Keith’s B-day tomorrow – Robert Anson Heinlein’s today

The four of us are planning to get together for his birthday. I already bought his present but it will probably arrive next week.

Had the folks over for beers last night; in attendance, Melissa, Ryan, Brian C, Jarmo and Rob of Nine, who was, unfortunately, not able to massage my printer into compliance as there is no driver for it. Drat.

After they all left, Swampy came over for a beer and told me that things are going much more smoothly than he anticipated and it was just really pleasant to have him here – and we discussed a couple of books, including Focusing and The Dosadi Experiment (which is basically a fast forward through Dune without the religion and with a kickass courtroom scene at the end). Then at nine my date came over. We sat outside next to the fountain until about the fourth time he slapped a mosquito (imagine that… a guy who gets bit by mosquitoes more than I do!?) at which point I said that I found it unconscionably inhospitable to contribute to his discomfort so, and besides, there was beer and a bathroom back at my place…

So I guess I’ve had a very sociable weekend already and it ain’t even noon on Saturday yet.

Today is the 100th centenary of Heinlein’s birth. How I wished he could have become a blogger. Okay, I don’t but it makes me laugh to think about how he would have talked about the last three or four sets of American governments.

I talked to Kira on the phone today.  She was purring.  Zeek!, thank heaven, is back to his old self and the bloody spot under his chin has cleared up.  His bloodwork came back okay so the 1200 vet bill Paul and I were looking at turned out not to be necessary.

Keith will come by today before work with more Aubrey/Maturin for me.  (more, more more!) and some other media for me to peruse (hopefully Fables III and IV).

I watched Denis Leary’s music video of Asshole last night.  I always liked the song, but the video was brilliant, IMO.

Facebook is extremely amusing, and I’m having loads o’ fun with it.  Mostly poking people.  I’ve gotten into a poking contest with two people; I know that sounds rude, but it’s harmless virtual primate fun.

Here’s a cool “matrix style” domestic argument, from Japanese TV.

Food & Drink

So we said goodbye to Burnt yesterday.  Alas, poor Burnt, having to move with his new bride to San Francisco.  What a chore!  Obviously I envy him.

Yesterday was a hang with the kids and install software kind of a day.

Katie did two more of the outstanding projects yesterday.

I watched a documentary called the Great American Songbook.  I’m going to go out on a limb and aver that it was put together by gay men; there are four or five Garland clips and only two of Sinatra, and one of the Sinatra clips makes him look like he’s singing a love song for the ages to Jimmy Durante, who’s quite spectacularly ugly, and the narrator makes the point of outlining the orientation of every songwriter along the way.  Am I being politically incorrect?  I hope so.  It was a pretty good compilation though.

Great evening

went straight to Metrotown from work, riding down the hill with Patricia and Scary Clown, then a meal in the food court (U Grill) and then bought myself a summer jacket with all the latest hardware detailing, drooled all over some fet gear in that weird shop with the dragon out front at Silver City, then Pirates of the Caribbean, (LTGW said it was an art film and he was mostly right) & then a meal.  Keith cued it up so that Paul came to the movie as well and we had a very civilized and comradely evening, including a stopover at Chong Lum Hin (where else) where Sue gave us a rapturous welcome, and I got to read episode ninety – the last – the very last – of Strangers in Paradise.  It has a happy ending!!! Me so happy!!! they Both get pregnant and live happily ever after.  Okay, this will only mean something to maybe two people who read my blog, but I was terrified Terry Moore was going to kill off Tambi, and he didn’t.  And I gave Paul back the Powerpack and a piece of mail that somehow got included in my mail forwarding.  And somebody saw the house, but no offer.  Open house this weekend, wish us luck.

I’m glad my evening was so great, because work sucks a Greyhound Bus Station Men’s Restroom Mop right about now.  Not people, just work to the ceiling.

Good news and bad news and the Augur Inn report

The good news is I’m down six pounds since the beginning of May. The bad news is I still don’t have a proper editing toolbar in WordPress. However, Rob of Nine, being the kind of guy he is, has offered to come assist me next Friday. I decided it was an excuse for a party, so I’m throwing a tech support party next Friday after work. Tomorrow I go see Lindsay’s band at the Rowing Club, and I may end up sleeping on Patricia’s floor; personally I’m more inclined to go crash at home, seeing as how it’s one bus ride from her place! There’s even a night bus.

