Flash Fiction - I contribute

I wasn't planning to but I made a start and got on a roll ... the end result was a contribution to JJ's Flash Fiction Friday #23, over at Purgatorian.

It's posted on another one my blogs as After we went to bed.

It’s all about the view

What constitutes a life? Well, I sure as hell don’t know. Maybe that’s not the right question. Maybe the question should be, how do we choose to perceive our lives?

There are certainly lives that are shitty. And there are definitely lives that are grand. The odd thing is, though, the people living those lives don’t necessarily see them the way we do. Some people who have lives we think should be great think their lives suck. Some people who have lives we think are crappy seem to enjoy more from a single moment than the rest of us do in a lifetime.

So what exactly makes us think our lives are good ones or bad ones?

I don’t know. But there are people making money hand over fist who would tell you their lives are black holes of despair and there are people living in conditions that would make our hair stand on end who end each day with a dance.

For some strange reason, in our western culture, it is really easy and quite enjoyable to feel life is tragic and sad and oppressed – and I don’t really know what that’s about except that I think there is something in our culture that remains stubbornly juvenile, obsessively rooted in that phase of growing up where it’s us against the world and everyone and everything is against us, and we’re the butt of the world’s tragedies … despite the fact our lives are probably the most comfortable any culture in the history of the world has ever had.

Of course, it’s not about creature comforts. Which may be why we bitch and moan. Yes, those comforts are there. But the relationships we need to sustain us are not, hence the ever constant fallback of “woe-is-me.”

Most of us are too busy getting those comforts in place to do the work the relationships require, and most of us are too busy worrying about how the rest of the world might view us to turn our attention to what out lives really require.

And the funniest thing of all – and I’m a perfect example – if we just lived, rather than thinking about and strategizing living, we would probably all be a lot happier, whether (objectively) our lives are shitty or grand.

(And I have absolutely no idea what prompted this post. Maybe because I'm listening to Lucinda Williams. By the way ... I really like her. But man ... that woman's gotta cheer up!)

Update: I had to change the image on this post. Originally I had a picture of a glum guy sitting on a street corner. But it was such a gloomy image it depressed me every time I looked at it. And the image I replaced it with seemed more fitting.

Tags: Life, Culture, Lucinda Williams

And if life were perfect? …

If life were perfect, what would that be like?

If I were to go to bed and find my bedfellow was Eva Longoria, and she didn’t snore or do leg kicks in her sleep, didn’t have cold feet and fornicated on command like a wildcat rather than lie there like a dead fish as so often is the case with people who are too good looking for words, not that I would know but I imagine quite well and I’m pretty sure that’s how it works – it’s we lesser beings that put the oomph into a sexual go-round, but I ramble … ?

What if I were as rich as sin, would everything that I could buy break and screw up like everything seems to manage to do, or would my fabulous wealth magically circumvent the reality that companies, for the most part, produce crap (in the interests of shareholder value) … ?

If life were perfect would God turn a blind eye to my years of furious masturbation when I finally kick the bucket and let me through the Pearly Gates to play golf forever on velvet greens with Tiger Woods despite the fact golf bores the shit out of me … ?

Would God, instead, let me bowl with Jeff Bridges … if life were perfect? … (that was a cinema reference to the Dude, for those who may be wondering.) …

If life were perfect would I have better things to do than write moronic posts such as this one … ?

If life were perfect … Oh! If only life were perfect I’m sure it would be … well, something more or something different than what it actually is. On the other hand, I’ve this sneaking feeling it would be a lot less interesting.

Haven’t you ever noticed how the perfect people seem to be perfectly boring? Or, if you’re the nosey type and you see what their lives are really like, how they’re never really quite so perfect?

Life’s funny that way. Actually, on the whole, life is just plain funny.

(And let me here offer my apologies to Eve Longoria. We have never had sex so I have no idea what a coupling with her would be like. I am, however, open to exploring the possibilities.)

Tag: Eva Longoria, Jeff Bridges, Perfect life

Thank you for shopping Safeway – stop looking at our breasts

I’m not the family grocery shopping guy – I’m the single guy shopping guy. So I don’t buy laundry detergent, toilet paper or potatoes in proportions like, oh, African relief air drop bundles. I shop in small proportions and with an indeterminate schedule.

And I mainly shop at the local Safeway because it’s two blocks away. I just wander over (on foot – no car, I don’t drive) and pick up whatever few things I need.

