Out with the Old...

And with the new year comes changes. Hell's Bells... there better be some changes 'cause I'm not going to be able to live with the situation as is. I've got my receipt and I want a refund, dammit.

So I've been working on my new design for this blog. I was going to put it in a new place, but in the interests of laziness, I'm going to leave it here and just radically change it's design. Hint: I won't even call it the Pooh Logs any more!

In the meantime, let me raise a toast to you all, my dear readers, and wish you a happy new year in 2003. Let's take what we tore down and learned in 2002 and build a humdinger of a life for ourselves in 2003.

I think we've all built enough character. It's time to reap some rewards. Cheers.

Ask and ye shall receive Pooh

It's amazing what people search for on the Internet. It's even more amazing that the Pooh Logs keeps delivering what they want to see!

• naked men dancers montreal (Google #6)
  
• toyota matrix sulfur smell (Yahoo #2)
  
• pooh smell (Google #2)
  
• bill boobs boobies bill billegible (Google #6)
  
• Blogs babes (Google #9)

You can't say I don't take you to the best places!

The Old Homestead

Even when I lived here, I always picked a day once a month (usually a Sunday) and walked around Old Quebec. There's always so much to see.

And I was surprised when I was walking back to my car near Place Royale when I saw a storyteller! His name was Bernard and he was telling the story of La Chasse-Gallerie (which has always been one of my favorites, but I have yet to tell that story myself). I spoke with him afterwards and he told me that there were regular storytelling meetings in Quebec! Unfortunately, they are held the third Monday of each month (making it more difficult to attend when you`re away). I`ll have to take advantage of the time off to be in Quebec on a third Monday.

It may also motivate me to translate more of my stories. I`ve got three of them translated now, but I need to work on this project more. It would really open many doors in this province (and away) to be able to tell stories in two languages.

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!