Saturday, November 29, 2003
blather
It's been a long time since I had such a good time with such good company. G and I, along with his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend, went to the Shamrock (eep!), Woody's (in a search for some of the kids) and the Whiskey (which I haven't been to since 'Concrete Blonde' last winter). Although I didn't do any dancing, it was wonderful fun and good conversation. I do so love visits from G. I always forget how much I miss falling asleep with someone's arms around me. Well, other than my own or the dog's, of course.I ran into the guy who used to live across the hall. Strange little fella, he is. With a girl I apparantly should have remembered as she was going on about how much better she liked my hair it's natural color. He's in a constant rant about his psycho girlfriends and was beyond pissed off last year when one of them suggested that it may be him that had the problems. I concur. But good for some entertainment.
So much fun that I don't even mind that I lost my cell phone. I'd taken it out of it's case and put it in my purse and being so little and slippy it must have slid it's way out the gap in a long-awaited and oft dreamed-of bid for freedom. The lady at AT&T said I should wait a couple days, see if it shows up, but it's safe in the arms of another, presumably someone at the Shamrock. It's not coming home - frankly, given the type of bar the 'ol Rock is, I don't think much survives the experience intact. I'll miss all the numbers and funny nicknames I had programmed into it (Girth, Junebug) but since I'd actually completed my initial 2 year commitment *gasp*, I can upgrade to a nifty new one for shipping charges only. Once I get around to picking the one I want. I find myself unaccountably torn between flip-phone and speakerphone options. And, yes, mon partenaire, I checked and they just don't 'do' free long distance up here in Alberty, land of the oil and chinooks.
Some large hulking guy in a suit standing beside me kept doing the nudge and it took me a few moments to recognize John, part of a group of friends I don't see often and an old neighbor. He always had the most beautiful hair (there's that hair envy rearing it's ugly head again) which is now completely gone as of three weeks ago. I had to keep touching it to make sure it was really gone. And in a suit, no less. When he's always been the type of guy who looks a bit scruffy. And a little heavier than he used to be.
I've always had the biggest crush on John. Every year at the Superbowl party he shows up with the most gorgeous model-like women and stands about with a beer in his hand looking ultra-aloof, unattainable and wonderful. He seemed quite upset that I hadn't gone to the party last year, which made me wonder a bit.
Since I'd had enough Sols by the end of the night to 'throw caution to the winds' I asked him to dance the last slow dance with me, during which I told him how much of a crush I'd always had on him. Then, got the hell out of there, before he could have possibly reacted to that in any way, positive or negative.
But, you plant your seeds where and when you can, I reckon.
Day 52 v.2
Friday, November 28, 2003
random gestures in the direction of others
Sometimes I wake up in the morning and try to find some little thing I can do that day to make someone at work laugh. They're usually pretty stressed and spreading a little joy is a good thing. The other day in digging through my storage stuff, I found a vintage t-shirt that someone bought me, I don't remember who, I think it may have been SD...anyways, Denver Broncos. So, I threw it on. It being casual Friday and all. I walk in and the Denver fan immediately gets this huge smile and we get into a discussion about the shirt (it's the 'old' logo) and the team and, our hero, Elway (one of his kids is named after a NFL player, really). Later he came to me and said, "I'm glad you wore that shirt today, every time I see you, I feel happy."My work here is done. Too bad I can't just go home.
I went shopping at lunch to use the gift certificates. Bra shopping, to be exact. Since I haven't since the surgery in Sept '02. I've just been wearing sports bras. Anyways, having no idea what I ended up as, other than 'smaller', and knowing only that the last instructions to the surgeon before passing out were: "less is more", it was a bit disconcerting to learn I was an 'A'. And very weird. Considering I was 12 the last time I was that size. Little bras are so pret-ty though, aren't they?
Ooo, ooo and I bought book number 10 of the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan. Bliss!
Day 51 v.2
Acelin @ 6:14AM | 2003-12-01| Oy... book 10. You are a braver, or possibly more masochistic person than I. I got to book 5, finished it, and realized I would never be able to claw back the time spent reading it. He should have stopped at a trilogy.
