Good Friday... But I'm at work!
We voted to take Monday off instead of Friday, but with the beautiful weather outside today, I'm wondering if that was such a good idea. Maybe I'll go take a wee stroll this afternoon and get some sun.
So tonight I've got a party to go to at Jane's place (there'll be three bloggers there: myself, Jane, and Paul the Scot). I'll be dateless, I'm afraid, mainly because I just didn't get around to inviting anyone to come with me. Jane's a kooky girl, so I'm sure we'll all be suitably entertained. Maybe I'll even try my hand at Karaoke (Tom Jones!).
I'll be spending Easter weekend with the folks and visiting family and friends. Easter's a good time to socialize with folks you don't see often enough. I hope you enjoy your holiday weekend!
Thursday, March 28, 2002
Noooooo thanks... I'll walk!
With Dudley Moore's passing yesterday, I'm reminded of an interview he did on Oprah a few years ago. He was saying that, as a young lad, his mum used to refer to his privates as his "ticket".
Consequently, the young Dudley Moore developped an acute aversion to public transit when he heard the driver needed to "Punch his ticket".
After the roar of laughter from the studio audience died down, someone cried out from the back "So... you've got a ticket to ride, do you?" Dudley cracked up at that point. Now I can't help but think of that moment whenever his name comes up.
With Dudley Moore's passing yesterday, I'm reminded of an interview he did on Oprah a few years ago. He was saying that, as a young lad, his mum used to refer to his privates as his "ticket".
Consequently, the young Dudley Moore developped an acute aversion to public transit when he heard the driver needed to "Punch his ticket".
After the roar of laughter from the studio audience died down, someone cried out from the back "So... you've got a ticket to ride, do you?" Dudley cracked up at that point. Now I can't help but think of that moment whenever his name comes up.
Wednesday, March 27, 2002
It's a quiet day
Not much going on today, so I'll just present to you some of the odd places I've been to on the web.
Not much going on today, so I'll just present to you some of the odd places I've been to on the web.
- The Silophone: a grain elevator in Montreal coverted into a echo-chamber in which you can play virtually any sound you wish.
- Kite Aerial Photophraphy
- Ghost Photography
- Montreal International Celtic Festival
- Ninjai: The Little Ninja
- The Demotivator Collection
Tuesday, March 26, 2002
Life is so fragile
I just attended funeral services for Eric Diehl, a man I had never met but wished I had. Eric was the father of my friend Annika and he died suddenly of a heart attack last week. Right out of the blue... dead at 60.
The service was filled with laughter and tears as friends and family told stories about their lives with Eric and how he brightened their worlds. He was a friend to anyone, loved by many, and missed by all who knew him. I never knew him, but I miss him already! I hope I'll be remembered with as much affection when I shrug off my mortal coil.
There were poems read, music played, and songs sung to his memory. One of the poems stuck in my mind, especially since it had brought tears to my eyes when it was read. So I'd like to reprint it here and dedicate it to the memory of Eric Diehl, husband to Barbara and loving father to Annika and Rebecca. Enjoy your journey to the Summerland.
I just attended funeral services for Eric Diehl, a man I had never met but wished I had. Eric was the father of my friend Annika and he died suddenly of a heart attack last week. Right out of the blue... dead at 60.
The service was filled with laughter and tears as friends and family told stories about their lives with Eric and how he brightened their worlds. He was a friend to anyone, loved by many, and missed by all who knew him. I never knew him, but I miss him already! I hope I'll be remembered with as much affection when I shrug off my mortal coil.
There were poems read, music played, and songs sung to his memory. One of the poems stuck in my mind, especially since it had brought tears to my eyes when it was read. So I'd like to reprint it here and dedicate it to the memory of Eric Diehl, husband to Barbara and loving father to Annika and Rebecca. Enjoy your journey to the Summerland.
- Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep...
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush
I am the swift, uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I'm my own worst enemy
Note to self: if you intend to go work-out and you must go home for some reason (like yesterday I forgot my sneakers), don't make supper first and think that you'll go and work-out afterwards.
This just means that you won't go and work-out at all. You know it. I know it. You lazy bum. Bad lazy bum!
I can't go tonight, but I'll definitely go tomorrow. Must. not. lose. momentum.
Note to self: if you intend to go work-out and you must go home for some reason (like yesterday I forgot my sneakers), don't make supper first and think that you'll go and work-out afterwards.
This just means that you won't go and work-out at all. You know it. I know it. You lazy bum. Bad lazy bum!
I can't go tonight, but I'll definitely go tomorrow. Must. not. lose. momentum.
Monday, March 25, 2002
SWEEEEP! HAAARRRRDDD!
It was a big ol' weekend of curling, it was!
On Friday, I went on a date with Mary-Ellen (kind of a blind date) to see Men with Brooms at the Paramount and then we went for a couple of pints at the Old Dublin. We drank, chatted, and enjoyed some general flirting, and I even enjoyed a sweet kiss at the end of it. A good first date!
There might be a second date, but I'm not sure. These things can be so tricky. Well... even if there's no second date, the first date was enjoyable (although there were a few awkward silences), so it was a success. Go me!
As for the curling thing, Men with Brooms was a fantastic movie (as you've no doubt heard). Looking back now, my only criticism would be that the script was a bit weak. Paul Gross acted, wrote, directed, and did some of the music. Maybe he should've just written it and found someone else to direct it. He may have spread himself a bit too thin on this project. But no matter... it's still a great movie and I'll probably get it on DVD when it comes out. If you go see it, stay and watch the credits so see the bloopers and out-takes.
And then, just to come full circle, I went curling with my old Toon Boom buddies at the Outremont Curling Club. I had never curled before, so I was really looking forward to this experience. It turns out that one of the Toon Boomers, Serge, had curled when he was a teenager so he knew enough about the game to teach the rest of us plebes.
My first few attempts at throwing the rock mostly ended up with me spinning on my back like a beetle. I would use the broom to balance myself, but also the rock (a no-no for reason that will soon become obvious). As soon as I released the rock, my granite crutch would be gone and I'd flip onto my back, legs flailing uselessly in the frigid arena air.
But our two teams weren't too bad! After a few ends (periods, innings), we started to be able to throw the stones so that they ended up in the house, meaning we had to start discussing strategy. It's in the strategy that the true magic of curling comes through. Chess on ice, I tell you.
By the end of the two hours, I was just starting to get the hang of it. It's a really cool sport! I'll have to get a few people together and give it another try sometime. Francois G. should be putting his pictures up from that event, so I'll post them here as soon as I get them.
It was a big ol' weekend of curling, it was!