I do this quite often because it’s a pleasant walk, especially with the iPod on, and the tour through the Safeway is pleasant enough (especially with the iPod on). It’s a smaller Safeway – not one of those behemoth deals the size of ten city blocks. Their clientele is students largely (from the university), plus single professionals (like myself) and the forgotten and dismissed elderly. No need for a big store here. No massive family purchases required.

Okay … so what’s my point? Well, it’s the business of name tag placement. It’s always on the chest and, in the case of female cashiers, the boob. It’s impossible to determine what someone’s name is without staring at her boobs.

This wouldn’t bother me so much except, given the close proximity to the university, a good deal of the help is first and second year university students trying to snag a few extra dollars by putting in time at the Safeway. And that means when I am in line running my items through the cash I’m left staring at the boobs of young, fresh, bright, nubile, skin-tight-and-tanned-as-Hollywood young women while I am … not.

I can’t help thinking I seem like a sex-deprived freak stalking the young, at least to those other grocery shoppers in the line behind me.

I mean, the cashier grabs my Safeway and debit card and at the behest of corporate directive refer to me by name. So I am trying to respond in kind. Except to do so I have to gaze like a miner shifting for gold at their boobs.

“Could you move that sweater aside, miss? No, I’m not looking at your left tit. I’m trying to see what your damn name is.”

I really think this is something the corporate world needs to look at. Is there no better way to assign name tags than on the boob? I fear trouble may me a’ brewing.

"I swear to God, I was just trying to see her name! It's Rhonda, isn't? Rhonda! Tell 'em I was just looking at the name tag!!!"

Tag: Shopping, Safeway

A topic for the ages - bathroom literature

Having bored the larger world with scribblings about a Canadian election and hockey, I felt it time to turn to something we all can relate to – bathroom literature.

- What do you read when you’re on the john?

- Does your bathroom have a library?

- Are you concerned the room’s moisture will affect the binding of books or the quality of a treasured magazine’s paper?

Personally, I do NOT keep a bathroom library. I have too much respect for the written word and I’m too well aware of bathroom hazards to keep anything worth reading in there. And if it’s not worth reading, why have it there to begin with?

I usually take books with me when I retire for my daily constitutional (as it’s phrased in some parts of the world). Recently, Julian Barnes has been joining me for my dumps. Mind you, I’m not sure how complimented he would feel knowing this. I don’t think it’s the sort of thing you would want to say to a big name author.

“You know Mr. Barnes, there are no books better than yours for taking a shit.”

If you were a writer, how would that make you feel? I dunno. Maybe it would make your chest swell. But I don’t think so.

The other day, I took a book into the bathroom called Cascading Style Sheets: the Definitive Guide. I confess, I fell asleep on the toilet and … well, I’d rather not get too descriptive. Let’s just say I won’t be reading that book in there again.

But what do you read? Do you read anything at all? I had friends who use to keep piles of Penthouse magazines in their bathroom. I never thought that was a good idea though. The magazines got very “used” very quickly and no one ever came out of the bathroom!

Well, I think this topic is a big improvement over Canadian elections.

The tragedy at the northern end of the QE II

After a brief fling with possibility the Edmonton Oilers are now enjoying the bitter taste of … of … (I can barely bring myself to type it) … defeat at the hands of the Calgary Flames.

I’ve no issues with yesterday’s election. A minority Conservative government might be nice for a change.

But the Oilers losing to the Flames! The tragedy is Shakespearean in its scope.

Alas, the Oilers need goaltending. The Liberal Party of Canada, on the other hand, needs a complete overhaul. Martin ain’t the problem guys; the party is.

And for the majority of people who visit here, to whom all this is as interesting as dried mud (can’t say I blame you), I would have written about something more compelling but I’m pretty brain dead now.

(Note for non-Alberta residents: the QE II, or Queen Elizabeth II highway, formerly known as Highway 2, is the rather straight line running between Calgary and Edmonton, with Red Deer roughly in the middle.)

My obligatory election post

It’s election day in Canada, a topic I’ve avoided discussing in any of my blogs because, as a general rule, I find most online political ramblings to lack anything even remotely approaching objectivity. They’re usually just rants.

Nothing wrong with that, mind you. I rant all the time. But rants are not persuasive and rarely informative. They just kind of tell people what they want to hear.

