Introducing my new best friend.
er.. friends.

who said keeping up with the jones's couldn't be fun.

...and just like that,
with ample warning and plenty of gut notice,
Everything becomes utterly, completely...
uncomplicated....
uninvolved..
and separate.

All over a couple of cheeseburgers.

I need to learn how to tie better knots.

"Wanna go for a run?"
"No, it's freezing!"
I go to the window and look out through the blinds, phone in hand; The sun is blazing, the sky is blue.
"What? It looks warm."
"Looks warm? You're an idiot."

Despite my feelings I bundled up, 4 layers of various shirts and a red running jacket to top it off;Good thing. It was -15 Celsius with the windchill.

Running alone doesn't quite compare to running with company; Running silent is even worse [I've lost my ipod =( ]. As the run progressed, I found myself strangely comfortable with the cold. My thoughts drifted as my legs started to burn, I wondered how I'd handle 40 degrees.

Easy.

I'd be in a hospital, surrounded by nurses, getting packed in ice and pumped full of liquids.

"Decided to come after?"

" I do love my boy Ewan" D said stepping inside the door, " Holy shit, you've got a roommate?" he asked, N laughing from the kitchen.

"No, why?"

"You have 20 fucking pairs of shoes?" He asked as I looked down following his gaze, speed counting.

"Looks like 11 pairs to me, but I've got a couple of pairs of sandals in the closet, and of course these new ones I'm wearing."

"Hmm, alright, those are nice.. still pretty gay though."

"You're right you know, I should look into getting 3 pairs of High-tops, all different colors, and maybe some matching jogging pants." I said.

"At least then people would be able to get in the door." He said laughing as his eyes focused on what N was carrying, "I'll be taking one of those in one of those fancy glasses please."

So much for not drinking; we were watching Trainspotting, so it seemed rather appropriate.

So maybe in a lack of new Uber Euro Glasses crisis I went out and bought new shoes (that I didn't need) and some Wall Hangings (which I desperately need), but all in all, pretty therapeutic.

So saving my cents isn't really going that well.

Maybe I'll buy a Pair of Shoes and Painting Every week.
But then again, I do need new running spandex, mine are coming apart at the seams, quite literally (who knew you couldn't machine wash them).
I'll need to work the economics of my planned travels again.
Robot development costs look like they could soar to the $2000 mark, and I'll need at least $2500 for any respectable backpacking variety.

Well that's what this afternoon is for, right now I'll go for a run and hope that my running pants don't further separate from the elastic waist band.

The EDO, perhaps better known as the Earned Day Off. After a week of furiously paced work, road trips, meetings, and research I was awarded a break. A long weekend.

I got home from work on Thursday and collapsed on the couch. Too tired to cook, too grumpy to make a pilgrimage downtown, I ordered a pizza and watched TV, heading to bed after a less than impressive episode of CSI.

I woke up after noon on Friday feeling as if God had revived me, giving me limitless energy. I guess almost 13 hours of sleep will do that. Sadly when the evening rolled around, the best thing I could find to do was Trivia. Refusing to stay in on a Friday after such a week I gave in to the second call of team recruitment.

I headed over just passed 9pm wearing the usual 'asshole' Jeans and 'offensive' Pink T-Shirt to take in the musty and Dank engineering bar that I love to hate; Of course I was counting on there being no one there worth impressing. (ding! Correct)

I got there and the bar was half empty (not to be mistaken for half full). I saw the beckoning wave from the guys I was to meet. I was late, as expected, they had politely held the game for me.

I looked to the empty bar, then back to the Trivia board, then back to the bar, "fuck this.. Hey! 2 Stellas Please!" I said, throwing 5 bucks on the bar, grabbing the economically priced bottles and heading to the game.

"Thanks." N said extending a hand. I laughed, drinking from both bottles to make my point.
"Figures, wearing the 'asshole' jeans." J said to Sam's laugh, with a familiar looking Girl sitting next to him.

