"Dude!!! 29 is Like Twice your Age!"

"What?! Listen to what you're saying. 29 is not twice 24. And since when did we become comfortable enough with each other to use Dude?"

"You know what I mean. Did you actually do it?"

"No I didn't actually f-cking Do it!? Well At least I don't think I did."

"Wanna do the Citadel?"

"Sure, Citadel, then down around the harbor to the bridge."

"So?"

"So what?"

"Did you sleep with her!"

"F-ck off! The bitch is nuts. I seriously don't remember having ever seen her, M_ said I got in a cab and went home, He was the designated wingman, and of course he left me unsupervised."

"Dude, you've gotta stop drinking till memory failure"

"Why would someone say, 'We slept together 3 weeks ago, you were really drunk, I was sobre.' anyways? I mean, it's not something you make up.. unless of course you're shit nuts."

"Is that impossible?"

"No. It actually seems highly likely."

"Well F-ck the bitch... well, Ah.. You know what I mean.... Forget her. She'll probably end up stabbing you or something anyways."

"Ya. Good call. It's just bothering me... It Just doesn't make any sense."

"Nut cases usually don't."

Well Said.

For a lack of a better reason to post; Or perhaps for just a lack of a reason to post (aside from my alleged blogging addiction), so withour further delay today's post is:





Today's Event And Lesson Log:

• Mostly everyone at work is a Trekkie. This stunning fact was revealed by the T-Shirt I wore on casual Friday with Spock as you see him here splayed across it. Some criticisms and comments received; "You know, Spock only ever did that with his right hand, I know because I'm left handed, but excellent shirt."; "I don't know whether to love or hate your shirt, I love spoke, but I hate blue." My rebuttal - "Aren't you Italian, and even Spock wears blue."
  
  
• Never place wagers with people you don't know very well. I placed what was supposed to be a friendly wager on the curling Game between Canada and Finland. Good fun right? Wrong! Canada won, unfortunately, the result of the twisted and confusing terms of the bet are that I have to boast a mustache next week end and the other person's hair has to turn red.
  
  
• My latest Ambition: To become a Champion Biathlete. My Nordic Track Pro Skier is on Order :) Of course, there is one small problem with my plan to compete in Vancouver (aside from the fact that I haven't raced in cross country skiing in 5 years). I don't have a leotard, as was pointed out by a Large gentleman wearing a USAF jumpsuit behind us while in lineup to have our sandwiches made. I suppose the fact that I've never shot a gun may also be a potentional problem - but I play alot of video games, it can't be that different.
  
  
• Don't get into a conversation about form fitting clothing with someone you barely know, who is in better shape that you. Instead of smiling, acknowledging the USAF branded eavesdropper's comment and continuing on telling my plan to become a Champion Biathlete, I engaged him directly. We talked about leotards, I talked about my running spandex, and then the conversation turned "gay" in the words of witnesses. (I'll stop here, in case my parents read this - plus additional details aren't really needed). Just don't do it.
  
  
• $500 Dollars of Art is Quite a lot of Art - specifically, it's quite a lot of Henri Matisse. I fear I may have been over zealous in an attempt to put the finishing touches on my Bachelor Pad. I may have instead created an Art Gallery - Picasso, Van Gogh, Rothko, and Matisse. And Imagine, that's only half of What I wanted to spend. [The rest is buying my Nordic Track =) ]
  
  
  

I'll post later what lessons are learned from tonite's binge drinking with co-workers.

A 3 day compound hangover hit me somewhere over the Gulf Of St. Lawrence, this picture was taken only moments before I passed out either from exhaustion, or some residual weekend alcohol/High Altitude effect.

After what would seem to be a lull in partying, there has been an explosion. This weekend could quite possibly have killed me. If it hadn't been the drunken Military man who is an ex-girlfriend's very current boyfriend, then it could have been (and very nearly was) a crowd diver taking the plunge from the top of a 15 foot speaker tower. [I side stepped =) ]

The result is what seems to be perpetual exhaustion. My eyes literally and quite spontaneously fill with tears from a sudden burning brought on by intense urges to sleep ontop of my desk.
Sadly, sleep never seems to come in large enough quantities. Snow Plows, Fire Trucks, and Car accidents have repeatedly assaulted my sleep.

The forecast, much of the same with the strong chance of intensification, thanks to two weekends of binge drinking opportunity courtesy of my Employer; The next One Here, the one after in St. John's.

The remedy, continuous drawing from a free and bottomless coffee pot at work and enough daily vitamin supplements to kill a cat.

Now, the real question:

Is it wrong to date within one's own workgroup?
[opinions, anonymous or not are appreciated =) ]

"You're a mechanical right, this should be right up your alley?"

