Cooperative play

Jeff picked up an instrument and played Rock Band last night.  Now I will relate to you a story of such …. well, I’ll just tell the story.

The boys (Jeff, Keith and Mike) were crashing through the final chords of Creep by Radiohead and….phhht.  The power went off.

There was no reason for the power to go off.  The inevitable – the inescapable – conclusion was that their playing was of such total awesomeness,  they rent the space time continuum enough to make the fuse go. Is that not amazing?

Apart from my home made cole slaw I didn’t actually do any cooking, Mike did it all.  But steak and chicken and home made french fries?  And cole slaw? That’s a meal.

I attended the baptism of Darwin this morning.  He was angelic.  That’s always nice. I briefly spoke with Unca Barry and Ontie Jackie, as well as the happy parents, but alas my excesses of the night before caught up with me and after I woke myself up snoring during the service I realized I should go home.  Fortunately, an IGA was on the way to the Skytrain, so I could buy yummy snacks, and the Granville cold beer and wine store was awful handy, so I’m now stocked up again for the rest of the day.  This is a good thing, because I’m going to be watching Army of Darkness.

I am thinking that I’d like a steam or soak though.  I don’t know whether I’ll go all the way up to Hastings Steam and Sauna – I’ve never been there stag, which is funny when you think about it – or just to nearest rec center, which would definitely be cheaper and closer.  Hell, I may even walk.

Good day so far

So I went to Surrey Central, and met up with a very nice man.  He treated me to hot and sour soup and a steamed bun (which was teh awesome) and we walked around and talked a bit, and I anticipate hearing from him soonish. And meeting his dog, who sounds like a sweetie.

It’s not the best part of town even in broad daylight (I wanted to avoid him having to come across that non existent bridge) and as soon as I got off the train there was a guy….. urinating in public, in broad daylight.  Funny thing, the last time I saw a guy urinate in public was at a Skytrain station.  I am glad to be a girl for a lot of reasons, but needing to plan my life so I don’t have to micturate in the full view of people who might not want to watch is definitely one of them.

Then I went to New West and nobody I know there was answering  the phone and Keith wasn’t either.  I went to the Quay but all the stores are closed, so I went back to the new Sally Ann thrift store building and made a killer haul for less than 20 dollars, and then realized GOSH SAKES IT’S COLD. So back home again.  It was beautiful and sunny this morning, but the weather is increasingly overcast and frigid.  Next up a trip to Mike’s for dinner (me cooking) and Jeff and Keith are coming along.  Something tells me we’ll be watching movies and drinking beer tonight….

I should toss those clothes in the laundry.

Sleep and food and Saturday links

Casting the witch in the Wizard of Oz.
 I heart Margaret Hamilton.

This is just freaky, but I’m only posting it because of the Firefly reference.

I was really suspicious of the do not call registry right from the beginning, mostly because after the gun registry debacle I didn’t think the Canadian government could organize something conspicuous in a camouflage store.  Now we learn, surprise! bafflement! that the government is SELLING the list at a nominal price to whoever will pay for it. Alas, Ottawa.

In about 2 hours I’ll be jumping on the transit for my coffee date.  Instead of swithering, I’m sorting laundry, acting as cat doorwoman, paying bills, cooking AWESOME split pea with ham soup, making breakfast for me and Jeff and answering emails.  I had a wonderful night of sleep – slept maybe 1 1/2 hours longer than normal.  I actually feel good.

Perhaps it has something to do with the departmental meeting with the new Ops great grandboss at work.  Like Holy Paradigms Batman.  I was buzzing like a thwacked beehive and dancing up and down like a little kid when I got home last night (met up with Keith at Brentwood station and the little bugger did a ninja on me, sneaking up behind me in the bus line up) because I was so happy with the meeting.

There are four priorities in the new configuration of the company.  Safety, Quality, Customer Service and Financial Results.  So I recited them to the dude to indicate that I’d stayed conscious during one of the town halls, and then I asked him to give me the matching 4 mantras of corporate culture.  In a very TED lecture kinda way, he said, “Respect, Metrics, Voice of the Customer and We’re Only in One Business, and that’s the Only Business that We’re In” (not phrased like that and over a much longer period of time) and gave examples to support it.  The previous group he’d been with had just sat and stared at him.  Patricia and I peppered him with questions until he told us (respectfully) to let the men get a word in edgewise (and just think about the state of the world that this would be the case… I love the 21st century).  Then I insulted his wife’s taste in sweaters (yes, I know, and I am going to be punished, I’m sure) and we went home.  It was supposed to be a half hour meeting and it took nearly two hours and the time FLEW BY.  My hopes and fears for the future remain the same, but my hopes definitely have my fears in a hammerlock.

I’ve been conversing with Deb about her daughter Jenn and her Pitbull rescue organization.  Here’s the link. Unfortunately it’s not possible to get a tax receipt for Canadian donors but I urge my American readers to make a donation if it meets their criteria for a worthy charity.

And tomorrow, time for a baptism.  Me happy.

Bits and pieces

I have a coffee date with a guy I met on an online dating site.  Since I don’t have his permission, I will provide no details.  Don’t worry mOm, it’s in a public place in daylight.

