Category: My bad

a little bit of ever’ting

It was a solstice party (1 pagan in attendance, check), a housefilk (whenever two or more of you are gathered together in the name of the typo, amen), a hootenanny (small children running around and massacring harmonicas and tambourines while Tapioca is cooked), a religious/cultural interpersonal therapy session as we sang the hums of our people (Falling Free, Frobisher Bay among others), an impromptu poly gathering (6 people in attendance openly poly, plus lurkers), a-a-a-and a shameless attempt on my part to get everybody to compliment me on my sheer good sense for buying Otto.  Who is a boy, Katie K confirmed it.  She also arrived with a housemate in tow and La Merveilleuse Tillie‘s fraking awesome rosemary infused vodka/vermouth libation, which despite the no drinking rule I tasted cause I had to.  And I ain’t sad to.  I’m glad to.  Still a taste left, if ScaryClown comes over tomorrow I’ll feed him some.  Stayed away from the beer, but Mike left 3 in the fridge, so at least I haz some to offer guests. Day before yesterday I made biscotti, and then shared them out liberally at the party, sending some home with the LET’S SING SONGS ABOUT DEATH (literally her first words when she unpacked the bass) Peggy  and the ever useful and opinionated Tom. Also dispensed biscotti to Mike, who sang The Weight (ah, the piercing harmonies!) and Tomorrow Wendy,  and to Rozo, who spectated with that sleepy and mischievous smile I’ve gotten so fond of.  The glorious and unabridgedly awesome Cindy added that special soupçon of harmonious madness without which no housefilk can be characterized as ‘good’.  Or is housefilk like sex and pizza?  ah, erm.  Anyway, we sang zombie songs (dead people), Frobisher Bay (freezing to death), Tomorrow Wendy (which has lots of death in it), Dead Flowers (roses on your grave), and really really kept the theme of somgs about death on track more or less by accident.  Paul sang Last Page and Cindy sang Runtime Error, Type Mismatch so Lady Miss B was there toooooo. Although regrettably not in person, possibly because I neglected to invite her?  Duh.

I cleaned my house and wrote a song yesterday, and people came over and we laughed and chatted and sang and played.  Success!  My brother has been feeling meh but not enough to crimp fun (he slept in the guest room, but Eddie the wonderkitty kept him company).

Due to overwhelming popular demand (two facebutt friends), I will be setting words to my new song, which is the third I’ve written in the Game of Thrones universe.  My Needle and I, and Funeral March of Lord Tywin (instrumental) were the first two.  This one is called The Maid of Tarth.  Oh Otto, you are demanding instrument, but I will rise to the challenge.  And now I realize that it’s 4 GoT songs, I forgot about Sam the Slayer.  When I get into a Universe I seriously fracking commit.

Now…. how do I keep my house clean enough so I actually throw housefilks more than twice a year? I mean apart from a chartreuse flamethrower and a tank of oxygen….

Sunday sundae

Taught myself a dodge for the Em chord so I can now play Uplift, which blew Paul away when I played it for him.  Also taught myself (not that it was hard) the Sublime version of By the Rivers of Babylon.  In the morning, going to pick up Carol for church (her family no longer has access to a car), being publicly humiliated in church and shrugging it off, breaking down in tears lighting a candle for Voyager which is currently on the edge of the heliopause.  Then the new minister’s sermon, which totally included the kids in a useful and intelligent way (wow, for that!!) Then the father’s day picnic, which took place indoors and I’m just as happy about that because I brought no chairs.  Then I remembered to grab something so it isn’t left in the church over the summer.  Then Paul volunteered to drive Carol home and Kathleen volunteered to close (Sue opened) and THAT’S IT FOR THE SUMMER.  Woot.  Then made some food and allowed Paul to bbq some salmon, which was just about perfect, and then met Katie’s beau. I had seen a pic but in person he is strikingly handsome (also unstupid, manners, you know the little things – and brave like hell for facing down our collection of wackos all in one go).  Enough said about all that; let’s just say that he proved to be very food positive and has a large capacity to eat salmon. Then called D. to ask about commercial kitchens – I’ll be setting up a meet with somebody this week.