"I'm more into robotics and aerospace" I said, smiling.

He Paused, looked at me "Then what the hell are you doing here?" He said, laughing.

I couldn't help but laugh at the completely obvious and ridiculous contradiction of circumstance he had pointed out. Of course I didn't give the real answer, I wouldn't dare. I just laughed and shrugged.

"I don't know ___" I said, smiling and backing away from the door.

Now almost a Full 2 months in and Half way through, Work has taken on a completely different sentiment for me. I've gotten to know the people I work with, more as friends than as colleagues. Tasks have become games and work (the actually pencil pushing) has become oddly fun.

I'm not sure why the sudden change.
Probably because now, despite the enjoyment, the friends, and the experience, I don't give a shit if I ever go back.

... It all comes back to dreams and of course, San Francisco.

(I apologize for the pictures.. My desktop is still broken and I still can't upload my pictures from my camera)

It's Valentine's Day!

And strangely enough... I don't have a Valentine.
This is the first time in a while I haven't had the responsibility to celebrate.

Luckily before I could dwell on my Valentinelessness I became distracted by my first true workplace confrontation.

Naively, I elevatored up to the top floor of the Monument to all things Oil Needy. Orange pencil behind my ear, question filled notes tucked under my arm I knocked on the Big Kahauna's Door.

Not moments after I'd spun an idea (not even my idea) for a project I was to Manage and Supervise he unloaded.
"Write this down." Was the only warning as he leaned forward and my smile disappeared.

I sat there, The messenger being shot [to pieces], as he ranted on and on about how this and that couldn't be done, how the whole thing was a terrible idea.

He began to speak so quickly that it became impossible to write down what he was saying. Resigning to the situation, I sat back, nodding like an imp, making mental notes for later 're-tale' value while trying to find some relieving humor in the fact that there was a lunatic not 5 feet away, flirting with having a heart attack.

Throughout the barrage I glanced at my watch covertly; 5, 10, 12, 18, 22 minutes... pause in conversation!

Time to ACT!

"Well, I guess that's that. We'll have to set a meeting up next week and pound some of this stuff out I guess." I said. Taking courage from my frustration and sudden hate for the man, I quickly gathered together my things and made for the door.

Caught off guard by my retreat he looked at me as If he'd just taken a punch in the balls. "ummm.. oooh.. Ok."

You're fucking right it's ok you Dumb shit.... "Alright.. sounds good. thanks for your time..." I said, turning and not looking back.

In the elevator ride down I retold my verbal flogging for the first of 20 times. But with each successive telling, my frustration slowly oozed out and I slowly restored myself to a state of uncaring content.

Finally it did dawn on me.
It was Valentines Day.
I was alone for it. I thought... I pushed it out of my mind.

I got home.
Moments later, a knock at the door.
Expecting the same usual nuisance I answered. Nope. The Fedex man.
A Valentine's Day Care Package :)
More Chocolate than enough chocolate to get me through the rest of the ngiht.... and sadly.. pathetically... A copy of Elizabethtown.

So at the end of the day, with no distractions left and half of my chocolate gone I was left thinking.... The thoughts that had nudged at me all day, the same ones that had been repeatedly pushed away came back, amplified by the movie.

I miss you.

yes you,
The one who thinks this couldn't possibly be said, again, about them.

FORD
Often this word is taken as the Motor company's founding father's last name.

Unknown to many it's actually an accronym.
Take your pick:
1) Fixed Or Repaired Daily
2) Found On Road Dead

"Why do we have the hood up? N____, Do you think that by staring at this we're suddenly going to be able to fix it?"

"I thought you said the gas gauge was broken"

"Shut up! It is. I filled it up last night!"

"Hey N____, Smile!" *click*

"Put that fucking camera away before I smash it."

Some time later, after a call to AAA, a redirect to CAA, some snow ball throwing and the construction of a roadside snowman rescue arrived.

He promptly climbed in and turned the key. Amazingly, The car didn't start. After a quick inspection the diagnosis was given, "Still under warranty right?"

"I think so... it's a handmedown."

"... It's probably just the ignition coil... "I could see the look on the tow truck driver's face as he ignored K's statement... oh you poor baby.

Today's lessons: Adhere to police issured warnings to stay off the road. Don't buy a ford and Don't try and small talk to a tow Truck driver.

Current Status: Shut-in, Enduring Another SnowStorm

It is almost laughable at just what little it takes for good old unrelenting Mother Nature to shut down this city.
I'm not one to squabble about the weather, I just find myself wondering how civilization ever evolved in this place if the first sign of snow results in police orders to stay inside.