Anyway … thanks to Bree, I came upon a tool over at The Globe and Mail. It told me where my political leanings were in this election. According to it, I’m an improbable Albertan. Using points, it showed me as:

Liberal: 3
Bloc: 2
Green: 1
NDP: 1
Conservative: 0

Well, I could have told you that. But I suspect that what we’ll end up with is a minority Conservative government.

This election, as almost every election, is not going to be about who wins. It will be about who loses. In this case, it will be the Liberals who lost the election. While western Canada is clearly Conservative (well, Alberta certainly is), I just don’t believe the east actually supports the Tories. They are just sick to death of a cynical Liberal party that puts itself first.

So they’ll get turfed. But who knows? While everyone is predicting a Conservative win, and many a Conservative majority, as the pollsters like to say, Canadian voters can be “volatile.” You can never be sure where we’ll jump.

(And just so you know ... while I'm not a supporter of the Conservatives I'm also not one of those people who think they represent the end of civilization. I like some of their ideas. However, as a general rule, we're not on the same page in the way we see things.)

The 7x7 meme

I done got tagged by Little Man in a Toque. He's a guy from England who has found himself here in Alberta and is trying to make sense of it all. I particularly like this meme because it involves three things I love - Canada, books and movies. So, as this seems to be meme month, here I go:

Seven Things To Do Before I Die:

Take an eating tour of Italy - north to south (or the other way around)
Quit my job
Spend an entire summer on water front property
Laugh till my ribs hurt (haven't laughed that hard in a while)
Skate again on Ottawa's Rideau Canal (hopefully not fall on my ass)
Get drunk in New Orleans
Stay healthy

Seven Things I Cannot Do:

Organize people
Care about corporations
Back flips
Stay off my computer
Stop writing
Play the violin
Feel comfortable in large crowds

Seven Things I Say:

Sort of like
Anyway
Whatever
Kinda
Fuckin' _________ (could be any other word)
Horseshit
I dunno

Seven Books That I Love:

One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Memoirs from Antproof Case - Mark Helprin
Slapstick - Kurt Vonnegut
The Book of the New Sun - Gene Wolfe*
The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
Dhalgren - Samuel R. Delany
The Sotweed Factor - John Barth

* This is actually made up of four books.

Seven Movies That I've Loved (at different times):

My Man Godfrey
Once Upon a Time in the West
Million Dollar Baby
Serenity
Rebecca
Sullivan's Travels
All 3 Indiana Jones movies

Seven Things That Attract Me to...Canada:

The water
The sky
The trees
The people (even the assholes)
The beer
hockey
The cross-bred language - a bit English, a bit American (sofa? couch? chesterfield?)

Seven people to Tag:

I'll have to get back to you on this one. I don't want anyone beating me up.

Liar’s meme

I felt the need to make my own meme. "But what could I do," I wondered. It occured to me that many memes are exercises in honesty. They are ways to tell the world, and maybe yourself, who you are. But being male, honest is the last thing I want to be. So what could I do?

There was really only one way to go. Hence, this meme. The name tells you all you need to know about how it works. (It's also fairly short - always a plus!)

The Liar's Meme

1. Which Hollywood celebrity have you had sex with most often?

Scarlet Johansen.

2. For what is your term as President of the United States best remembered?

I passed a law that made the sale of oil in all its forms illegal and also criminalized the use of motorized vehicles.

3. When you ran for a second term you were rejected by voters primarily for what reason?

I passed a law that made the sale of oil in all its forms illegal and also criminalized the use of motorized vehicles.

4. From what is your fabulous wealth derived?

In my youth, I was a rich man’s catamite.

5. What’s the name of the famous Hollywood movie for which you turned down the lead role?

Home Alone. I felt I was too old.

6. What famous person is your secret illegitimate child?

The Dalai Lama.

7. What do your lovers most admire about you?

I sometimes will use my genitalia as a lariat.

8. If you were an athlete, what sport would you best excel in?

Rhythmic gymnastics.

Tag: Meme, Liar

Bill trivia tips

I have to thank Brooke for directing me to this:

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Bill!

