Category: Al K. Hall

Pride

I’m off to Pride for 11:30. Mike came over last night; we swapped bodywork and drank beer and my shoulders FINALLY feel good enough to hold a banner for however many hours we have to for the parade.  The rest of my back is also so much better, but I am very much hoping I don’t have to carry for the whole three hours.  Somewhere around here is the “Queen’s Fluffiest Pillow” t-shirt Keith designed and had made for me.  It’s amazing how good life can be when your kids grow up and get money and start buying you little gifties.  I am still stunned that he did that for me.

The new downstairs tenants didn’t stop running the dryer until midnight last night. The buzzer went off under my head just as I was dropping off to sleep.  I will have to go have a firm and pleasant chat.

Came home from drinking with coworkers last night

And there’s a block for all the knives, a new toilet seat, and, in the freezer, chocolate ice cream. It’s like I live at Hogwarts and every time I turn my back the house-elves have done something. Go Jeff.

Said goodbye to Liz and Klaus last night. Liz is an Irish lass who was with us in HR very briefly but memorably and honorably (and if I say why she was memorable, that would be indiscreet) and Klaus is a German lad who was with the company for about the same length of time as me. Like everybody who’s been at BigCo for more than ten minutes, he has an Allegra anecdote; faithful readers of this blog will know that I write Valentine cards for coworkers every year. One year his read, “I love you as much as I love the company ERP” which is kinda like saying you love boils, plague, cedar splinters and popped collars. He sought me out afterwards and with a classic everyman WTF expression on his face BEGGED me to reveal what in God’s name he’d ever done to deserve such a card. Everybody in earshot hearing this for the first time burst out laughing…especially the people from Finance.

I spent 50 bucks on jugs of beer and nibblies, and some of the folks there coughed up some money, so I only ended up spending what I would have spent on myself, so it was more than satisfactory.

I am making chocolate waffles. My happiness is tempered somewhat by the knowledge that somewhere, lurking in the batter, is a piece of eggshell. I hope I get it and not Jeff.

Ooh, I just remembered. Ian M. gave me a lift home and he’s got a brand new Prius. Silver, of course. What a sweet ride that car is!

Off to Mission.

I won’t be posting until after I get home from Mission tomorrow; it’s time for the festival out there with my current and previous coworkers, including no fewer than two bosses, and which involves stringed instruments, alcohol and the World’s Best Campfireâ„¢. Continue reading Off to Mission.

ScaryClown was here

He had an interesting day at work so he went to our place early after I checked with Jeff, and when I got there he and Jeff were ensconced in the living room watching something. Then Jeff and I made dinner (he broiled the chicken breasts to perfection, I must say) and we consumed it on the back deck with attentive cats and much hilarity. The cats liked him… it was sweet watching ScaryClown leap to his feet to let one in when he scratched at the door. “You’ve set a precedent,” Jeff said drily, and ScaryClown said something to the effect that cats easily train him.

I have no beer left, but I’ve seen Robert Macnamara in Fog of War and I was amazed. It’s one of the best shot and most interesting and best scored documentaries I ever saw. I remember DrFilk raving about it when it first came out.

Partay, Mine is an Evil Laugh, Solaris

Jeff and I had a lovely time at Hackerfish Manor, but I’ll tell you one thing for true, I’m never drinking a bacon shot EVAR AGAIN.

Saw the Soderbergh version of Solaris.  It’s a hard movie to love, but I thought it was great.  AND it has hang drum orchestration, if my ears don’t deceive me.

Why is mine an evil laugh?  Because Lady Miss B just LOANED the FIRST THREE SEASONS of BUFFY to Jeff.  Squee!

False Creek & home again.

I now know how to get to False Creek by bus.  The “Spit” yesterday (Spits being gatherings of Dunnett fans) was at Monk McQueens on False Creek,  a restaurant I’ve never been too. The service was sort of the standard Vancouver crabby – but the food was good and the view and company very pleasant.  The husbands don’t usually come along – most middle aged men will take a quick one in the ear before spending the afternoon with a bunch of strong willed middle aged women – but one did and he definitely was no wallflower.  AND I got a free button (Gelis is my heroine) which is pretty funny…. but it would only be funny and make sense for you if any of you had read the books. I ate oysters and drank draft Russell’s while the sun moved.  (Yes, technically everything is moving, and the earth is rotating around the sun).