On Friday, I went on a date with Mary-Ellen (kind of a blind date) to see Men with Brooms at the Paramount and then we went for a couple of pints at the Old Dublin. We drank, chatted, and enjoyed some general flirting, and I even enjoyed a sweet kiss at the end of it. A good first date!
There might be a second date, but I'm not sure. These things can be so tricky. Well... even if there's no second date, the first date was enjoyable (although there were a few awkward silences), so it was a success. Go me!
As for the curling thing, Men with Brooms was a fantastic movie (as you've no doubt heard). Looking back now, my only criticism would be that the script was a bit weak. Paul Gross acted, wrote, directed, and did some of the music. Maybe he should've just written it and found someone else to direct it. He may have spread himself a bit too thin on this project. But no matter... it's still a great movie and I'll probably get it on DVD when it comes out. If you go see it, stay and watch the credits so see the bloopers and out-takes.
And then, just to come full circle, I went curling with my old Toon Boom buddies at the Outremont Curling Club. I had never curled before, so I was really looking forward to this experience. It turns out that one of the Toon Boomers, Serge, had curled when he was a teenager so he knew enough about the game to teach the rest of us plebes.
My first few attempts at throwing the rock mostly ended up with me spinning on my back like a beetle. I would use the broom to balance myself, but also the rock (a no-no for reason that will soon become obvious). As soon as I released the rock, my granite crutch would be gone and I'd flip onto my back, legs flailing uselessly in the frigid arena air.
But our two teams weren't too bad! After a few ends (periods, innings), we started to be able to throw the stones so that they ended up in the house, meaning we had to start discussing strategy. It's in the strategy that the true magic of curling comes through. Chess on ice, I tell you.
By the end of the two hours, I was just starting to get the hang of it. It's a really cool sport! I'll have to get a few people together and give it another try sometime. Francois G. should be putting his pictures up from that event, so I'll post them here as soon as I get them.
Friday, March 22, 2002
Hobbes ol' buddy... It's a Wonderful World, alright
One of the greatest comic strips of all time... *sniff*
 | You are Civilian Calvin! You don't get to travel much outside your neighborhood, but you still manage to get in plenty of trouble. When you're not acting up, you like to wax philosophical. Take the What Calvin are You? Quiz by contessina_2000@yahoo.com! |
One of the greatest comic strips of all time... *sniff*
Mr. Pagan International
Yours truly is in the running to secure the Mr. Pagan International Beauty Contest! If I win, I promise to align the cosmos, lower the boiling point of water, and single-handedly bring about world peace (while cooking-up a mean chocolate soufflé).
But I can't do any of that without you! To vote for me, you need to send an email to Unicorn and say your voting for Hobbes (jdhobbes@hotmail) as Mr. Pagan International. You can also click on the purple graphic on the right and view the other contestants, but you'll soon agree that I'm the clear winner by far (if for nothing but my humble attitude). Just in terms of score, I'm in second place!
Vote early... vote often! Vote for me!
Yours truly is in the running to secure the Mr. Pagan International Beauty Contest! If I win, I promise to align the cosmos, lower the boiling point of water, and single-handedly bring about world peace (while cooking-up a mean chocolate soufflé).
But I can't do any of that without you! To vote for me, you need to send an email to Unicorn and say your voting for Hobbes (jdhobbes@hotmail) as Mr. Pagan International. You can also click on the purple graphic on the right and view the other contestants, but you'll soon agree that I'm the clear winner by far (if for nothing but my humble attitude). Just in terms of score, I'm in second place!
Vote early... vote often! Vote for me!
Thursday, March 21, 2002
Now this is an odd coinky-dink...
Or is Pope John Paul II a blog fanatic? Was today's Pooh Log post a catalyst to much discussion in the Vatican?
Who knows what will happen when they read about Bill's Orgasmic Sneeze attacks, Jane's alcoholic abuses, tbit's unnatural obsession for farm animals, or Blork's Sexy Nylons.
Never let it be said that the Pooh Logs were not the centre of scandal and general mayhem in the world!
And that's just the way we likes it, we does.
Or is Pope John Paul II a blog fanatic? Was today's Pooh Log post a catalyst to much discussion in the Vatican?
Who knows what will happen when they read about Bill's Orgasmic Sneeze attacks, Jane's alcoholic abuses, tbit's unnatural obsession for farm animals, or Blork's Sexy Nylons.
Never let it be said that the Pooh Logs were not the centre of scandal and general mayhem in the world!
And that's just the way we likes it, we does.
Hit the showers young man... I'll be right with you in a sec
The worst thing is I think I had something like this when I was a kid. I think it was something like Jesus riding in a boat with a young boy. Ye Gods...
Thanks to Dorothy for the find. She finds the weirdest stuff.
Happy Ostara (first day of spring) everyone! Don't let the snow get you down folks... I predict we'll get one more big storm in April that will melt away quickly and then spring will really start to ... um... spring. up. Y'know...
Sheesh... And to think I write for a living...
The worst thing is I think I had something like this when I was a kid. I think it was something like Jesus riding in a boat with a young boy. Ye Gods...
Thanks to Dorothy for the find. She finds the weirdest stuff.
Happy Ostara (first day of spring) everyone! Don't let the snow get you down folks... I predict we'll get one more big storm in April that will melt away quickly and then spring will really start to ... um... spring. up. Y'know...
Sheesh... And to think I write for a living...
Wednesday, March 20, 2002
Speaking of which...
I've always toyed with the thought of getting a tattoo and while I was waiting for Janice to finish with hers, it gave me a chance to look at designs. This Hobbes tattoo is one I've been thinking about for awhile.
But that might be a better second tattoo (since it is pretty elaborate and big). I saw a really nice Raven tattoo at the shop, which is a very powerful storyteller's symbol. Maybe I'll try to design something using a raven symbol and some celtic knotwork. That would be a good first one since it would be smaller and simpler..
So where would I put these tattoos? On my forehead, of course! Actually, I would probably put them on my arms at the shoulder level. That would make it easier for me to see and easy to show others.
I know... I'm such a badass...
I've always toyed with the thought of getting a tattoo and while I was waiting for Janice to finish with hers, it gave me a chance to look at designs. This Hobbes tattoo is one I've been thinking about for awhile.
But that might be a better second tattoo (since it is pretty elaborate and big). I saw a really nice Raven tattoo at the shop, which is a very powerful storyteller's symbol. Maybe I'll try to design something using a raven symbol and some celtic knotwork. That would be a good first one since it would be smaller and simpler..
So where would I put these tattoos? On my forehead, of course! Actually, I would probably put them on my arms at the shoulder level. That would make it easier for me to see and easy to show others.
I know... I'm such a badass...
Bzzzt!
