Category: Friends

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.

New Puppy (Migraine better thanks….)

Dave @ OneLegWest has posted pics of his puppy Max’s first day at home. Check out how happy Jake is to see the new arrival….

I feel so much better and the sun is shining so delightfully that I’m off to Jericho tonight.

Did I mention the whole fam damily was over last night for a spaghetti dinner? Keith and Paul brought Caesar salad and corn bread, and Katie brought her sweet self and picked up her blankie from G’ma. Then we watched Buffy (Darla gets hers, the first time anyway). Happy Sigh.

Oh oh oh, I forgot to mention, I’m getting a FREE RIDE to Victoria for next weekend’s Pondfilk!! Dalai Jarmo just dropped by to say they are taking off at hours ungodly on Saturday morning to go see the tallships. Obviously I’ll chip in for gas so it won’t really be free, but Me Happy! It will be a most convivial crew, and they’ll just drop me off at the Harbour.

Every time I get a migraine these days I think happy thoughts and it goes away. Sometimes the happy thoughts involved nudity, but a lot of times I think about my friends and family and the happiness just wells up like a magical fountain.

The Buffster has landed

Mike was over for dinner last night and Jeff, Mike, Keith and I all watched the first episode of Buffy. So resign yourselves to many many fluffy Buffy references over the next while, unless Jeff decides to bail on the whole enterprise, in which case I’m going to watch my fave episodes again anyway.

The other day Katie says she and two girlfriends brought some guy they’d met in a bar back to her girlfriends’ place to chill. I’m sure he thought he’d died and gone to heaven – three cute chicks, woo hoo – and what did they DO? Watched the Buffy musical Once More with Feeling YET AGAIN, audience karaoke style, and creeped him out so badly he ran away. You’re welcome.

Dandy Warhols tonight! I can hardly wait. Nothing skedded for Thursday, the Luddite on Friday, Baby Shower on Sunday, Hilario Duran on Sunday. June is shaping up to be a busy and happy month.

I think I figured out why I’ve been so blue of late. I just passed my second anniversary of screwing up my back (which is better the more exercise I get, surprise, surprise) and I’ve noticed that my body remembers these life events, even if my mind doesn’t. Anyway, I don’t feel blue at the moment, which is a distinct plus. Thoughtful, yes, but even the greyness of the skies can’t bother me, because Keith showed me this last night. Don’t watch if you’re grossed out by cartoon violence.

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!

Yummies, Mummies, Dummies

So we cooked oysters and pork chomps and garlic bread and taters and squash and garlic and set out brie and crackers, and ate rice and ginger beef (leftovers from lunch, my gosh they were good) and I made a salad and Peggy brought plum squares (heavenly, just heavenly) and I set out melon, and then in a pleasant state of repletion we sat around and talked. I found myself becoming very tired so I kicked them out, but they took Keith with them, Tom and Peggy did, so it all worked out very well (and it’s not like I really kicked them out, it’s just we’re old and tired and it was starting to really piss me off that Keith just sat down and started playing Condemned II Bloodshot while we were trying to talk – you could see Tom starting to get into it). That was the first time we’ve had a formal sit down meal with cloth napkins since we moved in, so really it was about time. Jeff put me at the head of the table. Hmph.

This morning I’m going to go protest Scientology, which is a complete waste of time, but once you have a V mask it just seems like the right thing to do, and then I’m going to the partay…. Tomorrow Father’s Day like family stuff with Paul and the kids, which hopefully will be lighthearted and civil (those hopes are for my behaviour, not other people’s). And somewhere in there, laundry, feeding plants, mucking out my room which once again looks like a bear pit, getting another copy of Songwriter or finding the old one because there’s something screwed up with the registration, and the usual behind the scenes, keeping the whole shivaree running, kinda activities.

One could say “Why not go protest Catholicism?” and that’s a very very good question. Or Mormonism. I’ll tell you why I care enough to protest. L Ron Hubbard used what he learned being a science fiction author to start a religion, make a lot of money, and put himself beyond the law. As an SF fan, I feel a moral obligation to denounce his works. Also, on a personal note, a buddy of mine in Toronto started protesting Scientology 15 years ago, and I feel like a jackass not supporting that effort until Anonymous started up.

And it’s not a religion. The big difference between a legitimate religion and a cult is that you can show up broke and they’ll still love you. You can show up unable to stooge for them and they’ll still love you. In a cult, if you show up broke and unable to help out, out you go. The keeping your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you applies all around, including Unitarianism although less so, but you get the idea. There’s always a price for being part of a group, and in this case, I consider the price to be too high for society, let alone the folks keeping it propped up.

Man, the things people do to belong….

I have been invited to a baby shower! So has Katie! it doesn’t conflict with anything on my schedule! Me happy!

added 16 June – I forgot to mention that the demo went well and about 30 people turned up, but it was a real sausage fest.  The bus drivers were honking in support!  It was fun!

Not much to report

Jeff and I went shopping last night in an attempt to ensure that Peggy and Tom do not go hungry tonight. Pork chomps! Pork chomps! I got a running commentary from Jeff about the complete insanity of the shoppers and the store, and forebore commenting that ‘you should see it when the new Harry Potter book is out, that would amaze you.’

So…. ever see a baby dance to a banjo???

Another kind of baby, to trigger blubbery gushing.

I am in the midst of a hormonal zugzwang at the moment. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, perimenopause sucks a radioactive mop.