"Colum, This Is Chelsea."
I smiled. "Pleasure Chelsea, you know you look really familiar"
"Ya, Our mom's know each other, plus I'm in biological, we see each other around."
"Oh right, I remember now, in the airport coming back!." I said, drawing a few looks, but no one followed up.
"That's her." She said, looking somewhat offstep suddenly.

The game began and soon after I remembered why I hated Trivial Pursuit: Original Flavor. The questions were better tuned toward my father. So I continued to order beers and bare the experience, focusing more on chatting with other non-involved players than the game.

The trouncing of my team was soon completed and the bar was still running at half steam. "dome?" Sam said suggestively.

It had been a while, but why the hell not. "That sounds like an awesome idea." I said standing up to head to the bathroom. One step... Two.. And I fell over, being caught by N.

"You're fucked." N said, setting me back upright.
"Fuck off, I'm fine." I said, now concentrating on balance and walking to the bathroom.

Moments later we started our pilgrimage, and moments later finished it, huddling in the employee's entrance and skipping the line. I'd forgotten what It was like as I stepped in; my glasses instantly fogging, hundreds of people dancing like fiends.

I checked my coat and made my way to the bar to cope with the stress. I turned from the bar to find everyone else and behold, trouble.

"Colum, have you met Chelsea?" Sam said, slurring his words, more fucked up than anyone I'd seen that night.
"Yes Sam, you've introduced me to Chelsea 3 times already." I said, "Chelsea, I trust you're still doing well?"

"Want to dance?" She said; Sam smiling like a fiend; it all making sense, she'd finally gotten the balls.

" Well aren't you going to get a drink first?"

"Sure, wait?"

"I'll be right here." I said as she moved to the bar and I grabbed Sam. "Will you fuck off, I'm not looking for anyone, alright?"

"I'm just trying to help out man, that'll never work and this girl won't stop asking about you."

"Sam, I am not looking for anyone and I'm sure as hell not looking for your advice. End of story; but I will dance with her just so I can hide myself better in a dancing crowd."

He laughed. "Remember man, a shot of jack and the ladies will always go home with you."

Chelsea Came back then smiling and we headed off, leaving Sam there smiled as I mouthed "Fuck you" to him. I didn't take long to find everyone else and soon we became part of a highschool like circle dance, dancing until my legs began to scream.

4am came and went and I was on emergency power, my stomach screaming.

"Colum, you alright man?" Were the last words I heard, before I colored the sidewalk of Brunswick street.

"Fuck, he's done." Sam said, Grabbing my shoulder and keeping me from slipping into my own artwork, N came up on the other side and our long stop-n-walk began, I being more carried then walked.

"Stella, I enjoy you so much... Why do you treat me like such a bitch." I was told I said.

The aftermath of my EDO, my day of rest, my recovery from work; I'm a peppermint tea sipping wreck; waiting for good company to watch Trainspotting.

Not quite the weekend of relaxation I had planned.
But lessons learned all the same.

I'll go quite far to make an impression. Especially a good first impression.

I usually wear a jacket and sometimes don a tie. I've taken to toting a brand new, document filled briefcase which I proudly stand on my desk and I make the effort to "Good Morning [insert name]" Everyone I pass early in the day (I did take the care to memorize the names).

Despite the difficulty, I get up every morning at 6am (really 6:30 after several snooze pressings) and begin my regiment of preparation. Even though I've made the effort to get to sleep early and I've sacrificed "seriously fun" weeknight stuff, I still can't quite get the hang of the early rise.

Now 3 weeks in, today was a little different. The plan centered around me and a 3 hour (each way) road trip to view the site of my project and get a personal feel for it. The day started with physical pain; I woke at 4am to report for work at 6. My body screamed, but despite all resistance I did manage to coach myself into the shower where the initial burst of cold water in my overly hot rinse took care of any lingering grogginess.

As I walked under a dark sky, my breath making me look like a steam engine in the freezing air, I began to fear the entire day that lay ahead.
I'd soon be stuck in a very close quarters for quite some time with my boss, a person that with all that has been going on (specifically that front page news [emergency]) as of late, I just haven't had the chance to get to know that well.