The dating scene is truly bizarre and always lands me in the weirdest places. Last Saturday's coffee date with Janice transformed itself into an afternoon at the Tattoo Parlour. That's a new one for the books!
Janice was getting her second tattoo which was a beautiful Celtic Cross (her first one was a unicorn). I had never seen a tattoo being applied, so it was interesting to watch. It was supposed to be finished by 3 pm, but we didn't get out of there until 6 pm (I took a walk around the neighborhood (Ontario/Cartier) for an hour at one point).
Montreal's a weird place when it comes to shops. Instead of finding a location that doesn't have product competition, shop owners seem to setup the same kind of shops all around each other. For 6 blocks in the East/West direction around Ontario/Cartier, you can't swing an unblemished part of your bod without poking into a tattoo artist's vibrating needle of inky goodness. There must be about a 7 tattoo parlours virtually next to each other in this place.
The same holds true for parts of Little Burgandy and St. Henri. There are Antique Shops and Junk dealors sandwiched together for blocks. Did they all arrive on the same day (July 1st), only realizing their real estate mistake when they started tacking up their signs?
Weird. It must be a retail thing.
Anyways, after Janice's tattoo experience was done, we went for dinner at Mexicalli Rosas and then to McKibbons to take in some of the St. Patrick's Day festivities. We stayed out rather late that night, so she crashed at my place that night. *cough* We hooked up with Ken, Andrew, and the gang at Brutopia the next day and watched the parade.
All in all, a great first date that got started off with a unique type of beginning. Oooooh... I've had some pretty disastrous first dates in my day, one of them directly involving Antonio Sabato Jr. Does this kind of stuff happen to anyone else?
Currently Reading: Father Ted-- The Complete Scripts
I finally broke down and ordered the book from Amazon.co.uk since I couldn't get it from any of the local bookshops. It's fantastic! I used to watch Father Ted on CBC whenever I could. Here's an exchange that had me burst out laughing in the metro:
The dating scene is truly bizarre and always lands me in the weirdest places. Last Saturday's coffee date with Janice transformed itself into an afternoon at the Tattoo Parlour. That's a new one for the books!
Janice was getting her second tattoo which was a beautiful Celtic Cross (her first one was a unicorn). I had never seen a tattoo being applied, so it was interesting to watch. It was supposed to be finished by 3 pm, but we didn't get out of there until 6 pm (I took a walk around the neighborhood (Ontario/Cartier) for an hour at one point).
Montreal's a weird place when it comes to shops. Instead of finding a location that doesn't have product competition, shop owners seem to setup the same kind of shops all around each other. For 6 blocks in the East/West direction around Ontario/Cartier, you can't swing an unblemished part of your bod without poking into a tattoo artist's vibrating needle of inky goodness. There must be about a 7 tattoo parlours virtually next to each other in this place.
The same holds true for parts of Little Burgandy and St. Henri. There are Antique Shops and Junk dealors sandwiched together for blocks. Did they all arrive on the same day (July 1st), only realizing their real estate mistake when they started tacking up their signs?
Weird. It must be a retail thing.
Anyways, after Janice's tattoo experience was done, we went for dinner at Mexicalli Rosas and then to McKibbons to take in some of the St. Patrick's Day festivities. We stayed out rather late that night, so she crashed at my place that night. *cough* We hooked up with Ken, Andrew, and the gang at Brutopia the next day and watched the parade.
All in all, a great first date that got started off with a unique type of beginning. Oooooh... I've had some pretty disastrous first dates in my day, one of them directly involving Antonio Sabato Jr. Does this kind of stuff happen to anyone else?
Currently Reading: Father Ted-- The Complete Scripts
I finally broke down and ordered the book from Amazon.co.uk since I couldn't get it from any of the local bookshops. It's fantastic! I used to watch Father Ted on CBC whenever I could. Here's an exchange that had me burst out laughing in the metro:
Ted (holding up small plastic cow figurines): Okay... one last time. These cows are small, but those cows (pointing out the window) are far away. Get it?
Dougal (blank stare): I don't get it.
Tuesday, March 19, 2002
What we're really celebrating
I've been spending the last three weeks trying to explain to people what St. Patrick's Day is all about. Ceri expressed her views on St. Patrick's Day on her blog and what she said pretty much sums up the attitude I've been hearing. St. Patrick's Day is just an excuse to drink and it's about a bunch of people pretending to be something they're not.
Wearing green does not make you Irish. Listening to musicians playing tin whistles does not make you Irish. Drinking copious amounts of Guinness does not make you Irish. But what you can do is take on the best parts of being Irish and, in the process, celebrate yourself and your place in this world.
To understand this, let's take a quick look at the Irish and their historical culture. The Irish are a proud people who live their lives to extremes. They have extremely proud religious heritage. They have extreme politics. They party at an extreme level. They are extremely passionate about sport and competition. They are extremely proud, taking the good with the bad. The global Irish consciousness has its volume control set to 11 all the time. Sometimes this can be a good thing, sometimes this can be a tragic thing.
St. Patrick's Day is about celebrating the best parts of who you are and where you're from. It's about taking the best parts of yourself and your heritage and saying "I'm proud of who I am and I want to share that with the world". Saying that you're Irish for one day means that you can tap into that fierce pride of the Irish and, for that day, you can flaunt the best parts of yourself and feel good about it. You can forget all the other complications of your life and take a moment to appreciate your place in this world, your place in other people's lives, and (hopefully) realize how incredibly cool you are.
Several times during the Sunday celebrations, I took a step back and looked around. It was a beautiful day in Montreal. Everyone was celebrating and happy to be alive. I took a look at my entourage. There were my buddies from Toon Boom who I still keep in touch with. There was my cousin (who has been my best friend since we were both 6 years old) and his family. There was my buddy Ken who I've been friends with for the past 16 years. There was my new friend Janice who was visiting from Baie Comeau. There were my close friends Pam and Peter who I've both known for about five years. I took that moment in and thought "I'm living a pretty cool life. It's a beautiful day and I'm very lucky."
The truth of the matter is that you don't have to drink (to excess) on St. Patrick's Day. You don't have to wear green. You don't have to listen to Irish music. These are all just things to make people feel part of something larger than they are; it's a way to belong. The need for people to belong is something very basic to human nature, no matter how much we try to ween it out of our mainstream individualistic society.
It's like when the Canadian Women's and Men's Hockey teams won Olympic gold. We don't know the atheletes and until Canada was poised to have a chance at winning the gold medal, many of us weren't really following it. But when the two hockey teams brought home the Gold medal in Hockey, we were all Canadian, we all belonged. It mattered suddenly and we celebrated it, as if we had won the Gold medal ourselves. That kind of pride is nothing to dismiss. It's important and it feels great, even if it involves a certain amount of delusion.
