Irascible Musings

Ball Bluster

2005-06-03T08:42:00.000-04:00

My grumpiness continues. The only stuff I've written lately has been baseball related.

Just so I've posted something this week here goes - the Weekly Ball Summary:

Week 3 proved another tough contest for the Diamond Dogs as the team squeaked out a 6-5 victory over the Menace in what may have been the most exiting game in team history. As usual the team displayed some amazing defense, playing virtually error free ball. Of the many highlights our second base tandem of D and A were fabulous, a virtual baseball black hole on the right side of the infield, and the arms in the outfield showed off their prowess notably, C throwing out a runner trying to go first to third on a single and Ben throwing out a runner (Granola Girl) at first from RF on a hard hit ball that got through the infield.

However the play of the day makes these pale in comparison. Heading into the top of the ninth the Dogs led the Menace 6-4. With one out and a runner on base the Menace's K was at the plate. All day she had hit the ball solidly and the Dogs’ defense was aligned in preparation for another well struck ball. Again K made good contact, however this time she had hit the ball with such authority that it screamed over the heads of the Dogs’ outfield. The ball skipped though LF at Trinity South, eventually passing the trees and rolling out onto the asphalt. As the Dogs outfield sprinted after the ball the runner on base scored drawing the game to within one run. After an excellent under-the-trees relay from J, B, now in mid LF, had the ball. As K turned the corner at 3rd and ran for plate, representing the tying run, B threw home. The throw was online, but hit the dirt 6 feet in front of the plate. Off one hop, the catcher A came up with the ball and the runner was out by one step. One more out, a scorcher to first handled adeptly by T and the Dogs won 6-5, moving to 3-0 on the season.

And, I was asked by Granola Girl, who is putting together a newsletter fot the league to write a team history kinda thingy. Looks like the newsletter may not come out so I thought I'd put it up somewhere:

In the spring of 2003 following the demise of my slo-pitch team I was desperate to find a fun league in which to play ball. After some searching I found the $#BL and decided to put together a team. The squad was cobbled together on some strict criteria: 1) must want to have fun playing, and be at least a little fun 2) must drink beer, and 3) must try to do well (actually doing well not-so-much). Throw in a forced Bowie reference and the Diamond Dogs were born.

The resulting team is an eclectic mix that has tons of fun both on the field and of course, later at the bar. Who knew screenwriters and M.BA’s could get along so well? Winning only one game, the first season was not a success in terms of victories though it was hugely enjoyable for the team. In large part this was due to the league being so welcoming and largely sharing the Diamond Dogs’ fun first, beer second, and winning third (if at all) philosophy.

Finally, in our third year the Dogs have been able to pay some attention to the third tenet of the team’s philosophy (we’re a tad slow) and have come out to a surprising 3 – 0 start. It’s uncertain whether it’s because the rust has started to come off some neglected skills or rather that our team is in much better shape after chasing down so many opponents hits the first couple of years, but the team is starting to put things together.

It’s too early to tell if the Diamond Dogs will be contenders or merely pretenders this year but one thing is certain; the team will be well represented at the bar after games.

Driven To Distraction

2005-05-26T11:52:00.000-04:00

Things have been rather crappy in this corner of the blogoshpere but not so bad that any complaints provide a solid rant. I'm unable to write about such annoyances without sounding like anything other than whining.

Fortunately, I have found a brand new way to ~~procrastinate~~ distract myself from such petty irritants.

Sudoku

It's like minesweeper hopped up on brain steroids. More thinking, less clicking; and it's portable too. Give it a go.

Weddoes Revisited

2005-05-17T13:58:00.000-04:00

Checking out where people have come from on sitemeter I found a vistor that came looking for The Wedding Present stuff through Technocrati. A little investigation of the links there led me to this:

The Perfumed Garden: An Audio Tribute To the Late John Peel

The site contains tons of great links to fabulous tunes, many of which have unfortunately expired. To my great exitement there's actually a recording of the Weddoes show in T.O. that I recently attended.

The file can be found through the above link or here

It's big (110MB) but it works and it's great. Get it before it's gone.

Enjoy.

Quizzical

2005-05-16T14:12:00.000-04:00

From Icy:

You scored as Existentialist. Existentialism emphasizes human capability. There is no greater power interfering with life and thus it is up to us to make things happen. Sometimes considered a negative and depressing world view, your optimism towards human accomplishment is immense. Mankind is condemned to be free and must accept the responsibility.

Existentialist

88%

Postmodernist

63%

Materialist

56%

Cultural Creative

50%

Modernist

44%

Fundamentalist

38%

Idealist

31%

Romanticist

25%

What is Your World View? (corrected...hopefully)
created with QuizFarm.

Dirtbag Ball Weekend

2005-05-10T11:34:00.000-04:00

Friday

Baseball practice
Hanging out on patio with team
Another patio w/ Krazy Courier Girl
Yet another patio w/ KCG and friends
Cold tea in Chinatown until very late

Saturday

Stumble out of unfamiliar apartment (#1) still in ball clothes
Head to park looking for noon pickup game
Drink coffee
No pickup game but Granola Girl comes by
Join GG’s team for a ball practice
GG’s team and the other team on the next diamond, start impromptu game
Have coffee and chat w/ GG
Head off to patio to resolve this issue, things go well
Grab supplies (beer) and head over to poker game
Play cards with interesting people including one of the scions of a Canadian literary icon
Game breaks up way early and head over to local bar
Many beers, shots, and bon mots at bar
Cold tea in Chinatown until very late

Sunday

Stumble out of unfamiliar apartment (#2) still in ball clothes
Head to park looking for afternoon pickup game
Drink coffee
Watch part of VE day parade
Play in pickup game
Head to other diamond for ball league’s opening ceremonies
Head back to first diamond for game
Team plays well and wins 9 – 3 (yay!)
Celebratory beer/shots at the Bar

Monday

Stumble out of unfamiliar apartment (#3) still in ball clothes
Drink coffee
Finally head home
Examine sunburn, including Rudolph like nose, ponder various aches and pains, question whether I’m getting too old for this. (No)
Recover

Doppelganger!

2005-05-06T10:31:00.000-04:00

There's this bar I go to only for business meetings. It’s nothing special, it’s just located well, has smoking at the bar, and incidentally, has very attractive wait staff. The crowd leaves something to be desired, but there’s almost always an available booth or table, and for a meeting the crowd doesn’t really come into the equation.

Meetings are irregular; sometimes twice in a week, sometimes not at all and on varying days of the week. After going here for a couple of months we realized that although our timetable may be erratic, the cuties on staff seemed to hold to a fixed schedule; beaudacious blondes on Tuesdays, pulchritudinous peroxides on Wednesdays, ravishingly ravenhaired on Thursday’s etc.

A month or so ago, J and I walk in together and are chatting away about things. As we enter the partitioned bar we run into and are greeted by one of the servers, Buxom Brunette (BB). She’s one of those incredibly soft talkers that my range of hearing has difficulty picking up. I interpret what she’s said as a generic greeting and we amble our way over to the bar as the room is uncharacteristically busy and all the tables and booths are occupied. While deciding between the variety of taps from which will pour the evening’s libations, J and I are still carrying on our conversation when BB, now behind the bar, approaches. Ahh, I think, a chance to order, one step closer to slaking the thirst of the day. But alas, it is not to be, as she avoids eye contact and starts to pour from the taps directly in front of us.

Finally, we have her attention but just as I prepare to announce my choice of amber beery goodness, a pint unasked for, is placed in front of me. My ensuing confusion, combined with the normal tongue-tying effects pretty girls often have, leads to my mute acceptance of the offered beer. Who would I be to turn down a pint, much less one proffered by a lovely lass? Meanwhile J still has to place his order.

As will happen when beer is put in front of me, the liquid disappears happily into my gullet, normally necessitating the order of another pint. Again, just as I’m about to ask, shazam, a beer magically appears before me. Of what variety, I’m unsure, but again, taken aback I remain silent. I have no idea what happened, we ended up paying for all the beer but never got an explanation why they kept appearing unrequested. Perhaps, she overheard us talking and misconstrued something we said. I was at a loss.

The next time we go on that day of the week there’s not nearly as many people and we come in and go straight into an open booth. I look up and notice that BB is behind the bar; she hasn’t heard us talking this time so I’m thinking I may actually get some choice as to what I’m drinking. Alas, no. She comes over to our booth with menus and, of course, a pint already poured, which she places in front of me.

Anyway, this night continues much as the last, with beers magically appearing in front of me, sadly though all included on the tab. At the end of the night, after we pay our tab and are putting our jacket on, she says, in that tiny, quiet, voice that I have so much trouble hearing “See ya later, John”. Well I think that’s what she said. J couldn’t make it out for sure either.

John? John? She’s mistaken me for someone else? Even without my wacky mop of hair I’m unusually tall and unusually ~~skinny~~ ~~thin~~ slender. To make things more improbable, she heard me speak at length at the bar.

It appears that I must have a Doppelganger who goes to this little bar on Thursday nights. Last night we scheduled another meeting and plans we made to confront BB about my evil twin. Perhaps, I would even have the good fortune to run into the Doppelganger in person. Alas, it was not to be. We arrived and neither was BB working nor was there anyone who remotely resembled me.

Ah, next time.

If you have any ideas for pranks or other ways to take advantage of the situation, please pass them on.

Poor, poor asshole

2005-05-02T09:20:00.000-04:00

I think it's great when the chance opens up to defend an asshole. That way the points one makes aren't clouded or diminished by any sentimentality, whether real or perceived.

Today's asshole is Rush Lim.baugh. The issue at hand is the Florida State Attorney's continued investigation into Mr. Lim.baugh's "doctor shopping" to feed his painkiller addiction.

Isn't addiction considered an illness? Here's a guy, albeit an asshole, who's sick. Sure he may have done marginally illegal things but to what end? Merely to feed his addiction. It wasn't for profit. It wasn't some endemic subversion of the system. His behaviour won't inspire legions of citizens to do the same thing. This was an isolated, personal case.

What is served by "conducting an ongoing criminal investigation"?

Will this prevent the asshole is question from becoming a recidivist? I think that the fallout from the first time is a sufficient deterrent. Is he a threat to society? No, he, at least in this aspect, is someone to be pitied. Does Mr. Lim.baugh need to be prosecuted so that he will be rehabilitated? He's gone into rehab, and again, I think if at all possible he'd want to avoid a scandal like this repeating itself.

What does that leave us with? Retribution. Not the legal kind. The petty, knock down your "betters" and grab headlines while your at it kind.

This, of course, ignores all kinds of other issues like rights to privacy.

If I was a Florida taxpayer I'd be PISSED. What a waste of time and money. The guy's sick after all. Poor, poor asshole.

Benjy won't like it; he hates everything

2005-04-27T15:14:00.000-04:00

Way back in high school a friend and I, likely skipping class, made the trek from the hinterlands of suburbia into the record shopping mecca and wonderland of skankiness that was then Yonge St. between Bloor and College. Working only part-time for wages that were criminal money was a significant issue at the time so when my friend pulled out an LP with a $17.99 price tag that was named after a soccer star I thought he’d gone off his nut. Thus began my introduction to The Wedding Present and their fantabulous, incredilicous album “George Best”.

Over the years I’ve added just about every release that they’ve put out and last Tuesday, partly in preparation for last night’s T.O. gig, I picked up their most recent album, Take Fountain. Over the first dozen or so listens I must say that I was disappointed. It’s not that the music isn’t up to standards it’s just that the lyrics, and their recurrent romance-gone-awry theme, seem merely plaintive and somewhat over-the-top compared to previous material which featured numerous deft turns of the phrase that somehow elevated the subject matter.

On my way to the show last night I worried that my expectations for their performance may also be too high. The last time I saw The Wedding Present play they put on a magical show, so good in fact that a musician friend of mine who came with me was instantly converted into a die-hard fan even though he came to the show unfamiliar with 95% of their catalogue. Ah, but the rub is that show they were touring with another great act that joined them on stage for most of the set (including portions w/ two drummers). Understandably, I was concerned that last night’s show may not live up to the standard set by it’s predecessor.

Ah, sometimes it’s so good to be wrong. My worries were entirely unfounded and the show was fan-freakin-tastic. The tunes they played from the new album just sounded HUGE. H-U-G-E. Seriously, I can’t name a better live act. If you get a chance catch this band.

/gush

If only the friend who introduced me to the band back in the day could’ve made it, he bailed due to an ailing little one.

My Favourite Track

2005-04-26T12:52:00.000-04:00

Tonight I'm off to see the Wedding Present, one of my favourite bands. Perhaps a review tomorrow. If his lyrics are an example the songwriter has led the most frustrated romantic life ever. Or perhaps, he just keeps pining for the one that got away. One of my fave tracks:

My Favourite Dress
Sometimes these words just don't have to be said
I know how you both feel, the heart can rule the head
Jealousy is an essential part of love
The hurting here below and the emptiness above

There's always something left behind.
Never mind

The tender caresses that bring out the man
I can't still be drunk at five
Oh, I guess I surely can
Slowly your beauty is eaten away
By the scent of someone else in the blanket where we lay

There's always something left behind
Maybe next time

Uneaten meals
A lonely star
A welcome ride in a neighbor's car
A long walk home
The pouring rain
I fell asleep when you never came
Some rare delight in Manchester town
It took six hours before you let me down
To see it all in a drunken kiss
A stranger's hand on my favourite dress

That was my favourite dress, you know
That was my favourite dress

No mutton, thanks

2005-04-21T14:29:00.000-04:00

From today's Globe and Mail

Here's how Canada's consumer price index has evolved over the past 92 years.

1910s

First index compiling prices paid by "workingmen in cities" appears in 1913. It features fuel, lighting and rent, as well as 29 food items such as mutton, lard, vinegar spirits and just two kinds of fruits.

1940s

Statisticians delete women's woollen hosiery, woollen panties and a shave in a barber shop from the list. They add margarine, chocolate bars, women's girdles, ice and household help.

1950s

Bologna is removed from the index. So are laundry bar soap, men's overalls and radio licences. The index now includes doughnuts, instant coffee, electric sewing machines and plane fares.

1960s

Lard, coal and men's hats dropped from CPI. Doctors' fees are removed with the start of medicare. More frozen foods are added, along with stereo combinations, parking costs and boats.

2002

Internet service providers and bank service fees are added. DVD rentals replace VHS rentals. Prices in Iqaluit are tracked. This month, MP3 portable players, recordable DVDs appear for the first time.

The complete article can be found here

Meme-o-rama

2005-04-18T11:27:00.000-04:00

via Ice Queen

Q: You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?
(What does this mean? I'll take it to be "what book do you think should be burned?"
No Logo by Niomi Klein - Hypocritical rubbish. While bitching out various corporations for misleading and coercing consumers while mistreating their workforces and the evironment she misleads and coerces her readers into dangerously oversimplified and counterproductive viewpoints. Specious pap.

Q: Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
Duh. Who hasn't?

Q: The last book you bought is:
The Sparrow - Mary Doria Russell. I'd already read it but I had to have a copy

Q: The last book you read:
Edenborn - Nick Sagan. It was OK. Disappointing though; it's prequel was much better.

Q: What are you currently reading?
I, Shithead (a life in punk) - Joey Keithley. Autobiography of D.O.A.'s frontman

Q: Five books you would take to a desert island.
I'm taking this to mean 5 books you'd want to have while excluding all others. My glib take:
The Feynman Letcures on Physics vol. 3 (quantum mechanics)- I know you won't believe this but it's funny as well as informative and thought provoking. Really. Don't belive me check out Surely you're joking....
The Oxford English Dictionary - Whatever the biggest version that's allowable. I'd love to have the 20 vol. OED now, much less on a desert island. Though I'd likely get even less done...
The Bible, annotated if possible. Never read it. On a desert island maybe I'd have a chance to figure out what all the fuss is about.
The Mote In God's Eye - Niven and Pournelle. Space opera extrodinaire.
Fight Club - Pahalniuk. 'nuff said.