6 came and went, soon followed by 6:15, and the arrival of a ridiculously large SUV at 6:16 am.
We were on the road soon after, Tim Horton's in hand and much to my surprise, merrily chatting about psychology.

It wasn't long before Common academic interests left the spotlight to be replaced by more personal conversation. During the course of the following commute I was surprised by how much we were sharing with each other. 2 more Tim Horton's stops followed (for my boss' sake, not mine, though I did indulge) yet topics relating to engineering only lightly crossed.

After a day spent in a place I literally feared for my life, being wary of rather persistent smells commonly associated with certain highly explosive gases while wearing wholly inadequate flame retardant gear comfort came in the form of two strings of advice:

"Don't worry, if anything happened now, you would never, ever know it."
Strangely, this only made me worry more. Not to mention, I just don't want to die right now, nor risk dying; whether or not I'll know I've died is not really of importance.

"If you take one thing away from this work term Colum, let it be the word Prenuptial."
I didn't laugh like the other guy did, I didn't think it was funny. I thought it completely tragic in fact. Marriage isn't something I'm going to plan a Contingency for just in case it fails. It's simply not going to fail; that is, if and when it happens.

All preconceptions about corporate driven life are not wrong.
Actually, most of them are entirely correct.

... and every day I'm moving a little closer to signing the notion that "this just isn't for me."
..but it's a learning experience, right?

"The more you like someone, the more you remember about them, it's just the way it works."

"So If I remember A lot?"

"Well, then you must like that person a lot, But then again, people tend to remember a lot about the people they hate as well."

"I'm pretty sure I can discern Hate from most other feelings... Well... Maybe with the exception of unfulfillment."

"... And of course, you could just have a good memory, or you could be slightly insane."

"Thanks."

- - -
I'm trying to sort out a list of expenses for this term.. Well, for at least this month.
At the top of the list: new glasses.

I first suddenly became aware of the fact that wireframes were going extinct last week. Now, more observant of this, I'm becoming oddly uncomfortable just wearing them. At the crosswalk, at work, even when running, I'm outnumbered. Again, this passed weekend I was again one of maybe three people (out of 2 hundred perhaps) wearing wireframes; the other 197 people saw the world through horn rimmed glasses.

I can't make the leap to horn rims. It's just.... it's just too intellectual a look for me, in addition to the fact that I don't want to cave to the dictated trend.

So I've realized my only recourse. Metal Frames. The Uber euro sophisticated Stainless alloy version of the horn rim.

Now, I just need to find a style I like and a color that doesn't contrast so much as to make me look like a vampire. It might be a little off the deep end (it might be), but then, so may my new haircut.

A couple of days ago I had been in a "mad" rush to get to work.
I was running late; the result of an overly long early morning jog.
I ran out of my apartment, locking the door and running off, hoping to pull the key as I ran to catch the elevator.

Though for reasons unknown the key didn't slip out as usual but caught half way as I ran. I pulled the key and instead of coming loose, it bent.

"Fuck!" I said, realizing I didn't have my glasses as the elevator doors closed. I went back and used the lock as a vice, bending the key straight again. Luckily it didn't break but straightened enough that it slid with some effort back into the lock, granting me my glasses.

Today, in my continuing quest to become the fit lifeguard I once was I again went for a pretty demanding run. It was more brutal than I intended, especially without N to pace myself against.
I returned back to my building, flushed, dripping with sweat but nonetheless proud that I hadn't had to stop and walk (despite how desperately I had wanted to). I walked passed the leasing agent and a young couple nodding and smiling, skipping to the elevator - hoping my sight or my smell hadn't adversely affected their decision making process.

I squinted in the elevator, blind without my glasses, trying to bring the panel of numbered buttons into focus. I punched 3 and the doors closed as I sorted through my keys for the bent one.

