I am either a) no longer crazy b) seeing an incompetent psychologist or c) broke. My folks gave me money to go see a counsellor, and providentially I ran out of cake about the time the psychologist pronounced me in markedly better shape than when I showed up in February. I’d like to thank LTGW for getting me the referral, Peggy and the krewe at church for being the soul of lovingkindness, Jeff, folks and kinder for being supportive, sometimes rather more pointedly than I’d like, but whatever. I’ve got Tony’s number and I will definitely go see him if I start going off the skids again. In the meantime, nothing can touch me, for yea, though I walk through the valley of piles of paperwork, I shall fear no angry customers, for the Buzz is with me, and He Fucking Shreds.
Category: Family
Why I think Jeff is a genius
Jeff’s tenancy with me has consisted in part of him going away and thinking for a spell when I say things like “Why can’t we have the internet on the big screen?” and “We have to many fucking remotes; when you go out of town I can’t even reliably turn the TV on; can you fix that?” mostly to prevent himself from saying something mean to me about how I’m too dumb to understand the two page instruction set he laboriously wrote, AND updated at least twice. Jeff produces good documentation and I am dumb as a brick; these two facts are incontrovertable. With respect to the “Why can’t we have the internet on the big screen?” question he had to do a ton of stuff and set up another computer to make it happen. SO I get to go skipping through life asking why things don’t happen to my liking and he gets to spend hours of challenging labour AND money making it happen. I don’t know which is worse, that I keep thinking I can get away with it, or that he just quietly goes away and does it without presenting me with an itemized bill. On the other hand, I do cook around here.
His latest act of genius has been to bow to the inevitable. I am indeed TOO STUPID to handle more than one remote, but universal remotes almost universally suck. After lengthy study of the problem, he purchased a universal remote and then spent a goodly number of hours programming it to withstand the depredations not only of myself but of my son, who can be a complete ass when borrowing media. Sorry son, it’s true. Of course if you get hit by a car I’m going to regret this, just like I regretted my daily description of cleaning John’s apartment when he moved out immediately after he got killed in an accident, but I don’t go back and oubliette that shit because that’s just lame. I would rather be complicated, messy and inconsistent, because, er, that’s how I am…. But the truth keeps on being the truth even when you could have picked a better moment for the reveal.
Jeff has not only programmed the remote so I can do whatever I want to do with the tv and the Xbox and the monitor, he’s SET THE AVERAGE AUDIO LEVELS. So if you’re going back and forth between media you don’t get blown out of your seat if you land in the middle of a tv commercial. That, friends, is true genius. And he’s always finding new ways to tweak the remote. Go tech!
Today is Mother’s Day. I’m opening at church (and if I’m not, I’ll help….) and then assisting with a Mother’s Day tea. I decided I couldn’t deal with making soup so I baked a whole salmon and made cinnamon buns. Jeff doesn’t know I plan on making more, but I do; it’s mean to fill the house with the supercharged smell of home baking and then say oops, you can’t have any. (Actually I let him eat a couple: “I have good news and bad news. These are the best cinnamon buns I ever made, and the rest are going to church.”)
Yesterday I did laundry and played Buzz ALL DAY. I do not play Buzz every day, but I had four separate guitar playing sessions yesterday and I LOVE HOW THAT GUITAR SOUNDS OMG OMNOMNOM. Also yesterday watched chunks of Canucks game and laughed at Margot for watching Nascar again. She really likes Darlington, and why not. My shopping trip yesterday consisted of propane and guitar strings, because the g string ALWAYS breaks on a 12 string; I bought two whole sets and spares. I talked to Neil Douglas about effects pedals and he laughed and asked me why I’d bother. I s’pose.
I managed to cut the grass last weekend but I have no fucking clue when I’ll get to do it again because the sky continues to dump precip at an unholy and quite soggy-making rate.
After church, the Horde will descend and I am hoping to barbecue some MORE salmon.
Did I mention that I think my brother is a genius?
Impossibilium ain’t just a song
Canadian scientists plus international cooperation FOR THE WIN.