Q: Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?
Ed - We talk mostly about girls, work and baseball. It'd be good to hear what he reads too.
Jeannette - In lieu of getting her to comment here I'll try and get her to participate.
Mikevil - He's part of the reason why I read the Sagan stuff. Damn those sidebar book thingys.

A Tale of Two Papers

2005-04-14T15:53:00.000-04:00

I subscribe to the Globe and Mail and for some unknown reason the Toronto Star has mysteriously been showing up for the past week.

As an experiment, I compared the papers today.

G&M front page:

Leaders' tone gets ugly fast
Harper lobs 'national joke' insult at PM;
Martin targets Tories' 'hidden agenda'
An election possible? Yes this is news. IMO both the headlines and the accompanying article were pretty balanced. Both leaders were portrayed as politicians (the scheming, muckraking sort that we know and detest so well)

Martin set to play unity card

Catholics fight for heart of Africa
(picture of PJP's tomb)
Upheaval in the Catholic church - Catholicism being the worlds largest religon, I deem this newsworthy too

Hollinger evicting Black from tony Toronto office
Like I care. This is Schadenfreude pure and simple. Pandering to the petty business reader. Ack.

White supremacist Droege shot to death in Toronto
One less bigot, good; but is this news? I don't think so. But it's on the front of the Star as well, guess I'm in the minority.

Star Front Page

Very prominent pic of pregnant Britn.ey Spe.ars
Caption: Junk food yummy for mummy-to-be Brit.ney,
but pop princess needs to rein in the fries
Not only is this not news but the paper offers a judgement too! The accompanying article on pg. 3 is a full page disparaging the couple's habits. Ack this is tabloid crap.

Kyoto plan will survive election
Conservatives say they'll stand by greenhouse goals
Whaa! Has the Star started supporting the Tories when I wasn't looking? In comparison the G&M's article (on pg. 6) is "Opposition tears into Liberal's Kyoto plan - Anti-global warming program could die with June election, Industry Minister says" I don't get it the Star used to be such a Liberal rag. The article glosses over things - if the "Toriess win a spring election, his party is commited to keeping the plan [Kyoto] though perhaps with a different timeline." As reported in the G&M this 'new timeline' would "push back the date for Canadian compliance with the internatioal agreement by a further three to eight years." Unreal the difference between the papers.

'The dark side consumed him'
Notorious white supremacist killed
Shot dead at his Scarborough home
Gotta love that headline - soo much trasier than the G&M. And the article is trashy too; In the second paragraph the report cites "sources" who "said he drifted heavily inot drug and cigarette smuggling over the past decade, although he was sitll considered a force in racist white politics." Yep, that's the Star - get in the trash right up front and continue tossing it for as long as you can.

Deal suspends teacher job action
Finally, a reason to read this rag. But I don't have kids, am not a teacher and hence could care less. I guess it's not a reason.

Women conspicuously absent from scandal
'We do politics differently,' MP says
More women, less corruption: Study
Egad, yet another specious study presented by our city's most prominent rag. Argh, I don't even know where to start with this inane, misleading blather.

This is why I read the Globe.

Hurts So Good

2005-04-11T10:19:00.000-04:00

I've cuts on my right hand as well as my right knee.

Some sunburn too.

I'm so sore that I can barely move.

Yesterday was the first day of baseball.

Glorious.

Pack Them Yourself?

2005-04-06T09:34:00.000-04:00

Oh no! We'll all need passports to travel to the US by 2008. The sky is falling!

Sure symbolically, needing a passport just isn't as warm and fuzzy as showing less secure documents but really, are you surprised that this is happening. My only shock is that it has taken this long.

I just have to shake my head at the response though.

Particularily that of the media and our Deputy PM, Anne McLellan:

"We will review our requirements for American citizens, and we're going to do that in collaboration with the United States," Ms. McLellan said outside the Commons.

A vague threat perhaps? The local TV news portrayed ths as potential "retaliation".

Ms. McLennan continued, "There's no point in either of us going off in a direction without working together to determine how best we can facilitate the flow — a free flow — and movement of low-risk individuals."

Ah yes, typical, follow up the vague threat with a concilitory statement. Not that anyone other than the Canadian media are listening. Not that it matters. Apparently Ms. McLennan either didn't understand the implication or was just grabbing the spotlight (or more likely both). As the G&M put it:

It remained unclear what point Ms. McLellan might be making by threatening to require U.S. citizens to carry documents to enter Canada that their own government will require them to carry to re-enter the United States.

The local TV media also played the fear-mongering card "longer line-ups at the border" and showed shots of heavily congested customs stops. This is likely false as "traffic at often-choked land crossings could actually be speeded up by the change to machine-readable, reliable documents meeting common standards."

The stuff is italics is from the much clearer, straight-forward, non-fearmongering article in today's Globe and Mail.

Maybe we should require passport inspections for Ms. McLennan and the media before they go to air. Have you had your facts checked ma'am? Did you pack them yourself? When was the last time you were pandered to the lowest common denominator? Any lies that you are planning to leave in our fair media?

Form an Eiaml I Got

2005-03-31T14:05:00.000-05:00

You may have already seen this but I thought it was neat.

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg The
phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid Aoccdrnig to rscheearch taem at
Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a
wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be
in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it
wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey
lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Such a cdonition is
arppoiately cllaed Typoglycemia...

Amzanig huh? Yaeh and yuo awlyas thought slpeling was ipmorantt.

Nuts

2005-03-30T10:56:00.000-05:00

Shareholder Meeting Delayed

Toronto – Last night’s shareholder meeting of Irascible Inc. was delayed when J., a partner in the business, was unexpectedly drawn away by a family emergency. Reports indicate that a squirrel had somehow become trapped in the attic of J’s in-laws. For some inexplicable reason the in-laws were unable to deal with the situation themselves and J was conscripted as animal control.

After the short delay the meeting progressed as expected. Excess peanut butter, surplus from trap baiting, was then provided as an accompaniment for the beer.

Home Game

2005-03-28T12:17:00.000-05:00

It amazes me that even after I tell people that I played poker full-time for a year I still get invited to home games. I guess it just looks so simple on television; people must think to themselves, “hey, I can do that too”. Whatever the rationale the invitations come.

Friday I went over to an acquaintance’s place and played in a small stakes no-limit game that has been running every month for the last couple of years: $40 buy-in, historically players win or lose up to about $100 in an evening. My chips increased steadily over the course of the night and I won over $300, establishing the new record for winnings.

Apparently I will be invited back. Silly people.

Anyone else need a chair filled at a home game?

Eggshells

2005-03-23T13:48:00.000-05:00

My father needs a new computer and it just so happened that a friend of my sister's fiance constructs them for really good prices. Now my father knows next to nothing about the specifications of what he needs so I've been forcibly conscripted as a go-between in the whole transaction dealio.

This should've been a very simple task, low on the frustration index. But no, somehow it gets dragged out, I get pestered constantly and my irascibility had begun to show. Finally, the order is in, everyone seems to be happy and then...

Yesterday, the computer was supposed to be picked up and delived to my parent's place. I'm busily working away and getting stressed out by a bunch of crap when my IM (set to busy) pops up.

Sister: ben, when u r around let me know what parts for the computer u still need. As far as I know Dad just has a monitor, right?

Sister: Fiance is gonna pick up the other parts so just let me know. thanks!

Me: huh? I thought dad gave you the specifics. What the heck do you need now?
(don't bother me, I'm irascible and busy)

Sister: do u not need a keyboard or speakers?
(patronizing?, a tad of guilt thrown? and I don't need anything, it's for dad)

Me: talk to dad. I'm busy. I thought a keyboard was included. Scratch that I don't care. Talk to dad.
(no really, you've know me your whole life you should know by now that I'm irascible)

Sister: never mind, sorry about trying to help out. we were going to get that stuff ourselves but i dont want to create any more problems for u
(oh yes, that's definitely guilt)

Me: thanks bye
(don't bother throwing guilt, I'm not listening. nah, nah, na, na, nah)

Now she's not talking to me. Funny how even though we're both adults (at least physically) this childish sibling crap rears it's ugly head every now and again.

Time to consider apologizing and start walking around on eggshells for a while.

Egad.

Lost In the Supermarket

2005-03-21T08:52:00.000-05:00

How in the hell does one shop for a lawyer?

Although my legal needs may become more complex at present they're pretty basic: I need a corporate lawyer with expertise in software. Throw in some intellectual property, a little tax strategy and a competitive rate and I'm a happy camper.

They all look so similar on paper and there's just so many of them out there.

So many.

I'm lost.

Optimizing Irony

2005-03-18T10:57:00.000-05:00

From an email I sent today:

"I need your advice on something. One ball captain to another.

I know there's snow on the ground but I'm just about to send out the first ball email of the year. Problem. I've a major roster decision to make. One of our biggest bats happens to be "difficult to get along with", as was succinctly put by another team member. This person has been the focus of a number of personality conflicts both within the team and within the league at large. I'm thinking of cutting him. I've talked to a number of the other players on the team and no one will rigorously defend him. They all have said "Either way, it's fine by me. It's your call."

Like them I'm sitting on the fence. He's a pain in the ass (and a bit of an embarassment) but his bat would be missed."

The recipient of this query is not only another captain and a friend but also the one involved with the worst of the personality conflicts within the league at large - our player at one time tried to pick a fight with him.

I will likely abide by the recommendation I get in response.

Don't Be Fooled

2005-03-17T11:33:00.000-05:00

I’ve so much to say but so little drive to say it. Just watching the evening news usually gives me about three different things to rant about yet I just can’t get around to it. And in other aspects of life well…

I think drive must be parceled out in discreet, finite amounts and frankly, I’m using it up elsewhere. In lieu of a personal post I present to you a short excerpt of a book I just started and am enjoying immensely.

From Fooled By Randomness (Second Edition) by Nassim Nicholas Taleb:

…the description coming form journalism is certainly not just an unrealistic representation of the world but rather the one that can fool you the most by grabbing your attention via your emotional apparatus – the cheapest to deliver sensation. Take the mad cow “threat” for example: Over a decade of hype it only killed people (in the highest estimates) in the hundreds as compared to car accidents (several hundred thousands!) – except that the journalistic description of the latter would not be commercially fruitful. (Note that the risk of dying from food poisoning or in a car accident on the way to a restaurant is greater than dying from mad cow disease.) This sensationalism can divert empathy towards wrong causes: Cancer and malnutrition being the ones that suffer the most from the lack of such attention. Malnutrition in Africa and South-East Asia no longer causes that sense the mental probabilistic map in one’s mind is so geared towards the sensational that one would realize informational gains by dispensing with the news. Another example concerns the volatility of markets. In peoples’ minds lower process are far more “volatile” than sharply higher moves In addition volatility seems to be determined not by the actual moves but by the tone of the media. The market movement in the 18 months after September 11, 2001 were far smaller than the moves that we faced in the 18 months prior – but somehow in the mind of investors they were very volatile. The discussions in the media of the “terrorist threats” magnified the effect of these market moves in peoples’ heads. This is one of the many reasons that journalism may be the greatest plague we face today –

Don’t be fooled by the book’s title it is a very thoughtful and entertaining book.

Haiku

2005-03-15T08:54:00.000-05:00

worrisome saffron
imminent dehydration?
oh, asparagus

Blue Sky

2005-03-11T12:05:00.000-05:00

I love blue sky thinking. Whether or not concepts are adopted they certainly are excellent brain fodder.

I normally enjoy Fareed Zakaria's weekly articles in Newsweek. This one Imagine: 500 Miles Per Gallon really spoke to the eco-friendly freak that lies beneath my free-market exterior.

And Would you pay 5 cents for a song? To me this makes a lot of sense. I'd likely spend even more on music. Maybe it'd even help get the music industry out of trouble.

Ahh, but it takes a lot to overcome the inertia of "but that's not how it's done."

Half Asleep

2005-03-10T10:28:00.000-05:00

Woke up this morning and my hair seemed to be channeling The Flock of Seagulls circa 1982 way more than usual. Played with the amorphous mass that I call my lid a little and realized it was actually pretty malleable. Hmm. The “just out of bed look” being in vogue maybe I should go into hair products with drool as the secret ingredient.

Version 1.0

2005-03-08T09:52:00.000-05:00

I'm over at the Icicle Fief today singing the praises of Douglas Coupland's, Microserfs as part of Icy's fabulous "Fief Reads".

Come on over and take part in the discussion.

(Imaginary) Photo Essay

2005-03-04T09:51:00.000-05:00

In this spirit of celebrating the banal, as the blogdom so often does, I present my imaginary photo-essay of this corner of the blogosphere:

Radmila – leaning back from her computer laughing. A cigarette burns away unattended in a nearby ashtray. A glass of wine (or steaming cup of tea) sits beside the computer. In the background The Mister looks over from the open refrigerator bemused, but happy that Rada’s happy.

Dantallion – Out walking the dog (?) at the same time that others in the neighborhood go out. While the dogs frolic in the snow he amiably chats with the other owners, somehow making the frigid winter in Montreal seem like a warm place.

Ice Queen – Dressed for work, dropping the Ice Prince off at school. A complex emotion plays across her face, puzzled, worried and relieved all at once. Hootchie Mama is also there providing contrast to Icy’s comportment and balancing the image.

SisterStacey – At shimmying practice. A Degas-like image, without any retouches.

Mikevil – I thought the image conjured in this post was perfect. Well before the idiot said something anyway.

Crabby - Curled up on the couch with a book, a blanket, and a beverage unwinding after work. A cat admires her from the armrest on the far side of the sofa.

Lynda. - Splayed across her bed, paying no heed to the chaos that is her room languidly she peruses a book while one finger wags in time with the music playing on the stereo.

Me – Hmm, so many choices, perhaps sitting at the corner of Adelaide and York in front of the Strbucks with Stephen. Beside us suits are out for a smoke and the couriers are gathered, chatting waiting for their next delivery. A cigarette hangs from my right hand as I talk animatedly about something.

Treatment

2005-03-03T09:45:00.000-05:00

Last night I was out at a bar when an acquaintance opened up a portfolio of his work that he’d brought by. In a previous incarnation he’d been a graphic artist and had recently taken up the craft again. He was very proud of the current piece he was working on, a digitally reworked photo of his wife, transforming a photo of her into a Klimt-like vision, albeit with pastels rather than jewel tones.

Although well executed, I just didn’t get it. His wife is a former model with fantastic bone structure but the treatment didn’t seem fitting. She’s recently fully recovered from a battle with cancer and this was the first time I’d seen her with the spark in her eyes since undergoing treatment. Perhaps it’s just me but I found the return of her laugh and regained ease much more beautiful than the imperious, idealized version he was creating.

Unrequited

2005-03-02T11:58:00.000-05:00

Email can be so annoying. Well, that and the people you are corresponding (is this the correct word?) with can make the medium frustrating. It probably shouldn’t be surprising but I’m (finally) starting to understand that I must vary my writing style according to the recipient in order to elicit the desired response. What’s bothering me at the moment is the tendency some people have of giving partial responses.

I send out something that requires the answer to more than one question and in the reply only one of my queries is addressed. (Not to say that it’s necessarily answered, but that’s a whole new rant.) How one specific question seems deserving of a response yet others are left ignored like the smelly kids at the school dance baffles me.

Apparently, the liberal application of question marks is insufficient to clean up some of my queries and make them presentable. After the phenomenon of selective response reoccurred a number of times I started using other beautification techniques to draw attention to the wallflowers of the class; perhaps repetition, numbering or even BOLD CAPS would enable the shunned inquiries to be deemed danceworthy.

Enough of the silly metaphor.

One person who I correspond with will only answer the last question asked so I only pose one query per email. Short attention span I guess. Well, that or they really like getting email.