The elevator doors rolled back and I stepped out. The hallway was still in disarray. Wallpaper peeled back by the workers, baseboards lying in piles awaiting attachment. I walked over to my door and slid the bent key in.

It fought me, but with some extra effort it went in. I turned it, but it wouldn't unlock the door. I wiggled the key (the trick I had developed) to get it to slid in the rest of the way. Still nothing.

"Fuck.. Great" I said. I looked down to the side as I fought with the key. The base boards were back. They'd fixed this spot already? I'd only been gone an hour. I pushed the key again, it was in all the way... Nothing.

Then I heard the latch turn. I looked up.. Squinting.. "Shit!" Apartment 205!

"Ya?" the door opened, my key slid out as the door was pulled back. The guy, stepped forward.

"Ah.. This is really embarrassing. I'm really sorry. I thought this was 308. I'm not wearing my glasses."

He smiled and burst out laughing " Don't worry about it man" he said, my face suddenly feeling very very warm. "It Happened to me just a few days ago."
"Thanks." I managed, hoping the heat from the jog already had my face red enough to hide my embarrassment. "Cya." I said, not sure how to end the conversation as I turned and walked quickly to the stairs.

Most awkward 30 seconds I've had yet in this Building.
Well alright, the second most awkward.

The Culprit

Only Yesterday I had celebrated because I'd been the first to receive one of the new series Computers. The Newest Employee given the most powerful computer (I've ever sat infront of) before anyone else. Little did I realize, I was a guinea pig.

After I booted up my computer and I went about my way, setting a pretty desktop background and customizing my sounds to a Star Trek theme my computer deemed me a threat.

For reasons unknown to the biggest of the Big Wigs at technical Support in Another Country, In the background my computer had been busy. It had synced up with the security permissions server and had deemed me unfit. As I went about personalizing my computer, it went about uninstalling all the of the engineering applications, locking me out of my mail and shared drives. The security server had detected the computer on boot and upon issuing commands from Houston, had proceeded to lock down all my information, removing all things installed and denying permissions to everything. Minutes Later, the other Newly Hired "kid" came running into my cubicle, repeating my own story in his form to me [he'd gotten his computer second =) ].

I sat there in my cubicle smiling, nodding, sipping corporate coffee from a corporate mug as the overweight "on-site tech support guy" had told me everything in words I was too tired to listen to, much less care about.

"So I can't use my computer?"

"You can't use any computer."

"Should be an easy workterm then eh?" I said.

"I wish I could say the same for my day." He said as he took a Tim Horton's bag out of his coat pocket and set it down next to his Extra Large Tim Horton's Coffee, taking my computer chair. I could only imagine him jamming the whole doughnut in his mouth the second I stepped out.

So "break time" hit. The Rain that had made the morning umbrella-ed walk to work so pleasant had subsided, replaced much to my glee with blue sky and streaking sun. We went for a walk.

After a couple of hits of espresso and a couple of pocket warmed, half melted Turtles we headed back, the three of us venturing alongside the watersoaked battle field of Hollis Street. Truly Man versus Machine.

A huge puddle lay at the corner. The light turned green, just a second too early. The lineup of cars on the ridiculously busy one-way street lurched forward, hitting the puddle.

Spray danced across the sidewalk splashing into the marble of a building bordering the walk. I breathed a sigh of relief, We had only been a few feet away and those BMW driving bitches had aimed for us.

Laughing at the close call we walked ahead as the light turned red and the walk light changed.

*ring ring*

I'm not sure if there really was a bell, but I swear I heard it.
A lone cyclist sped along, rounding the corner, zipping right through the very same puddle.
The spray splashed upward, catching our faces, covering spotting our coats and slicing a wet, dirty line across our pants.

I turned around to yell at the "bicycle riding hippy" but I couldn't speak, I was stunned.

"YOU GODDAMNED MOTHER FUCKING SACK OF...!" Came the yell, matching what I was seeing. S had broken into a run, high heels clicking along the concrete, iced Tea launching.