1. Ideally, Bill should be stored on his side at a temperature of 55 degrees.
2. Julius Caesar wore a laurel wreath to cover up Bill.
3. Antarctica is the only continent without Bill.
4. In Vermont, the ratio of cows to Bill is 10:1!
5. Bill was named after Bill the taxi driver in Frank Capra's 'It's a Wonderful Life'!
6. The Asteroid Belt between Mars and Jupiter is made entirely of Bill.
7. It's bad luck for a flag to touch Bill.
8. The international dialling code for Bill is 672!
9. When provoked, Bill will swivel the tip of his abdomen and shoot a jet of boiling chemicals at his attacker!
10. The water in oceans is four times less salty than the water in Bill.

I am interested in - do tell me aboutherhimitthem

Who am I? Don’t ask my iPod

When I put my iPod on Shuffle I get a very confused sense of myself. I may be very old and I may be very young. I may be bipolar but then maybe I’m not. I may have multiple personalities – that’s always a possibility. I may even be a world citizen given some of the “world music” that shows up sometimes.

The iPod starts playing and I hear:

- Bobby Darin
- New Pornographers
- Son House
- Lucinda Williams
- Peggy Lee
- Duke Ellington
- Shaggy
- k-os
- Dean Martin (A Marshmellow World of all things!)
- Goo Goo Dolls
- Conjure One
- Emmylou Harris
- Creedence Clearwater Revival
- Ricki Lee Jones
- Angelique Kidjo
- Avril Lavigne
- Tom Waits
- Shania Twain

And it just goes on. All over the damn map. I remember when I restricted myself to basically bang-your-head–against-the-wall rock bands or those depressing British bands like the Smiths who only sang about the great vale of tears we’re all passing through and how awful it is to be alive.

Now I like a good toe-tapping pop song as much as anything else. And I really like those old cocktail crooners like Dino and Frank. (Sometimes I think I‘ve turned into my mother – she loved those guys, which may be why I like that music now.) So while what you listen to is often a good idication of who you are, often it's not. Life's like that. What is true is not true - all at the same time.

Oh my … and there goes Van Morrison with Wild Night …

The brain's peculiarities

My iPod keeps tossing old Nick Lowe songs into the mix. One of them is Raging Eyes, a very short and very infectious tune from who knows when.

Here's the thing, it's one of those songs that gets in your head and won't leave.

And here's the other thing, in my head it isn't Raging Eyes. It's Raisin Eyes.

"She's got raisin eyes ... Oh, she got raisin eyes!"

So I not only get the song stuck in my head but I also get a picture of a woman with raisins for eyes and it's VERY creepy.

The back end of the brain just operates with a will of it's own. Who ever knows what it's up to? Very puzzling.

The springtime of an apple tree

I don't want to get into a poetry thing but, since The City was a bit grim I thought I should post something by Pablo Neruda, my favourite poet. And so I have. (Though it's not the one I wanted to post - I can't find where I put the book!)

Ode to Sadness

Sadness, scarab
with seven crippled feet,
spiderweb egg,
scramble-brained rat,
bitch's skeleton:
No entry here.
Don't come in.
Go away.
Go back
south with your umbrella,
go back
north with your serpent's teeth.
A poet lives here.
No sadness may
cross this threshold.
Through these windows
comes the breath of the world,
fresh red roses,
flags embroidered with
the victories of the people.
No.
No entry.
Flap
your bat's wings,
I will trample the feathers
that fall from your mantle,
I will sweep the bits and pieces
of your carcass to
the four corners of the wind,
I will wring your neck,
I will stitch your eyelids shut,
I will sew your shroud,
sadness, and bury your rodent bones
beneath the springtime of an apple tree.

- Pablo Neruda -

Tag: Poetry, Neruda

We interrupt this blosphere for poetry

One of my favourite poems is The City, by Cavafy. I've always liked it because, to me, it's about how the problems we bitch and moan about as external to us are not on the outside, but the inside. We are the city:

The City

You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years, and ruined and wasted."

New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life here, in this little corner,
you have destroyed it in the whole world.

Constantine P. Cavafy (1910)

Tag: Poetry, Cavafy

Sean, concerned Seahawk fan

Sean, concerned Seahawk fan

I had to post this.

Sean, concerned Seahawks fan, was anxious in the first quarter. But he need not have worried.

They won.

If I may offer one comment, however ... I absolutely hate the Seattle Seahawks home uniforms. You would think with the cloudy skies and rain they would prefer something that didn't add to the gloom.