Hmph. Listening to “The Future’s so Bright I Gotta Wear Shades” on a day like today on the way in…. wrongness, somehowerother.
Lovely time re chicken dinner at the ‘Villeans last night and then singing filk and other stuff. I HEART HEART HEART that 12 string of Tom’s and Peggy expressed surprise that I can actually play a 12 string now. Didn’t mention that my left fumb now feels crabby.
Peter A at work has come back from another vacay with his lady wife, and once again they have brought me a tshirt, this time a flaming dragon from Tintagel. This word will set off a long happy sigh in my parental units….
Mike got a phone interview. He has passed the first gate… will he slay the dragon?
I KNOW TWO PEOPLE IN PERSON who have been omnominated for Hugos. Ay!
In The Correction news…. Aughh.
Sad cats are sad
Both of the cats are wandering around the house crying because “Daddy’s not here” (Jeff’s visiting on the Island). Margot was so upset that Daddy wasn’t here for her to wake up at 4:30 in the morning, she came into my room and started attempting to destroy things. I said “Shoo!” and “Scat!” (as in feces) but all she did was stare at me with the stare that indicates every functioning neuron in her head is currently dedicated to keeping her eyes open, but that no other brain activity or anything one could call consciousness was otherwise employed.
As I mentioned in my comment, Yunte wrote me back, which was very decent of him. I had mentioned to him that when pOp sent me the Charlie Chan movies on DVD I couldn’t bring myself to watch them as I’d drunk the Koolaid on them being racist garbage; as I said to him “I can now watch them with more nuance and less angst”. Still not happy that Chan was played by white guys (except for the first two movies) but I can at least appreciate that they are entertaining movies now. I think it’s great that my filial piety prevented me from throwing them out.
At some point today Katie and I and Keith and Mike and Rozo are going to brave the nipply weather of April and head to the beach. Top down (da na na na na na!) in the sun (da na na na na na!) I was thinking of taking a musical instrument, but given a choice between hauling sammitches down those effin’ stairs and something la di da like a mandolin, I’ll go for the eats. Katie is NOT living with Daxus so my unconditional love faucet got turned back on. Keith had his friend Chris over here last night. They played Portal 2 and ate leftover spaghetti. I was sorry to miss Chris as I quite like him; I’m thrilled that Keith has an intelligent, kind hearted friend.
I washed one of mOm’s quilts and it’s hanging on the line now. I also did a compost run The most immense pillbugs in Canada (latin name the ENTIRELY CHARMING Armadillidium vulgare) are currently noshing on my coffee grounds. That would be my late Earth day news.
Heard from Paul. Work has started on Lois and Bobby’s flooded buildings. He called from the ‘Hat about an hour ago sounding like he wanted to do something family tomorrow. When I mentioned the beach he groaned from pure jealousy.
Night before last, out drinking with the old Stat gang, and IHTA (It Had The Awesome). Last night, Lost in Yonkers at the Langley Playhouse with Tom, Peggy, Rev Katie, Al, Joan, Ev, Gary, Elva AND the choir director Marnie and her daughter. As I mentioned on facebook half the church was in the audience. Sue Sparlin was really good as the ferocious Cherman Grandmuzzer.
I look back on the beginning of February like somebody who had a bad dream, the effects of which still linger. Did I really want to kill myself???? What’s up with that? You know, I’m blaming it on February, because February in Canada sucks, and February in Vancouver, as I can say from personal experience, makes ya wanna die. And then when the sun comes out you’re thinking…. oops.
I heart Tom and Peggy. Right now I am really appreciating what lovely, talented, hospitable, intelligent and forward thinking people they are. Also, they are newly minted grandparents, and I swear Peggy is leaving little curly trails of multi-colored stars when she talks these days. Tom’s grouch factor is only barely moving the meter since the Bean arrived.
Katie came and got at least part of her stuff last night.
She spoke to neither Jeff nor myself, but I was on the phone with my mOm so I handed the phone over and once she was done talking she loaded up and left. I got my key back and gave her back her household key.