My annoyance with the email exchange with one person lately has been getting the better of me. First I number my questions. They reply and answer some but inexplicably not the others. I then cut & paste the previous email, removing the questions that got replies and resend. I know I’m badgering; just the learning curve of effective communication can be so frustrating and yes, I’m Irascible.

Any particular email annoyances/strategies?

Improbable, so what?

2005-02-28T09:17:00.000-05:00

DISCLAIMER: The idea expressed below was going through my head and I just needed to write it down somewhere. I admit that I’m just a hack at this and am much more poorly read than I should be. Please ignore if it hurts your head or seems too amateurish.

A number of recent astronomical observations have revealed how precisely balanced the universe is. Any small change in the creation of the universe and either things would have collapsed on themselves or conversely dissipated preventing complex matter, and hence life, from ever being able to form.

Some take this “unique” result as evidence of a supreme being.

I am troubled by this conclusion.

Hypothesis: The improbability of the universe’s configuration does not necessarily indicate the existence of a “Creator”

Assumptions:
1) Quantum effects, specifically probability amplitude related, in the early universe had a large role in determining the eventual composition (N.B. My understanding of the early U. is seriously lacking)
2) The multiple universes theory is correct.

Given 1) an infinite number of universes are possible

Given 2) ALL possible universes were created, however improbable

Evidence: This universe exists. Therefore it is possible, and hence created.

Thus, given 1) and 2), the universe’s improbable composition does not give credence to the existence of a “Creator” Q.E.D.

Court Astrologer Runs Afoul of the Crown

2005-02-23T09:42:00.000-05:00

Excerpt from a previous post:

"a very brief overview of technical analysis. Like the ancients who looked at the stars and thought the Big Dipper looked like a bear, you basically look at the charts of a stock's past performance until you find patterns (or are dizzy). Then you somehow take a leap of faith and predict that these patterns will reoccur (if dizzy, just select some random section of the chart). People actually get paid good money to develop rationalizations for this crap. They are the new (Commerce) Court Astrologers. Egad."

So my disdain for technical analysis is no secret. And when CitiGroup recently fired their whole technical analysis division all I could say was "Bwahaahaahaaa".

Well that and I'll have to select another place to apply as resident Witch Doctor/Shaman/Alchemist. I was thinking of piecing together a getup replete with "mystical" elements - bone necklace, eagle feathers, amulets, talismans etc. and offering my services blessing corporations (or cursing their competitors). I'd roll bones and read tea leaves to pick stocks. But rationality seems to be creeping into the industry.

Ah, well maybe I'll try reintroducing phrenology in HR. I've got a set of calipers around here somewhere.

Another bloggers take on the firings click here

CyberGrassroots

2005-02-21T09:41:00.000-05:00

In a break from my normal self-centered, insular blogging I'm jumping on the bandwagon.

Free Mojtaba and Arash Day

Committee to Protect Bloggers

I love this whole call-to-action/community thing.

Global Blogger Action Day Called

Nine Day Plan

2005-02-16T14:50:00.000-05:00

I've got nothing I really want to write about so I'll let you in on my secret (shh!) nine-day plan.

After being accused for the nth time of taking a significant other for granted (i.e. not spontaneously doing something sweet) I came up with this plan. Now, I understand that it is not spontaneous in the least, but it does give that impression (and that's what's important).

1. Make a list of little things/gestures that would please your partner
e.g.'s Flowers, a new CD, washing the dishes even though it's their turn, breakfast in bed etc.

2. Pick an appropriate interval of days; just make sure it's not a multiple of seven, they'll catch on for sure.

3. Put a little asterix or symbol in your daytimer/palmpilot and each day one comes up pick an appropriate item from the list created in part 1 and voila - "spontaneous" gesture of affection.

Sweet huh?

Silly little things I like:
Coffee already made when I get out of bed
First crack at the crossword
Watching something with me that I know they don't appreciate

What items would you put on your list?

Hmmph.

2005-02-14T10:17:00.000-05:00

Does anyone really look forward to Valentine's Day?

Significant other around or not I never have.

If I'm single, as I am presently, Valentine's Day is an unwelcome reminder of my bachelorhood.

If I'm involved with someone then I have to fret over getting an appropriate gift. Even receiving a Valentine's gift can be a cause of concern. "Oh, yes, your (insert entirely unwanted) gift is wonderful... Thanks so much."

Perhaps more than the other reasons I dislike Valentine's day is being manipulated by the Hallmark conspiracy. I hate cards. I will not sign my name to someone else's sacharine words. If I buy a card it has to be blank.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to giving flowers or expressing my sentiments in prose, just why the f**k do it on Feb 14th? I find that gestures like these are much more effective if done unexpectedly (sometime I may explain the 9-day plan). Being obligated to preform some sentimental acts on a certain day not only reduces their impact but also pisses me off.

Valentine's Day. Hmmph.

Aspirations

2005-02-11T12:05:00.000-05:00

It’s funny how different people’s aspirations are. It can be making VP, finally finishing the long-abandoned degree, putting out the record/novel that’s tortured your soul for years or any number of other things.

I was having coffee with a buddy of mine yesterday and we were discussing everything under the sun including my newest wacky idea (he’s in a related industry). After talking at length, the conversation took yet another of its rambling turns and he mentioned what he aspired to in the near future.

“In two years I’d like to cut down to working only four days a week.”

Not a title. Not a car or a house or some other material good that showcases one’s affluence. Not some effort to fix a poor choice made years ago.

He wants to spend more time with his kids, have a little more fun and be able to enjoy the present a little more.

More people should have aspirations like this.

One's Own Feet Make Easy Targets

2005-02-09T13:28:00.000-05:00

I know, I know, picking on advertisements is just too easy but one I saw last night irritated me more than most.

Pep.si commercial synopsis:

P Did.dy's car breaks down on way to awards show.
Did.dy catches ride with Pep.si delivery truck.
Gawkers and paparazzi think this is a fashion statement
Idiot lemmings everywhere copy the "trend" driving around Pep.si trucks

Oh, how foolish they are...

The moral seems to be that people are foolish for falling for celebrity endorsements.

Just like this one.

Wakey Wakey

2005-02-08T13:53:00.000-05:00

Unintentionally each winter, esp. Jan and Feb, I stop going out. This is neither good nor bad. Sure the social life suffers but the recovery time my peace of mind and liver get seem to make up for it. From what my friends in the service industry say this must be a pretty common thing as restaurants suffer (unless you're part of Winterlicious).

This may just be a false spring but I think I'm slowly coming out of hibernation.

Tonight out to the pub to discuss another wacky idea (creativity; a side benefit of hibernation) with my business partner, tomorrow out w/ Krazy Courier Girl (who is no longer a courier) and Thursday dragging my friends in the financial district out of work in between chores I have to do there.

(I'm supposed to meet with Ed for lunch; I'll twist his arm for a six-week-challenge update.)

The sun's a little higher in the sky and the snow's almost gone. Early spring? Maybe I'm just checking to see if my shadow is there or not.

Playing the Game

2005-02-04T13:44:00.001-05:00

I don’t follow football. Either kind.

Yet each year I get involved in a playoff pool.

I’ve done pretty well in years past.

I think my ignorance about the sport is an advantage.

There’s lots of room for game theory in this pool and I leverage it as much as I can.

Final picks come out today. I’m behind a fair bit but have tried to put myself in a position to win. Later on I’ll find if I’ve got a chance or painted myself into a corner.

Football’s so screwy.

Results are in:
Go Philly!
Philly wins by 5 to 9 pts. 1st place approx. 17 to 1 on bet
Philly wins by 10 to 17. 2nd 8 to 1
Philly wins by 18 or more. 3rd 6 to 1

Equality

2005-02-03T10:44:00.000-05:00

People aren’t equal. This doesn't mean the law shouldn't be applied uniformly but sorry, they just aren’t. If everyone were equal there wouldn’t be an issue selecting friends/lovers/employees etc., just anyone would do.

I understand the motivation that underlies the drive for uniform treatment by others. In fact, an interesting study on primates was recently in the news, indicating that a “sense of fair play” may be innate to the human condition. It is likely this need for equitable conduct or fairness that typically generates outrage when anyone has the impertinence to suggest that people are unalike. How the desire/need for uniform treatment (under the law and otherwise) could somehow be extrapolated to mean that people are equal in all ways is beyond me.

Perhaps some is a holdover from the Declaration of Inde.pendence and its statement that “all men are created equal”. This clause/fragment/phrase now reverberates through western culture; from the legal system to Star Tr.ek. I would suggest that the clause’s intent was primarily a repudiation of the monarchist system; funny how the intent got skewed along the way.

Anyway, being a marginal writer at best, I’ve likely bunged this all up. Rereading a favorite author last night I was given a demonstration of how unequally talent is meted out. For a much, much better and entertaining read on the sillyness of this interpretation of equality read Harr.ison Berge.ron by Kurt Vonn.egut.

Enjoy.

Suckered Again

2005-02-02T14:43:00.001-05:00

Lately, I’ve read a bunch of disappointing books and I just refuse to put them down. The reason why I masochistically have to read them all to the end eludes me. I’d like to call it tenacity but more likely it’s just bull-headed, thoughtless, stubbornness. Once I’ve invested a certain amount of time I just have to see it to the end. These books have been a let-down for a variety of reasons: over-hyped expectation, terrible prose, inability to suspend my disbelief or connecting the dots on the supposed twist way too early (and having to trudge through page after page while the author laboriously draws together the various glow-in-the-dark bits of foreshadowing clunkingly strewn throughout the novel).

Anyone have recommendations for books released recently? Or any purplish prose that should be avoided?

Ah, I think I’m going to go find a few novels that really like and reread them (again).

Idea Kernel

2005-02-01T14:48:00.000-05:00

I’ve been giving more thought to the idea of starting up a poker course. I likely don’t have time to set it (cirriculum, lectures, courseware etc.) but it’s an interesting little thought experiment.

For this venture I look great on paper (kinda odd in person but great on paper nonetheless). Provided both the economics and time constraints don’t prove problematic I don’t see any reason why I couldn’t make it work.

Ballparking the Numbers

Using the time-tested OMA (Outta My Ass) method:

From typical TDSB courses – 9 weeks, 3hrs/weeks. Cost: $116
Assuming (?) host organization takes 70% of tuition
Ten students yields: $348
Twenty Five: $870
Fifty: $1740
Or hourly rates of $12.89, $32.22 and $64.44 respectively

The TDSB was chosen as that’s likely where I’d try to do it (location and marketing provided)

Additional income could be generated through other sources:

Course Materials – Could buy texts at bulk rates for course use and resell at retail. Potentially could write my own courseware/book.

Private Lessons – As one-on-one instruction is so much more effective – and profitable

Affiliate Program – Perhaps even more lucrative than any of the other income streams there is the potential here to make solid money bringing new players into on-line poker rooms.

Whaddya think?

Still Puzzled

2005-01-28T11:48:00.000-05:00

If anyone's curious about the solutions for the puzzles posted the other day I've put the answers up for questions 1 and 2 in the comments there.

What to teach?

2005-01-27T13:13:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a bit more about that silly test-prep job and whether I would take it if the position is really offered. It's part-time which is great, so I can still primarily concentrate on my own business and yet it would contribute a nice, regular stream of income.

The more I consider it the more I recall another idea I had months ago yet did nothing about. Why don't I start up a poker school? So many people I know are starting to take it up, likely due to television exposure I'm pretty sure the demand is there. The course could be done privately or as some sort of continuing education class.

What do you think?

If anyone knows about the in and outs of the processes and/or economics of continuing ed. I'd greatly appreciate it.

Whaa?

2005-01-27T09:42:00.000-05:00

What's the longest you've had to wait to hear about a job you were applying for?

July 27/2003 (18 months ago) I applied for this G.MAT instructor position that pays ridiculously well and that I am unusually qualified for. After firing off an email, I never heard back. Until yesterday when I recieved this:

From: PonceyName
To: Irascible Benjamin

Subject: PonceyName

Benjamin,

I am new to the PonceyName team and will primarily be working with all of
our instructors. I am interested to learn a little more about your
background with PN as well as your current availability for
part-time work in Toronto. I am hoping to acquaint myself more with all
of the instructors and update our Instructor List. When you get a
chance, let me know about your involvement with PonceyName thus far and
your current availability. Thanks, Benjamin.

Cheers,

Somebody Hyphen-Ated

Likely it's just a big screw-up. If anything else come of it I'll let you know.

Selling

2005-01-26T13:51:00.000-05:00

I hate selling things.

Hate. Hate. Hate.

When what I’m selling is something I have faith in it’s terribly difficult. If it’s something I don’t wholeheartedly believe in it’s a non-starter. I even have trouble selling myself in interviews, and other than fleeting doubts I certainly don’t lack confidence in my abilities.

Selling. Ack.

It nauseates me.

Anathema.

It corrodes my soul.

At the moment I’m leaning towards raising some funds to accelerate the progress of my business and I'm negotiating with potential investors.

Here’s something you can’t touch, but the idea is fabulous. Awesome.

Believe in the idea.
Believe in me.

You’ll make tons of money.

You say the idea might not work. You have concerns about implementation.

The return doesn’t reflect the risk.

But you still want in.

Are your concerns from the heart? Or are you just trying to get a better deal?

Why do you doubt me so?

It’s not personal, just business.

Selling sucks.

Linky Linky

2005-01-25T10:11:00.000-05:00

Ontario Architechure: Not an Oxymoron!

Accretion Disk Theory Down the Drain? Discuss.

Firefox: Not only a spyplane movie from the 80's but a better browser

Mmm, Asparagus

2005-01-24T13:33:00.000-05:00

“Not a small change, like the day you discover you like asparagus after all, or when you stop wearing white socks. This was life altering stuff.”

From chindi by Jack McDevitt

I’ve had a number of these moments. For me, the change seems small at first but yet somehow permeates to other aspects of your life and your outlook in general. There are much more affecting instances but since I’ve mentioned it a few times lately I’ll tell the story about how I became a poker player.

I’d been working in the charity casino industry (30 tables maximum, generally 27 blackjack and 3 poker) for a number of years. I’d started the job as a stopgap after my undergrad to pay the bills while I determined what the hell I wanted to do with my life. I started off as a croupier and was soon promoted a number of times until I was managing the largest operator in T.O. The money was good, the lifestyle was enticingly quirky; I was sucked in.

At this point in time I gambled once in a blue moon, never for any sizable amount of money. As part of my job I was privy to how much money the casinos raked in, both figuratively and literally. Gambling I thought, is only for amusement, nobody can make up for the difference in odds that the casinos get.

The owner of the company I worked for was erratic, mercurial, and arbitrary. One moment he was all smiles and your best friend, the next he was publicly tearing a strip off you. I likely should have left long before I did but the comfort of working with people you know as well as the perks offered when he was in Dr. Jekyll mode somehow kept me around. Eventually, I had too much and switched companies, leaving for pastures that weren’t quite as green yet much more pastoral.

I knew a few of the people at the new firm but most of the staff were complete unknowns. One of the differences at this company was that they had a semi-regular after work poker game where the staff faced off against one another for relatively small stakes ($1/$2 vs. $5/$10, the minimum offered during operating hours). Viewing this as an excellent opportunity to get to know my new co-workers I pushed my misgivings about gambling to the side and joined in. Being a bit of a statistics freak, I kept meticulous records of how I did at these games and was quite surprised to see that I’d won 28 of the 32 sessions that I played.

My winning record, was not by itself, sufficient for me to start playing outside of this environment; I had spent far too long living well off the gambling losses of others to suddenly be convinced that I could beat the rake (the casinos cut of each poker pot) where so many others fail every day. Well that and the stats freak would speak up and say that a sample size of 32 in woefully small. The impetus that brought me to the tables was the provincial governments decision to scrap the industry.