Days like today provide a clearer perspective on the subject of living alone.

The relaxing hangout, the drinking (getting trashed), All day video gaming, throwing snowballs in the house that used to accompany snow days has vanished. Though I love living alone, I do miss the company on days like this.

So with the absence of any sort of Poser Frat Boys to Hang with and currently xboxless, I'm left to my own devices:
10:00am: Excitement about impending storm sets in
10:15am : reality of situation sets in, excitement lost.
10:16am: go back to bed
11:18am: Sitting in my boxers, feet kicked up on the couch, I have my daily bagel and coffee and take in my "early" Sunday morning Travel channel dose of Island Escapes. Shortly thereafter, learning about New Caledonia proves to be thoroughly depressing.
12:22pm: I become gay: With an episode of What not to Wear playing on mute and Madonna's newest album playing on my stereo I begin baking..... Muffins :)
1:37pm: Smells in the corridor have arisen suspicion. My door (left unlocked in last night's stupor) opens without a knock and in walks N, her dog immediately running into my living room, moving to mark his territory for a third time.
1.38pm: Dog marks new territory after having been scared by my "STOP! STOP!! SAM! NOOO! "

Speaking around the muffin stuffed in her face. "Opps. I'm sooo sorry"

"Fuck sake, ya because it's a complete surprise! Will you either stop bringing him in here, or please.. PLEASE! Diaper him." I said

Collecting the Dog up in her arms and ignoring my anger and the fact I was wearing an apron over my pajamas, "Wanna go to an IMAX? K___ 's coming"

"They're open?"

"Ya, K___ Called, Come on!" She nagged as K came to the door.

"Nice apron"

"It's Italian" I said.

"How European of you.. Come on, let's go, it starts in an hour"

"Fine.. let me change."I said, not mentioning my, nor their obviously unshowered states

Surprisingly enough, work has taken a turn for the better.
Maybe it's the positive thinking, perhaps it was the good wishes, or maybe it's just the fact that stuff (i.e. multimillion dollar pieces of infrastructure) have stopped failing (exploding).

Either way, I am now only slightly convinced that I've sold myself out.

In my latest bid to boast maturity, I've subscribed to a daily newspaper.

"You are not serious?"

"I got a really good deal on it." I said, smiling to K who happens to live next door and often (and unfortunately) leaves for his job at the same time as I do. He burst out laughing as I picked up my paper, tucking it in my briefcase and joining him to wait for the elevator.

"I keep forgetting that you're old."

I groaned. It burned. Not that I care about my age, it's just hard being reminded that he's a year younger than me and finished what I'm doing. He's already experiencing in full what I'm just getting a taste of and his apartment shows it.

"You know, I'm usually a morning person." I said smiling; lying.

"I know." He said, perhaps sounding more abrupt than he wanted as the elevator opened. "
As I stepped off at the lobby and he stayed on to continue to the Parking level where his European chariot awaited he shouted after me "It's D___'s birthday tonite, We should take her out."

I turned around. "Are you sure you don't mean, 'It's D___'s Birthday Tonite, I should take her out?' " I asked.

He flushed. "I need a wingman."

"Fine I'll wing you,... but only because she's Hot." I said, "I'll see if I can get in touch with N and them."

"If she's hot, who cares." The concierge chimed in, in his completely inappropriate way.

I could hear the Door Close button being punched repeatedly, K fleeing the awkward conversation I was now about to be Trapped in. "Call me at work with details." I said.

"A'ight" Came the muffled shout from behind the closing doors.

"You guys should try talking with the doors open." The doorman said now, fishing for conversation.

'Jesus Christ' I thought. I smiled without making eye contact, made a fake laugh and bolted out the doors.

We all met up, all friends and one hurting-to-be-coupled would-be couple. Happy Birthdays were soon followed by more than ample worknight drinking. Bored by the current conversation I took to looking around.

Again, I caught a girl at the bar looking at me. I couldn't remember how many times it had been, but it had been a lot. I looked to N who was sitting across from me. "Do you know that girl behind me? Is she looking at me?" I said, trying to be subtle.

"Hmm.. she's pretty Hot but I don't know her though, whoa... she's looking again."

I turned around, as if to look at the door. Again, eye contact, a smile, then a look away.

"What are you doing?" N asked.

"What? What the hell do I do? I don't know what to do?" I said.

"Go get a drink." She said. "Go get the bartender."

"You're insane. Maybe she just thinks I'm someone else." I said.

"Fuck off. Go get a drink."

"I have a drink"

In a classic move ( a truly classic move) N's arm whipped across the table, tipping my table-topped pint and splashing it across the table. The beer spilled over the side of the table, lightly catching me, but fully emptying.