I am not going to go into details about the unpleasantness while she was here – some of which she’s unaware of, poor girl – but I will say that I told Jeff that I value my peaceful household with him. I wish I could trust my own daughter. I wish her happiness and good fortune; all of mine is unearned, perhaps hers will be too.
Safely ensconced in Victoria
There were EIGHT turtles on a log in Deer Lake Park yesterday. My last record was 5, so I guess this a really super duper wonderful spring. The cherries have started blooming everywhere and my eyes are watering, so there you go.
I have reached 15000000 points in Peggle. Yes, I have taken my first step into a larger world and bought my very first Xbox game. I got it for Plants vs Zombies but I really like Peggle. I’ll check out Zuma later.
Jeff bought a universal remote after I WHINED, and wheezed, and complained, and kvetched, and grumbled. He’s just about finished programming it and IT ROCKS. I can do just about everything now, and if I screw up I just hit the power button and start from scratch. Oh Jeff you is so good to me!
I have now eaten Schnitzel three days running, because I brung schnitzel to my ma n pa’s house and cooked it up for them and they were happy with the Om Nom Noms.
I gave my mOm a Unitarian hymnbook. Any hymnbook that has Die Gedanken Sind Frei in it can’t be all bad.
Also CDs of two of my services, Garbage and the Seven Deadly Sins.
My next homily will be “I had a Comrade” and it will be on May 29th. Be there or you know, be elsewhere.
The Restorative Justice regarding John went well according to those who have talked to us about it.
Now I’m going to jump in the car and go git me some beer and then I’m going to come back here and watch the Weaver’s farewell concert, or something fun and musical and not at all depressing like everything that seems to happen outside these walls.
Oh, and pOp got me a network cable so I’m blogging from the sunroom. THAT, friends and neighbours, is LOOOXury!
Too bad
I WISH I could talk about work in detail. There was a communiqué from Finance yesterday that managed to combine Kafka, Jacques Tati and General Nivelle in its spirit, tone and usefulness. The originator will be receiving one of Allegra’s Famous Emailsâ„¢. Since that about covers it without being too specific or blaming individuals, I’ll let that one go out into the world unchallenged.
Last night Jeff and I had purple potatoes, steamed carrots and onions, and the leftover pork chops. The purple taters were so om nom nom. I will do them mashed sometime for fun.
After supper we watched Capitalism, A Love Story which had the usual annoying Michael Moore tics (I prefer people with some dignity so I always hate it when he lets people cry on camera, but that’s me being a frikkin WASP there darlin’) but was otherwise very well done, and if I disliked the crony politicians of the Reagan, Clinton and Bush eras I loathe them now. The scale of the plunder that has occurred and the short sightedness of it all disgust me to my core. However, a collapse at this point is inevitable, and Canada and many other places will get dragged into the maelstrom, so everybody learn to grow food.
After the movie, I dragged myself out to the Puddleâ„¢, where Paul, Keith and Katie were also swimming and soaking. It was very nice to hang around with them. I didn’t actually swim, I just gave my back some relief from the horrors of being attached to me for a while. Then I came home and slept until 6:03 in the morning, which is like a frikkin’ miracle.
Also, I finished a song in Songwriter (Walk Away)… the one that goes I have tried to walk away, but my thoughts will not wear shoes, I would pity my poor mind, if I had a mind to lose (which I wrote last summer but seems very apt these days).
I don’t know if any of the foregoing constitutes staying busy or not. When I see what other people accomplish I feel pretty slow. Anyway, to horse! I need to get into work and flatten some paper.
Why it’s been bally ages since I posted a decent moose pic
I just had a giggly notion to google Moose Porn but I don’t want to see cheerful and inebriated white people in moose headdresses having at each other (for, brethren and sistern, think ye not that would be my portion in so googling?), so instead you can have this perfectly safe for work newspaper article courtesy of Cousin Gerald.
While you were looking at the safe moose pic, I went off and googled Moose Porn. Now I can say, “Oh god, I’ve just seen a cam pic of a moose’s ass in rut.” I told myself don’t go there, and I went there, and I’m sorry, and that’s how I know I’m not old yet, I keep doing entirely dumbass shit like that.