I could rage about the shutdown for a long time, it still gets under my skin the way it was handled, but another time maybe… Anyway, I was (relatively) suddenly out of work and if I wanted to find a new job in the industry I’d have to relocate. Unwilling to move to some backwater bordertown and armed only with a degree in some esoteric science I, along with the rest of the industry pondered what to do.

All of us who had our livelihood summarily eradicated (by the fallout from a non-binding referendum question on municipal ballots) now had plenty of time to think about what we were all now going to do. There’s only so much time one can pursue gainful employment or investigate alternate career choices and needless to say most of us had a lot of free time on our hands.

Now although I was not one of them, casino staff are generally gamblers and I would often get invited to go for a drive up to the casino in Port Perry (about 45 min. away) where the only legal poker room in the province (there are others now, but it’s still my favorite). Before switching companies and my nice little run playing cards I would’ve said no, but with all things considered I began saying yes and hence began my poker playing days.

When I started going it was just to blow some time, have a few drinks and hopefully make a little money to supplement the meager EI checks I was getting. A pastime really, at no point during this time did I consider this as an alternate career choice. Even though I was consistently winning each loss would shred my confidence and I’d be kicking myself for the whole drive back home (if not longer). Most gamblers “chase” their losses, gambling more and more, trying to get back into the black; after each loss I’d stay away for days until I was able to weave the tatters of confidence into something wearable or at least until the ennui of unemployment was too much.

I’m not sure if I ever would have made the jump to playing full time except for one particular incident. About a month and a half into semi-regular play (2 or 3 days a week) I was up at the casino, biding my time waiting for a seat. As is typical, I would survey the various tables, finding where the “action” was best and the bad players were sitting – determining which table I would eventually get seat at when one of the other regulars (who was a good player, and with whom I got along with) saw me scouting things out and asked what my position was on the waiting list. I had just checked and so I was able to tell him that I was next to be seated. Upon hearing this he announced to the table “Nobody get up. We don’t want him sitting here.”

Now, in itself this comment in itself wasn’t really anything weighty but it was the last bit of evidence that tipped the scales to get me thinking about playing poker professionally and to eschew the search for more traditional employment. After this point I ramped up my playing to about 40 hours per week and began treating my poker with much more gravity.

More than finding a needed source of revenue, I now recognized that I had a skill that I could always fall back on if other things didn’t pan out. It gave me a modicum of financial security at the time but more importantly, I didn’t have to take some job I hated just to make ends meet. Lacking this in the past, I’d worked some awful jobs and stayed far too long in unpalatable/unhealthy work environments. Had I known this earlier I would’ve definitely left the high paying managerial job with the psycho casino owner much, much sooner.

Poker has many downsides: unpredictable short-term results, strange schedules and it leaves gaping holes in your resume. This step to playing full-time lasted for a year but the repercussions are still felt. For better or worse I decided to take an unusual path.

I should really wrap this up better but this post is already far, far too long and nothing comes to mind that will enable me to tie it into either asparagus or white socks. So I'm done. The end.

Innately Irascible

2005-01-20T13:11:00.001-05:00

A small confession, the puzzles posed in the next-to-previous post were ~~a cop out~~ ~~a pitiful distraction~~ a thoughtful lead in to talking about this. I’m sure you’ve all read/heard about the comments made recently by Ha.rvard’s president, Lawrence Sum.mers, at a private academic conference stating there are innate differences between men and women.

People are shocked. Dismayed. I don’t get why.

Sure his reasoning may be seriously flawed but that’s not what people are upset about. People are screaming that equality must hold true. Even over specific cognitive processes. Why? I’m unsure. To vastly oversimplify, it seems to follow that the same factors that give males an edge over females in beard growing might also have an impact on the method that the brain develops or the chemistry that helps (or impedes) certain functions. (Not that beard growing and aptitude for math are necessarily complimentary, they may in fact detract from each other.) I’d be surprised that if a definitive study was done eliminating other (largely environmental) factors and it found that men and women have exactly the same aptitudes in all things.

Strangely, math scores from SAT’s over the last 20(?) years, comparing boys to girls, were shown on the news the other night, seemingly lending credence to Dr. Sum.mers statement. As a lead in to the graph the newscaster qualified the data citing likely social factors. No kidding. Why present it at all then? Or better yet, why not compare the top five or ten percentiles (perhaps reflecting only those that had been encouraged to pursue math?) It couldn’t be that hard to do. The sample size would likely be large enough to have a meaningful result and it would eliminate (at least some) environmental factors. Freakin’ Idgits.

What if this, or some other decent study was done and found that women actually had a stronger aptitude for math than men? I really wouldn’t care. I wouldn’t bemoan the fact biology handed me the (slightly) shorter end of the math stick and I certainly wouldn’t try to fashion that stick into a crutch. When I’m told or read that women are innately superior to men in communications it doesn’t make me feel any worse about myself. And it certainly doesn’t dissuade me from using what meager language skills I possess.

I now present a few quotes from a far better communicator, Margaret Wen.te, as appeared in today’s G&M:

“Sometimes the surest way to upset people is to tell the truth. These days it’s not permitted to say there might be cognitive differences… between men and women.”

“Today, women outnumber men in many law and medical schools…. But at the hard-core end of the science spectrum… they’re still a minority.”

“…at the furthest end of the bell curve of pure mathematic(s) (women’s) numbers are practically at the vanishing point. But so are the number of female NBA players and psychopathic killers. And we don’t get our knickers in a knot over that”

Whether or not there's a differnce in aptitudes there certainly could be, so unknot you knickers or unbunch your boxers, differences aren't necessarily bad.

Bass-Ackward Rationalization

2005-01-20T10:12:00.000-05:00

See, see - this - is why I drink.

Really, it's for the health benefits.

Now it they'll only do a study that co-relates the benefits to the number of drinks consumed...

Puzzled About What To Write

2005-01-18T10:54:00.000-05:00

I must be getting better, I finally got around to shaving. Not that the mountain man look doesn't have its advantages but damn, it's itchy. Anyhoo, I haven't really been out and about enough to get into any sort of interesting trouble so in lieu of praising the merits of syndicated television I present you all a challenge:

In increasing difficulty, three questions from seemingly random sources.

[1] From a McK.insey & Co. interview:

You are given a scale (ala the scales of justice) and 8 objects that are identical in every way except one weighs more. What is the minimum number of weighings necessary to definitively determine which object is heavier and how is it done?

[2] Flipping channels I caught this on some game show:

What is the circumfrence of the Earth at the equator? Without actually having this factoid stored in your head there are ways to calculate the answer. I know one I'm sure there are others and would like to hear them. What's your guess and how did you arrive at it?

[3] From the most-wacked out, and likely most intelligent, girl I've dated:

Same sort of setup as #1 but you have 12 objects, one of which is either lighter OR heavier. What is the minimum number of weighings necessary to difinitively determine which object is the outlier and whether it is heavier or lighter? How do you do it?

If someone can get [3] I'd be willing to give some sort of prize, what I have no idea so:

[4] What can I offer as a prize for the puzzle king/queen?

Have fun.

Hints in comments.

Going Around

2005-01-12T10:11:00.000-05:00

There’s obviously some sort of bug going around out there and I’ve got it too. A stupid annoying head cold; and I didn’t even get to kiss any strange girls to get it *sigh*

When sick, I’m usually one to employ willful denial and try to conduct life as usual, even when regularly emitting trumpet-like blasts blowing my nose and turning said nose red enough that I could likely guide a sleigh on a foggy night. Though unintentional, this likely makes me one of those evil bastards that come into the office/store/pub and introduce the overcrowded herd of germs inhabiting their nasal passages to your greener, unsullied pastures.

This time though my normal remedies and pigheadedness aren’t quite doing their job. In concert with my other symptoms I haven’t been able to sleep for more than 3 hours a night since Thursday and it’s taking a toll. I intended to go out tonight and cause some trouble but I begrudgingly have to admit it’d be too much and I’ll be staying in. One less hazard out there I guess.

Stay well/get better everybody.

Confidence

2005-01-10T13:31:00.000-05:00

WARNING: Contains teasers that won’t be elaborated upon.

Confidence is a funny thing. With most everything being subject to the capricious mistress of luck, even the best strategies can fail causing a cascade of self-doubt. For instance, when I played poker for a living I won 46 of the 50 weeks I played. But after each of those weeks that I lost I’d be left wondering if I really knew what I was doing. Even going and looking over the numbers for the whole endeavor couldn’t fully restore faith in my play.

A biz-school friend of mine, though not a poker player, has been very active in the stock market and even gave day trading a go for a year. Although successful, he too suffered from similar blows to his confidence when short-term results lagged behind historical expectation.

As a tradition we get together a couple of times a year and give a poor, lonely, neglected bottle of scotch a good home. Friday, it was a sherry cask aged bottle of Balv.enie, and yes, it was very good, both the scotch and the company. As is typical we update each other on how things are going and often use each other as sounding boards for biz ideas we’ve got floating around.

Things this time were a little different; he’s found a position that seems a good fit (after leaving the stifling environment of banking (sorry, couldn’t help myself)), we never got around to discussing others from school and I atypically delayed asking him for advice about my current ongoing concern. His advice is usually top-notch and even in retrospect I can’t figure out why I took so long to talk about my project.

Basically, the prime thing that I needed to discuss is whether or not I should try and raise some funds to accelerate the growth of the business I’m working on. The reasons to raise capital are legion (I just needed to write that, “legion” hee hee) but the project’s at an early enough stage that I’d have to give up a lot, maybe too much.

In addition to his take on things I was in part hoping that he would impart a boost in confidence for my undertaking. I’ve already had one effort go down in Hiroshima-like flames and although minor, have recently (Nov) been handed a setback in my current business. After beating around the bush a little I finally got around to the crux of the matter, did he recommend that I seek funding?

Much better than expected not only did he impart some of his typically excellent advice but offered to invest himself. As a result, subsequent to shaking off the residue of the scotch in my bloodstream I’ve been happily toiling away all weekend. Whether or not I go ahead with fund raising my confidence is back up. Funny how that works.

Parri.sh defeats Carls.on

2005-01-07T10:37:00.000-05:00

I haven't yet watched Fox N.ews and after viewing this video sent to me by Krazy Courier Girl I likely won't anytime soon. The video should be work safe unless idiots yelling spurious arguments overtop of one another is unacceptable. For a text version click here.

It also includes a segment of the Cross.fire show featuring Caroyln Par.rish and Tucker Carl.son. Also not a fan of this show I couldn't tell you if Mr. Carlson's incoherent hate-mongering and superior attitude were typical. At least CNN let this bufoon go.

Why anyone would want to watch "pundits", and I use the term loosely, pat their country on the back in such unmeaningful ways I have no clue.

Scary stuff.

Checking the Odometer

2005-01-04T15:40:00.000-05:00

Last post I bitched about the inane practice of celebrating New Years. What sense is there in celebrating the passage of time? Well maybe it gives you a marker to gain some perspective.

New Year’s Day I woke up at a buddy’s house with a minor hangover. The evening before was nothing special, neither was having a hangover for that matter. My friend, like many others recently, has a burgeoning interest in poker and has begun playing online. He knows about the year I spent playing the game professionally and was curious about the casinos around that have the game. Having little else to do we decided to head to the venue where I used to ply my trade.

Other than online or at home games I haven’t played in years. In a skuzzy way the lifestyle certainly has its appeal. You make you own hours, there’s no one to answer to and there’s a certain dirtbag glamour to playing cards for a living. Once upon a time I would average four days a week playing for 10 or so hours a session. Needless to say I was a bit of a fixture and was well known by the staff and the other regulars (either professionals or degenerates or both).

From the time of my arrival to our departure 12 hours later a bevy of dealers, pit bosses, players and servers would come by and say hello, wondering what I’d been up to during my long hiatus. In all, it must have been over 100 people. Wow. What makes this even more odd was that it was brought to my attention how long it had really been.

An old gambling acqaintance noted how short(!) my hair was. Sure enough, I used to have long locks but that was at least 4 ½ years ago. Enough time has elapsed since I was last at the casino for my hair to be cut short (for the temporary dalliance I had with cultivating a traditional career) and for it to grow to its current state as a mad-scientist like mop and for me to become accustomed to it.

If for nothing else I guess that’s what New Year’s is good for, marking the passage of time. Damn, time flies.

Incoherent New Years Rant

2004-12-31T11:22:00.000-05:00

Being a bit of a contrarian (or perhaps just a pain in the ass) while everyone else on New Year's is making resolutions to get healthier through changes in things like diet, habit or exercise, I generally make resolutions to drink and smoke more. Not this year though. My drinking has reached a happy little plateau that I wouldn't want to deviate from and smoking is becoming too much a pain in the ass to continue.

The smoking ban in T.O. has actually had an influence on me. It’s not the inconvenience itself it’s just that smoking has become such an inconvenience that it has made me realize how addicted I am. That's what really pisses me off.

Now why would I (or anyone else for that matter) select January 1st as a good quit date? Sounds stupid to me. With people cocooning themselves, hiding from the winter there’s so little going on to distract oneself this must be the hardest time of year to quit. Oh, but you say it’s a new year? So fekking what? The entirely arbitrary beginning of the year has begun. Why should this matter? It doesn’t to me. I don’t care when the odometer in the car rolls over either.

And this whole celebration thing, that’s stupid too. Why celebrate something so inane? Everyone else is drinking so why shouldn’t I too? Well I’ll tell you: Typical Fridays are bad enough, tonight every bar is packed to claustrophobia inducing levels, service is terrible, taxis are virtually impossible to find and perhaps the largest reason of all, everyone else is doing it.

Anyways, Happy New Year's everybody.

A Late Gift

2004-12-27T10:04:00.000-05:00

One of my oldest friends is doing postdoc work that requires that he spend part of the year on the coast of Thailand. He's over there right now and this time had brought his wife and young son over with him. Hearing about the earthquake Boxing Day and the ensuing tsunamis caused me to worry until I received a group email.

Hi All,

We've had several calls so thought we would head off any futher worries by letting you all know that we are ok. the Tsunami hit the west coast (Andemann coast) and we are on the gulf coast, the other one.

We didn't even feel the effects of the earthquake and did not hear about it until R's parents called to see if we were ok. We've been watching the news since last night so probably only know as much as you do. Although this morning several military helicopters flew over campus in the direction of Phuket, one assumes they were headed there to help.

Hope you all are well,
Love,
R and R

Being reassured that those you care about are safe really makes a great gift.

Merry Christmas!

2004-12-24T19:29:00.000-05:00

I was going to write about my most favourite Christmas but it just doesn’t seem appropriate. The story was basically about how one year in particular everything just fell into place; how even my car breaking down in the middle of Scarberia on the coldest Christmas in memory couldn’t ruin a great day.

So anyway, may everything fall into place for you over the holidays, failing alternators be damned.

Have a Merry Christmas everybody.

I'm Done

2004-12-22T17:11:00.000-05:00

I'm done

I'm done

I'm done, I'm done, I'm done.

Christmas shopping that is...

Booze assisted wrapping tonight and this will be the earliest I've been ready ever.

Yay!

That's all.

The Stuff You Find

2004-12-21T19:28:00.000-05:00

I've recently scrubbed the old hard drive and now, after many headaches, have finally put things back together. In the process I found plenty of stuff that I had completely forgotten about or just plain lost track of including this.

src="http://img137.exs.cx/img137/9857/cougar7xo.th.jpg" border="0" alt="Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us" />

It was emailed to me aeons ago and I have no idea where it came from. I so wanted to forward it when Pooky posted her bit about cougars but I just couldn't locate it. Ah, it's been a few weeks but it doesn't matter, it's not like she's posted in the meantime. Come back Pooky.

Guy Talk

2004-12-21T11:48:00.000-05:00

I’m out having a pre-Christmas tipple with Ed last night and of course we get around to talking about women. Ed was updating me on the 6-week challenge and listing off some criteria he looks for in women.