Information about me no one needs

I got these questions from Spinning Girl and they seemed like good questions so I answered them. Like her, I added a bonus answer to each of the questions. Let's see what I came up with:

Four jobs you have had in your life:

Radio copywriter/producer/voice
Bookstore manager
Freelance writer
Corporate stooge (as in manager – whatever the hell that means)
+ Surgeon (most amusing since blood makes me faint)

Four movies you could watch over and over (and have):

The Party (Peter Sellers)
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
My Man Godfrey
Once Upon a Time in the West
+ Sin City (Yes, I’m the only person who thought it was ca-ca)

Four places you've lived:

Burlington, Ontario
Toronto, Ontario
Ottawa, Ontario
Edmonton, Alberta
+ in a Pacific Rim brothel

Four TV shows you love to watch:

Firefly
Columbo
Letterman
+ Entertainment Tonight

Four places you've been on vacation:

Maritimes (Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick)
Rimbey, also Caroline, Alberta (vicinity of both - the middle of nothing)
Kaslo, British Columbia
Tobermory, Ontario (I seem to be restricted to Canada)
+ Disneyland

Four websites you visit daily:

Good grief. Better to ask for four I DON’T visit.

Four of your favorite foods:

Raspberries
Raspberry-peach cheesecake
Stuffing – with turkey, mashed potatoes and white wine
Salmon (preferably with little fancy-ass dressing up – just the salmon)
Oysters – especially the ones I use to get at the Mikado in Edmonton
+ cauliflower

Four places you'd rather be right now:

On a beach, late afternoon, waves shushing on the shore
On a beach, late afternoon, waves shushing on the shore
On a beach, late afternoon, waves shushing on the shore
On a beach, late afternoon, waves shushing on the shore
+ in a crowded noisy bar, fucking bass pounding like a hammer

Update: I just had to add this ... I found a little something my personality type (INFP, if you're familiar with the Meyers-Briggs things). One of the things it says is:

"When it comes to the mundane details of life maintenance, INFPs are typically completely unaware of such things. They might go for long periods without noticing a stain on the carpet, but carefully and meticulously brush a speck of dust off of their project booklet."

I howled! You've no idea how dead on that is!

My day takes a not unwelcome left turn

So I went to Purgatorian and saw JJ’s Flashfiction thing and started writing. I’ve got it done, though I haven’t posted it yet. I will eventually.

But it’s one of those cascading things. I realized I was actually writing a story I’d had in my head for quite a long time. (That’s one of the reasons it sort of sucks – it’s all exposition.)

Anyway … it transformed at some point into the beginnings of a screenplay and now I don’t want to do anything except write it because it’s one of those things where one idea triggers another and so on. One of the frustrations, of course, is that the head runs way ahead of the fingers … the typing can’t keep up.

The point is … whatever it was I was planning to do today ain’t getting done because I keep going back to this damn thing.

Of course, this may be another one of those projects that dies on the vine. I’m hoping not, and guessing not since this idea has been kicking around in my head for quite a while.

What makes writing stories interesting, for me at least, is while I know a few things about them, I really don’t know what the story is until it’s written. So writing, for me, is all about discovery.

And it’s kinda cool.

(I’d also like to quit my job now so I can just stay at home and write this. Don’t think that’ll be happening though.)

Tag: Writing

The comfort of blogs

As I post and comment on the Internet it occurs to me that one of the great comforts of blogs is that no one I know in the flesh and blood world actually reads them. Even my cat is indifferent to them, though I've posted the odd rambling about her.

Why is this a comfort?

Because five minutes after I post or comment, I think, "My God! What did I put up there? I sound like an idiot!!!"

The comfort lies in the fact that they'll never see it.

Of course, it's true. I do sound like an idiot. Sometimes I sound like a pontificating idiot. Sometimes I sound a love bereft idiot. Sometimes I sound like an idiot with the political sense of a shoe.

However I do it, I read like a moron ... On the other hand, to those friends who do not go online and read my posts and comments I say, "Well, that's too bad for you. 'Cause idiot or not, that's kinda who I am."

It's the cross I bear. Still, I enjoy the life of being a fool. It has its rewards.

Tag: Blogs, How to become an idiot

I'm a classic martini

Hmm. They tell me I'm a classic martini ...

You area sophisticated drinker, who knows that simple quality is over-rated.

You're a knowledgeable drunk, but sometimes you're a know-it-all when you're blasted.

You should never: Drink and gossip. You tend to forget who's standing right behind you!

