2013, don’t let the door hit you

It wasn’t the worst year of my life because I have more emotional resources than I used to.  I think, after its long absence from my house, alcohol is going to make a reappearance.  I think beer – it’s been too long since I had some Lion Winter – and some Jim Beam, so I have something in the house for when Justified comes back next month.

I will be praying for the Canadian Olympic athletes and officials as they to and fro from Sochi.  There are going to be some damned big explosions in Russia in February, and the whole world will be watching.  They won’t happen in Sochi itself, likely, as the security will be a leaden and oppressive blanket.  But I pity the rail and airline passengers – it’s going to be a mess.  The suicide bombings are already well under way, and although it isn’t well known yet, there’s a lot of missing explosives in Russia, something like 2000 short tons.  It’s not C4, but it’s certainly enough to make hash of a lot of civilians.

Time for Lumosity and some shoulder exercises.  Sleep has been conspicuous by its absence.

My Yellow Cab review

On December 24, 2013 at around 9:30 in the morning, Driver 10 picked me up from the stand at Granville and Georgia. I gave him the address and he didn’t know where it was. He HANDED ME HIS PHONE TO TYPE THE ADDRESS INTO THE GPS. With a rising sense of WTF, I did so. Then he proceeded to drive down the street looking at his phone. By the time we got to the bridge I was frantic. I told him, first in a calm voice, and then in my ‘yelling at the kids voice’, “What you are doing is unsafe and illegal. Please pull over, confirm your route, and continue.” I must have said this four times. He told me I didn’t have any Christmas spirit, and I repeated my request. Yes, I was yelling, but that’s what you do when somebody is being unsafe and thinking it’s okay.

He said, “Get out of my ****** cab you *****.” He stopped the cab and I got out. Another cab driver from another company appeared out of nowhere and got me safely to my destination, all the while apologizing, as if it was his fault somehow.

Under normal circumstances I would wait for a call back from the Manager, but I left an urgent message that day and another this morning, and the Vancouver Taxi Association complaint line voicemail is full (wonder why, snicker). I’ve been taking cabs in this town for almost 20 years and I’ve never experienced anything like this. The driver was not safe to drive, and should be disciplined at the very least. Something tells me nothing will come of this, but at least I have warned others.

I love Marilyn’s services…

This morning we walked around the darkened sanctuary with candles, while Marylke played her recorder.  It was absolutely lovely, and the text was Gratitude as Light, so it worked out nicely.  The youth will be handing out socks and sandwiches at New Years on the DTES and that was what the collection was for.

Hazards of going deaf…. At coffee afterwards one of my cocongs was talking about how all of her senses awakened when she was listening to live classical music, so that she was almost overcome and I said, “If you pee your pants you’re on your own” which is actually a classic family history line (back to Amedeo Garden Court days).  Everybody else at the table thought I said, “If you Peter Pan, you’re on your own.”  This is what they repeated back to me.  About this time the woman realized what I had ACTUALLY said, and started to laugh, and everybody else told me what they THOUGHT I had said, at which point we were pretty much both reduced to spluttering incoherence. When we calmed down we explained the joke, at which point everybody ELSE laughed.

Dennis recited Invictus during the service.  Jean and I both memorized it when we were puppies so we recited along but silently, because only a fool would talk overtop of Dennis when he is in full spate and mess up that theatrical voice.  I love Dennis to bits, even though he has to get right up next to me to tell who I am these days. I interviewed him for an I’m Not Dead Yet ceremony a few years back.  He really is the most delightful old man; so full of joie de vivre and simple appreciation for people and art.  I couldn’t hope to be as cheerful as he.

The work continues.  I sure hope I sleep better tonight.  I’ve been dreaming, and having nightmares.  I just don’t DO nightmares so it’s always a horrible surprise. Jeff’s been dreaming like mad too.

May you find what you seek

In some cultures, that’s considered a curse.  Anyway, to the point; I am looking up stuff on Afghanistan and Persia (now Iran) because I am following information about Rumi.  Accidentally I land on the wikipedia page of the anti-Rumi, which contains a bunch of 14th Century dirty jokes.  They are at the bottom of the page, you’ve been warned, etc.  One of the jokes is so disgusting it could cheerfully be used by people who hate Muslims as propaganda.

We are watching Ken Burn’s Jazz, and it is uniformly excellent.  I wish I could have watched it with John, too.

Off to the library today.  I have a couple of other errands to run.

My request to have assistance in developing anti-racism curriculum is in the newsletter for church.

I can only wonder what my uncle, who got a PhD in Fluorine Chemistry, would make of this website mocking PhD subjects.

Loki lowkey Christmas

Showed the shop on Christmas day AND Boxing day.  It will be a Syncretic Agnostic Festive Miracle if I sell the place, but I’m okay with what happens.  Everything changes. Failure hasn’t killed me yet.

As part of our Syncretic Agnostic Festive Season, we acquired Chinese Food, watched documentaries and SGA, and bought zero presents, sent zero cards.  I did go to a Christmas Eve service which was about the advent and deliverance of joy, love, peace and hope, framed by the story of the Christ child and Mary.  (Joseph always gets left out… I’m gonna make a sermon for him some day).

One of the best things about filk is that if you change the lyrics to be less sexist nobody will comment.  I say this looking at Uplift, a wonderful song written in 1999, but it contains Mankind.  I will sing it as Humans.  All will be well.

I’ve already blasted through the second hand book Tammy gave me for Christmas.  It’s called The Forty Rules of Love, and I cried BUCKETS while I was reading it, but it is about the love between Rumi and Shams of Tabriz, and it is a very wonderful and sad story.  In the end, Rumi is a poet, but everyone around him paid a high price for it.

