer, not even to sing the Fight Song, but to serve drinks in a concession stand. I am Engaging in this Noble Endeavour in support of the girl guides of Canada. My aunt called me and asked if I could help out, as they were four people short. I pointed out to her that I am neither a Brownie nor a Pathfinder or anything like that. It seems that that is ok. The actual guides are in Nova Scotia or something like that, hence the need for replacements. So I said yes, but I will not be wearing a Brownie uniform. They won't let me.
The Eskimos are playing the Argonauts, in case you care. The score will be, as always, 32 to poo for the Esks.
UPDATE
I have learned a few things about concession stands I would like to pass on to you as a pooblic service announcement.
1. Don't eat at concession stands.
2. Actually number 1 says all I need to say.
They are that gross. Seriously. Packaged things: not so bad. But popcorn, nachos, hotdogs, anything like that, stay away from those. It was horrible! I just tried hard to shut off my brain for the six hours. Kept myself distracted with happy thougts of bears and woods and ummm, not poo so much, since that was a little too close to what we were serving.
Ok, it wasnt quite that bad, but I won't be doing that ever again.
On the plus side, I heard the Esks won the game.
The Eskimos are playing the Argonauts, in case you care. The score will be, as always, 32 to poo for the Esks.
UPDATE
I have learned a few things about concession stands I would like to pass on to you as a pooblic service announcement.
1. Don't eat at concession stands.
2. Actually number 1 says all I need to say.
They are that gross. Seriously. Packaged things: not so bad. But popcorn, nachos, hotdogs, anything like that, stay away from those. It was horrible! I just tried hard to shut off my brain for the six hours. Kept myself distracted with happy thougts of bears and woods and ummm, not poo so much, since that was a little too close to what we were serving.
Ok, it wasnt quite that bad, but I won't be doing that ever again.
On the plus side, I heard the Esks won the game.
Friday, August 08, 2003
Cory and Lauren live in this super nice house (it's big and was built in 1916 or something) , and little McKenna is super cute, and she didn't poo on me while I was holding her ever, so super fun was had by all! Yup, it was a nice little mini-holiday. They live out on a farm, so Cory and I did lots of fun farm things (yes, fun and farm together- obviously I never grew up around a farm). Cory likes to make cowboy stuff, like bridles and chaps and all that, and he made a holster for his gun, a replica Colt .45. He let me put it on, with a cowboy hat, and I felt just like a real Old West gunslinger. The fact that I was wearing shorts and sandals kind of ruined the illusion, but oh well. We shot the gun a few times, I even hit the target a couple times, and then it started raining so we had to go inside. But actually we went back outside to watch the storm, since it looked like a tornado might develop, though none did.
Yesterday we drove down close to the Montana border and spent the day at Writing-On-Stone Provincial Park, a little oasis filled with hoodoos (and poodoos too, I'm sure) that have been used by the Native Blackfoot and Peigan nations for petroglyphs for hundreds of years. Very cool.
But we didn't do any canoeing this time. No pirating either.
Yesterday we drove down close to the Montana border and spent the day at Writing-On-Stone Provincial Park, a little oasis filled with hoodoos (and poodoos too, I'm sure) that have been used by the Native Blackfoot and Peigan nations for petroglyphs for hundreds of years. Very cool.
But we didn't do any canoeing this time. No pirating either.
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
Can't Get Enough Pirates
Since I and everyone else loved Pirates of the Caribbean so much, here are the lyrics to a song written by a local band (The Arrogant Worms, covered as well by Captain Tractor) , about pirates on one of our very own rivers:
The Last Saskatchewan Pirate
Oh, I used to be a farmer and I made a living fine,
I had a little stretch of land along the CP line
But times are hard and though I tried, the money wasn't there
And bankers came and took my land and told me fair is fair
I looked for every kind of job, the answer always "no"
Hire you now, they'd always laugh, we just let twenty go!
The government, they promised me a measly little sum
But I've got too much pride to end up just another bum.
Then I thought who gives a damn if all the jobs are gone
I'm gonna be a PIRATE! on the River Saskatchewan!
(ar.. ar.. ar..)
Chorus:
Cause it's a heave-ho! hi-ho!
Coming down the plains
Stealing wheat and barley and all the other grains
And it's a ho-hey! hi-hey!
Farmers bar your doors when you see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores.
Arr!
Well you think the local farmers would know that I'm at large
But, just the other day I saw an unprotected barge
I snuck up right behind them and they were none the wiser,
I rammed their ship, and sank it, and I stole their fertilizer!