*Crunch*. The plastic cup had hit the 'Heartless bastard' square in the back, breaking open. Ice and Tea splashed everywhere. The Biker Stopped, started to look back.

"Holy shit! Run!" J said against the laughter, we broke into a run. I was almost in panic, I couldn't believe what had just happened. We covered the 50 feet to the entrance in record time, Only daring to slow after the doors to the elevator had closed and we were well above street level and the possible range of any stray bullets.

"What the Hell were you .... no... better yet, how the hell did you..." I started to say.

"I used to play baseball." S said, smiling.

We all burst out laughing.
The doors opened and there was our boss, eying us as if we were mad.
But after more corporate coffee in corporate mugs he laughed along with us. "How come no one invites me for break?" He said.

"Well you are wearing white pants, and we can run faster."

"Well you know, I am distantly related to Joe DiMaggio"He said.

"Really?" I asked

"No"
...

*knock* *knock*

"who is it?" I asked, not expecting anyone.

"Me."

I lazily got up from the couch, "Come in N, the door's open." I said, sitting up, rubbing my eyes, clearing the redness. The door silently glided open, soon followed by a scratchy shuffle of feet.

"What's up?" She said, dropping Sam's leash, the little dog scampering across the floor, rushing to jump on me.

"Not much, what's up wi..."

"Hey, what's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing." I responded.

I scratched the dog under the ears, "He's not going to piss on the chair again is he?"

"He shouldn't, unless you did recently, then he'll need to remark his territory." N said, smiling.

I tilted my head to the side, smirking, highly unamused, "Now, really, what's wrong? Were you asleep?"

"What time is it?" I said, "And yes, by the way, what are you doing here?"

"Fine, be a tool. But at least accompany Sam and I on a walk." N said, not smiling, but looking somewhat concerned, head cocking, trying to catch eye contact.

I suddenly remembered the dog. I looked around frantically and sure enough there he was, sniffing diligently at one of the legs of the arm chair. "I could use a walk, just harness the beast."

"Aye Comrade"

Minutes later, coat clad and outside, after some dead silence and a little shoe scuffing, walking the same circuit around the public gardens and continuing onto the cemetery a dam broke.

"She's very pretty you know." N said. I looked to her, completely caught off guard. I'd been watching Sam shuffle along, almost to the beat of her clicking high heeled boots.

"I know" I said, ending that conversational train.

"You know what the funny thing about the alphabet is?" She asked, the darkness of the cemetery all around, home now looming high in the sky, parked above the trees.

"I have no idea, what?"

"Well, it's that the letters C and R are closer together than the letters H and M. I've recited it over and over but it's the way it is."

My mind somewhere else, dancing through fleeting ideas, I failed to comprehend. "What? what are you talking about?"

"There are 4 letters between H and M, there are 14 letters between C and R, but when you discount the 6 letters of H to M inclusive, C and R are next to each other."

"I thought it was the Gee's who made the hallway smell like weed? What the fuck are you taking about? There are 26 letters in the English alphabet you Russian..." and my mind clicked as my eyes looked up to hers in my birthing scolding.

Sam was scampering through leaves, desecrating the cemetery in his own naturally innocent way.

"Why are you saying this?" I said, my tone completely changed, my composure breaking.

"Look." She said putting an arm around one shoulder, hugging me. "It's alright. There's nothing you can do right now, things are a way, at a time for a reason."

"You know what I think of Astrology."

Sam came running back through the leaves, the leash was clicked back on and we walked out of the cemetery.

"Just Remember, nobody forgets the alphabet, once they've learned it, No matter how long it is since they've said it, no matter how they've ordered it."

I looked at her. Simply Stunning, everybit the former model, though now everybit the professional. Things were much better for the way they had worked out.

I burst out laughing. "Is that an old Russian Proverb?" Tears running down my cheeks, the hug came again.

" You're a best friend N."

"You're a great best friend Colum"

"Thanks." I said, smiling now.

A couple of steps later, the smiling turned into a giggle. "Put any thought into what the first postcard will be?" She said, laughing.

