Category: Uncategorized

I am, however, going to make MUCH MORE MUSIC this year.  That’s not a resolution.  I’m just going to schedule it.

I’ve got the Dr Who song down cold and IT KICKS ASS.  40 Million Light Years is coming along nicely (Katie sang the chorus with me…. and then we spent AN HOUR reviewing Sleep Talkin Man and peeing ourselves laughing.  When he’s asleep, that man is the ultimate hipster douchebag; when he’s awake he and his wife have this awesome relationship.  Yes I have friends of my own. )  I still do not have a fixed tune, although it’s coming, for the Dandelions Dreaming song.  Oh, the sad artist, with such a plethora of work!  Somebody bring out the fainting couch, dahlings.

I did not go to Jarmo’s.  I started drinking FAR too early; I woke up when the car horns went off and then went back to sleep.  Such an exciting life I have.

Well, I’d say the last three months to six months represented a new low in depressive episodes for me.  Continue reading Doldrum dropping

Pregnalor has left the building, and come back with a BABY.  Yes, Lady Miss Banjola has healthily whelped, and we’re all super happy about it.

Dax was here for Christmas dinner.  Everything was perfectly calm and civilized. Now to Victoria, back tonight.

Zow

The adventures of Action Item!

Call the toll free, get pissed on from a great height.  Sorry, can’t answer your call, call later.  Click, Bzz.  Need to talk to Canada Post before I can tell one of my coworkers that she’s an ignorant sociopath with delusions of adequacy; strangely I need to check my facts, even if she doesn’t.

Annoying.

Broke a large piece of glass this morning trying to get the food I cooked  for a company potluck into a bag to carry it.  Cut myself three times cleaning it up and I just realized I cut my leg as well as dropping the lid on my foot.

Happy fucking Monday, y’all.  Only good thing about this morning was the brevity of the commute and the pan fried scallops I had for brekky.

Trying to train Margot to grunt on command is hopeless, and yet entertaining.

I wrapped the present for the needy family this morning.  It’s the first 3 books of the Scott Pilgrim series.  The 14 year old boy did ask for graphic novels after all.

In other news, I went to check out the cajon that’s on craigslist in town and it sucked so I didn’t buy it.

In other news, Katie and Keith are back in Vancouver and I cooked a baron of beef (mit gravy) and mashed spuds and broccoli for dinner last night.  Paul stopped by to eat and run.  I don’t mind, he cooked two meals earlier this week both of which were awesome.

Feels weird to be through The Wire.  I am thinking about that a lot.

nomnonomnom.

I have a self-entertainment story that I’m always working on in the back of my mind called the Warlord’s Cook.  The Warlord is about 70 at the time of the story and the cook is about 50.  The story is set two generations into the future, post collapse. (Fertility tanks, diseases break out of the antibiotic jail, global depression triggered by fraud and currency speculation, banditry, shooting nukes between India and Pakistan leaving large swathes of both countries and downwind uninhabitable, and as the final wretched maraschino on top, collapse of the rubber industry when the long predicted blight attacks the monocropped rubber in Malaysia and SE Asia.)

Anyway, in my version of the future The Clipper is still in use.

Please do not use mah food storage area for a restroom. Thank you.

At least I found it and cleaned it before the boys show up tomorrow.  Jeff’s having friends over from Victoria; I hooked him up with a coworker who works at the Garage on game days so they should get a special tour afterwards.

So, no post.

Yesterday something that happened at the budget meeting after church horrified and disgusted me.  I exercised my democratic franchise and voted – alone of the congregation – against it.

A church is bigger than its minister.  After all the f-cking scandals – and guh knows Unitardians have theirs – this is the lesson.  The people stay, the minister moves on.  Even if everything is right and tight, the minister still moves on. It’s a career, after all, not an ossuary.

Unitarian scandals?  Co-ministering spouses get a divorce in the middle of their service.  Ministers date church presidents.  Ministers get up in the grill of the worship services committee and go down in flames.  Ministers try to get a particular church to adopt a particular theology in the teeth of heavy resistance and are removed.  Unitarian scandals are usually ’bout sex and power. I imagine there have been scandals about ministers and money, but not that I ever heard in 15 years of Unitarianism.

An ongoing scandal in Unitarianism is how poly relationships are where gay relationships were in the 80’s.  Those in the know, know, and those who aren’t don’t get told because it’s ‘Too extreme for where the flock is right now’.  So I know a bunch of stuff about polyamory and Unitarians (Canadian and Yank) and I have to keep my mouth shut, or horses will be frightened.

You know what it’s like to march in Pride parades and know this shit?  It feels human.  It don’t feel pretty, but there it is.

Anyway, when you commit to a church family, it’s warts and all.  It’s knowing that the minister, or lack of one, will change in the future; people will join and people will quit and it’s all part of life’s rich pageant.  I quit Beacon and realized that what I was running away from was myself, so I came back.  All the problems I had are still there but I’m motivated to work on at least some of them.  Including my reaction.  I am not going to just blithely suck it all up.

This paragraph deleted on the insistence of my lawyer.

And to cleanse my palate of all this, Paul and I, joined by Keith, evangelized for Unitarianism yesterday.  After church we put door hangers in the neighbourhood around the church, and glad we are that we did, too; it’s a gorgeous little neighbourhood and the views are awesome.  Hint, hint.  Stop, look, listen, and think.  And go back to the work, because it don’t stop.

I have to leave the house at quarter to seven to buy stuff for church today.  I forgot to do it yesterday.  I forgot to do anything except some transcription, some laundry and some cooking.  Still no snow tires, yes I am lazy.

It was good to see Keith.

Generally, people who work in slaughterhouses don’t become vegetarian.  So, PETA, making comments about how people would become vegetarians if they really knew what goes on in slaughterhouses will not fly.

It’s steampunk, it’s a repeater.  Hopefully he’ll forgive me that it’s French.

Still no sign of Katie.  I’ll be talking to Paul, who’s off today, to go to where I think she is prior to calling the cops.