A bridge outside of Moose Jaw spans a mighty river
The farmers pass in so much fear, their stomachs are a-quiver
Because they know that TRACTOR JACK! is hiding in the bay,
I'll jump the bridge and knock them cold and sail off with their hay!
Chorus
Well Mountie Bob he chased me, he was always at my throat
He'd follow on the shoreline 'cause he didn't own a boat
But cutbacks were a-coming and the Mountie lost his job
Now he's sailing with me and we call him Salty Bob.
A swingin' sword, and skull n' bones, and pleasant company
I never pay my income tax and screw the GST- SCREW IT!
Prince Albert down to Saskatoon, I'm the terror of the sea
If ya wanna reach the Co-op, boy, you gotta get by me!
Chorus
Well, pirate life's appealing, but you don't just find it here
I've heard in North Alberta, there's a band of bucaneers
They roam the Athabasca, from Smith to Fort McKay
And you're gonna lose your Stetson if you have to pass their way
Well winter is a-coming and a chill is in the breeze
Our pirate days are over once the river starts to freeze
I'll be back in springtime, but now I 've to go,
I hear there's lots of plundering down in New Mexico!
Chorus
Copyright 1992 The Arrogant Worms All Rights Reserved
The song itself is a lot of fun, especially the Captain Tractor version, for which they filmed a video on West Edmonton Mall's pirate ship. You might be able to find this song in mp3 format somewhere . . . . and there is a Veggietales song called The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. Lots of pirate songs for you today. Two, I guess. I'm sure there are others, though. Maybe one about Space Pirates. And one about Software Pirates. Probably one about pirates who only plunder Fool's Gold- Pyrite Pirates. Hee hee.
Anyways, like I said yesterday, I'm off to do some plundering in Southern Alberta. In a canoe. So poo.
Since I and everyone else loved Pirates of the Caribbean so much, here are the lyrics to a song written by a local band (The Arrogant Worms, covered as well by Captain Tractor) , about pirates on one of our very own rivers:
The Last Saskatchewan Pirate
Oh, I used to be a farmer and I made a living fine,
I had a little stretch of land along the CP line
But times are hard and though I tried, the money wasn't there
And bankers came and took my land and told me fair is fair
I looked for every kind of job, the answer always "no"
Hire you now, they'd always laugh, we just let twenty go!
The government, they promised me a measly little sum
But I've got too much pride to end up just another bum.
Then I thought who gives a damn if all the jobs are gone
I'm gonna be a PIRATE! on the River Saskatchewan!
(ar.. ar.. ar..)
Chorus:
Cause it's a heave-ho! hi-ho!
Coming down the plains
Stealing wheat and barley and all the other grains
And it's a ho-hey! hi-hey!
Farmers bar your doors when you see the Jolly Roger on Regina's mighty shores.
Arr!
Well you think the local farmers would know that I'm at large
But, just the other day I saw an unprotected barge
I snuck up right behind them and they were none the wiser,
I rammed their ship, and sank it, and I stole their fertilizer!
A bridge outside of Moose Jaw spans a mighty river
The farmers pass in so much fear, their stomachs are a-quiver
Because they know that TRACTOR JACK! is hiding in the bay,
I'll jump the bridge and knock them cold and sail off with their hay!
Chorus
Well Mountie Bob he chased me, he was always at my throat
He'd follow on the shoreline 'cause he didn't own a boat
But cutbacks were a-coming and the Mountie lost his job
Now he's sailing with me and we call him Salty Bob.
A swingin' sword, and skull n' bones, and pleasant company
I never pay my income tax and screw the GST- SCREW IT!
Prince Albert down to Saskatoon, I'm the terror of the sea
If ya wanna reach the Co-op, boy, you gotta get by me!
Chorus
Well, pirate life's appealing, but you don't just find it here
I've heard in North Alberta, there's a band of bucaneers
They roam the Athabasca, from Smith to Fort McKay
And you're gonna lose your Stetson if you have to pass their way
Well winter is a-coming and a chill is in the breeze
Our pirate days are over once the river starts to freeze
I'll be back in springtime, but now I 've to go,
I hear there's lots of plundering down in New Mexico!
Chorus
Copyright 1992 The Arrogant Worms All Rights Reserved
The song itself is a lot of fun, especially the Captain Tractor version, for which they filmed a video on West Edmonton Mall's pirate ship. You might be able to find this song in mp3 format somewhere . . . . and there is a Veggietales song called The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. Lots of pirate songs for you today. Two, I guess. I'm sure there are others, though. Maybe one about Space Pirates. And one about Software Pirates. Probably one about pirates who only plunder Fool's Gold- Pyrite Pirates. Hee hee.