"Actually..... No" I said, winking. "Up for a run tomorrow?"

"Always" N said, smirking full of superiority.

"6:10am." I chimed.

"6:10 am it is. I'll call at 6:09. Out the Door at 6:11 am, beat the rush." She smiled widely, accepting the challenge.

"What?!"

"Huh? [pant] What what?"

Running isn't normally looked upon as a social thing, but with a partner it elevates the entire experience to something that is often looked forward to. Though it takes practise to keep the panting from making it incomprhensible, a running conversation often makes running easier; It definitely increases the enjoyment. It's no secret that N and myself often run through the park. Though school kept me from it lately, we always follow the same route, our steps more than likely landing in spots once tread.

"Why are you smiling like an idiot?"

"An Idiot? Idiots smile?" I say back to her.

"Look?" she said, pulling her sunglasses off and offering me the reflection.

"Fuck off N.. I know I'm smiling."

"Well why?" N said.

"Because I'm happy... glad even." I replied.

"I was across the Street walking Sam at about 11:45..[pant].. do you want me to go further?"

"Why go further.[pant].. If you were there, then..then you [pant] know why I'm smiling. It's a beautiful day isn't it?."

"[Laugh] I just wanted you to admit it... It was... [pant]... very pretty." N said with a huge smile. " I wish I had had a camera... it was very cinematic.. it would have made a great little magazine cover."

"Who's smiling like an idiot now?" I asked her.

"You are, even more so." She said, matter of factly, moving to offer me the reflection of the sunglassed again

"Fuck off, Don't switch on Russian Bitch mode alright. This day is perfect....." Splash!
I stepped right into a muddy pothole. I was instantly soaked.. my left spandex clad leg painted in mud.

"It's not the Russians you have to worry about." N said, smiling.... like an idiot :)

"No.. you're right. I'll concentrate on the potholes [pant] the pandas and ____ for now."
...more than a couple of people looked at us as we ran passed... laughing like fiends.

Let's go to dinner.
Let's go to lunch.

It's not nearly as often that you hear "Let's go to breakfast."

Perhaps it's because considerably more effort is required to make a breakfast meet. You need to get up, you need to wake up, you need to get ready, and then you need to let someone else into what is usually a private meal - it's something between you and your early morning self. Lunch and supper, you're already there, you're already up (provided you wake at a generally earlier hour). Everyone else is up, it's not nearly as private, lunch is commonly shared, supper/dinner even more so. "Let's go for dinner" is so Cliche, and lunch is shared because it's convenient.

Perhaps that's why when I tell people "Breakfast" they think what they think. Maybe Breakfast with someone does mean something else. Maybe breakfast with someone does imply something. Perhaps it all really does translate into being more open or just more comfortable with that person. But Make no mistake, I'm not saying what I think, I'm just finding a sudden interest in what others think, repeating it all aloud to see if it makes sense.

Regardless, I had a great time.
and no.. That's a picture from another breakfast in another place far far away long long ago. (no camera today)

But one thing is definitely for certain.
At breakfast, everything is clearer. The day is but just a prospect. Hours upon hours of distraction have not yet occurred and every thought is a first for that day.

so.... hmmm.. so.... Interesting....

Pipes, they're all the rave lately.

I'm still living in a hotel, 2 days after I thought I'd be reclining on my couch, stella in hand watching more mythbusters than I could bear, but instead I'm "on vacation" :)

I would have been home yesterday, but the night before last another pipe in the other building burst. Understandably, my doubts about the quality of the craftsmanship of the building are mounting.

Even though It feels great to be back in the city, I can't help but feel in residential limbo. I can't go into my kitchen and make whatever I want, I can't ... Though for that feeling of limbo, there is the off setting feeling that I'm on Vacation.

I could definitely get used to never having to make up my room, never having to cook or clean. I also enjoy the "Good morning Mr. F ...", "Hello Mr. F...", "Would you like anything else Mr. F...?", even if more often than not they call me Mr. Furry. It's like an unasked for transitional aid from Life with the Folks to life on my own. But Soon I'll be back home, with new paint and new carpet... tomorrow just can't come soon enough, even if I love being a tourist.