Now to boring matters like my to do list.  Vacation’s over…..

travelling woman

1.  Excellent and wondahful visit with the parental units.  I got a photo scan of the old homestead in SK, had my traditional coffee and cinnamon bun (best commercial cinnamon buns ever) at Dan’s after a lovely ride in the country, communed with some skunk cabbage, watched the hummingbirds, who are quite active these days (three sucking back syrup with another circling, occasional flashes of the O My God red as the sun hits them), watched a quail peck a pileated woodpecker while the woodpecker ignored him, cooked a couple of lovely meals for the folks, which my mother quite appreciated, watched some nature programs, and felt pride as Katie passed the 48 hour mark of quitting smoking.  Fingers crossed she makes it this time!

2.  RUDE FUCKING START TO THE DAY.  I had to yell at the cab driver.  I will post a copy of the letter

 

Dear Sir,

I am a long time and mostly satisfied customer of Bonny’s Taxi, whose
services I have been using since 1998.

I am complaining in the strongest possible terms about the complete
disregard for the safety, comfort and wallet of the customer
demonstrated by the above-named driver.

This morning I got a cab to the airport from Bonny’s.  I SPECIFICALLY
TOLD THE DRIVER NOT TO MOVE THE CAB UNTIL I WAS BELTED IN.

The reason I did this is because my daughter just got a 147 $ ticket
because the cab driver she selected took off before she was belted in.

The driver verbally agreed to stop and then immediately sped off again
prior to me even being able to get the belt anywhere close to secured.
I had to yell at him to get him to stop the cab, which I am not proud
of, but he disregarded my clearly stated and lawful instructions.

As you are no doubt aware, the fine for not being belted in is borne
by the customer, not the cab driver.  I understand that time is money
but when your driver’s anxiousness to make some money potentially
costs the customer money and the aggravation of a court date, there is
something seriously wrong with the safety training and customer
service ethic of your drivers.

I would like a refund of my $44.30 cab fare and a reprimand on B.
D—–‘s file.  To be clear, apart from running a couple of yellow
lights and failure to make legal stops under the HTA, the fines for
which would have been borne by the driver, there was nothing else
wrong with his driving.

I look forward to your prompt response, which will factor into my
decision whether or not I complain to the licensing agency.

Thank you for your time.

I can haz new.used guitar

His name is Smoky, and he’s an electric-acoustic cutaway with a built in tuner, made by Seagull.  I put desperately needed new strings on him, and he sounds lovely.  Got him for approximately half price, and there’s not a mark or fretwear on him.

Also, I solved an extremely irksome problem in Finale Songwriter this morning, so now I can continue working on writing tunes down.

The office move went well.  The only thing that got lost from my desk was a trash can and one of my stalwart coworkers bagged me one.  I thought I had a shitty deal in terms of location, but the proof of the seating plan is in the actual results, and in this case I declare myself pleased, and I’m glad they put the cacklers close together, because G. and I both cackle when we laugh.  Also, who the hell’s idea was it to leave our fax number on the floor above?  GawDAMM.

Jerome dropped by yesterday, and how awesome to see him!  Shannon’s expecting again, and of course my family can never be too big.  He was describing how Braden plays with the harmonica I gave him, which of course nearly made my heart ‘splode with joy.

Time to go put some more laundry away.  I can hear Jeff blasting shit in Skyrim.  Herewith Dara Korra’ti’s lovely song, Fuck You Skyrim.

 

 

 

Tarot poem

She sits with her knees apart, the II of Swords
her eyes bound, her mouth seeming both stern and sad
She is the querent; she is myself caught in the act
being torn between equal things
swords crossed on her shoulder, crescent moon in a mocking pose
the beach and rocks poking through a tranquil sea behind her.
She is of two hemispheres and thus two minds
Her garment may be white, and may be gray

and I lay upon her breast the V of Wands
contention, disagreement, a donnybrook of all against all
with no driver but youthful exuberance, perhaps stupidity

Above, the VII of Swords
the very picture of a man making a retreat he finds most opportune
He abandons a campfire and the tents of his friends
what is he, why flee, and what is there of him in me?