Me: I’m not much for lists any more ever since that girl I told you about. You remember the one who got a check mark in every box of my extensive list, yet I somehow forgot to make a box for nice.

Ed: Yeah. Even though I posted that stuff up on your blog I’m not much for lists either.

Me: Although there’s a bunch of other items for “the list” the one real deal-breaker I’m down to is that any potential girl has to be better than me at something I respect. It could be water-colours, differential calculus, or writing blog entries, just something I care about.

Ed: Ah, I’m not so sure. I see where you’re coming from but really, as long as it’s something.

Me: But what if she’s better at knitting? What if she’s the world champion macramae artist? Could you feign an interest in the trials and tribulations of international macramae competitions? Could you keep the act up indefinitely?

Ed: I guess you have a point.

Me: That and she needs to be nice too. Well kind really. I used to be quite wary of “nice” people I’d just met. I’d either think they were misleading me or were just simple.

Ed: (laughs)

Yeah, I've got issues with nice.

And the boys from the NYPD choir are singing...

2004-12-16T11:25:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling all wintery but not Christmasy yet. Shouting out Rudolph and Deck the Halls in the gym used to do it for me as a kid; now I have to rely on others. Time to scour the media library for some tunes and hopefully get a little more in the spirit.

I don't have much but here's the list thus far:

Tunes

XTC - Thanks For Christmas
John Lennon - So This Is Christmas
Cocteau Twins - Frosty the Snowman
Silver Bells - Bing Crosby
Crosby/Bowie - Little Drummer Boy/Peace On Earth
Ramones - Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight)
Pogues - Fairytale of New York
Handel - Messiah

Flicks

It's A Wonderful Life (2 copies)
Miracle On 34th St. (remake)

I could use more, any suggestions?

Do kids in primary school still sing carols in the gymnasium, or is that not PC?

You Can't Write This Shit

2004-12-14T10:14:00.000-05:00

(because no one would believe it, it just sounds too contrived.)

I'm out last night having a few pints with my sister at her billiards league. While (not) watching others shoot pool we were talking at length about a mutual acquaintance, MA, who is running into problems at work. Basically, MA takes her job WAY too seriously and in a supervisory role nit picks so much she makes life hell for all those under her. Her behaviour has become so intolerable that it has generated numerous official grievances filed by both those under her and others at her same level.

As we were talking my sister and I, well mainly me, applied a little pop psychology to the situation. The diagnosis, as is sadly typical, was that she has such a small life that she invests far too much of her self-worth into her job.

One of the people sitting with us, though not part of the conversation, is actively eavesdropping and occasionally interjects with the occasional "how anal", "how true", and "needs to lighten up" obviously paying more attention to our little chat than the pool.

Shortly after this part of the discussion wraps up my sister has to play against him in the league. The match progresses and although there was some drama Eavesdropper takes the contest in straight racks. Winning though was apparently insufficient for him; numerous times he would bang the table after missing a shot, more than once he loudly vocalized how upset (no kidding) he was with his performance, threatening to snap his cue and exhibiting numerous other tantrum like activities.

I thought he was listening when we were talking about MA. Some people need to get a life. Or at least listen once and a while.

Coincidence

2004-12-12T22:56:00.000-05:00

Sometimes events conspire and friends just drift apart. Sometimes it's not just coincidence.

I have a few acquaintances and some friends that make a living as screenwriters. Over a year ago one of them was interviewing for a job on a story team for a show that dealt with subject matter that they were unfamiliar with. As I did know a smattering about what the series would be dealing with this person called me up prior to the interview. I brought them up to speed with what was going on in the area and even helped suggest a few prospective story lines as this was likely to be part of the interview as well. I have no idea how much my input helped but they ended up getting the job.

As the job went along I’d be asked occasionally for ideas or feedback. I’d just shoot my mouth off and think nothing of it. I must have had some sort of impact as I learned that one of the characters who needed a surname was given mine. I’m still not sure how I feel about this as the role is a small one and a tad shady, but it was nice to be recognized (I guess).

Time flies by and this person and I have a bit of a falling out. There wasn’t any big blow out or anything but we haven’t talked in months. In this time the episodes of the show that they worked on have started to air and I’ve been watching as a number of the story lines that I suggested so long ago actually come to the screen. Now, this may or may not have had anything to do with me as they (somewhat) naturally follow from the subject matter but I find it curious. Even more curious is that one of the characters (not the one with the appropriated surname) shares a very specific trait with me; given the unusual circumstances the odds are reduced to about 1 in 30; odd but not out of the realm of possibility.

Now that’s a whole bunch of coincidences. One would think it likely that I was a significant help to this person. If someone helped me liked this I’d probably try and do something nice for them; a thank you gift, dinner, a bottle of Scotch, something like that. Perhaps naming the (shady) character after me was this thanks. But it’s not. My surname is generic yet fairly rare, perfect for this sort of thing; they needed a name and it was just easy for them to use. What bugs me is that assuming my input was important (it may not have been) there is no way this person would recognize it; they’re just too self-absorbed. I guess it’s no coincidence that I haven’t spoken to them in a while.

Crabby Asked...

2004-12-11T22:38:00.000-05:00

Crabby asked: Granola girl, naughty or nice?

Is GG nice? What’s nice?

From the Oxford Concise Dictionary the definition that seems closest.

6. (colloq.) agreeable (yes, she most often agrees to go out), attractive (uh-huh), delightful (well, no. she’s a bit of a pessimist), well-flavoured (wish I knew), satisfactory (see well-flavoured, no satisfaction yet), kind (little evidence either way), friendly (to me yes, she can apparently come off as aloof though), considerate (hmm, again limited evidence but she’s often late and forgets many details so, no), generally commendable (hell, nobody’s perfect so yes.)

Nice. What good is nice? To me nice is forcing oneself to be pleasant. I’m not nice. Give me kind with a little politeness any day; I can do without nice.

Naughty (from the same source)

(Used of, to, or by children, or in imit. of childish speech), wayward, disobedient, badly behaved; wicked, blameworthy, unbecoming, indecent

Frankly, she talks a good game but I've yet to witness any naughtiness from GG. Maybe the merest bit of mischief.

The question was likely to get me to elaborate on why I'm taken with GG. I know I didn't answer it; I'm naughty.

Requests?

2004-12-09T13:51:00.000-05:00

I’ve really got nothing for you, some low level irritation, some stress over Christmas shopping, some stories that don’t wrap up nicely; nothing worth a good rant or tale. I’ve never really seemed to be all that good at gauging what others will find interesting so I’ll open this up for requests and I promise to write about what get the most votes (even if it’s only one).

Secret Santa

2004-12-06T09:21:00.000-05:00

How well do you know your corner of the blogoshpere? What would you get your links/visitors/comments for Christmas? Try to keep it cheap but if you can't there's no penalty.

Radmila - A mixed CD of all my faves and a private cooking lesson to further hone her already prodigious skills

Icy - Vino, Wolf Blass & Bin 555 if I can't think of anything soon.

Snobby – CD’s, Death Cab For Cutie, Transatlanticism and The Postal Service, Give Up

Dantallion – A subscription for the Economist

Nancy – the x-Files on DVD; it's TV, it's got aliens, I hope she'll like it

Mikevil – Gin!

Markus – Books – Sci-Fi, The Sparrow, Mary Doria Russell and Perdido Street Station, China Mieville

Crabby - A book of essays by George Orwell including Politics and the English Language

Papa Rocker - Cleats. My team need him next year for ball.

Ed (who has no blog)– A new baseball glove – his is falling apart

Chip - A gift cerificate for the Silver Snail

Lynda. - My fave gender bending books Triton, Samuel R. Delaney and Myra Breckinridge, Gore Vidal

Part 5

2004-12-02T10:29:00.000-05:00

I’m sick of this wedding story. You likely are too.

So in short:

I got my brother ready.
I didn’t look too bad either.

The bride looked great.
And the ceremony went very well.

I thought Aunt did a much better job than the pastor the night before

The reception was a reception, nothing special.

Done.

Part 4 - Stag

2004-11-30T13:15:00.000-05:00

After the ceremony on the beach and the requisite signing of the license there was a short break before the bridal shower and “stag” were to start. If the “stag” was to be of the traditional type with peelers, perhaps being married before the festivities would have complicated matters, however plans were to simply provide some booze-enabled gender-specific bonding time for a few hours before the men and women were to meet up later at the one local bar that was open (being off season, the other one that offered a dance floor was closed.)

The “stag” itself was uneventful. In a short period of time the alcohol did its work and the various groups (childhood cronies, undergrad mates, work associates, parents friends etc.) got to know one another. Things went so well that politics were even discussed en masse and no one’s voice needed to be raised. The whole-scale migration of the two parties to the bar was somewhat chaotic as finding cabs (it’s a small island) or someone sober enough to drive proved somewhat problematic. Fortunately, there were a couple of non-drinkers (cheers, to pregnant designated drivers!) equipped with large mini-vans. Apparently, this type of vehicle works just as well ferrying hordes of drunken men and women to bars as it does screaming youth to soccer practice.

The bar was basically a generic roadhouse, albeit one hard to access on the far end of an island. While my parents and their friends far outdid the youngsters on the dance floor most of my time was spent meeting the women from the bridal shower (imagine that). Due to an apparent striking resemblance to my brother I rarely had to introduce myself to anyone as they had already surmised who I was. Other than our height, build and hair colour I don’t really see it, you be the judge:

After the roadhouse a number of us decided to continue drinking back at the hotel. I ended up with a bunch of my brother’s oldest friends. A few drinks later discussion switched to how “inappropriate” it was that the couple spend the night before the wedding together. To remedy this uncouth situation a kidnap mission was proposed where the group would lure my brother from his room and bring him back to theirs. At this point I had to remind the fellows that this was, in a way, the actual wedding night and that to keep him from the marital bed would be dangerous. After considering, they were dissuaded from this strategy but still needed to engage in some sort of shenanigan.

Mulling over the possibilities the decision was eventually reached to snatch him from the room and throw him in the pool (aren’t drunken decisions always the best?). The group of us, cameras at the ready, trooped over to his place and while most of us lay in wait two of the fellows proceeded to knock unceasingly on the couple’s door; foolishly, he should have known something was up, my brother answered.

As with most hastily laid (and drunken) plans things did not quite go as foreseen; my brother ended kicking (sometimes literally) up quite a fuss and the pool was a fair distance away. Being bright lads they improvised and carried my brother to the ocean, which was much closer at hand. Luckily no one was hurt (much) and my brother declaring old debts now settled headed back to his room while the rest of us ran over to the pool for a late night dip.

We had a short swim before calling an end to the evening; some sleep and recovery time was needed before the ceremony the next day...

Part 3 - The Rehearsal That Wasn't

2004-11-29T11:05:00.000-05:00

From where I left off…

Friday morning was set aside to do some exploring of the island while my brother and SIL were to go off and meet the pastor and check out the hall where the wedding and reception are to take place. The expedition was rather uneventful as other than pretty beaches, golf carts and a small, quaint downtown there really wasn’t much to the island.

After a late lunch we returned to the hotel to get ready for the rehearsal. Shortly after our return my brother shows up and announces, “There’s been a change in plans.” Apparently the meeting with the pastor didn’t go well. First, the pastor proved to be “out there” and too odd for my brother and SIL. Secondly, though nominally of different faiths my brother and SIL, Protestant and Jewish respectively, don’t really get what all the fuss is about when it comes to religion, so hence wanted a progressive pastor that wouldn’t talk about Jesus/God/Whatever too much. Perhaps being a wingnut qualifies as progressive in Florida but there was far too much weirdness, Jaysus and otherwise, for the couple. Lastly, the pastor had double booked herself for Saturday afternoon when the wedding was to take place.

After deliberating my brother and SIL decided to replace the rehearsal with the actual legal wedding. The wingnut pastor would preside over an intimate ceremony on the beach, while for the larger wedding the next day, SIL’s aunt would preside at the hall. Aunt isn’t accredited to legally marry anyone, she was simply drafted as she had the reputation as an excellent public speaker. Surprisingly, as my brother is a little Type A, he seemed to be taking the big change in plans all in stride. He assured us that SIL was similarly nonplussed by the new arrangements, the ceremony was to take place in an hour and was to be a casual affair.

After quickly getting ready and worrying what “casual” really means the 8 guests, the happy couple and the pastor congregate on the beach.

With the exceptions of a little too much big spirit talk, one evangelical outburst and a tense moment when the pastor asked if she could pray for the couple things went really well. The setting was gorgeous, the couple radiant and all the guests just beaming with happiness for them.

To be continued.

Necessary Back Story

2004-11-26T11:36:00.000-05:00

Continued from yesterday…

The flight down itself was uneventful and was made a little ~~more tolerable~~ less untolerable by a couple of factors: I’m apparently tall enough that without prompting I’m offered the seats by the emergency exit that have more leg room and flying into a smallish airport simplifies baggage claim, finding car rental kiosks etc. and proves to be a much more humane experience than gargantuan Pearson.

As expected the weather was perfect (and stayed that way all week), the airport’s announcement were bilingual (Spanish/English), palm trees abounded, and the first bit of Florida oddness presented itself: on the doors of the airport was a sign, the same dimensions as the No Smoking one, indicating that firearms are not permitted on the premises. Egad, I knew guns were fairly ubiquitous down south, but really is a sign required? Frightening.

After making our way down to the hotel and checking in my sister and parents settle in for a nap before we are due to go for dinner and meet sister-in-law’s (SIL) parents for the first time. My folks are very laid-back and don’t stand on ceremony. In fact, if they could find ceremony they’d likely find a way to use it as a recliner. Leading up to the wedding there had been plenty of contact between the families yet for a variety of reasons my parents were somewhat anxious about meeting and making a good impression for my brother’s sake. Fortunately their worries were unfounded and the dinner later that night went very well; the in-laws are super nice, friendly and extremely welcoming.

Dinner itself was over simple fare (pizza, salad and booze) at their home nearby. The evening wrapped up fairly early as the happy couple had, being the day before the wedding, a very busy schedule for the next day (Friday). Due to their hectic careers and geographic distance from Florida my Brother and SIL had left the majority of the wedding arrangement up to SIL’s mother and hence were meeting the pastor and seeing the hall for the first time.

More later today…

The Joys of Travelling With Family or Displaying Others Underwear For Fun & Profit

2004-11-25T14:10:00.000-05:00

For those who haven’t kept up to date with things here, I just returned from a week in Florida for my brother’s wedding and some R&R.

Foresight not always being 20/20 my parents, sister and I decided to book our transportation and lodging for the trip south together. Through a rather convoluted process my uncle, who was not invited to the wedding, at the last minute ~~somehow volunteered~~ ~~was enlisted~~ forced himself upon us to drive the four of us to the airport. Uncle had previously been told a whitish lie; he was not invited to the wedding because it was going to be a small intimate ceremony. There’s a litany of reasons why he and my aunt really weren’t invited but basically he’s just an ignorant loudmouthed know-it-all type. Whatever he’s interested in/driving/pursuing at any given moment is THE thing and if you aren’t doing/into/driving it you’ve just got it all WRONG. Of course, whatever IT is, IT is subject to change at a moments notice, contradictions and hypocrisy be damned.

What would normally just have been an uncomfortable drive was complicated by the fact that in order to avoid unintentionally revealing the true size of the wedding and avert the inevitable fall-out, the expected small talk about the upcoming nuptials needed to be diverted to other topics. Although we had to put up with the resulting ill-informed soapbox rant on the ways of the world, for once Uncle’s tendency for ignorant pontificating was appreciated and our small deception went undetected.

After arriving at the airport things proceeded rather quickly through the ticket counter. Being the largest and most firmly connected to reality of the four of us going through I was porter of all the luggage as well as the designated holder of important documents on our way to U.S. Customs. I haven’t travelled much as of late and this was my first trip south since 9/11. In the interim I’ve heard many horror stories of incidents at customs and was thus somewhat anxious about going through.