Poetry doesn’t come from nowhere; for me it is language reaching through my emotions to a page; to the release and abandonment of expressing a feeling in the most charged and delicate way possible.  Poetry is like the sprite that forms above a massive thunderstorm.  So brief, so beautiful, and invisible unless you are looking RIGHT AT IT when it happens. She who has not seen will say it doesn’t exist.  She who has seen will pummel words and rhythms, grasp at floating down, weave spider silk and daydreams, stare at bones, bond with discards, trace the impression of a car tire in tar, build launching pads of paper and foil. Her dissatisfaction is the human eternal, embroidered with a great ‘Ah!”

Lumosity, mando practice, paperwork.  That is at least part of my day.

Full lyrics for Kick your Door Down (Burn Notice filk)

( Burn Notice Filk)
That Michael Westen is a pain in the ass
Thinks he’s a hero and his friends are no better
Oliver Peoples with the shatterproof glass
Fi’s drowning so he’s gotta go and get her

Average day, situation normal
Enemies smile and loved ones frown
Don’t need to be very formal
They’re gonna come back and kick your door down

Sam comes hard with the rolling guns and ammo
Michael doesn’t think his tactics are sound
Time’s up! Package goes blammo!
They’re gonna come back and kick your door down

Misdirection suited in Armani
Someone in the alley just chambered a round
Time’s up! It’s not our money
Gonna come back and kick the door down

Amateurs tend to get excited
When Fi makes a splash in a slinky gown
More than one kind of fuse gets ignited
and they’re gonna come back and kick the door down

Set list

Everything went fine at rehearsal in the morning… but when I went to Tom and Peggy’s for tea, treats and a run through of my set list after supper yesterday, this is what I found out.

I do have performance anxiety, and I performed considerably worse in front of people taking pictures of me that I do in in my rehearsal space.

My voice RISES THREE SEMI TONES between 7 am and 7 pm.  Songs I can sing with no difficulty in the morning I cannot sing at night.  This is VERY PROBLEMATIC, especially since Otto capos up about as well as I twerk.

I may have to rethink having the lyric and lead sheets on stage.  In my urge to appear ‘professional’ I may lose the ability to get through a song without stumbling.  Or, I could, like, practice more every day.

Anyway, it’s all food for thought, so I am ruminating.

Looking for work – this got barfed up on my screen.

File not found: /information_systems/current_openings.cfm


  • Enable Robust Exception Information to provide greater detail about the source of errors. In the Administrator, click Debugging & Logging > Debug Output Settings, and select the Robust Exception Information option.
  • Check the ColdFusion documentation to verify that you are using the correct syntax.
  • Search the Knowledge Base to find a solution to your problem.
Browser   REDACTED
Remote Address   REDACTED
Referrer   http://www.mdacorporation.com/information_systems/careers_new.cfm
Date/Time   23-Dec-13 09:33 AM

Church today was great

A good service, enlivened by Rev Deb’s inclusion of both Thomas King and George Carlin.  Plus, Beatles, and Dark of Winter, my favourite hymn as sung by the choir.  Paul, bless him, is back from his gig in Seattle and gave me a lift to and likewise fro. I sent him forth with chicken breast for sandwiches, my homemade pickled beets (which he adores) and a frozen soup by way of thanks (also he gave me one of his very chiropractic hugs, which by damn I needed!)

Wrote about 750 words on Midnite Moving today.

Practiced HARD this morning.  It’s getting close!

Found Keith’s 300$ sunglasses in the couch downstairs.  Phoned him immediately and was he glad!

No walkies today.  Still a bit nasty underfoot out there.  Not like Toronto, though, it’s a freaking mess there.

A*****e McF*****t stood me up for the meet at the shop.  Sorry, I’m not in the mood to be charitable.  Jeff knows the whole tale and concurs.

Totally took down some asshat on twitter going on about vaccination.  The article he linked to said that vaccinations have something to do with infant mortality in the US.  ( well they do, just not negatively). The high infant mortality rate in the US has more to do with institutionalized racism and unevenly distributed prenatal care than vaccination, and anybody who says different doesn’t know a FUCKING THING about epidemiology, obstetrics, and forty years of data drawing a line between race and good — or poor — health outcomes.  Given that the twitter account is ostensibly an anti racism media site, I unloaded very hard.  I do not want persons of colour to put their kids at risk believing this bullshit because ‘da man’ makes bad vaccines.  HEAVY HEAVY SIGH.

As a palate cleanser….Cute temporary tattoos!

Off to show the shop and fetch some library books

Today I rehearsed for an hour, including patter, did a chunk of my physio exercises, gave myself a facial and a nice long shower, and now to do other Useful Things.

Stay safe in the snow!  There have been two fatal accidents along Canada Way in the last two weeks, although excessive speed mixed with heaping handfuls of stupid probably had more to do with it than weather.

My day so far

waking at 2 am and doing my Lumosity training for the day.

stooging around on the internet for a couple of hours, making myself a brie sandwich and some tea, going back to bed, passing out again

realizing I have to motor into the shop and show it to Bill and André.  I did.  I also cleaned a bunch of stuff while I was there

on the way out seeing two crows eating a dead rat in the lane way

repelled by this visual (I yelled “Back to work, boys!” on the way by) I solaced myself with 6 dollar jammies at Value Village, which isn’t going  to be there much longer anyway because of this

on the way back from VV I got cat litter, catnip in a Christmas bag (that was free) and more kitty treats for Margot, who liked both gifts a lot (she is mildly concerned about Eddie, who’s having his second overnight at the pet hospital – an infection probably and he’s dehydrated).

quit facebook, again, this time I hope permanently

was followed on twitter by a FN author, and when I went to look up his site Chrome told me it was laced with malware