Thursday, November 27, 2003
lesson learned
We must not confuse hate with anger.Anger is a sign that we are alive and well. Hate is a sign that we are sick and need to be healed.
Healthy anger drives us to do something to change what makes us angry; anger can move us towards making things better.
Hate does not want to change things for the better; it wants to make things worse.
Sometimes, the sudden realization that what you thought all along was anger is really hatred can be a little disconcerting. And a mighty fine line to walk.
In other news....board meeting tonight. Looking forward to seeing the way the personalities work with the new people. No, really I am. Takes the heat off me - especially since the management company identified me as the 'bully' during introductions at the AGM. (C - treasurer, P - president, J - bully). I guess that's to be expected when you're the only one that ever speaks up but it'll be nice to relax and see how the new kids do tonight. There's a lot of anger in our building.
Anger *is* the word of the day isn't it? In regards to the building, I'm just frustrated. It's been a productive day, the blurb above is really just a realization, a bulb going on, an epiphany, a reminder for a 'work on that' bullet.
Plans to meet G tomorrow night after the plane lands *safe flight, big fella*. Shopping with 'P the belly' tomorrow to spend my giftie certificate before it expires next month. Birthday cake a couple hours ago has worn...me...out. zzzzzzzz......
Day 50 v.2
Wednesday, November 26, 2003
winter's over...
...for now, at least in the background. I'm tired of looking at it. Would rather be at the river.Labyrinthman @ 2:35AM | 2003-11-28| Winter's never over. Even when its summer... its just a reminder that winter is only a short time away. Don't mind me, off to go beat my brains out with a snow shovel. ;)
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
this, that and t'other thing
Cause I'm really trying to put off doing what I should be doing right now.Under the dual headings of being the last to know and one of the few things I've thrown out but shouldn't have Calgary bar allows customers to use Canadian Tire money.
Under the right back to childhood heading, Polly Horvath has just recently won the US National Book Award, for her children's novel, "The Canning Season". She lives in Metchosin, BC. Which is where I lived on the farm and coincidentally, where they shut down my elementary school last year, at which one of the teachers actually nicknamed me "8675" in 1980, which leads me to Cingular's new commercial, "867-5309". Sheesh. (don't try to follow the logic, it's 'special'.)
My logo from the band sweatshirt (remember those funky late-80's color schemes?)...Their logo was styled after graffiti on a wall - original concept, I know. The back says "guitar tech".
The band's poster...
From the left, clockwise - Little Dickie Downs on bass, PJ (Paul) frontman and singer, Mike the lead singer, Chris the spastic drummer and Rob the english lead guitarist.
And, last but not least, so Derrick no longer feels left out (although, I feel impelled to point out that he wasn't around in this time period but in 1992, instead) the semaphore sweatshirt with that damn 'chick' word he's still so insanely fond of.
And don't even think about asking what sort of 80's hair I had going on back then. (didn't I just say not to do that?) I used to wear spandex mini-skirts though (I shudder, really I do). Anyways, I find it helpful for me to be able to place a frame of reference around stuff, and now, so can you.
dinner...
is something made with eggs. And whatever else I can find in the fridge. Cause I'm too damn lazy to walk 30 feet to the Super Drug Mart. I'm thinking I may go the 'appetizer' route. Cause I have all that damn good spice from New Orleans.Nuttall *is* going to Blue Rodeo on NY Eve so I've bailed, no desire to see them. The Tomato offered tickets to Tom Cochrane but is entertaining clients that night so I've bailed on that too. I think I may just be able to get away with the office party (which should be a total blast, on the 6th) and the 12 Hours of Christmas, on the 19th - a tradition, and a damn good one at that.
And G's here this weekend. *waving*
I spent a lot of time in the bat cave (it really is pretty dark in there) today saying, "That's not my job." Until someone finally snapped and yelled, "What the hell do you do anyways?" "Well, shit, I don't know but someone HIRED me to do it!" *snicker*
Missing work yesterday just totally threw off my groove.
They cleaned the carpets on the weekend and I walked in this morning thinking what a mess it was. I think that the machine probably leaked and every time the guy moved it, it's left a 8 inch round stain on the carpet. Every 6 feet or so. Everywhere. I made a comment that it looked like a herd of puppies had been through the place and then spent the day being subjected to T1 (my VP) pretending to pee on the floor.