Lady Miss B (and Joe) are having a lovely party tomorrow at “Hackerfish Manor”. I am very much looking forward to seeing Dr. Filk, the folks and the house, in that order more or less; Lady Miss B is recovering from knee surgery as part of the ongoing rehab from her scooter accident, moving and holding a party all more or less at the same time, so once again her energy, which, closely parsed, looks like insanity, continues to stupefy me. And she writes lots of songs, go to her website and listen, especially this and this and maybe this too if you have time.

I’ve been thinking, and I don’t want to call the magic house of geeks “Geek House” any more. I want to call it “Geekhaven” partly because of Trollhaven (see archives) but just because it’s more, you know, aesthetic. One day, I will go to Geekhaven… doesn’t that sound nice?

Dinner

It was raining so hard when I got out of work that I took a cab home – I couldn’t deal with not having a brolly and it was ASS FREEZING COLD on the mountain, tks.  And the cabbie hit on me.  No further comments on that.  The Luddite was here – we had chicken fried rice and salad, and the usual Dread Bar of Yummy Chocolate.  Watched some more Earth to the Moon.  The Luddite picked up the Dunnett that Keith is leaving lying around and wanted to know where the naughty bits were.  “Sheesh,” says I in exasperation, “there’s like two sex scenes in that novel and if you blinked you’d miss them.”  “Too many characters,” says he, and I laugh, because that’s what certain other non fans have said to me.  The Luddite makes me laugh rather immoderately; his take on things is wickedly skewed.

I really don’t want to go to Jericho.  It’s at times like these I wish I had a car, because I’d go more often if I did.

Blah

Everybody I know is either sick, sickening with something, or just plain sickening.  And I don’t feel so well myself.

Got hold of Peggy last night and she’s in for the Hilario Duran trio.  w00t.  Also I’m feeding her and Tom on Friday the 13th.  Scary stuff.

Good Atheist, Bad Atheist is finally done.

I’m reading it to myself to get the cadences right, and stitching in a few last minute word changes. Thanks to my friends and family for the encouraging words.

Finally got hold of the Luddite – I’m off to his place for dinner and (likely) another interesting evening of Youtube videos, great music and amusing conversation.

I’m taking Monday off. As Dr. Filk once remarked, “I’m far too well to come to work today”

Domestic tranquillity update

I phoned Jeff last night after going a little wacky at the mall (total haul $100, shoes and tights) and said, “Don’t feel like cooking.  How do you feel about the Keg?” which plan met with enthusiastic endorsement.  Out of respect for mOm’s diet I’m going to skip the usual trough report.

My plants arrived!  Gai Lan, peppermint and Thai Basil.  I’ll be repotting them this weekend. I just gave them a little water.

I have a mild two inch scratch from Eddie, having helped clip his back nails.  No other injuries were reported.

There are at least fifteen blossoms on the strawberry plants out front.  I must go water them.

I send good thoughts to: mOm, Granny, Tammy, Katie daughter, Kopper, LTGW for the unwitting suggestion which finally broke the dam on the homily, the Luddite, Jeff and kitties of course (although one side growl for the unbelievable amount of hall-running they did last night), Tom and Peggy (get over here for dinner!), Glenn and Maggie (ditto!), Tom U. (ditto!), Mike, Heather, Jarmo and the gang that’s going to Indiana Jones tonight, Patricia, Tom McM, Carolyn Porco, everybody at JPL, all Dunnett fans, and all filkers everywhere.

Oh, I ordered a Zoom H2.  I couldn’t help myself; after almost a year of drooling on Lady Miss B’s H2 I gave in to the dark side and ordered it.

I have cancelled my planned trip to Denvention – I’m going to be needing every penny for France.

I am thinking of a certain pregnant woman, and confecting an especially airy and happy nest of thoughts for her.

A particularly happy and grateful shout out to Jeff, who has shouldered my tech support issues with the understated competence of a true professional.

Oh, and a big hug to the HR department at work.  I approached them and said, calmly, “I want to kill a co-worker.”

Response:  “Really?  Have some chocolate and tell me about it.”

End result:  15 minutes later, I’m back at my desk, snickering, and feeling much better.

Oh.  Nobody in my department – somebody else.  The folks in my department entirely rock, I love them.

Mike drops by

So last night Mike asked what I was up to (the first time the phone rang with my new ring tone, Elvis Costello’s Pump it Up) and I said Nothin – so he came over and watched Shoot Em Up with me and Jeff.  I fed him mango and beer – and home made garlic bread.  I liked the movie the second time.  Keith will be annoyed that we watched it with Mike, because Keith frankly worships Mike and enjoys every opportunity to spend time with him.

Last night’s meal was salad with tuna.

Now that we’ve figured out it’s impossible to ruin garlic bread on that barbecue, we’re eating it a lot.

Safely home

Jeff and Katie are home from their trek to Victoria; the cats appeared to have survived my tender ministrations, but Gizmo was so intent on keeping Jeff in view that he accompanied him to the landpeer’s house and would have gone inside if not restrained.  Foolish feline!  There be dogs there! Not but Gizmo doesn’t like the occasional scrap with dogs.

Bob Asprin has died.  He is memorialized by Tom Smith, one of the handful of people who make a living in filk, here.

From Patricia I have wonderful news which I cannot repeat, as the explanations would be tedious and lingering; suffice it to say that for once the wheels of justice have ground the ingredients for a tasty loaf instead of hard tack.

I sure hope the weatherpersons are wrong – it’s setting up for another partly rainy weekend.

I am now double booked for June 14th.  I don’t plan anything for weeks and then it starts piling up.

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.