After a long wait in line we quickly passed the first Customs officer and were then separated as I had to put the luggage through the X-ray machine. Loading all the bags onto the belt the other three went ahead likely not even registering the fact that I was occupied. Whether by random chance or because something looked funny after the suitcases and garment bags had gone through I was pulled aside by an officer who asked to look through my father’s luggage.

As I’m undoing the unfamiliar straps and zippers to open his bag for the Customs agent’s examination the rest of my family looks over and notices that I’ve “gone a different way.” My father in full rumpled (physics) professor mode (though he’s an actuary, the stereotypes holds remarkably well) ambles over to where I am watching the Customs guy swab the inside of his suitcase (for traces of explosives?)

Entirely oblivious to my anxiety and what is going on my father then says to his errant child, “Benjamin, come over here. We have to go this way”

“Uh, Dad, I’m a little busy at the moment.” I reply.

“But Benjamin, we have to go this way.” repeats my father, still not cluing in.

“Dad.” I clip, “I’ll be with you soon.”

Whether it was my tone, the accompanying look or that he finally realized that I wasn’t showing his underwear to a uniformed stranger just for fun, he finally took the hint and wobbled back to the others adjusting his belt on the way.

After quickly testing the swab of the suitcase, the mysterious insta-shiner was proved to be innocuous and I was allowed to proceed through Customs and join the others without further incident.

Damn I worry about the wrong things. Customs, pshaw. A week travelling closely w/ family now that's scary.

Hello, hello

2004-11-25T08:38:00.000-05:00

Hello it’s me and I’m back again
I’m back, back, back
As a matter of fact I’m back

(bonus points for naming the tune + artist)

With Ed filling in for me so admirably you may not have noticed my absence, but believe it or not I’ve migrated home, slightly darker, equipped with a gaggle of wonderful, new extended family and a bunch of new material to babble on about for days.

Stories I’ll likely get to:

The trip down – US customs w/ the folks
The wedding rehearsal that wasn’t
Prepping my brother – best man issues
The most unattainable girl in the whole world – of course I’m infatuated

And perhaps others, maybe even today, if I ever finish getting up to date with my correspondence.

9 hours and 33 minutes since coffee

2004-11-23T21:16:00.000-05:00

Not until the near end of a long day did I learn that my next 48 hours of career will be monopolized by daylong bargaining sessions about which I am not only ill-informed, but are important enough that I will have to sit at the end of a boardroom table with my trap closed shut and my eyes open. How disheartening this fact is, no matter much drama and/or excitement it will no doubt bring to my professional life. Two things pulled me through this; the first being the fact that the long hours of crap I will have to endure demand that I buy, and subsequently cook, a big-assed frozen lasagna for a little return-home, left-over comfort food, and two; that my landlords honked and waved when they saw me on the corner this morning.

Now it goes without saying that they're overjoyed they suckered me into signing another full years' lease as opposed to having me go to month-to-month, but still I will admit that it's these little things that can make a person's day. Which is why it's strange there aren't ever enough of them to go around, especially when times are tough.

Before I continue on, I should update the "6 Week Challenge". Those readers of Benjamin that I have yet to repel (hangers-on can thank God I've only got another day) may remember that I was challenged to have a girlfriend in 6 weeks, a task that is superficial, yet still a challenge (which is why I call it the "6 Week Challenge". But I digress...). In order to further complicate things, I figured that it might be a smart goal to try and meet someone everyday, be it the person serving me my coffee two hours later than normal or the guy asking for change on the street. This is way harder than you might think, even for someone as charming as I can, if so pressed, be.

A perfect example of this is a girl who lives on my street (or at least a girl who I assume still lives on my street). Over the course of the past summer, she and I passed by one another everyday, if not more than that, without saying a word to one another. Part of me was intimidated by her while a part of me was intimidated by this city and the belief that if I were to actually even say 'Hi' I'd be immediately branded a lunatic. Of course, after some encouragement, I said 'Hi'.

I haven't seen her since.

I played it smart and chalked this experience up to the poor humour of fate as opposed to her being an anti-stalker, but still I have yet to say 'Hi' to anyone I've crossed on the street since, almost as if it would curse me into never passing by that person ever again. With that said, people I'm already friends with should be counted in a different category, and as I left work earlier this evening, I bumped into a couple who I adore. Ben will know them as Phillip and Julie, others won't know them at all, but they're truly two of those great people you never can know enough of and obviously worth more than just 'Hi'. They also were kind enough to point me in the direction of President's Choice frozen lasagna.

So as I continued on, stumbling onto the corner of Queen and University without much of a clue where to find PC lasagna, I found myself side-by-side with another girl. A girl who I currently pass by on the street on a nearly daily basis and whom I've, obviously, never spoken with.

It took a couple of seconds before...

"Excuse me, you may not know this, but we pass by one another almost every morning."

No response.

"Yeah, I'm half asleep then too. But I wanted to tell you this this morning and didn't and now I have another chance. Those are really great shoes."

She kind of laughed. Now it was at that point is when I'm 100% of the belief she's probably thinking I'm a lunatic, but the shoes were lime green and weren't running away, so I had no choice but to tell her.

"Thank you," she replied in a part shy, part shocked manner.

That's when my street light turned and I told her to have nice night as I continued on my way, a smile somehow emerging from deep within. Halfway across University is when I truly learned that my landlords were onto something when they retired and turned crazy. To hell with this city and its frigid nature. It's time to rejoice with a frozen lasagna, two tall boys of Heineken and some Jeff Tweedy air-guitar.

And we'll all wait to learn if I ever see her again.

71 Minutes Til Coffee

2004-11-23T10:36:00.000-05:00

After speaking with a friend who is also going through changes (and perhaps realizing that I must be more self-absorbed than I thought because I wasn't noticing her changes, as evident as they now are in hindsight), I decided to switch things up in my schedule today in spirit of ending my own complacency.

So I skipped my morning coffee in favour of coffee and sushi, a combo I quite enjoy, for my upcoming lunch.

And it's killing me.

Very slowly.

On the bright side, on my walk to work this morning, my landlords noticed me around Queen West and honked and waved.

You really don't get that enough in this city.

Grand Theft Weekend

2004-11-21T22:33:00.000-05:00

According to Julia Cameron, I'm a blocked creative.

For those of you who don't know me - that means pretty much everyone who reads this - in a former life, I was a screenwriter. I say former because my life has changed recently. 2 months ago I left a cushy office day job and I retired from the two writing projects I was working on in the evenings in exchange for what could be best described as a "career opportunity" . Unfortunately, as great as the opportunity is, and even though it is within the film "industry", it isn't exactly what I thought my career would be. When discovered as a young writer - and I use the word "discovered" as lightly as I use the word "industry" - I was once told that within 5 years I'd be in LA making 500k a year. That was nearly 5 years and far too many quotation marks ago.

Now, truth be told, neither money nor locale appeal all that much to me but feeling fulfilled is awfully important and over the past two months, I think not writing was getting to me a bit. This is one of the main reasons for my little guest appearance here. To kick out the jams a bit. And much to my excitment, this little bit of blogging inspired me on Friday to jump back into the screenwriting fray, this time strictly for my own pleasure. This weekend I decided I would dedicate time for myself and my Final Draft.

This of course meant that I spent way too long cleaning, doing laundry, attending a birthday party, going for coffee and of course, probably a full day fucking around in San Andreas. In fact, other than maybe 2-3 solid scenes, this entry would constitute the most actual, physical writing I've done in...well...2 months. Considering that I need approximately 60, but more like 70 solid scenes for a first draft, I'm looking at 30 consecutive Sundays before I have anything really to show and when I (no doubt) have a girlfriend within 6 weeks, most of those Sundays will be double-booked for such things as brunches, flea markets, tea with scones and whatnot. This is also not to mention that my career picks itself back up tomorrow morning.

So in the spirit of The Artists' Way, aka Ms. Cameron's Course in Discovering and Recovering Your Creative Self, I'm going to re-discover my identity just by listing things about me. Consider it an introduction just as I'm considering it a way to write without really saying anything:

b. December, 25, 1975, height: 5'10, weight: 160??,eyes: blue, hair: curly
I used to be able to speak French and was, at a time, ambidextrious
I have one brother, who's 16 months younger
He might be my best friend
I would say I have a great number of friends, but not too many that are close
And my folks are still together, still living on the same street I grew up on.
I have no kids of my own
I don't like to wear ties, even though they're sometimes a necessary evil
I would say I'm not a religious person
I was once William Hurt's hand double
I've sold mushroom compost fertilizer and have boated through a sewage lagoon
I don't have cable but still love Charlie Rose
I'm a Chicago Cubs fan
In fact, I like most animals and would really like a dog
I love 70's Hollywood and Looney Tunes
Favorite pizza topping is Pepperoni
Favorite cheesecake is chocolate
But I don't normally eat dessert

I think that's about all for now. At least I didn't have to make anything up.

Poker Reference #1

2004-11-19T13:16:00.000-05:00

During my walk home last night from a small good-bye party, a confidant of mine noted that I

a) have a hard time telling people how I feel and

b) seemed / looked unhappy.

Her first observation threw me off and I still haven't the slightest clue what she's trying to say; I think I'm pretty open, often cases too open. But letter b is what really got me.

"Me? Unhappy?"

After deciding that perhaps I needed a shave and that my scraggily appearance may have been a factor in my looking unhappy, I was shocked to find that I still questioned her read of me while fresh faced and fancy free. Of course I couldn't come out and tell her I was unhappy (read letter a) so to her I realized that I must seem unhappy.

Damn.

I consider this woman to be a fine judge of character and her concern worried me. I've just started a new job and recently dropping previous baggage from prior work/relationships, etc. had me feeling like a new man (at least in some ways). Things were finally coming together, and now this. I seem unhappy. To her it seems that I'm missing something.

Now, she believes that I am in need of settling down and while my next 6 week plan may scream that she's right, I came to the belief that MissWAD isn't what I'm necessarily lacking, (even though, literally, I am). It's very sweet to have friends like her who show concern but after realizing that for me, the next 40 and one-half days really are only a way for me to shake things up a bit I too came to the conclusion that it's not a partner I'm missing. I also came to the conclusion that the very need to 'shake things up' means I am in fact missing something.

I just don't know what it is.

And that is the problem. The key to my apparent unhappiness is that I don't know what I'm missing. It's tough to not be able to put my finger on what it is I'm lacking, even though I know I'm lacking it. And this goes right back to the very insightful comments regarding my first post. Perhaps my standards are impossibly high. Perhaps even when things are going well I can't help but dwell on the fact they aren't still even better.

Earlier in the day I went to lunch with a different confidant - a very old friend and a woman who at one point acted as my counsel in all affairs of the heart. A successful, ambitious gal, we've not seen each other much as her career, and now family (not to mention her pregnant stomach), is starting to grow. She weighed in on what I should be looking for in a partner with "someone who's an extrovert and a high-acheiver". But then made sure to explain that we could all waste our lives looking for something better. At some point you've got to play the hand you've been dealt, other than just keep folding like a cheap tent.

I've got 40 days left and I think part of me wants to stop looking even before I've begun.

Late Show

2004-11-18T09:57:00.000-05:00

So I guess I’m guest hosting, and so far I have to believe I’m doing a poor job. I had been meaning to post my first bit yesterday, but my nature as a procrastinator, on top of various social commitments kept me from my keyboard until this morning.

Not to say that I haven’t made appearances in this space before – I’m the Ed of ‘In Progress’ and the friend accosted by the deli server in ‘Cheers to the Abnormal’, but certainly writing about my own take on life is a different job than being a peripheral character in the tales of another.

I will say that Benjamin has no reason to fear for I am certainly not the Leno to his Carson and even if I find blogging to be enlightening, empowering, entertaining, etc., I am certain of one thing; I will fail in filling his eloquent shoes. Much to the delight of his readership, I will promise there will be no coup.

In my coming posts, I will be sure to explain, in at times painful detail, how I haven’t the same economic aplomb or equivalent card playing skills as my buddy Ben. For those jonesing for the same sort of Granola Girl-type soap opera / romance, I’ll try my best to soothe your pains with tales of my own trysts, but don’t get your hopes up for as it turns out, my trysts don’t seem to last very long. This was hammered home in an email exchange I had yesterday, where a friend of mine challenged me to have a girlfriend within 6 weeks. This is a challenge that I’ve decided to take up for a number of reasons:

- It was posed as motivation for my friend to go the gym for 6 weeks and beyond the fact I like challenges, I think that it could be something that improves our friendship which at times is great and at others, tangled at best.
- It may give me something to blog about.
- If I find someone who is worth a damn, then it would an excellent bonus.

“Someone who is worth a damn” would be a young lady who:

- is incredibly smart, but more than that, is confident and comes with her own interests and friends and life
- can roll out of bed, go to a scummy diner without any fuss and still turn heads
- to be completely shallow, is smaller and less insane than I am.

It would seem that these three items are easy to find, however upon closer inspection I’ll often notice that one of the three is often missing in those that I meet. Last night for example, knowing that this challenge had unofficially started I went from work to an anniversary party for a company that produces documentaries, followed by a stint at a local pub to catch the end of the Raptors game. In the course of the evening, I got a bit off track and spent a couple of hours in this very same pub watching Sex & The City with a makeup artist named Helene With Three E’s. Without question, Helene had the first two items on my list down, however I think she might just be crazy and doubt very much that I will chase after her (checking her website this morning cemented this as fact).

Only 41 more days to go. I might need some help.

Post 98

2004-11-17T09:53:00.000-05:00

Well I’m off tomorrow to Florida for my brother’s wedding. I should be gone about a week provided I don’t get eaten by a shark, one of the bridesmaids or stop by the casinos in Tunica and return to making a living as a degenerate poker player; all meals comp’ed and a room for $25/day, I’d best steer clear of Mississippi altogether.

I’ll likely be very busy and I have no idea about internet access where I’ll be, so while I’m away I’ve arranged for Ed, a non-blogging friend of mine, to take the reins here. He’s one of the very few non-citizens of Blogonia that I’ve told about the site and actually seemed keen to give it a try. Not to put too much pressure on, but he’s actually been paid for his writing in the past – I wonder how well it’ll translate into this medium.

Anyway, please be kind, supportive and communicative; maybe we can convince him to start up a blog of his own.

Day of Wonder

2004-11-16T13:37:00.000-05:00

Oddly aligned, a couple of my friends have recently brought up a book on astrology that has detailed descriptions for not just the signs of the zodiac but for each day of the year. I’ve always been deeply biased against astrology. The reasons are legion but the two biggest are:

1) Having the stars predetermine how my life is going to pan out I find unacceptable. I detest anything fatalistic. Whether true or not it is essential for me to believe in free choice; the existential problems generated otherwise would be intolerable.
2) Lumping my personality and character in with 1/12th of the rest of the world attacks many of my delusions of being unique or even unusual. Egad, if I’m like 500 million other people I really lose any sense of being special.

Due to my predisposition I’ve never had a detailed chart done or even read my horoscope regularly and would normally show no interest in what this book had to say. In this case however, it was Granola Girl who was offering to share the information; I wasn’t going to say no.

As with other books of this ilk it lists famous others who share the same day of birth. Up to this point I’d known about some b-list celebrities, sadly including O.J. Sim.pson. This tome though had a less Hollywood centred feel than usual and added Nikola Tesla, the brilliant scientist.

My horoscope/chart/whatever was titled The Day of Wonder and was obviously closely modeled after the life of Tesla. With a title like that and the corresponding glowing description, my attention was caught; obviously it was talking about me, me, me. I momentarily started to rationalize how it might be true. One in 365, much more specific. Hmm, maybe.