Pork chops with a crust of hazelnuts, dijon mustard, maple syrup, salt and pepper, lightly broiled, with nuked red potatoes and corn for supper.
Tonight I said, “Colin Ferrell’s accent when he’s not acting sounds like he’s trying to barf up the Blarney Stone.”
Butterflies
We arrived safe in Victoria yesterday afternoon and repaired to the home of my folks with Katie in tow. We have today been for a drive in the remarkably snowy back roads and we have also visited the Butterfly House and I hope to post pics after I get home. I figured out how to get butterflies to sit on me, and entertained a number of small children with my new knowledge. Might come in handy if I ever have grandchildren, sigh.
Yesterday I inspected baby Bean, Lady Miss Banjola’s offspring, who’s two months old more or less. He meets all criteria for cute and normal; being who he is he could hardly miss the cute, but the normal is almost worrisome. Katie got to cuddle him for a bit, and Lady Miss B stuffed him into his knitted yellow duck feet, which are squee-renderingly adorable.
I am looking at the facsimile of the journal of my great great grandfather Henry Thomas Wake. There has been a terrible railway accident, 15 dead, and I am very very happy to see that my ancestor spent money on beer.
Having a lovely time. Also, saw this, and loved it, highly recommended.
pics
unusual sky
I love this tenant list…..
Yummy Thai, family & friends
I’d give you a profile if I had one, Mr Elam!
Grumpus McLumpus iz mir
He is foremost among those I would hear praised.
I know that Jeff is one of the most honest, hard-working people I know. He loafs and lazes with a will (and generally with lots of help from me), but when he’s set himself to a task he’s committed, dedicated, focused and determined to get results. He will hold his tongue rather than tell a lie; he’s aware of his cognitive biases and doesn’t pretend to be perfect in his pursuit of truth, justice and being let the fuck alone.
I understand that the world is made of in-groups, and that it doesn’t matter what you can do, or how smart or logical or disciplined or calm you are, if you’re not a member of that in-group you will not be trusted and your motives will always be suspect. I am upset to be watching my brother, whom I trust with my life, who wouldn’t pick up a nickel that wasn’t his whether or not somebody was watching, whose ethics and personal standards are of the highest calibre, get treated like he’s untrustworthy. I’m prejudiced – but of course! – but that doesn’t make me wrong.
Momz shopping kart
I emerged from the psychologist’s office with a powerful urge to spend money, (subtext “She’s on the mend!”) so I bought an extremely simple shirt pattern and some nice cotton fabric on sale (a musical print, a soft cigar coloured paisley for an awrence (only my mother will get this reference, but ç’est la vie) and a LOUD fish print, which is probably going to make small children poke me in the boob and say “I see Nemo! Oh look anudder Nemo!” I also bought a very very loud 18 inch purple cotton scrap, usually used for quilting but I’m going to repurpose the fabric as handkerchiefs, also notions, tired of having crappy thread.
Margot just got some catnip. After her hunting escapades this morning she’s as excitable and fluttery as all get out; just now she was attacking thin air and then slowly coming to terms with there not actually being anything in the air she just attacked. I think she’s all tuckered out now, I can hear her snore-breathing and her eyes are just barely open. She must have been so happy Eddie brought her a live toy; after he had played with it for a while and gotten her into the swing of things, he left her alone with the mouse.
After the psychologist, I poked my head in at Katie’s; I took her out for dimsum, brought her back here for job applyin’, drove all the way out to her place again for Stuporstore; dropped her and her groceries off, and drove home. Gas situation = must get gas tomorrow; right now putting groceries away is leaving me all tired.
It’s fun going shopping with Katie; how else would I find out that her glasses, which she had when she moved out, have vanished, and now must be replaced.
But for all that, I just don’t feel like I want to own a car anymore. It was really fun for a while, but I’ve learned my lesson. It’s not OWNING a car that I want. It’s access when I want it. I still have a co-op car ticket and I’ll run up to Highgate or over to Edmunds Stn when I want a car, or borrow Jeff’s if he’ll let me.