You can call all this a rationalization if you want. I went out on Sunday and indulged. I lived the day to an extreme, just like I do every year at this time. I met a great bunch of people, listening to wonderful music, and connected with a great many friends. You can say that St. Patrick's Day is nothing but an excuse for an alcohol-induced sense of self-worth. You can also reduce Yule to presents, Easter to chocolate, and your birthday to just another random day in the calendar year.
But as human beings, we have this need to mark special days with some kind of celebration, be it quiet or loud. Just because a celebration draws some comercial attention, that doesn't need to detract from its meaning. It's up to you to find the meaning behind the special day, so if you can find it, celebrate it, and in doing so, celebrate yourself.
You are cooler than you think. Take a moment, raise a pint to honour yourself, and I'll be right there to join you.
I've been spending the last three weeks trying to explain to people what St. Patrick's Day is all about. Ceri expressed her views on St. Patrick's Day on her blog and what she said pretty much sums up the attitude I've been hearing. St. Patrick's Day is just an excuse to drink and it's about a bunch of people pretending to be something they're not.
Wearing green does not make you Irish. Listening to musicians playing tin whistles does not make you Irish. Drinking copious amounts of Guinness does not make you Irish. But what you can do is take on the best parts of being Irish and, in the process, celebrate yourself and your place in this world.
To understand this, let's take a quick look at the Irish and their historical culture. The Irish are a proud people who live their lives to extremes. They have extremely proud religious heritage. They have extreme politics. They party at an extreme level. They are extremely passionate about sport and competition. They are extremely proud, taking the good with the bad. The global Irish consciousness has its volume control set to 11 all the time. Sometimes this can be a good thing, sometimes this can be a tragic thing.
St. Patrick's Day is about celebrating the best parts of who you are and where you're from. It's about taking the best parts of yourself and your heritage and saying "I'm proud of who I am and I want to share that with the world". Saying that you're Irish for one day means that you can tap into that fierce pride of the Irish and, for that day, you can flaunt the best parts of yourself and feel good about it. You can forget all the other complications of your life and take a moment to appreciate your place in this world, your place in other people's lives, and (hopefully) realize how incredibly cool you are.
Several times during the Sunday celebrations, I took a step back and looked around. It was a beautiful day in Montreal. Everyone was celebrating and happy to be alive. I took a look at my entourage. There were my buddies from Toon Boom who I still keep in touch with. There was my cousin (who has been my best friend since we were both 6 years old) and his family. There was my buddy Ken who I've been friends with for the past 16 years. There was my new friend Janice who was visiting from Baie Comeau. There were my close friends Pam and Peter who I've both known for about five years. I took that moment in and thought "I'm living a pretty cool life. It's a beautiful day and I'm very lucky."
The truth of the matter is that you don't have to drink (to excess) on St. Patrick's Day. You don't have to wear green. You don't have to listen to Irish music. These are all just things to make people feel part of something larger than they are; it's a way to belong. The need for people to belong is something very basic to human nature, no matter how much we try to ween it out of our mainstream individualistic society.
It's like when the Canadian Women's and Men's Hockey teams won Olympic gold. We don't know the atheletes and until Canada was poised to have a chance at winning the gold medal, many of us weren't really following it. But when the two hockey teams brought home the Gold medal in Hockey, we were all Canadian, we all belonged. It mattered suddenly and we celebrated it, as if we had won the Gold medal ourselves. That kind of pride is nothing to dismiss. It's important and it feels great, even if it involves a certain amount of delusion.
You can call all this a rationalization if you want. I went out on Sunday and indulged. I lived the day to an extreme, just like I do every year at this time. I met a great bunch of people, listening to wonderful music, and connected with a great many friends. You can say that St. Patrick's Day is nothing but an excuse for an alcohol-induced sense of self-worth. You can also reduce Yule to presents, Easter to chocolate, and your birthday to just another random day in the calendar year.
But as human beings, we have this need to mark special days with some kind of celebration, be it quiet or loud. Just because a celebration draws some comercial attention, that doesn't need to detract from its meaning. It's up to you to find the meaning behind the special day, so if you can find it, celebrate it, and in doing so, celebrate yourself.
You are cooler than you think. Take a moment, raise a pint to honour yourself, and I'll be right there to join you.
Friday, March 15, 2002
Friday Five, four-leaf clovers, and green beer
Bless me Lucky Charms... It's time for the Friday Five from Smattering!
1. What's your favorite animal? With the advent of Crocodile Hunter, I have so many favorite animals! But the ones that facinate me the most have always been sea creatures like sharks, whales, and dolphins.
2. What pets have you had in your lifetime? Not counting a multitude of goldfish, I've had two turtles (Wade and Ezmerellda) and two cats (Edison and Newton).
3. Is there any specific pet that you've wanted but never had? Why? I've always wanted to have a dog (like a Labrador, a Husky, or a Mini-Schnauser), but I won't get a dog like that unless I live in a house with plenty of land for the hound to run in and have a person stay at home to give him the attention he needs (it really is like having a child).
4. Are you allergic to any animals? Even though I have a cat, I'm slightly allergic to cats. I've gotten used to my cat, but every once in awhile, my allergies act up. Other than that, I don't really have any other problems.
5. Do you have any 'pet' pet peeves (your pets or others')? I hate it when my cat knocks stuff over. It's like I can't have anything nice that's not made of rubber or concrete! Argh! Other than that, Newton is an angel.
Bless me Lucky Charms... It's time for the Friday Five from Smattering!
1. What's your favorite animal? With the advent of Crocodile Hunter, I have so many favorite animals! But the ones that facinate me the most have always been sea creatures like sharks, whales, and dolphins.
2. What pets have you had in your lifetime? Not counting a multitude of goldfish, I've had two turtles (Wade and Ezmerellda) and two cats (Edison and Newton).
3. Is there any specific pet that you've wanted but never had? Why? I've always wanted to have a dog (like a Labrador, a Husky, or a Mini-Schnauser), but I won't get a dog like that unless I live in a house with plenty of land for the hound to run in and have a person stay at home to give him the attention he needs (it really is like having a child).
4. Are you allergic to any animals? Even though I have a cat, I'm slightly allergic to cats. I've gotten used to my cat, but every once in awhile, my allergies act up. Other than that, I don't really have any other problems.
5. Do you have any 'pet' pet peeves (your pets or others')? I hate it when my cat knocks stuff over. It's like I can't have anything nice that's not made of rubber or concrete! Argh! Other than that, Newton is an angel.