Then I wondered what if instead of Tesla the book had based my birthday on O.J. The Day of the Ill-Fitting Glove? Better Get A Good Lawyer Day? Ah astrology, bunch of crap

Reasons #3, #7 & #14

2004-11-14T20:18:00.000-05:00

Why I’m Irascible

#3. People for whom “I don’t know” is not a part of their lexicon. You know the type, you ask a simple question and in response you receive three minutes of hemming and hawing B.S. Often the speaker thinks how impressive it is that they can gab about any subject or talk on their feet, meanwhile I just think what a waste of my time listening to them is. How hard is it to say? I. Don’t. Know.

#7. The faux helpless routine. This typically involves a comment not specifically directed at anyone but said at a volume intended for others to overhear such as “I think the coffee maker is broken” The speaker knows that the coffee maker isn’t broken but yet “needs” the help of others to complete this simple task. Whether unable to ask for help or pathetically looking for sympathy I want to smack people who use this upside the head. If you need assistance just ask. Don’t haphazardly try to manipulate other’s helpful instincts with this transparent ploy. And while you’re at it grow up.

#14. People who think, “If I repeat myself it makes my argument stronger.” Sometimes you may get lucky and the practitioner of this irritating tactic will actually paraphrase what they said the first time round. Usually though you don’t even get the mild distraction of alternate phrasing to soften the blow of this blunt, obtuse tactic. If you are unlucky you will be faced with someone who uses this in concert with #21 (If I keep talking you’ll never be able to rebut what I’ve said). Those who combine these tactics should be prosecuted for crimes against humanity or at least have their tongues cut out.

Playlist

2004-11-09T10:27:00.000-05:00

The current playlist on my little MP3 player.

Joy Division - Transmission
The Smiths - This Charming Man
Moby - Porcelain
LaTour - Allen's Got A New HiFi
Billy Bragg - A New England
Underworld - Born Slippy
A Flock of Seagulls - Wishing
The Crystal Method - Busy Child
Dexy's Midnight Runners - Come On Eileen
The Pixies - Wave of Mutilation (Slow)
The Cure - Just Like Heaven
Death In Vegas - Dead Elvis
The Commodores - Brick House
English Beat - Save It For Later
General Public - Tenderness
The Sugarcubes - Birthday
Pete Shelley - Homosapien
Killing Joke - Love Like Blood
David Bowie - Rebel Rebel
Adorable - Homeboy
Pixies - Velouria
Pixies - Dig For Fire
English Beat - Mirror In the Bathroom
Wedding Present - My Favourite Dress
Bauhaus - Ziggy Stardust
Jane's Addiction - Standing in the Shower

Subject to change on whim, likely within a day.

Trademark

2004-11-08T13:10:00.000-05:00

I’ve been really enjoying reading the unfolding narratives a number of bloggers are writing for NaNoWriMo, most notably, but not exclusively, Icy’s Harlequeen Romances and Mikevil’s The Bathmat Cat. Ice Queen’s piece is extra amusing as many (or all?) of her story’s characters are based upon the denizens of this corner of the blogosphere. Although obviously fiction, I find it fun to try and guess which traits Icy takes for her characters from the people they are based upon.

Personally, I’m quite pleased with my simulacrum though I find it quite curious that my physical description focuses upon my crazy, rumpled, mad-scientist-like coiffure. It’s not that the portrayal of my crazy locks is inaccurate in any way it’s just that I’ve never had the pleasure of actually meeting Icy and any photos I’ve posted have invariably had my unruly tresses hidden under a baseball cap. It’s surprisingly accurate really. I’ve been told that the way I’m pointed out is often as “the guy with the wild hair”. No mention of my height, build, glasses or any other characteristic is apparently needed.

More proof of how defining my lid is was given yesterday. I’d crashed over at a buddy's pad after a birthday celebration went long into Saturday night. When I awoke Sunday morning I had just enough time to rumple my hair and brush my teeth before heading out to get in one last game of ball before the weather turns for the year. I didn’t have the opportunity to shower or even grab any of my gear. I borrowed a glove but played all day without a cap causing my bed-head to become even crazier as the windy day whipped my hair around, setting a new standard for mad-scientists everywhere.

Later at the bar it’s remarked how particularly “Bennish” I was looking that day. So funny.

Do you have a trademark? Is it an item of clothing, a withering look, a tilt of the head or perhaps an uncontrollable mane (or mein)?

Fun With Maps

2004-11-04T10:29:00.000-05:00

Warning: To view the following a sense of humour is required.

From Pisser.

This is accompanied by her take on the election; as usual it's funny, vitriolic stuff.

From Tony Pierce via Blamlog

Damn that's funny.

Election Result

2004-11-03T07:06:00.000-05:00

How very sad for us all.

I'm going to try to see the bright side of things. Some of it is a stretch but hey, I'm a positive guy.

It seems that the election's results will be finalized in short order. Prolonged uncertainty would have been harmful to the (global) economy.

With the Republicans in office Canada's trade with the US should be able to continue unabated.

The Republicans are also less likely to clamp down on profit taking by big pharma in the states. Sad for those south of the border but up here in Canada cheap drugs are now likely here to stay.

The stem cell research bill went through in California. Yay! A bit of sanity.

The silver lining may be a tad thin, even tranparent in spots, but it could be worse. Really. From a Kerry supporter's viewpoint did I miss any ray of sunshine? We all have to live with the result I'd just like to be a little less sad about it.

Sweet Tooth

2004-11-02T11:58:00.000-05:00

I haven’t had a sweet tooth for years. I normally pass on dessert because I’m full on the main course (which I’d rather eat anyway). I take my coffee black, I rarely drink soda or even chew gum for that matter. It’s not for health reasons or even caloric concerns, for the most part I simply hate that icky, pasty feeling that refined sugar leaves in my mouth afterwards.

So why the heck can’t I stop eating Halloween candy? There’s a huge bowl of it sitting around on the dining room table left over from overestimating the number of kids that would come by Sunday night (or so I tell myself). I find it difficult to walk by without grabbing a treat or two. Often I find myself sorting through the bowl so that I have a handful that represents all of the different varieties available.

I think that it must be a sort of nostalgic greediness; a Pavlovian remnant from the drive that I had as a child that would make me go out trick or treating with two pillowcases (much hardier than plastic bags) and usually fill them both. I hope that this return to pre-pubescent habits doesn’t expand to other traits otherwise soon I’ll be buying comics again and trying to organize a Dungeons & Drag.ons campaign.

Speaking of campaigns:

Go Kerry!

Mixed Bag

2004-10-26T10:11:00.000-04:00

I had a very pleasant weekend. Nothing really all that eventful to go on about so instead a mixed bag of things that made me giggle.

Pit Bull owners and supporters of the breed staged a rally to protest a potential ban of the breed in the province. The rally was well attended by humans, unfortunately owners were asked to keep their dogs at home. Hmm.

Sheila Copps, who to me has epitomized all I hate about Canadian politics, has released a new book “chronicling” her time in government before being ousted by current PM, Paul Martin. As expected, it is by all accounts really just a splenetic, vitriol filled effort of self-promotion and petty vengence. How shocking. The book was apparently written without research or even notes, and is drawn entirely from Ms. Copps' "memory" (I use the term loosely). The G&M's editorials have been lambasting her for the last few days. I just love it. I wonder what the reaction to a "book" like this would be south of the border. Would it become fodder for smear campaigns or merely generate a tidal wave of litigation that would wash away Copps' savings and hopes of ever returning to politics? Pathetic.

Who knew, Presbyterian is an anagram for Britney Spears? Now that's mixed up.

in progress

2004-10-21T11:24:00.000-04:00

The following is the text of an email exchange I'm having with a friend. We are relating our respective stories of last night in installments; it's just cut and paste with names changed really. I'd love to include his story as well but then I'd have to tell him about the blog (and get permission, of course).

Tues. after the Sox tied the series up at three games a piece I go up to the computer. Over the past week I'd tried to get Granola Girl to come out and watch a game with me and was thinking of firing off an invite via email to watch game 7. While mulling this over an email arrives from her (a rarity in itself) poking fun at an email I sent days earlier that derided the Sox chances after being down 2 - 0. Hmm. Perfect opportunity. I quickly fire off a marginally witty reply, trying to set up a meet with her for yesterday. About 20 min. later the reply comes in - maybe. She's got volleyball or something and had planned to watch the game over a beer with them. Fine. I've been through a couple of maybe's already with her where she didn't even call. Like you (although to a lesser degree) I was getting fed up with the whole maybe thing. Perhaps she too, was one of those people that just couldn't say no. Ack.

Anyhoo. I take her response as a "no" and go to bed, intending to reply to her in the morning.

The next morning I craft a reply, basically twisting her arm to come out. I don't really have any faith that this will work, but hey, it's worth a try. The day goes by and there's no response. After dinner I take a shower and as I'm taking the 3.5 seconds in takes to throw the bit of product in my hair that keep my mad scientist-like lid from turning into a frizzy halo, my phone rings. Knowing that I'll be unable to catch it in time I let the call go to voice mail. Within a minute I check the message: It's Granola Girl, she's been at work all day unable to check email and she sounds a little pissed that I didn't get back to her. I'm to try her at work or leave a message at her home telling her where I'll be so she could (potentially) come by. I try work first, no answer, so I leave a message on her voice mail at home. Even with this call her having left me hanging in the past is fresh in my memory, and I have doubts whether or not she'll show.

So I get to the bar and hook up with Ed, who has girl trouble of his own, naturally. While the pre-game's on we talk for a bit, get each other up to date on our stories and shared a few laughs. As we're gabbing the text message you sent came up on my phone; I just laughed. I read it to Ed. He said, "fair enough" and laughed too. There was no speculation; we both knew what the better offer was.

GG shows up just before the game starts. This in itself is surprising as she keeps relating to me stories of how notoriously impunctual she is. She sits down and the conversation flows (like cold beer after a day shagging flies). Much of the talk is about baseball but topics also venture into politics and other potentially dangerous arenas. Again surprisingly all is cool. Politically, we seem to be on the same page, if in different paragraphs.

The game progresses and all is cool and groovy. Being a huge Boston fan, GG's exuberant about the results. I go out for a smoke when Damon hit the second home run and I could hear her cheers from the street.

The game gets a little lopsided and Ed bails; a little to get us alone, a little because mutual friends are down the street at this club for the after-party of the launch of a film-fest that one of them is heading. The dynamic between GG and I changed and the pace of conversation slowed down. This is odd because although engaged in talking, Ed wasn't the centre of things. I've got some guesses why but nothing concrete. Anyway, GG's in the middle of a long work week and was showing signs that she needed to get to bed.

After the game ends we call it a night and prepare to part ways. Although I try, I just can't get a read on her body language. She's tired and it shows. I'm just not sure if it's been a long day or if it's me. As we'd discussed, I'd resolved to wait to make a move until her intentions become clear; and they certainly weren't last night. There were a few moments there at the end where I thought she might be receptive but I bail and give her a hug and take my leave of her.

After I'm left with this feeling that I just didn't do or say the right thing. If I were to grade my "goodnight" performance I'd give myself a barely passing grade. I think I'll call her up at work today and see if a little extra credit work will improve my mark.

Cheers To the Abnormal

2004-10-19T11:16:00.000-04:00

In the past I’ve made mention of the distance people keep between themselves in Toronto. Although I realize that this makes the city a colder place I, in my own way I am party to this; I hate when people, through mere geographical coincidence, somehow think that they have a right to know what’s going on in my life. When the artificial boundaries this aloofness creates are crossed I often wonder if the transgressor is trying to get something from me or merely crazy. Well, crazy may be a little strong, but in Toronto it certainly is abnormal.

Apparently, this cynicism, mistrust of others, aloofness or what-have-you is not limited to Toronto. Exploring these artificial barriers a Montreal artist, Iwona Majdan, has embarked on The Dinner Project; a very, very cool experiment in you can read about here or in the G & M here.

My own mistrust of others was again recently challenged. Last week a buddy of mine, while at a deli he had started to frequent nearby his workplace, was accosted by his server. The server, whom he had only spoken to twice, insisted that he come by a party that she was having Saturday. Unsure if he should attend a party held by a potentially insane woman he invites me along. I guess that if I agree he’s got some protection or at least the reassurance that he isn’t the only one nutty enough to attend. We thrash the idea around a little, weighing our options but the prospect of (the promised) single women and sense of adventure win out and we decide to make an appearance.

The party itself was a little odd but we both had a good time. There was some decent conversation and the promised eye candy abounded. Sadly the Sarah Silver.man type (sans foul mouth) that I was interested in was taken and the Budweiser girl, complete with silicone enhancements, wouldn’t quite come around and see all the merits of my friend.

With my buddy still welcome for lunch at the deli, we left just in time to catch last call on College. We wrapped up the evening with a toast to "crazies" like out host and talking about how nice it would be to have more odd invitations like this. Cheers to the abnormal.

Choosing Words With Economy

2004-10-18T10:38:00.000-04:00

The Economist polled a bunch of economists on the Presidential candidates' economic platforms. Kerry fared much better than Bush. The article is unavailable online but the survey results can be found here.

Since We Last Met

2004-10-15T11:59:00.000-04:00

My oldest friends and I are finalizing arrangements to meet up next weekend. There are 4 of us that have been friends since Grade 6, egad more than twenty years ago, and we still get together en masse about twice a year. Though things have become more regular, in the past there have been some times where we’ve fallen out of touch for extended periods.

It doesn’t happen with this group but I’ve always hated that awkwardness that results when you run into someone you haven’t seen in a long time and they ask what you’ve been up to since they last saw you. Which novel do you want? It takes me a thousand words to explain Thanksgiving dinner and you want a synopsis of the last two, five or ten years of my life? Right. Almost as dreadful is out of politeness being expected to reciprocate and ask them the same question. I always cheat a little and ask instead, “so, what are you up to these days?”

Perhaps it’s just me that has issues with queries like this, maybe others have stock responses like, *make funny face, drop voice ½ octave, tilt head side-to-side* “yeah, met spouse through friends, bought house in ‘burbs, had 1.6 kids, golf twice a week, worked up corporate ladder so now I’ve a cubicle with a window.” But I’ve never really settled down and there have been very few constants so I just don’t have that kind of answer in my repertoire.

Somehow, no matter how long it’s been since I’ve seen the guys, I never get that icky feeling; conversation just seems to flow. Things are rarely pressed and if so it’s always done with the best of intentions. Yeah, I guess that’s why we’re all still friends. Obviously, I’m really looking forward to seeing them

Blogger's Block

2004-10-14T13:26:00.000-04:00

What to write about?

I watched the debate last night while flipping back and forth with the baseball game. Plenty of material there but nothing I really care to go on about. While watching last night I entirely forgot about the 4400, airing on Space. I’ve watched the first 3 of 5 episodes and now I’ve missed the fourth. I could blather on about how good the mini-series is or wonder if it’s really worth now catching the finale next week. F**k.

I loved John Ibbitson’s column in the G & M this morning. But the newspaper’s site has now made much of the content premium only and I couldn’t provide a link. This itself is annoying enough, but not really worthy of a post.

The content of the article provides plenty of inspiration. Perhaps, too much. I’ve difficulties focusing on what I really want to say. It starts “Because democracy is flawed, the federal government must lie to the Canadian people about the size of the annual surplus. It has no choice.” Does one focus on the inherent failings of democracy? How lacking in intelligence or exceedingly myopic that the average voter must be to require this kind of deception? Is this deception truly intentional and if so really warranted? Whether or not the ends justify the means? Aaagghh.

I also spent about an hour agonizing over a four sentence long email. Pathetic.

Ah, I got nothing.

