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It’s a new dinosaur.

I am contemplating atheism, yet again, it being a topic of much importance to me.  Stay with me, because my chain of reasoning here is more slender than Ann Coulter.

Right now, I laugh at your holy books.

But in a hundred years, you will be able to laugh at mine.  It will be old fashioned, full of assumptions no longer in the slightest true, and neither realistic nor edifying.  Just like your book.  I am quoting myself to say that “The Bible’s truth to me is not the truth of its history and laws, but of its poetry and narrative.”  My book, whether putatively fact or tentatively fiction, will look the same to the most rabid Christian.  Laughable. Simply because a hundred years have gone by.

So why can’t I laugh at your 4000 to 1900 year old books?  Ain’t they out of date? Tired, even?

Just asking.

Played Brooke vs John for Mike in the car today, he liked it.  Got a compost bin (about frakking time, tahellja) and sigh a hammock for Jeff and I to laze about in.  So when I realized I could no more work today than fly to the moon (although I did put an hour in on Grieg before I gave it up to do something more interesting) I IM’d with Mike, found out he’d broken up with Heather (O.0) and then spent a good chunk of the day with him, first stopping off at Still Creek to acquire and then drop off a compost bin.  Then… tooling about to a surplus joint where I dropped 15 whole dollars and ended up with a recorder, a glasses case, a shower head and a campstove.  Yeepsh.  Then off to Canadian Tire where I watched a very quiet Asian chick get escorted civilly out in handcuffs, this after saying to Mike under my breath, “What the farce are three cop cars doing here?” and Mike said, just as quietly, “Shoplifter.”  Found the hammock after some casting about, and then Mike got his hot springs shoes and a foamy for the spring itself, so you can lie in it at your ease without scuffin da skin offen yo’sef.  Everytime I see pictures of it, I just don’t get a sense of what it’s really like.  I saw pictures of Hot Springs at Hesquiat for years before I ever went there.  Oh, and Mike tells me that BATHING SUITS  must be w0rn at all times.  I’ll make mine so worn I pop right out of it.  No I won’t.  I won’t go.  I am feeling a desperate need to stay home, and will give in to the urge.

I send loving energy to all the people I know whose love relationships are over or in terrible, terrible peril. Couple of candles too.

Saw Irina Palm. LOVED every minute of it.

Ate at the Balkan House.  Loved every minute of that, too.  I hadn’t had a good schnitzel since Toronto.  What put me in mind was reading about Czehoski’s in the Toronto Star, and that made me think of Toronto, and its many culinary delights.  The Maharani on Queensway, which by a miracle is still there; Bumpkins is long gone of course, but many o many were the times we ate ourselves silly and happy there, and Tony was SUCH a doll… the Szechuan place on Spadina, whose name escapes, where the owner lost his licence and dispensed beer in teapots while he sweated out a six month suspension.  And he used to parade up and down between the tables with two crossed bandoliers full of fake projectiles. Colourful, I believe the word is. HUGE aquarium in the front of the restaurant, like really, almost floor to ceiling, big. The soft ice cream place way the hell and gone in Mississauga, out along the Lakeshore, so far out we had to pass in the shadow of the Four Sisters to get there (the stacks for the coal fired generators).  The Golden Griddle, the breakfast buffet place at the Etobicoke Toronto border the kids used to tease us to go to.

Mmmm.  Breakfast.  I haven’t done an all out breakfast in ages.  And without eggs or milk in the house, that age will age yet more.

Off to see Kopper tomorrow.  I know exactly what has derailed me, and I think a good dose of girlfriend will fix it.

Even the sea lions want to get into the action.

Miss Margot goes back in the collar because she won’t stop licking the incision.  Grr, I hate putting her in it because it makes her nuts – or I should say, nuttier. Jeff and I played soccer with her last night.

Eddie came into my room and did NOT pee on anything.  He just wanted to hide in my closet.

India has decriminalized homosexuality.  Now, if they’d just criminalize Monsanto, the world would REALLY be a better place.