Comes Temperance, to pour consciousness into unconsciousness and back again
for Temperance is what must be lived to make the work happen
that work of being awake, truly aware.

The Knight of Cups offers once again allegiance, wise counsel.

And the Tower blasts me back into the present
The shock, the bitter fall, the almost-had-it.

The II of Pentacles strolls up, juggling on a clear day
full of high seas adventure and what looks like
a child’s rendering of a tsunami.

And seated in honour next his knight, the King of Cups appears
and puts his bold chin in my view, saying
listen to Temperance! Govern yourself or be governed
by the debt you need not pay to regret.

The Knight of Pentacles, so solemn, his horse so placid
bits of greenery stuck in his helm and his horse’s harness –
offers me what?  Money? Nothing but an expanse of yellow sky.

The Magician, to point out the obvious
Infinity, the secret names of things inherent

in their common atoms
the binding up of secrets and knowledge

in the faintly whispered text.

 

author’s note

I did a reading without asking a question, and look what happened.

Board meeting and other stuff

So I’ll be having lunch or dinner with Carol and Sue sometime after mid February regarding the transition to becoming Secretary for the church.  I think Carol is very relieved to be going off the board – Karen is too.  Everybody is so busy and tired but the meetings are very cheerful and energizing and sometimes quite passionate without ever becoming disrespectful or heated.  It’s at  the Board Meetings I really feel like I’m living my U*U values…. the whole “Step up instead of back” and “Respect for oneself, respect for others” stuff that’s very hard to learn unless you have ongoing, important and committed EXAMPLES in front of you.

 

The weather continues glorious.  As does my mood.  Even if – one of my star performers at work is probably going to find another position within the company which will be insane making for me especially if, as I see likely, they will tell me that there won’t be a replacement.

The cats have decided to only come near me if I’m feeding them or on the can.  Eddie always looks at me like “Why can’t you use a cat box like a normal person”.

I want to slap everybody in Finance, with about three exceptions, until they cry.  Shows you that my U*U principles can’t stand the strain of crossing the threshold at Doc Oc’s Lab here.  But we must bring our light out into the world, until somebody steals the damned thing.  And when my light gets stolen, I get PISSED.

Friday night & Saturday

Friday night Cindy took me out to dinner and then we came back here and sang and played.  I had given Paul a heads’ up that we were inbound and he was waiting for us.  We sang and played until midnight. Katie poked her head in for part of it and insisted her pop play Ramboing.  Yeah.

Yesterday I did NOTHING except run the dishwasher, watch a couple of episodes of Rome, run Katie in to work and a small amount of shopping.  Oh, and I made tea dyed cotton gloves and got steampunk findings  as part of my hat making plans.  Today, church, feeding Sue some lunch after church, and then an afternoon of real chores, as I’ve already had my day of rest.  Right now I’m going to work on songs.

The guy with whom I had “My worst ever coffee date” attempted to contact me again.  The excuse was that he enjoyed talking to me. (He was fine on the phone and, uh, how shall I put it, how about enthusiastic and inconsiderate, and in legal terms, assaultive, in person.  In public.  I had to lie like a cheap rug to escape from his company.)  I thanked him for the sentiment and said, it wasn’t going to happen.  The response was happy holidays and ‘can’t blame me for trying lol’.  Honestly.   Now that I have a little distance I’m forcing myself to see it as yet more horrifying evidence that dating over 50 is hazardous to your health.  I whined to one of my coworkers afterwards (LTGW) and he fixed me with his unblinking stare and told me that he was sorry to hear I had such a horrific experience but that I need to ask more intelligent questions prior to dates.  After that conversation – which was very helpful – I swore a mighty oath to find more productive uses for my time than trying to date.  After all, I’ve got a concert to practice for.

 

One think and another

I just messaged one of my coworkers and instead of a cute little caffeine deficient owl I sent him a photoshopped bodybuilder which is candidly a very disturbing pic.

Yesterday’s homily went great – it was sparsely attended but I must not have been doing a good job of making it a worshipful experience because there was applause at the end (this is NOT a good thing in homiletics – respectful and silent attentiveness is de rigueur.) It’s posted on this site now.  Ralph came up to me, twinkling, afterwards and said, “I was going to tell you what a nice homily that was but I figured you’d kill me”.  I heart Ralph and Ivy so much.