Very much looking forward to the Darwin Dunking on Sunday.  Atheists can have an infant dedication through the Unitarians if they want a party-time equivalent.

Go Obama team on the whole Getting the Constitution off Life Support concept.

I didn’t see Aretha Franklin’s Inaugural hat, but I hear the dude what designed it has orders for over a thousand, and thanks to the power of the internets his phone started ringing about two minutes after the Inauguration.  Having seen it I am somewhat amazed that a giant fruit bat swathed in Swarovsky crystals managed to drape itself so nicely on her head, but there’s no telling what animal trainers can get up to these days.

I’m gonna call B’nai Brith today and find out which English language Arab websites refer to Jews as apes and swine so I can tenderly remonstrate with them.  I’m sick and tired of being called a racist by Jews because I don’t want heavily armed dudes killing babies because their parents didn’t have the money to emigrate to Canada.  I don’t want the destruction of Israel, but the last campaign was more a demonstration by a bully than the continuation of diplomacy by other means. Hamas is a greedy, lying, violent sack of putrescent ideology, and I hope they all keel over from necrosis of the brain.   On the other hand, if I don’t actually challenge both sides, Jews are right to call me racist, so I’m going to suck that one up.  I will calm myself by watching Pat Cadell videos.  You know he lived in BC for years, and once gave one of his rants wearing a Canucks t shirt which made me crack RIGHT up.

I liked seeing Keith last night.  He was here for supper, to drop off my memory stick and to pick up his cell phone, which was eaten by Jeff’s bad, bad, sofa.

I liked seeing Kate last night.  She appeared at the front door of Planet Bachelor at the same time I did last night and I burst into tears I was so happy to see her (and just as rapidly calmed down).  Let’s just say I didn’t have a good day yesterday and leave it at that, oh, but how could I not mention I’m hundreds of dollars poorer AGAIN because I had to buy new glasses and they won’t be covered, but my prescription has worsened and the expensive ***** coatings on the old ones are trash.  Nikon lenses are the gold standard my *****.  Then when we got on the bus to leave (I was only there for an hour and had a snack with Paul and Katie) we met up with Wendybird!  It was lovely to see her and talk to her again.  She lives with her brother like me, and while she’s no Rhodes scholar she is one of the most cheerful and sweettempered people I ever met.

Katie’s doing super well in school still and got 95 on her last test.

Comcast layoffs are affecting people I know in the US.

This month is a three paycheck month, and happy I am about that.

The cats have trained me to pour them a glass of water if we happen to meet up in the bathroom.  Go thumbed primate.

the nut shot

Has anybody ever noticed that one of the enduring tropes of humour is the nut shot?  I’ve said before that anything can be explained by ‘following the genes’ and this one is pretty simple.

What makes a nut shot funny?  Well, it’s happening to somebody else. That’s pretty standard for all humour.  But notice the division of humour.  Men almost inevitably find the nut shot more amusing than women do.  Any action which potentially removes a rival from any activities resulting in offspring is going to be a-ok; if it’s accompanied by humiliation and dominance, that makes it even tastier.

I have heard some women remark that a man could use a good swift kick in the ‘nads, but it’s almost inevitably in the context that the guy is an asshole, the guy is abusing his power, or he’s sleeping around on his pregnant wife, an activity which draws a lot of heat even from women with a relaxed attitude towards sex.

Can you tell I’ve been living with Jeff for the best part of a year?  I’m enjoying it, even if it has me meditating on the nut shot at 4 am.  Not because I want him to experience one – I grew out of that 40 years ago – but because he laughs his ass off every time he sees one. Especially on Robot Chicken, which has a high NSPE rating (Nut Shots Per Episode).

This is how everybody uses a cell phone, including me.

Obama was inaugurated.  He’s doing something about Gitmo, and about bloody time.

Feetsball & biscotti

Normally I don’t watch, and I don’t care.  But the Eagles Cardinals game yesterday was awesome, and I think I’m in love with Larry Fitzgerald.  His play in the first half was enough to make watching football seem like a rational activity.  Then the Steelers won, but holy crap, it wasn’t nearly as fun a game and the injuries were pretty much continuous.

On another subject…Gosh, I miss all the fun. I have to wonder if ScaryClown had something to do with it.  And all the people who read this blog who’ve quit drinking are probably happy to be reminded of how stupid it all was.

With all the paper and crap put away, the acoustics in my room have changed.  It is very odd.

I am sad to report that my second zombie heart was a miserable failure.  It went into the oven okay, but sagged terribly and now looks…. Well, I’ll finish it anyway and post a pic, but  next time I’ll make the base bigger.  Let’s just say it’s a differently abled zombie heart.  We went to Michael’s and got more sculpey and paint and clayworking tools.  Jeff declared himself allergic to the Muzak, and I told him I was tempted to tell him he wasn’t the target audience (it was screechy girl stuff).  I also wanted to quote Katie K about the “all Jann Arden all the time” station here in Vancouver.  As in, she doesn’t like it.

Biscotti got cooked.

I also made spaghetti and meat balls – Keith even ate some. It was good to see him.

Otherwise I didn’t do much yesterday but I feel refreshed and rested… back to work!