All the Fixins'

I spent the 25th at familial home of my friend K's with his parents, family friend, and his brother and his family (wife and two kids). Kowy was right... Yuletide celebrations are best enjoyed with children tearing around from room to room.

K's nephew S had brought his portable hockey game with the players that swivel around on pivots. That is such a classic game and it awoke the boyhoods in all us men. We all took turns taking S on, knocking a small wooden puck off the backboards, pushing the little plastic men back and forth on the slotted ice, and our hands jumping desperately from knob to knob trying to activate the right player and ricochet the puck into the little plastic goal.

The only way to make that scene more Canadian would be to be drinking our Molson from stubbie beer bottles and listening to a crackling recording of La Bolduc on the crank record player. It was a nice moment.

Then it was time for the spread. Turkey with stuffing and cranberry jelly, mashed potatoes, carrots, turnips, peas, red wine, and plum pudding with tea. Stuffed! And the table was filled with good conversation about adventures in Montreal, Quebec, and elsewhere. K's mother was telling me about the house, how it used to be a one room schoolhouse and how K's father used to go to school there.

Imagine raising a family in the building where you went to school as a boy. Wow.

The evening ended in the kitchen, right where it started, with stories, laughter, shortbread cookies, and more tea. On the way home, I missed a turnoff and ended up in Old Quebec. I took the long way home, exploring the old haunts at 2 am. There wasn't a soul out on the streets, but you could see shadows moving about in the windows every few houses. The city was just snow, darkness, stars, Christmas lights, and quiet memories.

Thanks K. Merry Christmas.

Season's Greetings!

Just taking a moment to wish you all the best blessings of the holiday season, whatever holiday you happen to be celebrating. Thanks so much for coming on by and reading the odd ramblings to stumble out of my brain over the past year.

See you all in 2003 and may the New Year be the start of something fantastic and long-awaited!

Apologies

It's been two months now since the contract at Softimage ended and life is getting tight. I was hoping that the EI would kick in by now, but they're still withholding the money. It seems that you must be flat broke before they'll give you anything.

I'm just about there, so if the EI people are reading this, now's the time.

But I must send apologies out to my entourage who have pretty much not seen me for the past month or so. It's an odd thing, but whenever I'm out of work (and thankfully, it doesn't happen that often), I slip into a hermit state. I'm afraid to leave the house because I'll be more tempted to spend money and I have not money to spend.

As it stands now, I won't even be able to make the next rent unless I beg, borrow, or steal. And no Yuletide gifts to give. Argh.

I hate this economy.

Play the Music, Light the Lights

There's something about the holidays that just screams Old Movies. Specifically musicals.

'Tis the season for me to pull out all my old movie tapes like White Christmas, It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street, and others. Sure, sure... those are all Christmas movies. I sometimes watch them again in the summer during particularly hot days (psychological warfare).

But now I just watched Danny Kaye's The Court Jester for the umpteenth time. I never get tired of that flick, but it's always better to share it with someone who hasn't seen it, especially if they have an appreciation for films made during that time. However, I can see that the tape is starting to wear thin. Time for the DVD!

Get it? Got it. Good!

Travel Anxiety

Granted, I haven't travelled much in my life. I've seen parts of the states, parts of Canada, and I've been to Ireland. I really should travel more.

But one of the things I don't like about travelling far and wide is the flying part. Even before 9/11, I was never comfortable with flight. When I used to work at Bell, they would fly be back and forth from Toronto about once a month. Eventually, I talked them into sending me there by train, which is infinitely more comfortable I assure you (VIA First Class rocks!).

Now my parents and my sister are flying to Cuba for the holidays. This is weird for me 'cause this will be my first Christmas without my family, but in addition to that, I get nervous when my family flies.

Call me paranoid. I know that you are more likely to die in a car crash than an airplane accident, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I get jumpy everytime the phone rings, especially when it rings late at night.

I'll just breath a sign of relief when they are back home safe and sound.

Be Like Gene

Okay... enough of this depressing drek. Time for some good news. Like D says: when it rains, it pours. But with the right attitude, you can use it to become Gene Kelly.

Last Saturday, my old high school buddy Lynn was celebrating two fantastic bits of news: 1) She grew older by one year with grace, style, and friends (nothing takes the edge off getting older than being surrounded by friends, both new and old); 2) After 33 weeks of being told "This week, for sure", she finally got the transfer to Halifax that she wanted. You rock girl!

Make sure you get a good-sized guest room 'cause I'll be visiting... I may even bring you some genuine St. Viateur Bagels.

That Saturday night, I was busy throwing discarded crustations at my dinner companion and then wrestling with the local colorful characters in the Pointe. I intended to make an appearance at Hurley's to celebrate Lynn's b-day, but I was running late (that's what good wine, good food, and lovely company at the Claremont will do to a fella). But I finally made it, ordered a pint, celebrated Lynn's good fortune, and danced the night away.