Katie K, Lard be praised, came along (she may have attended one other, I can’t remember, but my friends never come so it was a red letter day!) and since I didn’t have the car we jumped on the Skytrain and went to International Village for lunch.  We wound up at Kentizen, which for $16 tax in provides a lunch buffet reminiscent of the lamentably fallen off but still extant Grand Buffet. There was loads of nice sushi and acceptably acceptable Chinese food, although the reviewer who says you can get Chinese food like that in a small town in rural BC is a moonbat.  I love the decor and ambiance for a Chinese restaurant and it was a welcome respite from the wall to wall noise in the Village concourse.  We shot the breeze in a most delightful fashion and she toddled off to Metrotown to hang with her daughter.  What a GLORIOUS day it was yesterday, the weather couldn’t have been improved on.

Then to Imaginarius Fantasticus, from whence, 300 dollars poorer, I emerged.  I bought two pieces of steampunk jewellery, an additional cambric top, a pink and black confection of a corset for daugher Katie (I had taken her measurements so her absence wasn’t an issue, and it did fit her – and corsets were $60 on special, so ya can’t beat that with a stick and I was so happy that my evil plan to pick her up a nice and relatively inexpensive corset worked), a BEAUTIFUL dark blue half circle Regency style cloak with ribbon closure and the most AWESOME hood (it is so flattering it’s amazing), a bunch of ceramic nametags (hey, they had Allegra, Tish, Terry, Hank and Katie so I bought them) and I came THIS CLOSE to buying Paul the Spock costume from The Voyage Home, which he would have looked f*cking awesome in.  Man, so so tempted.

There were carnivorous plants, and Viking (no, really, antique) belt buckles, and medieval armor demos and evil female pirates and kids dressed up like fairy princesses.  And aura readers.  I would have preferred a steampunk tarot reading, but ya can’t have everything….

Keith and Paul ran into Mike and Rozo at the Quay about the same time I was releasing the last of my money into the wild, so we all had quite the nice day…and then Lost Girl, which was okay, and now work….

I am settled into my room at the Double Tree Worthington

Cindy will arrive shortly and go straight to sleep in my room. I will find something to do with myself while she kips and waits for her room to be ready – I am thinking I might like to go look at the enslaved animals, if only in remembrance of the other Ohio animals who didn’t make it.  Besides, they have bonobos, and I ain’t never seen any.  Or I could wander down to the “German Village” room (!?) and see if anybody is filking yet.  Or maybe I’ll say fuck it and go to Macy’s.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Starbucks coffee is nauseatingly bad.  They may be proud to serve it but I’m a fool to drink it.

Gadhafi’s STILL dead, sic semper tyrannis.

So far, except for the coffee, I am loving this hotel.  The staff are really, really professional, friendly and courteous.  Room was supposed to be non-smoking, when I bleated they fixed it without a hiccup.

Weather’s like Vancouver, but windy.

I got selected for ‘special screening’ yesterday.  O goody.  I also got yelled at by every single one of the ‘security theatre’ staff, to the point that I would say “Please don’t yell at me,” not that it helped.  Note to self – travel in slip-ons next time.

“Miles Vorkosigan’s” filk of Lady Miss Banjola’s “Wreck of the Crash” MUST GET LYRICS and sing for my pOp.

It’s about the legal repercussions of losing your hotel room key, and it, like the song it’s based on is bloody hilarious.  YES there was filking last night and it was still going on when I went to bed at midnight local time.