This evening I communed for three hours straight with the downstairs cleaning in Dr. Filk’s old place. I’m ALMOST done the kitchen. Still have to do one last wipe down of the counters, but everything else is clean.  Also I vacuumed in his old bedroom – again – as there was debris on the carpets from where Paul put in new plugs. That room looks amazing now – Paul also put back the wooden louvred doors – all in all it looks a most attractive room. One more wipe down of the windows and it should be good to show. Also damp mopped and put floor polish on the downstairs bathroom and got the last boxes and a cat carrier out of the dungeon storage room. It’s getting there. The real estate agent will be in early next week.

I light a candle for my boss. I like him personally and professionally, and to be wholly professional… I shall say no more.

I used to work there

With David Crane (at the time he was a flack) and Maurice Strong (generally considered by Canadian nutbar conservatives to be the Canadian George Soros), can you credit it? I was the receptionist, they were the men who walked by very fast looking important.  A tile fell off the building.  I have to tell you, I wrote a novel while I was working there.  Anyway, the scariest thing about that building was that it was owned by prominent Jews (Reichmans) and was always the center of what passed for terrorist threats in those days.  Also, in high winds, the elevators would bang against the shafts with a repetitive clanging noise that was scary as hell.  Also, while I was working there I got my first exposure to a fax machine.  It was the size of a chest of drawers.  Amazing.

More cleaning

Yesterday I got to the Augur Inn, where I a) returned the penultimate Strangers in Paradise, b) cleaned the downstairs bathroom, removing paint spatters and glue which had been there since we moved in, cleaning the door, and putting the light fixture back up so that all that remains is scrubbing the floor and painting the door c) cleaned the railings in the deck, d) rewashed some windows, e) ran the loveseat cover Janice got through the laundry and hung it to dry as Zeek! bled all over it, f) started detailing the downstairs kitchen, g) scrubbed out the laundry room sink some more (it isn’t done), h) washed the exterior of the windows in the garage.  Partway through my day Katie took me out for breakfast.  It was yummy, and you can get steak and eggs at the Big 6 for $6.35.

About 3:30 I bailed and Paul drove me to the liquor store and I picked up beer, wine and vodka (the only mix I have is orange juice….) and helped me in with MORE boxes and some pictures (I left them in the garage) and then I spent a lovely four hours with Gail, Jerome’s mum, who’s a simply fascinating woman who has raised three simply splendid children, and whose brother Bruce wrote that Vancouver Map Book (before there were computers).  This is a book which shows what Vancouver looked like in ten year increments and which lived next to my bed from the time I got it to the time I moved (of course I can’t find it, but I will when I’ve finished unpacking…)

 

Then I unpacked my new vacuum cleaner and I LOVE it. It’s a new Hoover canister and it does everything a vacuum cleaner should do and there’s only two attachments and it looks like a bug eyed alien and is bright orange. I vacuumed my apartment (well, not the bedroom, the bedroom is a disaster still) but the rest.

This morning I got up and washed the pot and pans I got at Ikea and made myself coffee and breakfast, and now I’m going to figure out when the first bus comes and then go over to the Augur Inn.  Katie was going to take me to see Spiderman and Keith and Paul invited themselves along but that’s okay….

The weather has clouded over.  There are many, many birds here,  I could birdwatch all day.  This morning I watched a hawk kill something.

Burnt and his new bride are probably honeymooning somewhere.  I will get a full report on the wedding from LTGW on Monday, or so I hope.  Men never remember the details women want to hear, unless they’re gay or making a heroic effort.

I have started reading Master and Commander.  Stephen Maturin’s comments about thinking he was gonna die are very funny, and Jack Aubrey is the most admirable mixture of low cunning, high spirits and cluelessness that ever walked on the foredeck of any ship, real or imagined.  Sigh,  I can hardly wait for Pirates of the Caribbean III.

Paul has made revisions to the separation agreement (as have I) which I have not yet seen.  He says he’s not putting the house on the market until the separation agreement is chopped, and also I shouldn’t have moved out because it’s costing a lot of money.

Uh…. I wasn’t thinking about money when I moved out. I was thinking about my sanity.  I had a little hiatus there while I didn’t do much, but that had as much to do with the unbelievable YogSuggothian hor-ror of work as any other emotional background noise, and I was still going back to the house to clean rather more than I want to, because I am actually serious about getting the house sold.