Thursday, March 14, 2002
Blork gets Caught in the High Seat
So we were at the STC Executive meeting last night, (bloggers included Steve the prez, Blork the Webguy, and me the Minute-taker). When the meeting was over, we all piled into H's car and started to head home. Steve sat in front and Blork and I piled into the back seat. However, there was a childseat in the backseat, so instead of sitting next to it, Blork plonked his butt right into the child seat.
Suprisingly, Blork settled in quite comfortably in the seat, which either means that H's kid has a thyroid problem or Blork's butt is not as big as previously believed.
While Steve regaled use with a classy tale of D predicting that he was about to be laid-off, Blork was hanging on to the childseat for dear life, trying to keep his cranium from bursting through the top of the car (Montreal potholes... treacherous).
When we got to Blork's stop, he said his good-byes and then started struggling with the door. After a few seconds of pushing, pulling, yanking, and cursing softly in Latin, H spoke up and said something like "Drat... I've got the child-proof locks on. I'll have to open it from the outside."
This seemed to deflate Blork completely while Steve and I did very bad jobs at trying to stiffle our sniggers.
[BTW, I tried all of yesterday to post this. Stupid Blogger.]
So we were at the STC Executive meeting last night, (bloggers included Steve the prez, Blork the Webguy, and me the Minute-taker). When the meeting was over, we all piled into H's car and started to head home. Steve sat in front and Blork and I piled into the back seat. However, there was a childseat in the backseat, so instead of sitting next to it, Blork plonked his butt right into the child seat.
Suprisingly, Blork settled in quite comfortably in the seat, which either means that H's kid has a thyroid problem or Blork's butt is not as big as previously believed.
While Steve regaled use with a classy tale of D predicting that he was about to be laid-off, Blork was hanging on to the childseat for dear life, trying to keep his cranium from bursting through the top of the car (Montreal potholes... treacherous).
When we got to Blork's stop, he said his good-byes and then started struggling with the door. After a few seconds of pushing, pulling, yanking, and cursing softly in Latin, H spoke up and said something like "Drat... I've got the child-proof locks on. I'll have to open it from the outside."
This seemed to deflate Blork completely while Steve and I did very bad jobs at trying to stiffle our sniggers.
[BTW, I tried all of yesterday to post this. Stupid Blogger.]
Wednesday, March 13, 2002
Flabio gets in Shape Part V
I'm slowly making progress folks! My New Year's resolution is still holding strong: I'm still making it to the YMCA once or twice a week and the results are starting to show. I've had to put two extra holes in my belts to keep my pants secure, so that's an encouraging sign.
I haven't weighed myself yet, but that's because I realize that the scales can be deceiving, especially since muscle weighs more than fat.
Another thing I've noticed is that I've been able to add more weight to my exercises than when I started. More progress! Go me! My workout program consists of doing three sets on each machine with 12 reps each. Here's how that breaks down:
Sure, I'm getting into this workout routine to lose some weight. But when I lose that weight and get into better shape, I'll be able to do more physical activities that I really do enjoy like cycling, white-water kayaking, swimming, wind-surfing, and skiing (alpine and X-country). Since I've put on all this weight, those sports have been more difficult to enjoy.
I'm slowly making progress folks! My New Year's resolution is still holding strong: I'm still making it to the YMCA once or twice a week and the results are starting to show. I've had to put two extra holes in my belts to keep my pants secure, so that's an encouraging sign.
I haven't weighed myself yet, but that's because I realize that the scales can be deceiving, especially since muscle weighs more than fat.
Another thing I've noticed is that I've been able to add more weight to my exercises than when I started. More progress! Go me! My workout program consists of doing three sets on each machine with 12 reps each. Here's how that breaks down:
- Lat Pulldown: 75 lbs
- Leg Press: 180 lbs
- Bicep Curl: 30 lbs
- Leg Curl: 50 lbs
- Forearm Extension: 75 lbs
- Leg Extension: 90 lbs
- Ankle Press: 160 lbs
- Sit-ups: 60 reps (x 3)
Sure, I'm getting into this workout routine to lose some weight. But when I lose that weight and get into better shape, I'll be able to do more physical activities that I really do enjoy like cycling, white-water kayaking, swimming, wind-surfing, and skiing (alpine and X-country). Since I've put on all this weight, those sports have been more difficult to enjoy.
Tuesday, March 12, 2002
The Morning After the Supper Before
On Sunday, I had two parties in my pad. Two parties. On the same day! Crazy!
I had my pagan study group come by for a breakfast/discussion (the nature of the Gods/Godesses) from 10 to noon. Since we were all anxious to get discussing stuff, the breakfast wasn't as complicated as the last time. Mostly bagels, cream cheese, tea, coffee, and OJ.
Once they left, I had to start cooking 'cause my play-reading group was coming over at 3 pm. Since I was hosting this party, I decided I would make something from scratch (instead of buying something pre-made). Since there are a few vegetarians in the group, I decided upon a mushroom and bean chilli served on a bed of rice.
I've been living alone for 3 years now and I've gotten out of the habit of cooking, since I'm only cooking for myself. But when I get a chance to cook for others, I really like getting into it. In the end, the dish was a huge success. Actually, the play was fantastic and all the dishes the folks brought were delish. This play-reading group has been meeting for about five years and it's a fantastic bunch of people.
But now I've got dish galore to clean. This dinner party used up every dish I had in the cupboards! I did one load last night and I've got another load to do tonight. Yikes!
Still... it was worth it. I need to have more dinner parties. They're lots of fun.
On Sunday, I had two parties in my pad. Two parties. On the same day! Crazy!
I had my pagan study group come by for a breakfast/discussion (the nature of the Gods/Godesses) from 10 to noon. Since we were all anxious to get discussing stuff, the breakfast wasn't as complicated as the last time. Mostly bagels, cream cheese, tea, coffee, and OJ.
Once they left, I had to start cooking 'cause my play-reading group was coming over at 3 pm. Since I was hosting this party, I decided I would make something from scratch (instead of buying something pre-made). Since there are a few vegetarians in the group, I decided upon a mushroom and bean chilli served on a bed of rice.
I've been living alone for 3 years now and I've gotten out of the habit of cooking, since I'm only cooking for myself. But when I get a chance to cook for others, I really like getting into it. In the end, the dish was a huge success. Actually, the play was fantastic and all the dishes the folks brought were delish. This play-reading group has been meeting for about five years and it's a fantastic bunch of people.
But now I've got dish galore to clean. This dinner party used up every dish I had in the cupboards! I did one load last night and I've got another load to do tonight. Yikes!
Still... it was worth it. I need to have more dinner parties. They're lots of fun.
Monday, March 11, 2002
Memorials for events we can't forget
The subtext to all these online test is that I'm trying not to think about what happened 6 months ago.