One of Paul’s neighbour’s really likes Probes, so I’ll run it by her first and see if there’s any interest; if not I’ll stick it on Craigslist once the office has moved, inshallah.
Most mornings I awaken
to the sound of Jeff tapping on his keyboard. Sometimes it’s a cat and that staccato defooding sound in some very long-to-be-discovered corner. Sometimes it’s the smell of a skunk penetrating through the window; sometimes it’s my natural clock, which spits me back out into consciousness anywhere between 2 and 7 am. Sometimes it’s a leg cramp, and that’s what I got this morning. I woke to pain pain pain and had a hell of a time getting my foot flat to the ground to get the muscle stretched out and the muscle – the same one I blew out running for the bus the year after I hurt my back – is still grumbling and hot. Ah, but pain is what tells you that you’re alive.
Daughter Katie came over last night. I picked her up after work (Dax tried to scare me by materializing next to my car window, but Katie had the kindness to warn me, so I let him know that he WOULD have given me a heart attack if I hadn’t been warned. He also told me the size of his paycheck, which was respectable for his age and educational level) and then fed her and Jeff home baked schnitzel and veg, and we talked and watched CSI and the Mentalist, which amusingly enough had identical plots, and then we walked up to 7-11 where I got her bus tickets and milk and eggs for myself, waited with her for her bus and then walked home. Canada Way is so noisy for pedestrians it’s practically deafening; two streets in Jeff and I enjoy a very peaceful little enclave, no barking dogs or noisy neighbours, and yet we’re smack in the center of Edmonds, 10th, Kingsway and Canada Way, all busy arterial streets. We do get train noise at night as it echoes in the Fraser Valley and comes up the hill; we get the eerie booming noises at night that are actually special effects explosions down in that movie set off of Marine down in the flats; and we get airplane noise a fair bit, although rarely at very low levels, and hardly ever helicopter noise, which scares the crap out of me.
Soon there will be a visit by the rest of Paul’s family to abide for a while in the bosom of the alternative justice system of BC. I have decided that with all my quirks and drama I’m best off staying away. My mother is hosting them and that will be the right end of the family to shelter and help them while this goes on; who can say what will happen but I earnestly hope for some closure and a feeling that it’s what John would have wanted rather than a trial and jail for the woman whose inattentive driving killed him.
I am very seriously thinking of either giving Ziva to a family member or selling her. I have taken so much pleasure in owning her that it may seem a little odd, but if I’m going to be that close to the new location of the office and I can still borrow Jeff’s car occasionally to shop, I should be in good shape to have enjoyed her and then released her back into the wild. Neither of the kids have evinced much interest because they don’t really have the cash flow.
I am waiting for Jeff to awaken so I can cook him breakfast. Finn pancakes and coffee; I’m going to have mine with applewood smoked cheddar.
I have shippiles of work to do today; I have Valentines to create. I am planning on sneaking into work on Sunday after church and putting them in people’s mail trays. Every year it’s the same thing. People are travelling, or they never check their mail trays, and the next thing you know you’re getting thanked for the Valentine on March 1st.
I brought home the flowers Jeff and the folks gave me and they are still gorgeous and sweetly scented. I know cut flowers are frowned on by some people in my connection, but I will never frown. Their colour and scent brightened my work area and made many other people happy but me for the balance of the week, and now they’ll be pretty in my kitchen until they’re done.
I send a hug into the ether for Lady Miss B and warm wishes to her hub and miniB, and a big old mushy group hug for Tom and Peggy, my folks and brother (nearly typed bother, and that was NOT my intent), Scott for digging up the name of the psychologist for me, my coworkers Mike Y and Hassan and Kev and Patricia, and I blow kisses at Veronica. Sneetchy scowling at some other folks for workpain, but I won’t name them. More hugs for Rev. Katie who visited me in sickness and hell that’s what ministers are s’posed to do, and Sue, Carol, Kathleen and Gary for a really good board meeting. I wish the contractors working on the new building the time, money and safety to do a good job.