Got a lift home, thank you Ingrid, and then finished Band of Brothers and watched the most recent episode of BSG.  Once again, operating on the theory that you just can’t have enough sleep, I went to bed early.

Waffles with strawberries and sausage for breakfast; barbecued pork chops, new potatoes with chives and sour cream, and fresh asparagus for dinner last night.

We expect to see Keith turn up some time today; apparently he went canoeing yesterday.

I’ve moved the strawberry plants the Luddite gave me to the front stairs, where they will get more light. Although he’s from south London originally, when he’s larding it on thick he goes pure Yorkshire and says things like Look-sure-ee, lass! which never fails to crack me up.  I think it’s a Look-sure-ee that I’ve got strawberry plants on my front stairs.

Today, puttering and laundry and at least one song stuck in Songwriter.  I’ve got some short ones… at this point anything would do.  Of course, the most recent one is Willie P’s Lament.  It’s only a minute long, in its current configuration; I’m quite fond of it. I just wish I could play it and simultaneously get the fretboard fingering, the picking, and the intonation solid.  I’m definitely working on the ‘best two out of three’ theory but I suppose I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, I only wrote it a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t been practicing much.  It was fun practicing it on Wreck Beach earlier – all I can say is my next instrument will be even lighter than a mandolin.

hot hot hot

By noon yesterday it was so hot in the house that I started thinking that it’s gonna be a very hot summer, and time to get a small window fan. By about two, I was sitting with Mike in the Mustang – top down, of course – heading over to Wreck Beach, which was full but not packed, if you know what I mean. Mike brought a UV blocking cabana (made for Spalding, it weighs less than a pound and keeps the sun off ver’ nicely) and then it was homemade music, surf, kids laughing, startlingly vast gusts of fattie smoke, a nice breeze which died around 4 pm, and the goddamned RCMP creeping up and down the beach several times, forcing me to hide my beer, the bastards. Yes, I know, what am I doing drinking on the beach? Well, it’s all part of the ambience. I even went in the water. Twice. The first time I thought that somebody was stabbing me in the feet with icy knives; the second time, basically just to make sure that I hadn’t had a physical hallucination, the icy knives were stabbing in all directions up to my navel. Don’t think I would have done well in Bastogne. Mike and I conversed about a number of things, but it was not a day for heavy conversation.

Left the beach to hook up with the kids to watch Narnia II, but (oh look, Gizmo is sniffing the barbecue in a hopeful way) unfortunately the 7:20 was sold out, so I bought them a snack and Keith headed out to my place with one of my parcels and I hung out with Katie briefly and then headed home.

Left the beach – I laugh to see that effort compressed into three words. I have been climbing a lot of stairs lately because I changed my route to work a bit, so I’m actually in good shape to climb stairs. I just couldn’t because of how hot I was. I stopped five times on the way up those 375 stairs (normally I stop once); but there were people skinnier and younger than me doing the same, so I didn’t feel bad. One middle aged guy (I must have been VERY red) asked me if I was okay and I just nodded. I didn’t push; I just climbed when I could. Got a shuttle bus almost instantly, then made the Big Mistake of the day and got on the 41 instead of the 25. The bus, which was driven by a woman in the first grip of a manic episode (I wish I was exaggerating) went mechanical (speedometer, a no go item), so I get tossed off my nice comfy seat and forced to stand in the blasting heat for twenty minutes until the replacement bus came, which was not a replacement bus, but just the next bus, which already had standees. That’s when things seriously fell apart. It took ten minutes of haranguing on the part of the bus driver (another female, this one justifiably testy but quite sane) to get everybody onto the bus – I lost sight of my bags – and every goddamned stop was accompanied by yelling to allow people on and off the bus. When I hit Joyce Station I learned that the movie was sold out (I was late anyway) and that’s when I met up with the kids (they appeared just as I pushed the door open at the mall, a wonderful feeling) and fed them a snack.

The sun (yes, the sun, I only had two beers) having had a wicked effect on me, I collapsed. Really, I should have had a shower first, but the way things have been going I figured the only way to make sure I actually wash my sheets today is by bringing the beach home with me. Out of courtesy to the other people who use the laundry machines I’m going to shake them out off the back deck first.