My only real complaint: Getting up for work at 630am is definitely going to take some getting used to.

My real triumph: I've battled this cold into non-existence... finally :)

Well sights are better than sounds, and pictures are better than words. But the telephoned words of a friend I'll have to settle for.
For the first time since my apartment was flooded I have a trusted eye witness account. It's not bad. Not that bad at all. Actually there's nothing wrong at all, aside from the fact that I have no carpet.

The crew that was sent in perhaps was a little over zealous but I can appreciate their effort. Given the positioning of holidays the delays are completely understandable.

Almost a week ago, a hot water pipe in another apartment on my floor ruptured. Given that everyone was gone home for Christmas, the water continued to flow unchecked until enough destruction had occurred that a building employee discovered the mishap. The result was that the entire floor and all the apartments (including mine) flooded.

So all appears well. My home will be restored to a "better than new" level in another 24 (possibly 48) hours and in the mean time I'm staying at the Hotel Next Door. Not a bad trade off.

While I am in all honesty looking forward to returning to Halifax, there is some reluctance.
Reasons for... But look at that, It's time to go.

It's been a great Christmas Break. Possibly the Best I've ever had.
There wasn't a moment I couldn't find a reason to smile.
And If I couldn't smile, it's because it was temporarily impossible, but I smiled right afterward.

I'll visit again soon.

Mathematics holds all the answers.
It looks like a complicated mess. From the outside, at first glance it's 2 separate, but very tangled forms.

Get closer. Forget a complicated proof. But a simple acceptance of what's there gives the answer. Running a finger along the edge, tracing the changing colour and style, it becomes obvious... they are actually one.... one simply uncomplicate-able thing.

I'm good at math.
I'll work a proof, I'll develop a solution and I'll change what is accepted.
I'll uncomplicate it.

After reading my last post, maybe it was one of those 3:30am drunken rants...maybe... :) Upon Sobre review I had a blast last night. I just wish I could have seen the fireworks :)

But Don't worry, if you couldn't make the party my good Friend Otis has applied his endless talents and compiled a hilarious collection of the party's highlights :)

Click Here to View the New Year's Video (.mpg)
(Total time: 5:15 - 53.0 Mb)

Never again will our drunken mishaps be safely forgotten in the hangover haze of the next day :)
...And yes: that may be me working the "air" Dj Tables. I'm not having a seizure. But thank you for the concern ;)

"I caught a fare back this way and saw a huge blue flash... [radio chatter]... Cops and the firetrucks were there... [radio chatter].. looked like some fucking drunk ran his car straight through a pole."
We finally caught a cab and he gave us the information we needed to hear. Whether or not it was true, it seemed fitting.

The New Year's Party was great. As my Gin took hold so did my smile. Great time spent amongst Great friends. The moment of the New Year came... and went.... and then... The power, oh-so vital to the disco ball, the ipods, the stereo system, the TV, the lighting, and the essence of the party also went.

Plunged into pitch blackness a flurry of accidents occurred. Bottles clanked to the floor, apologies sang out as collisions filled in the crowded space. A fresh drink clinked as it was knocked over in the blindness. Unseen ice cubes scattered across the floor. Unaware, they were stepped upon and seconds later there was a crash - A broken arm for a poor girl. The influence of any Gin quickly vanished and the childlike momentum of a power outage suddenly slowed.

Outside in the freezing cold I stood with my Two best friends.
Our cab long overdue, weather setting in, but the declaration of an Iron Man Competition keeping us in place. There was only space inside, in the warmth for the weak.

The cab didn't show and we continued to stand. Snow now dusting our suits, my fingers comforting my pocketed stainless steel flask, my feet freezing solid.
We stood there waiting, talking, complaining, laughing; recapping, joking and offering commentary where none was asked for.

Another Great New Year's Celebration, even with all things considered.