I lit my candles this morning as I watched the new Mayor of New York launched the September 11th Memorial. It almost made me late for work, but it was something I had to do. I resolved not to think about it today and just stay focussed on what I had to do, but I still felt shaken and weak all day.
Then, at the end of the day, I read the blog entries for two New York residents Bad Samaritan and Miss B. Bad move 'cause now I'm all weepy. Argh.
Last night on CBS, they had a special on the attacks called 9|11 which feature a film on NY firefighters being made my two French filmmakers. These are the filmmakers that caught the first plane that smacked into Tower 1 on tape. These two cameramen ended up going to the Twin Towers with all the firefighters and filmed them as they coordinated the rescue attempt.
The creepiest part of that documentary was when all the firefighters were in the lobby, waiting for their instructions, with looks of extreme fear and sadness in their eyes. Every couple of minutes, there would be a tremendous crash that would cause everyone to jump in fright. The crashes sounded like automobiles being dropped from a great height. I was half-right.
Knowing how this would end, I thought this was the sound of the second plane hitting Tower 2, or maybe it would be the first sounds of the towers crumbling. But no... it was much worse. The tremendous crashing noises were made from the people who were jumping from the towers and crashing to the ground just outside the lobby. Every crash meant that someone just lost a life.
Throughout this show, I kept whispering "getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout", forgetting that the two filmmakers must have made it out alive to be able to narrate this show afterwards.
I'll be lighting candles again when I get home.
The subtext to all these online test is that I'm trying not to think about what happened 6 months ago.
I lit my candles this morning as I watched the new Mayor of New York launched the September 11th Memorial. It almost made me late for work, but it was something I had to do. I resolved not to think about it today and just stay focussed on what I had to do, but I still felt shaken and weak all day.
Then, at the end of the day, I read the blog entries for two New York residents Bad Samaritan and Miss B. Bad move 'cause now I'm all weepy. Argh.
Last night on CBS, they had a special on the attacks called 9|11 which feature a film on NY firefighters being made my two French filmmakers. These are the filmmakers that caught the first plane that smacked into Tower 1 on tape. These two cameramen ended up going to the Twin Towers with all the firefighters and filmed them as they coordinated the rescue attempt.
The creepiest part of that documentary was when all the firefighters were in the lobby, waiting for their instructions, with looks of extreme fear and sadness in their eyes. Every couple of minutes, there would be a tremendous crash that would cause everyone to jump in fright. The crashes sounded like automobiles being dropped from a great height. I was half-right.
Knowing how this would end, I thought this was the sound of the second plane hitting Tower 2, or maybe it would be the first sounds of the towers crumbling. But no... it was much worse. The tremendous crashing noises were made from the people who were jumping from the towers and crashing to the ground just outside the lobby. Every crash meant that someone just lost a life.
Throughout this show, I kept whispering "getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout", forgetting that the two filmmakers must have made it out alive to be able to narrate this show afterwards.
I'll be lighting candles again when I get home.
Don't Worry... Monday Madness is almost over
 I am Mario.I like to jump around, and would lead a fairly serene and aimless existence if it weren't for my friends always getting into trouble. I love to help out, even when it puts me at risk. I seem to make friends with people who just can't stay out of trouble. What Video Game Character Are You? |
Monday Online Test Madness
Which tarot card are you?
Find out what kind of driver you are!
And today is the 6 month mark to the end the earth stood still and the twin towers fell in New York. Wow... I can't believe it's been 6 months already.
Which tarot card are you?
Find out what kind of driver you are!
And today is the 6 month mark to the end the earth stood still and the twin towers fell in New York. Wow... I can't believe it's been 6 months already.
Friday, March 08, 2002
Women who star with Men with Brooms
Men with Brooms is premiering tonight and I'm either going to see it tonight or tomorrow night.
But right off the bat, I would like to say that I have the nastiest crush on Molly Parker. I've been holding a Molly Parkerian torch ever since I clapped eyes on her when she did Twitch City with Don McKellar. Hooooo doggies!
A few weeks ago, I met a girl at a birthday party who I though actually was Molly Parker for a minute (it was just enough to get me all flustered and shy). I didn't get a chance to speak with her then, but I'm hoping I'll get another chance soon.
Ooooh la la! Ain't crushes grand?
Men with Brooms is premiering tonight and I'm either going to see it tonight or tomorrow night.
But right off the bat, I would like to say that I have the nastiest crush on Molly Parker. I've been holding a Molly Parkerian torch ever since I clapped eyes on her when she did Twitch City with Don McKellar. Hooooo doggies!
A few weeks ago, I met a girl at a birthday party who I though actually was Molly Parker for a minute (it was just enough to get me all flustered and shy). I didn't get a chance to speak with her then, but I'm hoping I'll get another chance soon.
Ooooh la la! Ain't crushes grand?
Friday Five: The Sequel
Ye Gods... The Friday Five from Smattering rears it's ugly head once again!
1. What makes you homesick? The first signs of each season in the year: the first snow, the first thaw, the first warm, sunny day, the first bright orange leaf I see.
2. Where is "home" for you? Ste. Foy, Quebec (a 'burb about 10 minutes east of Quebec city).
3. What makes it home for you? People? Things? Mostly my parents, since they still live there. I'm not sure how I'll feel about the place after they pass on (which is hopefully a long way off).
4. Where is the furthest you've been from home, miles-wise? The fartest I've been is Ireland when I went to visit my sister in Galway.
5. What are your plans for this weekend? Saturday is still pretty free, but I'll probably be cleaning, shopping, and cooking. I'm receiving some people for a breakfast/discussion group on Sunday morning and then others at 3 pm for a play reading and a pot luck supper. I think I'll be making a vegetarian chilli as my contribution to that supper.
Ye Gods... The Friday Five from Smattering rears it's ugly head once again!
1. What makes you homesick? The first signs of each season in the year: the first snow, the first thaw, the first warm, sunny day, the first bright orange leaf I see.
2. Where is "home" for you? Ste. Foy, Quebec (a 'burb about 10 minutes east of Quebec city).
3. What makes it home for you? People? Things? Mostly my parents, since they still live there. I'm not sure how I'll feel about the place after they pass on (which is hopefully a long way off).
4. Where is the furthest you've been from home, miles-wise? The fartest I've been is Ireland when I went to visit my sister in Galway.
5. What are your plans for this weekend? Saturday is still pretty free, but I'll probably be cleaning, shopping, and cooking. I'm receiving some people for a breakfast/discussion group on Sunday morning and then others at 3 pm for a play reading and a pot luck supper. I think I'll be making a vegetarian chilli as my contribution to that supper.
Theatrical News
Well... It looks like I'll be directing a Neil Simon play in the spring.