Then they got into their 'flying for business' stories. I laughed until I cried at the one about the 'eccentric millionaire' beside T1 on a flight that had a separate seat (in business class, no less) for a big teddy bear. One of the stewardesses went to move it and he stood up and yelled, "I paid for his seat, don't touch him!" And he really had paid for the bear to have it's own seat.
There were the emails discussing what they'd do to the guy who's on vacation. Poor little SD, he's had to cancel his vacation three times, his house got cleaned out two days before he left and he was so stressed out I swear he would lock himself in his office and cry. Cooler heads (mine) did not prevail, and on Friday they're drywalling his office shut.
Until I have enough stuff to link to for the "this time last year", I'll just be randomly injecting it into posts, although (and mon partenaire should be able to back this up *glare - it's rel-a-tive*) the end of the weenor saga had signalled the beginning of a pretty quiet time for me, this is the final portion of the story started below....
Alone, blessedly quiet and still for the first time in what feels like an age.
We are problem-solving creatures, and sometimes when no problems exist, we create some so we have somthing to solve. Because if we didn't, we would be forced to confront the echoing stillness beneath all the noise and confusion, which was terrifying because it was unfamiliar. But it only seems like emptiness at first. Eventually, gradually, you realize it is everything.
Tuning the radio to something worldless and slow, opening the window and wrapping up in a comforter with a mug of gently steaming rea. Still as a mouse, leisurely drifting in and out, savoring the absence of others. Just for an hour, under the surface, dreaming, floating through a delectably lazy time, free of all woes, saturated with a sense of voluptuous irresponsibility. Then slowly, emerging into wakefulness again.
Nothing jars my slow ascent back into the world. When I finally urge myself into a sitting position, gingerly setting my feet on the floor and running my fingers through my matted hair, it feels almost like a crime.
And then I smile, because I'm home again.
Monday, November 24, 2003
oops
I blame it all on daytime tv. I really do.It seemed like a good idea to dig through some of my stuff from storage. And, man, I can't believe the stuff I've kept. I've got an entire bag of bar coasters. I'm serious. Letters and cards from people who I have absolutely no recollection of. My memory has always been sub par, but....
And this, written on a bar napkin, by Colleen. Which made me laugh so hard the dog started looking concerned....
Hallowed be thy name is Rob
Thy pail come
Thy castle will be done
Carlton Club be thy name.
Give us this day our daily pail
Lead us not into temptation
Forgive those who try to outdrink us
For thine is the castle, the drink and the hangover
Forever and ever, amen.
I'm assuming the bartender's name was Rob at that time and they had $6.95 buckets of Long Island Ice Teas, so the deal was to drink enough pails to build a good sized sand castle, before walking the breakwater. You know, I still have about 10 of the damn things. I keep nails and tealights in them in the cupboards.
I should send that to her. Although I probably won't.
I also found a lot of the band stuff, but strangely only the one letter from Paul from the Yellowknife trip. Sent in May 1989 (and added to soundbites for keeping). So long ago. And a letter from Rich in Jan of 1993 that said that - sans Paul - they'd been recording. If there was any other way to get Rich's number than to call Paul, I would, I'd give a toe or two to have a copy of that recording.
Well, I managed to hurt my back somehow yesterday. So, I'm just back from being pounded to death at the massagists (is that a word?) and sitting drinking lots of water before heading off for a hot bath.
In the continuing saga of my previous workplace, after it taking 15 months to wrestle my pension from them (after being told repeatedly I didn't have a pension), and my bank 'forgetting' to tell me the money had arrived Oct 20th, I have finally made an appointment to go in and decide what to do with it. I'd very much love to have it. In my hot little hand. But, alas, the powers that be have decreed that it is uncashable and must be locked in elsewhere. But where? A quick scoot through a banking site has convinced me only that it's all too hopelessly confusing. The best I could figure was a GIC. For the longest term they've got. I mean, it's not like I can touch it until I retire anyways...... Anyone got any other suggestions?