The world famous squirrel catapult.

awwwwwwwsome

Helped Katie with her job hunting.

Bought a dresser.  Previous landpeers paid back the deposit (to Jeff, not to me, but I don’t care, candidly).  I would like to publicly thank Jeff for dealing with this entire mess with his usual deft combination of skill, smarts and calm.

Then re watched True Blood (yeah… s’addiction, s’what?)

Rearranged my room somewhat and can see more floor.  Yay, me.

Depending on a number of things I have no control over, I probably won’t be going to Hot Springs Cove this weekend, and may end up in Castlegar instead.  More news as events warrant.

Dentist again today.

Then, helping Katie find work.  It’s good to be able to help her, and she’s feeling rather blah these days.

It was very emotional looking at John’s books.  Keith got the martial arts books, and I got the anarchism books, and Ruth will be looking after figuring out where the rest of them go.  The temptation to cherry pick nearly killed me but Paul fortunately restrained me.

True Blood ep 3 season 2 was AWESOME.  Eric totally kicked ass and Vampire Bill pulled out some angry angsty goodness.  The magical midget doctor from the books was PERFECT.  I mean, absolutely freaking perfect.  And it will be a recurring role, so I am really happy.  It just goes on and on being better and better and I’m really happy about that.

Paul asked “Do you miss work?” and I realized I had not actually thought about work in two or three days.  So either I’m knee deep in a nasty form of denial, or I am really not missing it.   Or I’m just keeping busy and finding other things, like Margot and my freaking teeth and my Unca Dave and the fact I prob’ly won’t knock a damned thing off my bucket list today.

Parm me maam has you seen my bukkit?

1. Practiced “The Weight” by the Band. Practiced “That Godforsaken Hellhole I Call Home”. Practiced “The Exchange I Make”, “All the Con Men I have Known”, “Words Fail” (also known to my fans as the Telecom Song) and numbers of others. Found the lyrics for “Daybreak” and added to CESOAS. Entered most of “Grieg” on Songwriter, finished “Didn’t he Die?” (which was my memorial jig for Grandad – and just figuring out which TIME signature to put it in nearly killed me but aftet that it was okay), put finishing touches on John’s Song (AKA the Filker’s Farewell) including chords and performance instructions. Found YET another tune I had forgotten and wrote it down in the Canonical Excel Spreadsheet of Allegra’s Songs.  Hacked around in Garageband and may have a new instrumental.

2. Exercise. Not so much. Have much reduced beer intake and stopped drinking coffee.

3. Found, remembered the password for (phew!) most of my erotica, re-read it, and now have the strong urge to edit ALL of it. I can’t find the really really good one I wrote in Montreal, damnit. I need to revise it all; just tweaking.

4. Talked to Jeff about K-side.  I need to update the definitions and then he has plans to make it web based. w00t.

5.  Margot’s okay.  Everytime Eddie sees her with her cone on (which I have to leave on or she licks the incision point non stop) he hisses in dismay.  Scratch that, he just hisses every time he sees her, whether the cone is on or not.

6.  Waffles.

7. Laundry.

8.  I am struggling with the incompatible notions of somehow making an atheist liturgy legitimate or playing it strictly for laughs.  Of COURSE I want to make it hilarious “And on the Sunday closest to April Fools, the Reader shall wear a clown nose; and on the Sunday closest to December 25, the Reader shall wear a furry red hat with white trim…”  You get the idea. But that doesn’t fix the problem.  Keeping it all under fifteen minutes including the responsive reading will be pretty funny. And this is all part of the “Atheism is a religion” thing my Christian and other faith based friends, relatives and neighbours say.

9. Jehovah’s Witnesses.  She got past good morning how are you, and my response was, “Very well thank you but I don’t require any religious instruction today.”  Can’t you recruit on the internet like pedophiles and neoNazis and people who think contrails are a government plot? Derh.