I had submitted a play by Colleen Curran called El Clavadista (the cliff diver), but the prudes at the Lakeshore Players decided it was too "fringey" (they thought the ending was too strong).
So the board suggested that I do a scene from Neil Simon's Plaza Suite. I read it this morning and, in classic Neil Simon style, it involves one neurotic father and a more-or-less passive mother trying to coax their soon-to-be wed daughter out of the bathroom and into the church.
I'm waffling on whether to do it or not. It'll be fun to direct this play, but I'm dissappointed that Lakeshore Players refuses to do something a bit more edgey. Then again, the Producer is begging me to direct this play since the last two plays I directed were huge hits with the crowd. I won't lie to you... it's flattering.
I could use the experience and I do enjoy the process, so I guess I'll do it. The curtains go up on this play in mid-June so mark it on our calendars, Poohbians!
In other theatrical news, I've been awarded the role of Dr. Watson in the Midnight Players production of Sherlock Holmes: The Hound of the Baskervilles. This is a radio drama performance that will be ultimately recorded to a CD. I've done two other shows with the Midnight Players: one was reading a radio drama live in front of an audience, and the second was playing Bob Cratchit in Dickens' A Christmas Carol performed live over the airwaves in Kingston on 99.7 FM.
And that's it for Poohbah News. We now return you to your regularly scheduled ritualistic pistol-whippings.
Well... It looks like I'll be directing a Neil Simon play in the spring.
I had submitted a play by Colleen Curran called El Clavadista (the cliff diver), but the prudes at the Lakeshore Players decided it was too "fringey" (they thought the ending was too strong).
So the board suggested that I do a scene from Neil Simon's Plaza Suite. I read it this morning and, in classic Neil Simon style, it involves one neurotic father and a more-or-less passive mother trying to coax their soon-to-be wed daughter out of the bathroom and into the church.
I'm waffling on whether to do it or not. It'll be fun to direct this play, but I'm dissappointed that Lakeshore Players refuses to do something a bit more edgey. Then again, the Producer is begging me to direct this play since the last two plays I directed were huge hits with the crowd. I won't lie to you... it's flattering.
I could use the experience and I do enjoy the process, so I guess I'll do it. The curtains go up on this play in mid-June so mark it on our calendars, Poohbians!
In other theatrical news, I've been awarded the role of Dr. Watson in the Midnight Players production of Sherlock Holmes: The Hound of the Baskervilles. This is a radio drama performance that will be ultimately recorded to a CD. I've done two other shows with the Midnight Players: one was reading a radio drama live in front of an audience, and the second was playing Bob Cratchit in Dickens' A Christmas Carol performed live over the airwaves in Kingston on 99.7 FM.
And that's it for Poohbah News. We now return you to your regularly scheduled ritualistic pistol-whippings.
Wednesday, March 06, 2002
Meter Maid Madness
I was just popping over to the food court to pick-up some lunch (I really need to stop doing this and bring salads to work-- bad for the waist), when I crossed a red pick-up truck parked in front of an expired park-o-meter.
Normally, if I've got a spare quarter and I notice someone's run out of time, I'll give them an extra ten minutes. I drove a car for long enough to know that park-o-meters never run at the same time as the rest of the world, so I'm just levelling out the playing field.
Anyhoo... this guy was out of time and out of luck 'cause he already got caught. The funny thing was that the new parking ticket was placed on the windshield right above three *other* parking tickets clearly visible underneath the windshield.
It's times like these that I really wish I had a Digital Camera. This is the kind of scene that doesn't merit a whole film processing thing, but just a quick digital snap would be just the thing.
Need to start saving up! Of course, I'll never get to have enough moola to get a digital camera if I keep buying stuff like this on the web.
I was just popping over to the food court to pick-up some lunch (I really need to stop doing this and bring salads to work-- bad for the waist), when I crossed a red pick-up truck parked in front of an expired park-o-meter.
Normally, if I've got a spare quarter and I notice someone's run out of time, I'll give them an extra ten minutes. I drove a car for long enough to know that park-o-meters never run at the same time as the rest of the world, so I'm just levelling out the playing field.
Anyhoo... this guy was out of time and out of luck 'cause he already got caught. The funny thing was that the new parking ticket was placed on the windshield right above three *other* parking tickets clearly visible underneath the windshield.
It's times like these that I really wish I had a Digital Camera. This is the kind of scene that doesn't merit a whole film processing thing, but just a quick digital snap would be just the thing.
Need to start saving up! Of course, I'll never get to have enough moola to get a digital camera if I keep buying stuff like this on the web.
Brains... Meow... Brains...
I swear, sometimes my kitty Newton stares at me like this. He'll sit atop my comfy chair and just... stare... at me with a frightening intensity. Then suddenly, he'll just bolt from the room and tear around like a crazy person.
Is Newton just a closet Mittens? Scary.
(snagged from Mellow Kitty)
I swear, sometimes my kitty Newton stares at me like this. He'll sit atop my comfy chair and just... stare... at me with a frightening intensity. Then suddenly, he'll just bolt from the room and tear around like a crazy person.
Is Newton just a closet Mittens? Scary.
(snagged from Mellow Kitty)
Tuesday, March 05, 2002
Just gimme a second to clear my head...
Last night, I fell asleep on the couch after watching the latest episode of Angel (when my kitty Newton falls asleep on my lap, I'm usually not far behind). I must've slept there for a couple of hours when I finally woke up again and realized that I was not in my bed. Then I sat up and made my way back to bed, wondering why Angel and Wes didn't wake me first before they decided to go off and fight demons. The nerve of those two!
Those first few minutes out of sleep are really confusing. It's a strange mesh of what I was dreaming about and what's actually going on. I've been told by girlfriends (and other occasional nighttime visitors) that it's actually quite funny how I'll converse with them with this seemingly Otherworldly Knowledge (which is a really cool rephrasing of the more commonly used term: Brain Fog).
As I try to explain this person what I'm talking about, the Brain Fog slowly clears out (and I start to really wake up) and what I'm saying will begin to make less and less sense to me until I stand there completely bamboozled.
Thoroughly embarrassed, I usually mutter "Never mind... Sorry." and turn over and get back to sleep.
And just never you mind what I've been caught doing while sleepwalking. Hooooooooo doggies...
Last night, I fell asleep on the couch after watching the latest episode of Angel (when my kitty Newton falls asleep on my lap, I'm usually not far behind). I must've slept there for a couple of hours when I finally woke up again and realized that I was not in my bed. Then I sat up and made my way back to bed, wondering why Angel and Wes didn't wake me first before they decided to go off and fight demons. The nerve of those two!