My back feels great. I like the sun. I even like moderate amounts of exercise. But the best part is coming home and thinking that I’ve lost a dress size off my butt from the exfoliation. I really love the beach.

Sundry and various plus HDR

A picture of Vancouver at night in HDR format.

It’ll make a nice break from Tetris on my phone.

Guess where I’m going tonight?  You can tell Mike has been here! We fed him halibut and salad and ice cream and fresh mango last night.  We also drank beer and watched BSG. And traded bodywork, it would hardly be like seeing Mike if that didn’t happen.  I might as well just leave the massage table set up in the living room, but I’m trying to fix it so you can drink beer, watch tv and get worked on at the same  time and my tiny pea brain can’t fathom a solution.

I love science “Cinderella” stories.

Over at Patricia’s

Patricia fed me and Jeff last night.  We had a really good time and at the end of the evening I said there was no fracking way I was transiting home.  It’s only a 20 dollar cab ride back from her place, which I file under ‘good to know’.  The Luddite is by this evening.

My god, we were talking about Vegemite last night! Now it’s in the news.

Patricia mocked me for my tarot reading ways – justifiably so.  Now I can’t tell if the long journey over water her last cards foretold is about an exotic vacation or just a nod to how we always go into the third floor can to gossip. Oh, if only I could interpret it!  Oh, and looky here!  More animated floor mop action!

Fun evening

I am up rather earlier than I want to be, but I suppose it’s better than sleeping til two and then cursing the absence of daylight in which to run errands…

The mighty Lunch Bunch was reconstituted – Mike, me, Tom and Jerome.  Happy happy sigh. We watched 3:10 to Yuma and otherwise ate and talked and drank beers.  Brian and Chari turned up and added their brand of conviviality and rude remarks to the mix.  Keith turned up as well.  Jeff and the gang seemed to get along – it’s really hard to imagine that they wouldn’t; it felt kinda strange that after all these years my work family hadn’t met my kin.
I have one other piece of happy news – daughter Katie has been to the VCC and picked out what course she wants to take in September.

I am some contented kitty-cat this morning.  I’m going to laze around for a while and then clean up after the party and then go to the Spit… and a Spit is a Dorothy Dunnett Readers Association meetup, usually including food, books and alcohol.  Then, practicing some more.

More packing? More packing.

Yesterday was pretty steady. We knocked off around 4 and had dinner at the folks’ place, then cruised back here after stopping off for Apricot Ale (link removed for safety) which is rather delightful stuff, and watched the EPIC director’s cut of Kingdom of Heaven (which I loved but I can see why it was panned) and then the little gem The Secret Life of Words. Heartshattering and beautiful – that was the movie which got Sarah Polley acquainted with Julie Christie – and we all know how that turned out.

Little bit of everything

My explosive happiness of the last couple of days has simmered down somewhat.  I have all new shiny tunes on my music player, and I set foot out the door yesterday to the strains of Dion’s “The Wanderer” and next up was Verve’s “Bittersweet Symphony” which, inshallah, will be played at my funeral. Work was work and Trevor got up at lunch so I could sit down, so that was nice.  Then on the way home I turned around and walked backwards for a while so I could listen to Dylan’s “Visions of Johanna” and watch the sunset at the same time.  Today I’m going to lunch with my boss and someone from one of the furrin offices.  Monday I had the second best workmeeting of all time (the best one was with two of the US office guys and a pitcher of beer); the convenor, who has been with the company less than a year but has always impressed me as a very clever man, ran things in a very collaborative and fun way, and the other person was my colleague from day one at the company whom I reverence greatly (he ALWAYS sends me fraternal greetings on International Women’s Day, which is beyond words sweet) and we actually accomplished what the meeting set out to do which is how meetings go when you have the right people in the room and the wrong people aren’t invited.  And minutes were provided within a day.  Yeah.  That’s how things should be, gorramit.