"Oh.. fucking brilliant." I said (or something like it) and slid back my chair and headed to the bar. Only in retrospect did I realize how obvious this must have been. Not just me going to the bar (for we had a waitress and had had one all night) but the entire beer spilling sequence that had gone down.

"Excuse me...." The bartender wouldn't pay attention. I glanced to her standing beside me, but decided against using line like 'How do you get their attention around here?' and instead opted for. "Hi."

"Hi." It was returned... and with a smile.

'Fuck the drink' I thought, 'I have to work in the morning'. In thinking so, I abandoned my entire collection of experiences in ice breaking and instead opted to be an idiot. Maybe it was because we'd watched "Road Trip" the night before or maybe it was simply my blood alcohol level (however low it might have been) but ...

I made as if I was still trying to order a drink but opened myself for more conversation,"You know, I'm sitting over there dying, I'm not just a third wheel, I'm a fifth wheel."

She laughed, a tell tale good sign, "Always the Bachelor?" She asked.

"As of late it would seem." My speech, by all accounts was unslurred.

"Well it could be worse... you could be married." She said, almost sheepishly.. Smiling.

I couldn't believe it. Without drinks, without wingmen, without brutally cheesy lines, I'd done it on my own. I'd walked up to someone, a complete stranger and started a conversation. One that seemed to actually be developing and progressing.

A while later (what turned out to be more than a hour later) a squeeze came on my elbow and my coat was pushed into my free arm. "We're gonna leave, we're all settled up."

"Ok I'm coming." I said, and turned shrugging, "I guess it's posse out"
Loyal to myself, I made no effort to get a phone number, nor any attempt at an affectionate goodbye. By all accounts she was 'Hot' [male], 'gorgeous [female]. So why? The answer is complicated.
A kiss on the cheek came and I didn't shrug it off. I smiled and offered up the night's first 'line ' "Hopefully I'll see you around."

"Hopefully"
---
Soon to be 25 and I finally, spontaneously learned how to mingle?
No.
I thank the gift of a GQ subscription. =)
(what? No sense lying)

Round and Round, and round and round...

The system of Perpetual Survivalist Change; I've been a long time advocate. The fundamental principle is simple; "Continued evolution brings one closer to perfection, continued change leaves nothing for hurt to cling to".

It was only a couple of weeks ago a good long-recent again friend called me on it. "...Always the chameleon."
Thing was, I didn't even realize it had started up again then, though now its quite clear it had. Wheels had begun to turn, thoughts had started to form and be thought. Why? Hurt, unhappiness, desire.

"Holy shit, What did you do?"

"Hi...new glasses, like them? uber euro."

In utter disbelief "What the fuck did you do to your hair?"

"Me? I didn't do anything to it."

"Holy shit."

"Like it that much?"

"No no...It's fantastic. It's... it's just a bit of a shock.., why?"

"Ya.. well. Just.... time for a change... I thought I'd finally made good on my threat."

"New glasses? Blue? You fucking faggit."

Of course, Chameleons Can't talk...
... "There's no rehearsal for RL" an advice nerd told me.
I just evolved to make the stumbling and bumbling incoherence funny.

"You two Fella's look like you could use some news"

I looked up from sidewalk rolling passed, the conversation with my Uncle Paused.

A Drunken Mope, quite like what I imagine I must look like smiled at me and pushed a newspaper into my suddenly defensively positioned hands.

In a Blur I heard, "Thanks" as My Uncle's hand grabbed the paper from my loose grip and smacked the Drunken Kid on top of the head with it before throwing it back at him.

"And you left the Air Force?" I asked, laughing as the would be, scrawny, boozed bravened tool scurried off.

"I still do consulting work for them." He said as he held open the door to the Elephant & Castle, pints of bravery waiting to be consumed.
---

I'm glad I took the time to go to Ottawa. Mainly I needed the escape from this city. But also, It was nice to visit my sister. We're not close but it was still good to see her, especially given that we didn't fight at all the weekend. It was almost kind of Surreal.

Ever since returning from my reprieve, I've developed a bit of a different outlook. I've been stuffed somewhat surprisingly into some very seriously technically demanding tasks at work, I've also (perhaps daringly) mixed up the workplace. So in short, work is hardly worth complaining about anymore.

It has finally snowed. In what seems to be in accordance with the way things are done around here, when something has been neglected over time, it is made up for in one large deposit.
So not only has it snowed, we've been buried.

In the meantime, if anyone has any jam, please pass it along.
My desktop is toast.
The rest of my Ottawa pictures, including the PROOF of my skating of entire Canal are trapped on my Camera... Except of course, the above provided by my Uncle.