10. Well, I’m never going to make the 9 am ferry at this rate, so I think I’ll dress and jump on the bus.  Sunday schedules suck.

We can go get her any time now. Sigh of relief.

So Jeff and I will pick her up at 5:30. We intend to video Her Loopiness.

Is it too soon for this?

I am currently of the view that he starved himself into a heart attack, probably with the assistance of ‘diet pills’.

I looked up Michael Moschen and hung around on his website for a while, and then decided that I wanted to find out what David Van Tieghem, the guy who did the music for the PBS special “In Motion”, was doing these days.  I found out that he scored some porn films (?!) and then stumbled upon this.  Reading Annie Sprinkle review her own movies put me in a very good mood.  Your mileage may vary.  To be fair to David Van Tieghem, he is an accomplished and energetic musician and if you read just what he’s done in the last two years you get breathless.  But if I didn’t like his music, I wouldn’t have ended up on Annie’s site.

So There.  Now I want Jeff to find out if some of those movies are available on Zip.ca; although really I’m more interested in the documentaries than the porn.  Really.

Anyway, it’ll be 10 am soon and time to quit playing and do some frakkin’ work.

holy cow.

After being here for a couple of hours including grabbing a bath and some shut eye, Katie left in the middle of the night and let all three cats out.  I heard squawking about an hour ago and got up to let them in, and Margot was soaked and FILTHY.  Considering you have to hold her underwater for about an hour to get her really wet (nothing seems to get through to her undercoat) most of it brushed off.  The bathroom floor is covered in debris that fell off her.

She’s going to be fixed on Friday.  O goodie.

Then Sunday, John’s memorial Pondfilk.  I’m not going there with Paul but with luck will get a lift back with him.  The rest of this week should be devoted to music and continuing to get the house organized.

Awake at 4:30, up at 6, made breakfast for me and Jeff, showered and headed off to Edmonds Skytrain Station, where I met up with Katie and went into the VCC to be the ‘living model’ for her three hour practical exam.  This won’t mean anything to anybody who hasn’t seen episode 2 of this season’s True Blood, but when Eric comes down the stairs with full salon regalia on, I just about died laughing.  And so did Kate when she saw it just now.  When she was foiling my hair this morning I couldn’t stop laughing.  Anyway, my hair is the same colour but curlier and shorter.  It’s a change. I’ll let others decide if it’s an improvement.

I bought a bed but it won’t be delivered until July 16.

Mike SLEPT through his dentist appointment, a ferociously bad state of affairs, and I’d talk about it more except my opinions are late and useless.

I cooked roast beef with steamed carrots, long beans, broccoli, cauliflower and baked potatoes; I made GRAVY.  Ser yum.  And I fed Jeff, Keith, Kate and Paul.  Mike would have come but he feels dreffle.

Of course I played it through in Midi format and realized that I’m going to have to re-do it, but at least the main tune and chorus are written down.  Damn me for making the tune of every single verse different for dramatic effect. So that’s ONE song scratched off, if not perfectly.  Tomorrow, something else!

Now I’m off to Mike’s to cook him lunch and render aid and comfort… he has toofache.  And no relief until Wednesday.  Must remember to pack beer for Mike, all the better to wash painkillers down with.

And so I cannot start off with my 10 – 5 routine of work which I have planned for myself as the best way to treat my year off. I will, however, be working in the middle of the day on something, probably a choon.  There certainly are enough of them, and John’s song is not written down yet, so that might be a good place to start.  Tomorrow…. up whenever, cook breakfast, to work at 10.

See how I took all the fun out of everything by making it all like work?  But I know only too well what will happen to me if I don’t put some new habits in place of the old one.  I’ll end up completely deranged in a big pile of paper, and that’s not too far from what things look like right now.

I am reading Austen’s Mansfield Park.  Fanny Price is a remarkable creation.  She looks like a prig but she’s just really really sensitive.  The description of how she feels when she goes back to Portsmouth to be with her noisy gross family is awesome.