I light a brace of candles for my gran, who essentially hasn’t been sick since she was recovering from gall bladder surgery, which I think was back when tv had been invented but the colour hadn’t, and who is finding her current trials painful and frankly undignified (but not life threatening).  Given that she is the sweetest woman who ever trod this ball of mud, I wish her speedy relief so she can get back to more interesting activities.

mOm is dejunking…. she is dejunking an immense piece of guilt inducing junk onto somebody who’s doing handsprings of gleeee at the prospect of receiving it, and the person who gave her the guilt inducing junk is the one who suggested it.  That’s what I call win win.  I mean, when the person who’s getting the junk is paying to have it crated and shipped…. this is success!  And no, it’s not junk.  But one of the definitions of junk is ‘useful stuff in the wrong place’ and this terrible blockage will be cleared, with satisfying results, shortly.

I am working on the Valentine’s cards for work.  One must be careful.  But one must live up to one’s reputation as well…. not always an easy balance to strike.

Katie had her first day of work at her new job yesterday and pronounced it tolerable, except that it is JUST BARELY on the other side of the line in terms of zones for bus passes.  Personally I think she should walk it but you know kids these days.

I am SO looking forward to purchasing a bicycle.  And actually living someplace I can use it!  I never did get rid of my bike helmet (or my motorcycle helmet, as I secretly believe that one day I will again have a sweetie who rides) because I didn’t want to give up that last bit of hope I’d use it.

This weekend I’m off to the Island to help my bro pack.  I am looking forward to that as well.  Hope he’s got lots of good things for me to cook in the fridge.  Hint hint.

I have much curtailed my beer consumption, which is good. Quoth the Luddite, “You don’t have to stop on my account,” after suggesting we go pick up beer to take back to is place and I’m thinking, “But I don’t need to drink beer when you’re around.”  Ah, I’m just being socially malleable.  If my friends all drank and smoked, I probably would too… no spine, that’s me.  I am going to bed at a reasonable hour and not spending hours on the computer.  All good so far…. can it last? Probably not; the cheerfulness is probably just an artifact of having the sun on my face when I went home last night, after months of darkness.

Oh, snap.  My printer is out of ink.  Think fast about this!!!! what shall I do?  Oh, yeah, there’s a reprographic place in this building, it’s not like I just ran out of airspeed, altitude and options all at the same time.

Cats.  There will be cats back in my life!  Eddie and Gizmo are wonderful, staunch, middle aged cats. Nothing too spectacular, except Gizmo took a dog out once, and both of them are mighty hunters.

Salmon Chanted Evening

Well, that was entirely a slice of life. I mean, how many women in Vancouver had a date last night that included:

  • a threat to be serenaded – on triangle? (He plays well; he even has an album credit!) He plays other percussion instruments <<<--- wOOt, Catherine!  and pennywhistle too. I wants me some triangle loving from Ward's Music now. Actually today I'm buying a snare head and brushes but that's another story.
  • a listen to the album, which is lively English trad tunes?  To preserve his privacy, no link alas.
  • a trip upstairs to view…to view not etchings, but Shuffle Demon videos? Like, more than one. I got to watch Out of my House, Roach! (more than once, I loved it so much) and Spadina Bus, and there were more yet. I countered with the Dudley Moore Beethoven Sonata version of the Colonel Bogey March, which is brilliant (I think rOn sent me that link). For the life of us we couldn’t find an audio of the Peter Cook Coal Miner/Judge skit but we found the text. He countered with the Shirt Sketch from early John Cleese Graham Chapman days. And there was some other stuff in there but it was jolly good fun, like his Morris dancing road trip picture.
  • Double Chocolate Stout beer? Quoth he, I don’t know why I got given this, I never touch beer. Well I did in a rather total war kind of way, and it was yummy…
  • Leftover Chinese food from a splendid meal at Angel on Fraser? (Except the soup, the soup bit sand). Quoth he, I don’t like leftovers.  Hmmm.
  • A wonderful hour poking around books from the thirties about engineering marvels and archaeological digs?

I am now contemplating moving furniture some more and then Keith’s going to come over and we’re going to shop and try to find the Serenity DVD (director’s cut/special edition).  Tomorrow, Kopper and I will hang out.

At some point I have to figure out what the hell I’m doing for New Year’s Eve.  I have six different prospects, but I want to do stannomancy at the Dalai Jarmo’s again, and the folks say they are up for having me…. it’s also the closest.  Always a consideration.