When I got home finally, I checked my messages and lo and behold, I received a message from Lynn, Jewels, Eric (the German), John (the displaced Cape Bretoner), and Mirka (the displacer of Cape Bretoners). They wondered where I was, why I wasn't at Hurley's with them, and when was I showing up.

It felt great to find out that I was missed. I've been turning up late for things lately though. I gotta pull up my bootstraps and get my schedule in order. But still... thanks for the thought folks.

It's a bit late in the season for rain, but maybe I can tap myself out a dance in a pair of snowshoes and a purple-and-white-striped hat.

Just watch me.

Timing

I went to an interview today with CGI for a possible writing contract. The lady who interviewed me didn't really understand what I did as a technical writer, so she wasn't quite sure what to ask me. No matter: I did most of the talking and she said she'd get back to me by the end of the end of the week.

Although writing and researching definitions for a procedural system's workflow ain't what I would call a good time, I really need the money. I've been waiting for EI to kick in for 6 weeks now and it looks like I'm going to have to wait even longer. Drat. It looks like I'm going to have to ask the landlord to hold off on cashing the next rent cheque. This is not good.

I've built up enough character through this experience. Somethings in my life are finally starting to pick up and get really good, so now it's time for my career to get back on its feet. Everything in its place, everything in its time.

I say the time is now. Chop chop!

Scrambled

So much has happened in the last few days. Give me a minute to collect my thoughts.

I knew being a scatterbrain would come back to haunt me one of these days.

James Bond: Squeak Another Day

I just spent my Sunday afternoon being shaken rather than stirred with everybody's favorite Brit Know-It-All. Actually, seeing as how Pierce is actually from Ireland, I wonder if it galls him at all (or any of his friends/family) that he has to play a British guy.

Finally... a great bond movie with Pierce as Bond. I don't know what they were thinking about when Golden Eye was made, but they seem to have found their direction once again. Halle Berry is a great Bond girl in this film (especially when she saunters up the beach in Cuba (!!)), but Rosmund Pike (Miranda Frost) is completely forgetable. It's not really the actresses fault though... the writers could have done more to make her noticable.

There's one thing I'm starting to notice from film to film though. Those Hollywood sound types should update their sound effect databanks once in awhile. On TV and movies, everytime a heavy metal door squeaks open or shut, the sound it makes is exactly the same.

Don't mind me. I'm just nit-picky like that.

Shrimp Dart Champion of 1975

I never realized how many sets of stairs there were to climb at Place Bonaventure. You become acutely aware of this when you need to haul a baby stroller up, down, and up again so that you can get to the Arts fair. Of course, the elevators weren't working when D and I got there (although they were working when we left). By the time we reached the end of this madcap escapade, D was in hysterics because every corner we turned, there was another set of stairs. They mocked us, those stairs did.

I've been to the last two Arts fairs at Place Bonaventure, and although there's lots of nice stuff there, there wasn't anything new. I got a few ideas for people, so I'll have to pop on by again this week.

I managed to triple book myself on Saturday, but uncharacteristically, the three events weren't all occuring at the same moment (I do this more than I care to admit). My gig at Loblaws was a mite disappointing. I was told there would be a crowd of kids for storytelling, but there was a grand total of two (one of which was too young to understand anything but the word "cookie"). No matter, I told a few stories anyways.

I don't often tell to children. It's a completely different style, much more interactive than with adults. The one little girl that was listening hung off every detail, her eyes expressing every emotion that she felt as the stories developped. At the end of each story, she would clap her hands and cry out "More!"

If that's not job satisfaction, I don't know what is.

Then in the evening, I was supposed to go to Maggie's party at 8, so D and I decided to grab a quick bite. Mental note: the Claremont on Sherbrooke is not a "quick bite". Although the food was delish, it did take two hours to get through. Oops.

Anyone will tell you that I can be unpredictable. This means I may impulsively break the rules of a romantic meal just for effect. D was expounding on some topic which was teasingly casting my character in a bad light. I polished off a piece of shrimp, held the tail aloft and said "I'm about to bounce this shrimp tail off your forehead." D leaned back, threw the napkin over her face for protection, and when she leaned forward again, the shrimp tail was airborne.

It arched gracefully through the air, bounced off the middle of her forehead, and landed in my plate again. The emotions that rampaged across D's face were a rabble of astonishment, betrayal, and incredulity. I tried to remain deadpan at my end, but the realization that I just threw a discarded crustation at my dinner companion tugged at the corners of my mouth until we were both doubled-over in laughter.

This incident will probably haunt me until the end of my days, but it was worth it. Not that I'm planning any lobster dinners anytime soon.