No menu jokes, please

2004-10-12T13:00:00.000-04:00

For me, Thanksgiving celebrations have been very unpredictable over the last few years. My brother has lived in the U.S. for 6 of the last 8 years so often the family will go back and forth between holding the dinner on either the U.S. or Canadian date. There have even been years where we’ve had Thanksgiving twice and one occasion where it skipped over it entirely. Due to this and other uncertainties, as of Friday evening, I was still unsure about my plans for the weekend. That night I got a call from Krazy Courier Girl, inviting me to a Thanksgiving dinner with her friends at her apartment Sunday. She is a confidante of mine and knowing about the whole Granola Girl saga encouraged me to bring “a date” as well. Having resolved to let her come around to me, if anything between GG and I is to happen, I had no intention of giving her a ring.

Lo and behold, Saturday afternoon GG phones me up and inquires if I’m available that evening. Even being the notorious last minute planner that I am when it comes to my free time, I couldn’t break plans for the evening so instead I asked if she’d accompany me to Krazy Courier’s the next day. She asked whether this was a “date” thing and if the attendees would be predominantly couples. While answering the latter part of the question (no) I, perhaps unwisely, avoided the former. Whether or how my response mattered, what I said was apparently the right thing as she then quickly said yes.

After talking for a while and making meet-up arrangements, I needed to get going and thus began the verbal disconnection dance. While waltzing around, trying to find a good note to end our conversation on I mention, “I’m just not a phone person.” She replies, “Well, at least we have that in common.” Huh? What about the litany of things we’ve discussed in the past? What about baseball, for goodness sake? She may love the game even more than me. Anyway, although she’s coming along I leave the call somewhat more perplexed than before.

Sunday afternoon as I’m heading over to play a pick-up game of ball she calls me from her work to finalize arrangements. As she may not be able to be ready by the time guests were asked to arrive she asks if I wouldn’t mind waiting for her and being a little late as “it would be fun go (or was it,to enter?) as a couple.” Hmm. As it happens she gets out of work early and heads over to join in for a few innings with the pick-up game I’m playing.

The game breaks up at the right time for us to get over to Krazy Courier’s pad with a just comfortable margin of time to spare. As usual many of the other players at the game are mutual friends of ours and inquiries are made if we are coming for drinks. We individually demur, not indicating that we’re off doing something together, but the crowd is dilly-dallying and time is becoming shorter. Eventually, being such a stickler for punctuality I, as discreetly as possible, suggested that we should be leaving. After saying our goodbyes to the others we head off to her car where she mentions, “I bet they’re doing the math right now.” No kidding, the whole league loves to gossip. What did she think would happen?

After relating all this detail, I’ve surprisingly little to say about the dinner party itself. It was a load of fun: good food, copious quantities of drinks, interesting conversation; it went swimmingly really. As different members of the party came over and sat with us topics of discussion varied widely, but were always engaging and when left to ourselves the liveliness of the conversation was undiminished. There were a few times when GG complained about how her stomach hurt from laughing so much. Oh, and at one point mid-way through the evening she mentioned that she had broken up with the boyfriend a couple of weeks ago.

At about two in the morning, although the party showed no indication of letting up, GG was showing signs of fading. I volunteer to walk her the few blocks home (about 1 subway stop). She readily accepts and we soon begin to say our farewells and make an exit.

The walk to her apartment was pleasant and (sadly) uneventful. I was distracted (or drunk) enough that our arrival at her place took me by surprise. While she’s thanking me for inviting her along and for having such a great time I can’t get her telling me some weeks ago that were she to find herself single that she would need some space for a while afterward and so, for better or worse, left it up to her to make a move. Yes, I’m kicking myself for that. Leaving details aside, there was a certain amount of awkwardness involved in our parting and things were left unsaid (and undone).

I trundle back to the party and at the door Krazy Courier accosts me for all the details. Of course, she berates me and my lack of initiative and gives me a lesson on how to covertly grab a girl’s hand. The party is still in full flight and continues until six in the morning when the neighbours start banging on the walls. Somehow in my drunkenness Krazy Courier convinces me to stay over and I end up (platonically) sharing a bed with three girls. I would’ve settled for just one.

100% Organically Written

2004-10-07T13:47:00.000-04:00

I understand that the English language is a bastard child (check out The Story of English). I also get the fact that the language owes much of its vibrancy to its mutability, but some of the changes people try and implement really piss me off. Recently, Mikevil briefly discussed the idiocy of an alternate spelling movement and Ice Queen touched on the stupidity of Biz-lish but what’s getting my boxers in a bunch lately is the appropriation of some terms for uses that add nothing and merely obfuscate.

One term that’s being irritating for a while is “organic”. The term is likely derived from: in a manner similar to that of an organ or an organism. Taking this rationale it follows why the study of carbon based compounds is called Organic Chemistry.

Recently the term has somehow been co-opted into meaning grown without using pesticides or fertilizers that are not of animal or vegetable origin. A stretch for sure but even so, why is this necessarily better? How is this essentially a good thing? I guess if botulism, ricin or anthrax were added it would still be “organic”. Really all farming is organic, it’s all carbon-based organisms. When we start growing silicon based life then maybe it would have a meaning. Stupid redundant term.

Organic has also been used in a business context. I’ve been to biz-school and yet I can’t find any meaning that this is supposed to adhere to. Well I guess if the intent is that an organic business either grows like an organism or its structure resembles an organism it would likely be correct. There are so many different kinds of organisms and ways that they are constructed and grow that I’m sure an analogy could be made to one of them (amoeba? tube worm? bee hive? badger?) however, the variety is so great the term becomes meaningless to anyone except the author. Yes, I’m organically writing this post. Ack.

Finally, in today’s G & M some twit described T.O.’s police chief Fantino’s apparent transistion into a kinder, gentler administrator as an “organic transformation”. What the fuck does this mean? Poncey buzzword addicts, stop using words like this that have many (apparent) uses, so many of which are contradictory. Egad, the terms cease to have any meaning

Don’t even get me started on “natural”.

If anyone knows of a good etymology site, please pass on the link.

Arm Twisting

2004-10-06T08:41:00.000-04:00

One of my oldest and best friends has started a blog. He hasn't posted anything substantial yet so do me a favour, go by his blog and ~~hassle him~~ give him some encouragement in his comments.

He's my favourite ~~target~~ person to drag out of work and I see blogging as another great opportunity to prevent him from getting any work done. Come on, go ahead pester him. It's a ton of fun, you'll see.

Thanks so much to everyone who went by and left a comment. I'm still all a' gigglin'.

Running Mates

2004-10-05T14:15:00.000-04:00

Does anybody really care about tonight’s vice-presidential debate? It’s not like the VP generally has any more influence over government policy than any given cabinet member. It seems to me that running mates are not chosen so much for skill or talent but rather as foils to the presidential candidate. Whereas Cheney is the straight-man to Bush’s flip cowboy, Edwards is the energetic, youthful charmer to Kerry’s staid, sober academic.

So is whether you appreciate the Republicans’ Abbott and Costello more than the Democrats’ completing-the-square routine really important? Why don’t we examine the real sources of influence – I think it would be much more enlightening (and entertaining) to have a debate between the spouses to the candidates. There have been many debates of this type I’d love to have seen in the past (i.e. Hillary Clinton vs. Barbara Bush) but this year’s ticket may have the most potential of all. Would Ms. Heinz-Kerry’s firebrand technique be able to melt the ice-maiden visage of Laura Bush? Would H-K’s off-the-cuff style get her into heaps of trouble? Will Mrs. B ever break out of the dutiful wife role and actually express an opinion?

VP debate, yadda, yadda, yadda - The real running mate’s debate, now this would make engrossing, important TV.

Importance

2004-10-03T23:52:00.000-04:00

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. A selective synopsis of what’s been going on:

a)The regular baseball season is over both for my league and for pro-ball. There is a gap in my free time that needs to be plugged.

b)I’ve a number of friendships in transit; some waxing some waning, a mixed bag for sure. Plenty of material for blogging, I just can’t get myself to write about it.

c)Things with Granola Girl are still in limbo – although we still often talk, I’ve basically given up trying. If something happens cool, if not oh well.

d)My business partner is slowing down progress on our project. His reasons are valid but it doesn’t stop my patience from being tested. Nah, that's all wrong. It's not his fault at all. Things just aren't going fast enough. Dammit.

e)I’m really not happy with either of the presidential candidates south of the border and favour Kerry just because I don’t want to have to witnesses Dubya’s smirking mug and listen to his patronizing voice for another 4 years. Pathetic reasoning I know, it’s just the deciding factor for me.

So I’m going through this and some other stuff, thinking about what to write a post about and then today:

John Cerutti aged 44, the colour commentator for the Jays games on Sportsnet, died of natural causes. He was a former pitcher for the jays and an excellent sportscaster. I’m just blown away how a former athlete, who I enjoyed both watching pitch and listen to cover games could just drop dead. Just like that, gone.

A fellow I play pick-up ball with has started this charity, for very personal reasons. We went out for some drinks Sunday and we talked some. The fund’s named after his wife, it’s self-explanatory.

Anyway, I’m, just not up to elaborating on any of the petty stuff that’s going on with me. Though I’m self-absorbed enough that I’m sure it’ll seem more important in a day or two.

Timely Rant

2004-09-29T13:23:00.000-04:00

I’m very particular about my being on time (not to be rephrased). Especially in circumstances that would have a person or event made wait for my arrival. The rationale behind it is very simple: I hate waiting for others so why would I want to make anyone else do so? It’s just being considerate. It’s not hard. So why do so many people have problems with it? Some people I know actually sound proud when they tell me that they are routinely late. I just don’t get it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not always on time. Being late for a party or event where no one is waiting for me, hey no big deal. Sometimes I just can’t guarantee when I’ll show up (e.g. a meeting that goes until it goes), but I’ll warn people ahead of time. Occasionally being late just can’t be avoided; traffic jams, subway breakdowns, etc. happen to everyone now and again, the key is now and again. Whatever the cause, if I’m ever late I get stressed and feel guilty all the way to the meet up.

Maybe it’s my problem, perhaps others don’t mind waiting for others. Depending on the circumstances while I’m waiting I’m often worrying about late party’s safety, bored out of my tree, put in an uncomfortable situation or anxious that plans weren’t communicated effectively. Why would I want to put anyone else through that?

To me it seems that lateness a symptom of selfishness and lack of consideration or is my rationale flawed? How can anyone be proud of their impunctuality?

What me worry?

2004-09-27T15:45:00.000-04:00

Pillaged from here (which of course pillaged it from somewhere else)

People who keep diaries are more likely to suffer from headaches, sleeplessness, digestive problems and even social dysfunction, according to a small British study. Elaine Duncan of the Glasgow Caledonian University and David Sheffield of Staffordshire University compared 94 undergraduates who were regular diarists with 41 non-diarists. "We expected diary-keepers to have some benefit, or be the same, but they were the worst off," said Ms. Duncan, who presented the findings to a British Psychological Society meeting. "You are probably much better off if you don't write anything at all."

Holy generalizations Batman! Perhaps we should ban all other kinds of writing as well just to be safe. What a bonehead. How do these people keep employed or get grants in the first place?

Anyhoo. Now ignoring that “small”, in “small British study” is likely a euphemism for worthless, statistically insignificant piece of crap, should we bloggers have any reason to be concerned?

For an experiment why don’t we compare what I wrote about events Friday in my blog versus what I would have potentially written in a journal style diary.

Friday September 24, 2004

Dear diary,

Morning – Interspersed procrastinating with some actual work. Got some good advice from blogosphere on potential Ottawa trip. Decided to bail.

Afternoon – Went golfing in the hinterlands w/ Dad, understand more and more why Twain described golf as "A good walk spoiled."
Got home, message waiting from Granola Girl. Call her back. F**king machine AGAIN. F**K.

Evening - Go out to grungy bar for beers w/ Couple. Begin to realize why I don’t hang out with them more often.

Have interesting run in w/ woman on streetcar

Play pool w/ sister and her friends. Play well, win more than my share of games.

Granola Girl didn’t call back. Sigh.

Goodnight Diary.

Would the entry I selected to blog about have even made it into a journal? I think it’s the most interesting thing, yet as far as journals go it was such a small part of my day and perhaps wouldn’t have been mentioned. Some days are far more mundane and banal than this one. I can only imagine having a string of them and writing: got up, worked, watched TV went to bed. That would be depressing even if your inner life wasn’t. At least with a blog you can write about the news or pop-culture or whatever stirs you that day.

In addition to more latitude in format, blogging is interactive. I appreciate all my comments and sometimes even get good advice in them. A diary is so solitary perhaps those that write them just don’t think they have an audience for their thoughts.

Back to the "researcher's" conclusion about being better off not writing - all in all I'm far more concerned about idiotic, non-meaningful studies coming off as being conclusive and affecting the habits of others than I am about those that write diaries. In conclusion I find that morons like Ms. Duncan would be better off if they gave up on academia entirely.

Bumming Smokes

2004-09-26T23:38:00.000-04:00

Friday, just before midnight I was waiting for the King streetcar while puffing away on a cigarette. There’s one other person waiting at the stop with me, a blond, normal looking, 40ish woman who shows some signs of having lived a hard life. I notice her wander out into the street momentarily, eager to spot the next streetcar. On her way back to the safety of the curb she notices my cigarette and politely asks if I can spare one. Getting a smoke from me in such circumstances is normally a 50/50 proposition but her soft manner wins me over and I pass one over to her.

While lighting her cigarette I ask if her mini-adventure to the center of King St. yielded any information about the next streetcar. Though a simple “no” would have sufficed, she took this as an opportunity to tell me about her day. Brimming with exuberance she tells me she had just that day finished the chef program at a college down the street. Initially, being from T.O., I worried that I had (yet again) inadvertently engaged some crazy and would regret initiating contact until one of our rides was over. It soon became apparent though, that her excitement was genuine and she simply needed to share it with someone. She was on her way over to her “man’s” place but just couldn’t hold in her happiness. She asks for a congratulatory hug, which I gave her, and we continued to talk and share in her joy.

The streetcar arrives; we get on and end up standing beside one another midway back on the half-filled car. As we travel along she relates how unexcited her friends and family seem to be no matter how good her job prospects appear and also how much she appreciates me being happy for her. (It comes out in print odd, but it seemed so genuine) She hugs me a few more times and gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek just before she gets off at her stop.

I don’t know who got more out of our exchange; she may have liked having my ear to bend but through her sincere, simple warmth I shook off a little of that standoffishness that is so typical of people in T.O.

I think the chances of bumming a smoke from me have just been raised to 70/30.

Minor Dilemma

2004-09-24T10:50:00.000-04:00

I’m supposed to go to Ottawa for a wedding reception-like party this weekend. RSVP's were made and plans were made ages ago for me to grab a ride with a friend of mine who is also attending. All was fine and dandy until late last night when I found that for some reason transport and lodging got shuffled around and I’m now slotted to go and stay with Friend and his SO. If you recall SO is a chatterbox that somehow manages to press all the wrong buttons with me. Egad, 5 hrs in the car each way with this person, plus spending time with them Saturday through Monday. I don’t think I can take it without blowing my cool in a major way. If I do explode it could have lasting repercussions with Friend.

Fun, fun, fun. So now I’m left with the options of:

Finding alternative transport/accommodation – I wouldn’t have accepted the invitation in the first place if this were the case. The added expense, time, and annoyance just wouldn’t have merited attending. I'd also have to come up w/ an excuse for why I wasn't going in the car.

Suck it up and go – 70% chance of irreparably damaging relationship w/ Friend

Bailing – I’m sure to offend the party’s hosts and the couple who the party is for. They’re not that close and would likely forgive me.

Any advice?

9 Types

2004-09-23T09:00:00.000-04:00

One of my biz-school buddies swears by the enneagram test at 9types. Just 9 categories, that’s worse than a horoscope, it could apply to just about anyone.

My results: I got postive numbers in only three categories. In descending order: Reformer, Leader, Thinker

So I’m sceptical but I like taking tests, damn, it does fit.

What type are you?