I already know what’s going to happen.  Paul will stall until the house selling season is over, then move back into the basement and rent the upstairs.  He can do what he likes.  I still own half the house and when the time comes to renegotiate the mortgage, he can buy me out and experience the joy of doubling the size of the mortgage on one income with a renter who may or may not work out.  Even if housing prices plummet I will still be free.  This is why I find what Paul’s doing so amusing.  He keeps talking about money. He never talks about the emotional stuff, only about the inconvenience, and how the house which he spent many many hours complaining about has now majickally turned into a haven.  I already got what I wanted.  I have contemplated how I would feel if I lost every penny on the house.  I would be plenty cheesed, but you know, life goes on.  My spiritual advisor has lost just about everything, twice, in the last ten years, and all it’s done is make him a better person with a clearer understanding of what’s important.  I should be so lucky as to have life events that did that for me!

I want to sell the house and get the best buck possible not because I am a raving acquisitive bitch, but because I want to have the wherewithal to help my children.    Happy Mother’s Day, everybody.

window cleaning

I cleaned windows, got a pizza for the other folks in the house, cleaned the downstairs mirrors, and will probably have to clean the outside windows again as they were pretty filthy and some of them needed to be scraped down.  However things look a lot better and the gunk where cat noses had been is gone.

Katie experienced the unholy anger and disappointment that comes when your manager doesn’t tell you something and your grandboss finds out and then your manager, in front of you, tells the grandboss that you WERE told.  And leaves you to hang out to dry.

Katie is looking very hard for another job.  I think she shouldn’t have a problem finding one.  She’s decided she wants to go back to working for a privately owned business as she’s finding working at a chain pretty soul deadening.

Off to work….

Course today

I tried to find a way of conveying how much happier I am to be going on course today as opposed to going to work but the only analogy I could think of was both so violent and so vulgar that I decided not to sear my ma’s eyeballs with it.

My apartment is a sty because I’m never here when I’m not exhausted…. I detailed the laundry machines and cleaned the rug in Dr. Filk’s old bedroom last night. Also saw Katie back at the Augur Inn as she did laundry and tried to figure out what of her stuff is going with her over to Suzanne’s. Dax has moved out.

I have picked up Tom and Peggy’s housewarming present, with thanks and love. It is two little rosemary plants to replace the monster rosemary my mum planted by the front door of the Augur Inn. The rhodo is in full bloom in front of the old place… another thing I will miss. Next up at the Augur Inn. Windows, downstairs. Dan T. is also working flat out on the house which is great.

Keith was nowhere in evidence at the Augur Inn last night and much missed. He loaned me Jeff’s copy of Master and Commander so I will now start a Patrick O’Brian jag.

From Stan Goff’s blog

No one enjoys writing cover letters to prospective employers, so out of the kindness of my heart I decided to make one for all of you, to serve as a template. I hope you find this useful:

Dear Potential Employer,

I was recently made aware of an opening for XXXXX position at your company. I want you to know that I am exceedingly passionate (to the point of sexual arousal) about the opportunity to work for you, especially as the systematic destruction of the wild buffalo and fish stocks and the enclosure of once-communal land by White colonizers of this great country has made my preferred hunter-gatherer lifestyle untenable, and left me with wage slavery as the only option. But believe me, I am damn passionate and driven when it comes to this, my only option for subsistence.

A glance at my resume will reveal my eminent qualification for this position; you will see I possess the necessary skill-set. But most importantly, many years of mind-numbing, individuality-suffocating industrial education have shaped me into the subservient, unquestioning sycophant your company desires. I will perform services for you that I wouldn’t perform for even my most intimate lover, and with all the conspicuous enthusiasm I can muster. I will produce my best ideas for you to steal, and watch without complaint as the sweat of my labor is transformed into your BoTox treatments and a Mercedes for your sixteen-year-old. I am a perfect model of what The System is designed to produce, and as such, my obsequiousness knows no bounds.

Thank you for your consideration. I mean, please please please hire me. Did I mention how incredibly @&%$-ing passionate I am?

Sincerely,

Your name here
Etc. etc.

cluelessness continues

I stood Tom and Peggy up last night.  I can’t seem to walk and chew gum at the same time these days (and during the day I am dealing with the miilitary industrial complex, which is adding new richness and depth to my panicky moments).

Anyway I apologized and offered them tea over at the Augur Inn, got the first draft of the separation agreement into print and Paul drove me home.

The computer just needed to have its battery popped back out and in.  Thanks Lexi for helping the tech support happen.  

I hope today is better.