Anyways, like I said yesterday, I'm off to do some plundering in Southern Alberta. In a canoe. So poo.
Monday, August 04, 2003
I finished reading Paul Quarrington's The Boy on the Back of the Turtle today. It was alright- interesting in that he was actively searching for God while traveling to the Galapagos Islands (or Encantadas). I won't give it away, whether he found God or not, but joining him on his journey made for an interesting read, even if he took a lot of rabbit trails to get there. It's hard to write an entire book based on a week long holiday, so I guess he had to stretch it out a bit.
I see Jon Krakauer has a new book out- not about mountains, but rather Mormons. Sounds intriguing. Under the Banner of Heaven. He is already getting a lot of flack from the Mormons, which probably means he hit close to home.
Into the Wild is a really good book of his, too. It's a true story about a hitch-hiker who went to Alaska to live in the wild and then he died there. I'm a hitch-hiker, I've been to Alaska a couple times, but I have never died there. Other than that last thing, I have a lot in common with the guy in the book, so maybe that's why I liked it so much.
And finally, I just started reading Galatea 2.2, by Richard Powers, today. By the time I get back from the Hat, I will have it done. You read it too, then we can discuss it just like on Oprah. Ok? Ok.
I see Jon Krakauer has a new book out- not about mountains, but rather Mormons. Sounds intriguing. Under the Banner of Heaven. He is already getting a lot of flack from the Mormons, which probably means he hit close to home.
Into the Wild is a really good book of his, too. It's a true story about a hitch-hiker who went to Alaska to live in the wild and then he died there. I'm a hitch-hiker, I've been to Alaska a couple times, but I have never died there. Other than that last thing, I have a lot in common with the guy in the book, so maybe that's why I liked it so much.
And finally, I just started reading Galatea 2.2, by Richard Powers, today. By the time I get back from the Hat, I will have it done. You read it too, then we can discuss it just like on Oprah. Ok? Ok.
From the North to the South
Tomorrow I am taking my sister to Calgary so she can catch her flight back to Mexico the next morning. From there, I will proceed south to the Medicine Hat area to visit my good friends Cory and Lauren, and meet their new little baby McKenna. A mini-vacation. They live on a farm, and have a canoe, so I am sure there will be much fun to be had. Oodles and poodles of fun.
So poosting may be kind of light for the next few days. Then again, I might be able to write something. You never know. If not, see ya later! You can always pooruse the links to the left, or my other blog if you want some reading material.
Tomorrow I am taking my sister to Calgary so she can catch her flight back to Mexico the next morning. From there, I will proceed south to the Medicine Hat area to visit my good friends Cory and Lauren, and meet their new little baby McKenna. A mini-vacation. They live on a farm, and have a canoe, so I am sure there will be much fun to be had. Oodles and poodles of fun.
So poosting may be kind of light for the next few days. Then again, I might be able to write something. You never know. If not, see ya later! You can always pooruse the links to the left, or my other blog if you want some reading material.
I never mentioned how we ran out of fuel on the way back from Fort McMurray. What a gong show. I noticed the guage reading emptier and emptier, so I pulled over at an Esso and we dipped the tank. Partner thought there was enough to make it to the PetroPass in Fort Saskatchewan (so we could use the company passcard). he was almost right- we rolled to a dead stop about four blocks from the PetroPass. Right by a Tim Hortons, in fact. So we went in, casually bought a drink, and asked a farmer for assistance. He was kind enough to chain our (five-ton) truck to his one ton pickup. I was a little worried about this arrangement, but it worked fine, and he pulled us right to the pump. And we were lucky- we didnt have to prime the injectors, it just started right up and off we went. Total lost time, maybe half an hour.
Sunday, August 03, 2003
Looks like I finally caught a troll. He must be one of the guys who come looking for "pictures of girls or boys pooing" that always shows up on the Google referrals, and was mad to find no porn here. He seems to live in Hell, or something like that. Scary. Makes me want to crawl under a rock and ie.
It would be an easy thing to delete his dropping, but I think I will keep it to remember my pet troll fondly.
Jordon Cooper has had some more serious problems lately with people commenting on his blog.
It would be an easy thing to delete his dropping, but I think I will keep it to remember my pet troll fondly.
Jordon Cooper has had some more serious problems lately with people commenting on his blog.
My dear Mom was kind enough to take my sister and I to Pirates of the Caribbean today. What a great movie! I loved it, the action and the humour, it was just an excellently made movie that did what it set out to do. 0 Poos! I know Katie Kenobi has seen it like 4 times now. I will see it again, too. Some people even clapped at the end of it, which is highly unusual for a movie that has been out for more than a week already.
