Didn’t make the Fetish Ball; my unindicted co-conspirators bailed due to illness. Frankly I was in collapsing mode myself – I think I was in bed by 8:30 last night.
My happy family illusion has been shattered, for reasons I won’t post, but one may infer what one likes from Katie not having slept here last night. I have already devised an appropriate punishment; it will require tremendous restraint and diplomacy on my part to make it effective, but the results will be worth it, if only for the grace that self-discipline brings.
Off today to church for the blessing of the animals. Although I will be striking myself from the church rolls as of New Years’ I will continue to support the church financially, mostly because after the sodding hard work of the search committee it would be a shame to lose Rev Katie. Also, I was due to open and close the church for the entire month of November, and so, and so, I will, because it’s a bear of a job, really it is, and one of my fave people at the church got stuck with doing twice as much opening and closing as she was supposed to (when her hubby was sick and she was antsy (justifiably so) about leaving him) and I can’t stand the idea of sticking somebody else with it since I just loathe doing it myself. See, the church doesn’t have its own building. We’re camped out at Place Maillardville, which is financially very easy to take but means that we don’t get taken SERIOUSLY. We don’t have a big spire with a revolving purple question mark, you see, so we don’t have visibility.
Saw my first misty blue aircraft parked out front the Air Canada hangar today. It’s pearlescent paint, just to add to the hardness to repair and expense of it all. It would be beautiful… if I couldn’t see it for what it is. Honestly, who comes up with this stuff? ARE they doing it so I can make fun of it, and WHEN will they stop? I’m running out of politely cruel comments, and my adoring public doesn’t seem to like it when I’m scatalogical. I read the review in the G&M review of books of yesterday of Robert Milton’s monomaniacally self-serving screed… it was praised. Very praised. And I will get it out of the library and read it, partly because I need something to prop up my blood pressure, and partly because I want to see if the ghostwriters were worth it. Paul just sighed when I told him about it. I think he’s at the load line for Robert Milton anything right about now.
Committed labour unrest last week, again, but this time properly. I got an email from my adopted younger brother Jerome (him what I took to my mother and said, “I stand in sibling relationship to this man, please bless him”) and hooked up a buddy of his who was recently laid off from “an interesting high tech start up here in Vancouver” with the hiring authority inside the company, neatly bypassing our …. um…. how do I put this accurately but kindly…. VERY BUSY HR department. That covers it without blowing my cover, if you know what I mean. Hope he gets hired. He owes me a beer if he does. And so does a certain program manager, come to think of it. I know I don’t talk about work much, but I felt this was a mild enough anecdote to share. God knows I don’t want to share the latest REAL piece of humour out of the office. One of these days… hey Glen, you reading this? One of these days my webmeister will pound some new ways of having a blog into my head and I’ll have a private area, members only, where the deserving and the undeserving alike, and all those who have ever bought me beer, will be able to view the pictures that I dare not publicly post, like the photoshopped company sign which is a freaking MASTERPIECE. You, know the kind where people look at it, howl laughing and then say, frowning, Some people have WAY too much free time. And I’ll post all my routines there, and all the naked pictures of me. It’ll be swell. No, not RECENT naked pictures. The art shots, the black and white pix, I had taken when I was 21. I can only think of two people who might conceivably be interested in recent naked pictures of me, and they can just ASK me if they want to see them, since they live in Vancouver. I know at least one person who’s going to ask me NOT to give him the password… you know who you are.
Had to scrape a very thick layer of frost off the car this am. Very glad I got Keith to harvest old smiley face for me yesterday. You have to admit, that’s one cute punkin. The colour is actually a very saturated yellow – it’s a heritage pumpkin, designed to be eaten and not carved, so the flesh is about 8 centimetres thick. I held the knife up and said, Oh Pumpkin Carving Spirits, guide my knife. Look what happened! Anyway, when I finished with this pumpkin, I was irresistably reminded of my brother Jeff, and I can’t for the life of me think why. It just reminds me of him. It doesn’t look like him at all – Jeff has a much nicer complexion, for starters – but something about the expression is just, I don’t know, Jeff like. Maybe my mother will explain it to me.
Shooooot, gotta get cookies out of oven. Okay, next batch is in. Yup, this batch is for coffee after church. Chocolate chip pecan cookies….. perfectly cooked. That lovely crunchy, about two minutes before they start to burn doneness. The pecans exploding with crunchy nutty goodness. The premium grade dark chocolate chips. REAL BUTTER. Yes indeed. Can’t you feel your arteries clogging? You know you can.