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.

Brief visit to Augur Inn

I’ve been fighting a megrim on and off for a couple of days and last night as soon as I got into the cleaning of the bathroom mode, it threatened to come back again big time.  So I cleaned the upstairs bathroom a tiny bit, cleaned out the kitchen drawers a little bit, got a bunch of stuff into the big recycling bin called ‘the alley’ – where I imagine everything will be gone by morning – and walked around the house with Paul, contemplating the 20% that’s left – which will expand like an accordion file dropped on the floor to 80% in no time.  We made a partial list and then I grabbed two more little lots of stuff to go to my place, including hangers, thankgoodness, and declared peace.  I’m going to be at the Augur Inn for the whole bloody weekend, and neither Paul nor I are unpacked, so we declared ourselves done for the evening, not doing anything Thursday, and I’m thinking of actually bunking at the Augur Inn this weekend so I don’t get all cheesed off about the commute.

Paul gave me a ride home, and I’ll be unpacking tonight and thinking about what to do next at the old place.

Work has improved marvellously, but I’d best get out the door.  That half hour before the phone starts ringing is pure gold.

So I don’t have rights?

Apparently Paul is upset with me that I at first said that I wouldn’t go after his pension and CPP and now I’ve changed my mind and I will, and that I will be amending the separation agreement to reflect this.

I was hoping that he would understand what a good deal he was getting and sign off fast.  Instead he stalled, and told me that the house was not going on the market until the separation agreement was signed.  In the meantime, I got unbelievable phone calls and emails from friends and relatives, some of them PAUL’S friends and relatives, all beating me up something ferocious about what a prize moron I was being, what an unmitigated ass, and suchlike.  So I changed my mind.  My father, for one, will sleep more soundly, because he advised me ONCE at the beginning of this process, and having both more life experience and forbearance than my friends, has declined to advise me further, considering me both too foolish and too headstrong to take advice.  Okay pOp, the chump wised up, but only after repeated floggings!

However…. I am within my rights to request access to these sums, however paltry, and if Paul wants to be angry with me for asking for my rights, that’s his privilege.  I have something else to say about this that is extremely funny and mean-spirited, but I’ll save it for the Gang of Three.

I will quote from Cat Ballou, “….and made him talk to LAWYERS!” as my envoi….

more paint at the Augur Inn

Robby the Bomb gave me a ride back to the Augur Inn last night and picked up the kindergarten table and chairs which my Granny gave to my parents back when I was a wee tad.  It was odd to be giving furniture that has been in my family for 45 years to somebody else, but Robby (and his amazing wife Char) have been most excellently good to me and my family for many years, and they have two soon to be school aged children – and he said they’d bring it back for my grandkids, ha ha, so I felt pretty happy about that.

I painted trim and doors and carried garbage downstairs and cleaned the upstairs bathroom until I ran out of tile cleaner. Keith said he was really upset about all the changes – he only just came to this realization and it’s making him feel very odd and displaced.

Tonight, Dinner at Tom and Peggy’s.  I may pick up a couple of the frozen salmon and bring them back here: Paul can have the rest as he still has the barbeque.

Paul moved into his apartment yesterday. 

a surfeit of lampreys

I hear via Dr Filk that he and his cousin Jim found a pregnant Morrison Creek Lamprey in one of the smolt traps.  As this is a very rare critter it’s good to know they are breeding.  I went to Lampreyland (see blogroll) for pics and was disappointed.  (Lower lip comes out and trembles.)  So get on it Jim!

 

Keith gets mugged, but it all works out OK

Yeah, there’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever type.  Keith opened the door for me this morning and there he was with a picturesque and bloody bandage on his chin.  I said, what happened, and he said, with a big smile, I got mugged.

He got off work and three guys jumped him.  I asked him if he gave a good account of himself and he said no, and I scolded him.  All those bloody years of karate…

Anyway, they stole his lime green shirt, the one that was so ugly it caused a mutiny, his work ID, and his extremely expensive dress shoes that I got him for work.

He got two blows to the chin and his glasses fell off (but were recovered), but he didn’t fall over or lose any teeth. He seemed to find it quite bracing.  Honest to god.

So he went in to work and found out that his muggers, on opening up the bag and finding nothing in there but evidence that Keith, unlike them, had the wherewithal to get a job, had tossed his packsack in a dumpster, where it was recovered by an angel in human form named Mike, who promptly walked it back to Metrotown and had the pleasure of reuniting Keith with it in person.  Keith lost nothing in the encounter, to hear him tell the story.

Today I cleaned and went to Metrotown and bought myself shoes and then met up with Katie.  Not a single effing thing that I was looking for in HMV was there, berloody useless store, but Katie spent 100 bucks on herself, and then we went to Spiderman 3, and then we all went our separate ways home but we’re going to get together later this week to see Hot Fuzz.  

 

The end.  Kids, I tellink you.