And, not being able to sleep last night, I *did* get up and look for Paul on the internet. His address is listed as 'bsmt'. That makes me wonder if he's still married. I mean, after 9 years of marriage, wouldn't you be living in a house of your own? The impulse to call is very strong, now that he's on my mind. Maybe I'd better go lay down after that bath.
Ahh, my player just switched over to 'Dreamweaver'. I love that song.
And, to my intense dismay, it looks like Life in the Hard Shoulder has packed it in. I'm leaving him in my blogroll though, just in case.
Day 47 v.2
Sunday, November 23, 2003
the past scampers like an alleycat...
You know, I was reading sassy the other day and she had written this. I like it. In fact, I like everything that she writes. And it made me reflect a little on some of my own 'wonder abouts', a little bit, before I moved on to something else.As I'm flipping through channels tonight, I come across a movie called, "The Princess Bride", and all of a sudden, I'm right smack dab in the middle late 1989. Just like that.
One night in 1988, my friend Sharon and I had gone to our local dive of a bar. It was called Champs back in those days- the kind of place that had concrete floors, bad bands and cheap drinks. When there was fight, no one moved back to get out of the way, they just merrily jumped right in. (it was one of those nights when I got my mug shot, but that's another story). We were there on a Wednesday night, which was 99 cent tequila night, and the bass player in the band, "Final Cut", was cute. We stayed after to talk to them, and so began a long friendship with all of them. They were just a shitty bar band, they travelled all over BC playing in the worst bars and we would travel about with them. Those horrible hotel rooms, even more horrible bars and the inevitable fights and pranks between 6 completely different guys truly did comprise a golden time that we never even realized we were in. My friends ended up dating or sleeping with different band members, but the frontman/second guitar/singer - Paul - and I were a little world unto ourselves. We never slept together and I remember at that point in my life, everything I did was designed to test his 'love' for me. To this day, I don't doubt that he loved me but I'm still not sure how I felt about him.
They had gone up to Yellowknife for a show and had gotten trapped there (something to do with an ice bridge) and Melissa and I concocted a grand plan. Paul had written me a song while he was there, called 'Blue Shadow' - (the recording of which -at their final show- has long since been stolen and the words lost in the mists of time and faulty memory), and I had missed him terribly. We arranged to stay at his parent's house in North Vancouver and went out to the airport to surprise them.
He didn't look terribly happy to see me. And the other band members were doing those looks and giggles that boys do when they're in the middle of something uncomfortable. You see, there'd been a girl that got off the plane with them. It took them a while to tell me that she'd been with Paul the whole time in Yellowknife. I thought of all the letters he'd written me, and the song and it was such a shock, I couldn't even react for days.
Paul and the girl were all set to go their seperate ways and he and I tried hard to recapture that golden, innocent time before I went back over to the island. But it was not to be and not so long after the band played their final show and it was all over.
I kept in touch with 'little Dickie Downs' and 'the dad' (Jerry, the sound guy) for a few years after that, but the last I've seen or heard from any of them was just after I moved here. Jerry, who was working with Rocky Mountain Sound, came here to do the sound for Moist and Rhymes with Orange in the summer of 1997. That was the last time. Rich had told me that Paul got married and worked in his father's landscaping business sometime around 1994. I've never tried to contact Paul just because some things are better left alone and after so many years, the memories should stay just the way they are, I think.
I wrote something in 1992 about how those familiar songs they used to play would never be 'just another song on the radio' and that I hoped that in 10 or 20 years I would remember and feel all those same familiar things. "Mercury Blues" and "Five Long Years" still bring a smile to my face as I sing along in my mind, hearing the lyrics that they'd changed to suit their "guitar tech" as they used to call me so they could bring me up on stage and thank me at the end of the show. I still have the sweatshirt they made for me, all these years later, it's never been worn but sometimes I take it out and sit smiling like a fool for a little while before putting it away again.
I actually called Jerry's number and looked for Rich on the internet tonight in a small bid to hear one of their voices again but too much time has passed and they've moved on or away to other things, as have I.
"The Princess Bride" was Paul's favorite movie and the first time I ever watched it, was with him.
All of the people in my life then, are no longer in my life now. And honestly, I don't wonder about any of them. Except Paul.
Day 46 v.2