I still want to see Finding Nemo, Tomb Raider 2 and Charlie's Angels 2, heck, even T3. So many movies, so little time.
I still want to see Finding Nemo, Tomb Raider 2 and Charlie's Angels 2, heck, even T3. So many movies, so little time.
Saturday, August 02, 2003
Today was nice- I didn't do any moving at all. Instead I did some reading (currently The Boy on the Back of the Turtle, I'll say more about it when I'm done- it seems interesting, so far, it's about the Galapagos Islands, and a guy looking for God), watched some movies- Harry Pootter and the Philosopher's Stone and Punch Drunk Love. Later I went out for a walk and saw my local used bookstore owner shooting some hoops, so I joined him for a while. Now I am going to play pooker. A fine day by any stretch of the imagination. The key was no moving.
On the drive back from Fort Mac I saw a whole herd of hay.
Dressed in black they were packed and were running away.
To be main courses for horses was not in their plan
But the Armed Forces' main sources called in the man
A machine gun and a ten ton tank converged on the herd
"Don't dare run and we'll just stun but if you say even one word
We will fire, you'll expire and you'll be food for a bird."
The hay fled, the hay bled and the entire herd died
They lay dead, torn to shreds, but at least they had tried
To be free like a tree standing tall and with pride.
Poohaps the first poem about hay freedom ever. It just sort of happened- I originally just wrote that first sentence intending it to be part of a list of things I saw on the drive, but then I realized that would be boring so I got to rhyming.
Dressed in black they were packed and were running away.
To be main courses for horses was not in their plan
But the Armed Forces' main sources called in the man
A machine gun and a ten ton tank converged on the herd
"Don't dare run and we'll just stun but if you say even one word
We will fire, you'll expire and you'll be food for a bird."
The hay fled, the hay bled and the entire herd died
They lay dead, torn to shreds, but at least they had tried
To be free like a tree standing tall and with pride.
Poohaps the first poem about hay freedom ever. It just sort of happened- I originally just wrote that first sentence intending it to be part of a list of things I saw on the drive, but then I realized that would be boring so I got to rhyming.
In case any of you really care, here are a couple of reviews of the Marilyn Manson concert in Toronto, which was pretty much the same as the one I went to, three weeks ago now. For some reason, the Vanpoover media didn't seem to print any reviews. Oh well. I was there, so I don't really need to read what someone else thought, but it's nice to point you guys to them. A playful Marilyn Manson indeed.
And do any of you ever explore the links I put to the left there? There's some good stuff there. Like Aprilgem's current entry. Very clever.
And do any of you ever explore the links I put to the left there? There's some good stuff there. Like Aprilgem's current entry. Very clever.
Boss called on Wednesday evening and asked me if I could go to Fort Mac (the Oil Capital of Canada, Little Newfoundland, etc.). "Sure," I said, "When?" "Tonight." So off I went, driving the big pig all the way up north to the Fort. I had never been there before so that was cool- kind of a working holiday. We didn't actually get under way till almost 10:00, so it was a late night, and lotsa work the next two days, but it's all over and now to enjoy the long weekend, eh? I have earned a decent weekend, I'll tell you that much. We did three moves yesterday, one of which was from a third floor walkup to a fourth floor walkup! In 34 degree weather, no less. And they had a treadmill. You would think going almost 500 kms north would cause a drop in temperature, but no such luck. Today we had another fourth floor walkup to do, but at least she started off in storage so that was relatively quick. Still brutal, but doable, I guess. My partner told me the Mover's Motto today, "Sober or drunk we'll move your junk!" He was perhaps a touch of the latter today. Or at least, still feeling the effects of the night before.
One cool thing, though, was in between moves yesterday, we went to a little water park by the river and ran under the sprinklers and stuff, with all the little kids. Umm, I guess that's about it. Just thought I'd let you know I wasn't dead or in hibernation or something.
Oh yeah, today at supper, my partner asked me to remind him to take a poo before we left. He does not know about the Woods, so I thought that was funny.
I forgot to remind him, though.
One cool thing, though, was in between moves yesterday, we went to a little water park by the river and ran under the sprinklers and stuff, with all the little kids. Umm, I guess that's about it. Just thought I'd let you know I wasn't dead or in hibernation or something.
Oh yeah, today at supper, my partner asked me to remind him to take a poo before we left. He does not know about the Woods, so I thought that was funny.
I forgot to remind him, though.
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