Your ideal party: Has a real bartender. But no one mixes a better drink than you.

Your drinking soulmates: those with a Chocolate Martini personality

Your drinking rivals: those with a Margarita Martini personality

What Flavor Martini Are You?

The tale of the Gonzo cat - Part I

Thinking back, I realize she came to me in the worst possible way. By that I mean, strictly speaking, you’re not to do this sort of thing. But years ago (maybe 20?) I came to Edmonton. My friend Helen thought it wasn’t right that I should be alone in a city with family a thousand miles away so, for Christmas, she gave me a kitten.

Gone. (aka Gonzo).

She was a great gift but animals aren't supposed to be gifts. Too many bad things can go wrong. People aren't prepared for them, don't want them, and so on. In this case it went well, but it's not something you should do. But what did we know then?

Gone came from the Edmonton SPCA (now known as the Edmonton Humane Society). Kittens are supposed to be at least 6 to 8 weeks old – something like that – before being given a home.

Gone may have been that old when she came to me but, one of the reasons for them being a certain age before being handed off is they need to be weaned first.

Gone had not been weaned.

If you know me then you know that the idea of me and an unweaned cat is like the set up for a Laurel and Hardy skit. All I knew is I had this kitten that cried all the time and wouldn’t eat.

It was very stressful. For both of us. So I end up taking her to the vet and she tells me the kitten hasn’t been weaned. She might as well have been speaking Latin – what the hell does that mean? What do you mean, “not weaned?” What does “wean” mean?

I soon found out – quite to my alarm. So how the hell am I supposed to feed her?

I honestly don’t remember how it worked out. They gave me something – maybe a large needle type thing (without the actual needle) … I just don’t remember, though I do remember whatever they gave me worked, even if it felt a bit weird feeding a cat that way.

And as it turned out, Gone took things in her own hands and figured out how to eat in a less embarrassing fashion within about a day.

But I think that beginning set the tone for all the years that have followed. Me and Gonzo are just two clowns muddling our way through this fiasco called life without a clue. Not a fucking clue.

We just make it up as we go along.

Soon I will post about Gonzo and the shit gifts. (Yes, shit again. Sorry.)

Tag: Cats, Gonzo, Edmonton Humane Society

I feel like a woman?

You know, I came across a number of blogs that posted the link to What Song Should you Strip Too? Mine was the Divinyls "I Touch Myself" and they said I'm likely already a stripper.

And I started thinking about that and began wondering what kind of stripper I would make?

I decided I would probably be a poor one. Because for some reason I like the idea of taking it off while pretending to be Shania Twain doing, "Man, I Feel Like A Woman."

I always thought that title could be taken two ways, 1) you feel as if you are a woman or, 2) you want sex with a woman.

I opt for the latter. Though I'm sure this picture will reduce my chances.

The world grows dim, I keep watching movies

It may well be the reason my eyes are shot is because I watch so many movies. Well, so it goes.

The world continued to dim in 2005 but as it did I watched a number of films ... on DVD. I generally don't go to a theatre because it tends to be a less than pleasant experience.

Anyway, for whatever it's worth, I posted My Top Ten DVDs of 2005 on my movie blog (The Burble). And it looks like it's pretty evenly divided up between new and old.

And no, Dukes of Hazard didn't make the cut. Can't image why.

Tag: Movies, DVDs, Top DVDs 2005

The meme thing - my two cents

I've been coming across this meme all over the place. I think Spinning Girl was first. Then Brooke had it. Then Sizzle. Not being one to pass up an opportunity to shame myself, I just had to jump in:

[A is for age:]
49. Yes, I’m on the bubble.

[B is for booze of choice]
Where to begin? Gin and tonic (much lime). Red wine. Functional beer. And cosmopolitans, made by me (heavy on the lime).

[C is for career]
Writer. Editor. Stooge.

[D is for your dog's name:]
No dog – cat. Gonzo. Actually, Gone (long story) but that’s such a dumb name I call her Gonzo.

Now, if and when I get a dog (and it may be on the horizon) her name will be Molly Bloom.

[E is for essential items you use everyday:]
In no particular order … coffee, tea, toilet paper, computer, iPod, pants.

[F is for favorite song(s) at the moment:]
Too many to name … but Kate Bush, “Nocturne” would be in there. “Ventura” by Lucinda Williams. “Hope” by Shaggy. “Purple Heather” by Van Morrison.