Those first few minutes out of sleep are really confusing. It's a strange mesh of what I was dreaming about and what's actually going on. I've been told by girlfriends (and other occasional nighttime visitors) that it's actually quite funny how I'll converse with them with this seemingly Otherworldly Knowledge (which is a really cool rephrasing of the more commonly used term: Brain Fog).
As I try to explain this person what I'm talking about, the Brain Fog slowly clears out (and I start to really wake up) and what I'm saying will begin to make less and less sense to me until I stand there completely bamboozled.
Thoroughly embarrassed, I usually mutter "Never mind... Sorry." and turn over and get back to sleep.
And just never you mind what I've been caught doing while sleepwalking. Hooooooooo doggies...
Monday, March 04, 2002
Stupdendous Man to the rescue!
My friends C and S are having a super-hero party in May and I've been wracking my brains to come up with a good costume. I'm tempted to go as a bottle of Listerine with my date being The Evil Gingivitis, but as funny as that would be, I'm afraid someone else might come up with it.
I haven't discarded that idea completely, but I'm also thinking I might come to the party dressed as the wise-cracking, hip DC superhero Starman (aka Jack Knight).
The costume would be pretty simple: leather jacket with zodiac star symbol on the back, green-tinted goggles, a star rod, and a sheriff-style star badge. Then I would need to find a suitably loud hawaiian shirt and maybe I'll get an Henna tatoo made with the star symbol.
Actually, the star rod would be the most difficult thing to find, especially since I'd probably have to make it myself. And it would need to glow.
Hmmmm... still thinking then. In that vein, check out the Hero Machine and design your own sooperhero (thanks to Dorothy for the link!)!
My friends C and S are having a super-hero party in May and I've been wracking my brains to come up with a good costume. I'm tempted to go as a bottle of Listerine with my date being The Evil Gingivitis, but as funny as that would be, I'm afraid someone else might come up with it.
I haven't discarded that idea completely, but I'm also thinking I might come to the party dressed as the wise-cracking, hip DC superhero Starman (aka Jack Knight).
The costume would be pretty simple: leather jacket with zodiac star symbol on the back, green-tinted goggles, a star rod, and a sheriff-style star badge. Then I would need to find a suitably loud hawaiian shirt and maybe I'll get an Henna tatoo made with the star symbol.
Actually, the star rod would be the most difficult thing to find, especially since I'd probably have to make it myself. And it would need to glow.
Hmmmm... still thinking then. In that vein, check out the Hero Machine and design your own sooperhero (thanks to Dorothy for the link!)!
A Weekend of tea, yellowing pages, and PJs
I spent most of this weekend indoors, cleaning, tidying, and just having some good quality time in my pad. I spend so much of my life running around from place to place, event to event, it's nice to be able to just kick back and be surrounded by my things.
I actually have a gaggle of neat things in my home. I've always been attracted to the rare, bizarre, and unusual. And I love antiques! One of my favorite ways to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon is rooting through junk shops, hunting for treasures. I try to stay out of Antique shops 'cause the stuff in there is just too polished, too nice, and overpriced.
Used bookstores are also right up there with junk shops. On rainy Sundays, you'll find me prowling around the aisles, searching for a rare edition, and reveling in the musty odour of old knowledge.
When I lived in Old Montreal, I used to go to a place called Russells down on Ste. Antoine. Unfortunately, the city's idea of progress destroyed the beauty of that building, taking the raw, unpolished presence of Izart's with it.
Bah... don't get me started on that. It's only Monday.
I spent most of this weekend indoors, cleaning, tidying, and just having some good quality time in my pad. I spend so much of my life running around from place to place, event to event, it's nice to be able to just kick back and be surrounded by my things.
I actually have a gaggle of neat things in my home. I've always been attracted to the rare, bizarre, and unusual. And I love antiques! One of my favorite ways to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon is rooting through junk shops, hunting for treasures. I try to stay out of Antique shops 'cause the stuff in there is just too polished, too nice, and overpriced.
Used bookstores are also right up there with junk shops. On rainy Sundays, you'll find me prowling around the aisles, searching for a rare edition, and reveling in the musty odour of old knowledge.
When I lived in Old Montreal, I used to go to a place called Russells down on Ste. Antoine. Unfortunately, the city's idea of progress destroyed the beauty of that building, taking the raw, unpolished presence of Izart's with it.
Bah... don't get me started on that. It's only Monday.
Friday, March 01, 2002
The Return of the Friday Five
The Friday Five is brought to you today courtesy of Smattering, the number 3, and the letter H.
1. What's your favorite vacation spot? I don't travel a whole lot, but I've developped an affinity for the Eastern provinces, especially Nova Scotia. I would love to have a chance to visit that place again. I would also like to get another look at Ireland since I was a bit overwhelmed on my first trip out that way.
2. Where do you consider to be the biggest hell-hole on earth? Ummmm.... geez. I can't think of any place I would hate that much.
3. What would be your dream vacation? A year spent touring Europe, especially Ireland, Scotland, and England. And what would I do? Storytelling, of course! And maybe a pint here or there, just for good measure...
4. If you could go on a road-trip with anyone, who would it be and why? It would depend on where we were going.
5. What are your plans for this weekend? Chock-full of stuff! Tonight, I should be performing at the storytelling at Café Art Folie (8 pm). On Saturday evening, my friend Peter will be celebrating a birthday (he turns 30 again!). And I've got D&D on Sunday night. Crazy life!
The Friday Five is brought to you today courtesy of Smattering, the number 3, and the letter H.
1. What's your favorite vacation spot? I don't travel a whole lot, but I've developped an affinity for the Eastern provinces, especially Nova Scotia. I would love to have a chance to visit that place again. I would also like to get another look at Ireland since I was a bit overwhelmed on my first trip out that way.
2. Where do you consider to be the biggest hell-hole on earth? Ummmm.... geez. I can't think of any place I would hate that much.
3. What would be your dream vacation? A year spent touring Europe, especially Ireland, Scotland, and England. And what would I do? Storytelling, of course! And maybe a pint here or there, just for good measure...
4. If you could go on a road-trip with anyone, who would it be and why? It would depend on where we were going.
- If I were travelling in Europe, I would love to be accompanied by my friend Colleen who is not only incredibly beautiful and fun, but has also travelled extensively and would know where to go and what to do.
- If I were going across Canada, I would probably enjoy Andrew and Ken's company, just 'cause there's something primal about three guys exploring this vast country of ours!
5. What are your plans for this weekend? Chock-full of stuff! Tonight, I should be performing at the storytelling at Café Art Folie (8 pm). On Saturday evening, my friend Peter will be celebrating a birthday (he turns 30 again!). And I've got D&D on Sunday night. Crazy life!
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