I wish a lot of things. It’s strange to think that this time last week I wished for nothing but cessation of wishing.
Life is good. I’m going to go work on Dandelions Dreaming now, it’s the best thing I can think of for Peggy’s birthday. Later today I’m going to talk to Jeff about capturing video from games so I can do something really kickass for Left4Dead/Rising in a Zombieland Redemption, which is the new and deliberately awkward title for my zombie choon, and it may get even longer, at which point I’ll shorten it again. Such is the creative process; you put your best shit in, you take you best shit out, you put your best shit in, and you shake it all about.
Happy sigh for meals with friends
Man when the hell did I get old enough to have a friend for 45 years? C’est bizarre, ça.
Anyway, Bonnie has a few grey hairs and perhaps her smile lines are a little more chiselled than I remember, but she is STILL BONNIE, the petite and energetic and outdoorsy and powerfully intelligent friend of my childhood who looks at least 15 years younger than her lying ass birth certificate, and she is a happy person to be around.
We watched pictures of John on the laptop and Bonnie brought a photo album which had pictures of her mom and John and various rellies in happier times. I took some pics but I won’t post them without permission.
The Royal City Thai restaurant is assenkicken. They must get by on the lunch trade, the joint was deserted the entire time we were there but the food was nothing short of spectacular. It was $130 with tax and tip for five hungry adults, there was about one meal’s worth of leftovers, and there was alcohol too… gosh the soup was stellar. Service stellar too. Attentive without being pestery. A find, I must say.
Keith and Kate both came AND I AM SO HAPPY about a) Paul suggesting it and b) how happy Bonnie was to see them and vice versa. Katie got to see the only surviving picture of John on a skateboard. I said to her afterwards that alone was worth the price of admission. Who’da thunk it? Gave Katie and Keith rides home. Jeff’s subpar and didn’t attend but there’s a whole host of gut wrenching bacteria writhing around the GVRD these days; I hope they don’t sink their little pseudopods into him too far.
Ziva is burning lots of oil. I should check levels before setting out tomorrow, and I’m probably looking at engine work. Jeebus, I ain’t paid for the last lot yet. I have to stay alive, I have two dependents, one metal, one furry.
I couldn’t find the god forsaken USB microphone, so I bought another one. If the original turns up I’ll give it to Paul. I tried to buy a slide whistle but they didn’t have one. Twelve on order and no slide whistles, what’s this world coming to. I MUST HAVE A SLIDE WHISTLE. It’s impossible to be a living cartoon character without one.
I can hear Miss Margot’s stertorous breathing. I cleaned her eye gunk this morning and she accepted it with good grace (filled 10 saline soaked qtips with her eye gunk). The second I tried to clean out her ears, World War Kitty was declared and I beat a hasty, but integumentarily intact retreat.
Anyway I have an appt. with Mr. Methocarbamol followed by a long sleep on the complaisant Millie the Mattress. Tomorrow morning I’m going to fire up the computer, get the order of service done, and pray to the shade of Ada Babbage that the server reboot contemplated yesterday at work will make a proper workday possible. Also, I have a one on one with my boss (who is really, really awesome, and I’d say that anyway, thanks) tomorrow. I haven’t exactly told him anything, but I will, tactfully. Hopefully before the half dozen or so coworkers who read my blog rat me out. And no, ratting me out is neither polite nor accurate; I’m just shouldering my responsibilities again, and grace and temperance are threatening to bitch slap me if I don’t stand up straight under the load.
Flowers flowers flowers on my desk. Bwa ha ha!
Jeff and mOm and pOp sent me flowers. Oh, the convulsions of jealousy!
Yeah, doesn’t take much.
ANOTHER two delurkers have emailed me. This time it’s a bracing and unexpected and heartmelting serious of comments, and I just feel very loved right now. You never know when people are going to be affected by what you do! It gets better, etc. etc. But as human beings keep going through the same series of emotions and trials, it’s necessary to be reminded. And just in case – I AM SORRY I hurt anybody or caused them to lose sleep.
Because, yanno, sleep’s imPORtant.