[G is for favorite games:]
Poker. Hearts. Other card games. And trivia games but only because I usually do pretty well with them. Not a big game fan.

[H is for hometown:]
Edmonton, Alberta. Previously, Ottawa, Ontario. (Yes, both are in Canada.)

[I is for instruments you play:]
None. I just listen. Though years ago I did study classical guitar.

[J is for jam or jelly you like:]
Black Currant! Although homemade strawberry jam and croissants, with Earl Grey tea is spiffy!

[K is for kids?]
None. Well, four if you include sponsored ones in countries that have names that are hard to pronounce.

[L is for last kiss?:]
Somewhere around Christmas I suppose, not so much erotic as it was friendly. Does that count?

[M is for most admired trait:]
Humour? That’s a guess. How the hell are you supposed to answer something like this? “I’m a really warm person with a heart of gold and lasso-like penis – and I have no ego!” Really, you don’t ask someone what their best trait is. Better to ask what their worst is. Now THAT would be interesting!

[N is for name of your crush:]
Maria Mariano. UPDATE!: I thought it said first crush. Well, Maria is long gone from my life. I was probably 7 years old at the time. Current? Good grief … I dunno. But that Felicity Huffman is kinda fetching.

[O is for overnight hospital stays:]
None overnight, but I have spent some time during daylight hours.

[P is for phobias:]
Where to begin? Liking someone more than they like me or, conversely, having someone like me more than I like them.

[Q is for quotes you like:]
"Passion alone is a remedy against boredom." - Donald Sutherland

"There are no ghosts, only people who are not real." - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

[R is for biggest regret:]
I’ll have to get back to you on this one.

[S is for sweets of your choice:]
Not a big fan of sweets. Let’s talk cashews.

[T is for time you wake up:]
All over the map these days. When I’m back on track … maybe 7:00 a.m.?

[U is for underwear:]
Yes, what about it? I learned years ago that underwear is a must when I did up my fly rather more quickly than I should have. I damn near ripped my penis right off! And I howled!!!!!!

[V is for vegetables you love:]
I prefer fruit, but if you insist … I like standards like corn, peas, lettuce, tomatoes.

[W is for worst habit:]
Procrastination, indecision, playing with my hair – that’s three!

[X is for x-rays you've had:]
Mouth (dental), chest.

[Y is for yummy food you make:]
As mentioned, my cosmopolitan kicks – is a cocktail a food? Long ago I made an absolutely fabulous apricot lamb pilaf. Unfortunately, I learned afterwards I hate apricot lamb pilaf. But I’m great at making it!

[Z is for zodiac sign:]
The goat (hence goatboy) – Capricorn. But I am approaching Aquarius, just about on the cusp, which probably explains why I’m screwed up.

Tag: How to become an idiot

Internally disrupted

My internal clock is totally out of whack. Not that it's ever in whack, but I'm more screwed up than normal these days. I blame it on the time of year and the weather.

Time was (no pun intended), I woke up at 6:00 a.m. and jumped out of bed with the blush of the new day. Birds twittered and somewhere I think Pat Boone was singing. I could be wrong about that.

These days, I'm dragging my ass out of bed between 8:00 and 9:00 ... and on weekends, as late as 11:00.

On the other hand, I'm WIDE awake at midnight and 1:00 a.m., when I should be shuffling off to Buffalo, as they say. Yes, I'm right well buggered up these days.

As I write this, I'm thinking I should be going to bed. Eventually, I will.

For the love of Mike, where's the damn sun these days!!!????

Building character through personal trauma

It's quite amazing how easy this stop smoking thing is. I'm much more calm and even-tempered than I thought I would be.

Yes, there's a real sense of serenity that has descended upon me, like veils of good will dropped like love missives from the heavens.

And sure, I dream about smoking and experience feelings of guilt and anxiety as I do so, and yes there is a certain twitch I've acquired in my left eye and, yes, the cat has been forced to flee beneath the bed and my flatware is pretty much all shattered, but on the whole I feel fine.

(That was convincing, wasn't it?)

Tag: Smoking, Stop Smoking

Midnight musings - I am not dreaming

I am WIDE AWAKE now. I slept in very late today, and that's a bad thing. Well, not so bad at the beginning of the day when I'm luxuriating in bed with the fact I don't have to be anywhere, see anyone or do anything I don't want to.