VCon roundup

VCon vignettes: Getting asked by a new to filk fan if we “Had any Star Trek songs?” causing Creede and Shaddyr and I to look at each other wildly and flip the book open to Banned From Argo. Great concert by Creede and Shaddyr and I ran through our OVFF song list which was also well received. Songwriting panel I was on was attended by two very shy teenaged girls. Larry Niven was EVERYWHERE; saw him in the hall, the filkroom, the art show, the dealer’s room. The very model of an affable and approachable GOH. Dropped ludicrous amounts of money on clothing, including a sick confection of a steampunk hat, two corsets, skirt, buffalo belted purse, froofy blouse and bi-coloured leather wrist band with steampunk details and an alien glass eye on the top. Outfit is supposed to cross filk, steampunk and Browncoat fandoms. Shout out to foxipher – can’t wait for Conflikt ! Shout out to Casey Wolf. Saw the Best Assassin’s Creed costume EVAR; anytime the wearer passed somebody in period costume he’d go into the ‘blend’ posture which caused me to howl with laughter. There were half a dozen excellent Dr. Whos, the best Stormtrooper costume I’ve been up close to, and there was one poor chica who was the living model for Venus and Mars and had to change her costume every two hours as a walking billboard. Which she very much resembled as she was wearing the tallest platforms imaginable outside a KISS concert. Ran into various former coworkers and friends and friends of friends and had some lovely conversations and some long overdue catching up. Also, given that VCon is a smallish Gencon with about 1000 members, the art room was nothing short of spectacular. There were at least 10 items I wanted to buy and even the stuff I didn’t like was well done. And my costume was so cool (I changed into it as I was buying it, to the amusement of the dealers) I had requests for pictures. No VCon for me today as I am opening church and have life maintenance. But even so I call it an unqualified success.

Oooh, I just had an idea for a tshirt

Believe me, the artwork I’ve made up to go with this makes this even more offensive – and I do it all with line art and print.

When we get to discussing

imaginary friends,

my God’s not a dick.

I thought of another one, but it’s even ruder, and I know mein pOp will thank me for keeping it air.

Another one

Of course I made God in my own image;

we all need a girlfriend with a sense of humour.

Sundry and various

Call centers in Indian jails, this should work out well.

One Life to Live and All My Children will be cancelled. And replaced by a celebrity cooking show.  Hey women and shift workers!  Stay home and get fat, it’s not like you do any good to our advertisers otherwise.

Why would narrowed neck circulation have anything to do with MS?  But apparently it does.

Get your hands off that peen, or, what eXACTly are you testing for?  BC cancels controversial test of young offenders which involves handling young men’s junk.

If you’re a cop and get involved with drugs… you can collect two paychecks!  Mind you you’re not reporting the second one, but o well.  Woot!

Teachers in BC get a say over class size and composition. This is very good news for BC kids and parents, not to mention the teachers.  If you’ve ever taught a kindergarten class which is 1/3 ESL and has two special needs kids and is 30 students (not making this up, I have a friend who was in this spot) you’ll know what I mean.  Just getting them to line up for the can is a challenge!

I don’t get it. Can somebody explain to me why this is funny?

I’m impressed!  Ba-dum kish!

Katie’s only been here two nights and already I am fidgetty.  9 pm last night she leaves, says she’ll be back late, doesn’t show, doesn’t text.  Is she in a ditch? Did she crash at Kashka’s? Is she where she probably is?  And why’n fuck do I care? (Apart from how, every time she doesn’t come home, I have to rehearse what I’ll say to the cops if they come to my door?)

I blearily and wearily looked out my back door this morning, and thought, “Spring and Vancouver… no longer BFFs?”  There’s like half an inch of hoarfrost on things.  I knew at the end of March we’d get more snow because I could smell it.  Sounds stupid, but it’s true.  Now I can’t smell the end of it.  Snow tires will remain on car until further notice.

The move at work is getting closer.  Sure would like to know when we’re getting training on the new phone system and how it interacts with the call center software, but I’ve been assured there will be training.

Our CEO is leaving, and our new CEO is younger and French.  Rumour has it he’s moving to Vancouver.  I’ve met him the once, and apart from observing that he has a George Hamilton grade tan and a sense of humour, I have no comment.

The cats have been extremely rangy.  Margot in particular has been up in Eddie’s grill.  Eddie came for a nice long hug last night.

I played Buzz for about half an hour last night.  He’s going to be my bed time snack.  He’s so quiet when unplugged, but he sounds great.  I was thinking of dragging the amp into my bedroom, and just said screw it and brought Buzz in.

I can hear Margot laboriously licking herself on the basement stairs.