Unfortunately, today I didn't want to do anything. So I did nada. Zilch. And now,as the clock moves past midnight, my eyes are as open as a strawdog victim on a Halloween movie. My brain is racing at speeds beyond the capacity of mortal humans to measure ... and I don't wanna go to bed 'cause I know I won't fall asleep for another six hours or so.

My personal clock is majorly fucked up. Why does every good thing (like sleeping in) have a codicil that screws you up?

I need a cigarette. Oh, wait a moment. I can't have one!!!

Tag: Insomnia, Sleepless, Smoking, Stop Smoking

Twitchy man tackles task

I’m kinda groggy and sleepy this morning and I’m wondering, “Did I really agree to that?” And the answer is yes, I did, and I should probably explain.

I don’t remember the last time I did something that was difficult. It was probably years ago when I wrote a novel. I challenged myself to write one just to see if I could. As it turns out, I can. I didn’t want to set my sights too high though so the challenge was simply to write one – get a big pile of paper with at least 60,000 words that had at least some sort of coherent narrative flow.

I probably should have made the challenge a bit more specific and said “write a good novel,” since the result of it all was a piece of crap. But it was a novel! And I wrote it!

The $1,000 challenge

It’s more than time to accomplish something else. If only to convince myself I’ve not turned into some kind of human slug that is simply existing on the planet for no reason other than to exist.

So last night I made an agreement with my friend Liz, who was feeling merry at her sister’s place in New York, her sister Michael-Ann who was three sheets to the wind at the time of the call. I think it must have been about three in the morning there when we spoke.

This little challenge came up over Christmas when Liz and I spoke about it but didn’t follow up. Last night, we did.

And the challenge?

It’s a bet, actually. If I don’t smoke for six months, Liz gives me a grand. If I do smoke, I pay her a grand.

Why would I agree to such a thing? I really do want to quit. I’ve tried many times before. This time, quite apart from the health consequences, I want failure to have a bite to it. A $1,000 bite.

You may wonder why I smoke at all and I wonder that myself – often. I think it’s a combination of the addiction and the fact I really do like it. If you don’t smoke, or never have, that second reason may be incomprehensible. But it’s a reality – I really, really do like smoking.

I’m also one of those people who is … uh, twitchy? I can’t sit still. When I do, one of my legs is usually going up and down like a jackrabbit’s thumping hindquarters. At work, I can’t sit at my desk for more than 20 minutes before I’m up and walking over to someone else’s desk to ask them something. Yes, I could call them, e-mail or IM … but if I did, I wouldn’t have an excuse to get up and move around.

Smoking is a part of that twitchiness. It gives me something to do. I also drink all day long. No, not booze … I mean I really am constantly sipping on something. You can usually tell what time of day it is by what I’m drinking. Coffee? Must be morning. Water? Must be midday. Tea? Looks like it’s late afternoon. Beer? Ah, it’s early evening. Wine? Dinnertime! Tea? Hmm … not late afternoon – must be late in the evening!

I rarely guzzle, by the way. I sip. Well, except for water. I’ll guzzle that some times.

Anyway … One of the biggest problems I’ve had with trying to stop smoking in the past is the twitchiness. I think it’s got something to do with my metabolism. I remember once asking a doctor how I could gain weight and he just laughed at me and said, “You couldn’t gain weight if you tried! You just burn everything up.”

So … that $1,000 is done simply to increase the reasons for stopping. Not that there aren’t a lot of damn good reasons already. But maybe something as banal as a fairly hefty financial consequence will help me over the wall.

And I really do want to accomplish something that is very, very difficult. It’s more than time.

(You know, maybe I should write a book … “The Twitchy Way to a New Slender You.” There might be money in that.)

Tag: New Year, 2006, Smoking, Stop Smoking, How to become an idiot

What was I thinking?

We're roughly 50 minutes into the new year (Mountain Time) and here is my first post of 2006 ...

It's New Year's Eve and I just made a resolution that, if I don't follow through, will cost me $1,000.

Why on earth would I do that? Well, I'll explain that tomorrow. For now I'm just shaking my head and wondering - what was I thinking?

Actually, I know what I was thinking. But it's too late to go into that now. Let's just say I wanted to make sure I followed through on this resolution - even though as a general rule I don't believe in New Year's resolutions.

Tag: How to become an idiot