1472 - Military Barbie

I’m writing a bit late this week because I decided that I don’t like writing entries Sunday, especially Sunday evening. I’ve found recently that I have more time during the week, so I’m going to try writing then instead. The unfortunate downside to all of this is that I’m that much more removed from the events of last week, and so I’m likely to miss some of the boorish, drab details of my life that are the very essence of this work. They are the anchors that keep my many readers seated in front of their screens, reading and re-reading my entries, laughing and crying, until they lie their radiated heads down upon the keyboard and go to sleep (editor’s note: he’s really trying, huh?)..

Well, the first four days of last week were boring, or so I recalled on the equally-dull fifth. I’m having trouble recalling why I thought they were so boring, because I’m beginning to remember a bit of excitement (editor’s note: the author’s definition of excitement is the raising of one’s heart beat by one beat per minute – be warned!). Monday was an off day, to make up for my travels the week before. I got a lot done – taxes, reading, weight-lifting, cleaning (editor’s note: yet another questionable definition). After supper, I went to JW’s to watch a movie.

The movie of choice was Proof, and it followed the life of the daughter (Gwynneth Paltrow) of an ingenious mathematician (Anthony Hopkins – one of my favourite actors) who’d fallen mentally ill and died. She apparently shared his condition to an extent, as she often interacted him despite his condition (not alive). The movie focused on a new mathematical theorem and whom it was that proved it – the father, or the daughter. We ultimately learn that it is the daughter who’s done the work, though finding this out is made interesting by the fact that we do not always know whether we are flashing back to a scene when the father was alive, or a scene where he is being imagined by the daughter. I liked the movie overall.

On Tuesday, I didn’t do much of anything that I can remember. I probably surfed the net, checked and rechecked Facebook… I really don’t know what else. I think I read a couple of Coasts and a newspaper.

Wednesday was an interesting day at work. It had become obvious that I was not being moved over to product development (from professional services) anytime soon, as our Seattle friends like to make new friends AND keep the old (to say nothing of their metallic properties). However, a glimmer of hope was offered by B-JN, who discussed with me an important product development task that he saw me starting the following week. The task was both interesting and quite challenging (well, I saw it that way, regardless of how it actually might’ve turned out). He said he was going to have B-SM contact our Seattle friends and have me released from their paralyzing grip.

Well, I’m not one to keep you on the edge of your seat. The entire week passed without further mention of this task (to me). However, I did overhear B-PM discussing the task with another employee Friday morning. This other employee is neither a new nor an old friend of the Seattle folks. This week (skipping ahead a bit), I heard the task mentioned a few more times, but I’ve yet to have anyone actually tell me directly whether or not I’ll be working on the task. They could at least tell me that they tried, but couldn’t, pry me away from Seattle. To use one of my own catchphrases, “what a joke” (editor’s note: it is not unusual for one to say what one often says).

Wednesday evening, I went to yoga class, having missed two weeks away. I found the class difficult, and I had trouble keeping up, though I sensed I was not the only one. I also badly hurt the top of my left foot, though I think the bulk of the damage was done by a poorly-fitting sneaker. The class was very small, and only a few of the people I’d met the first two weeks were there. It was kind of sad – when I walked in the door, I wondered whether I’d come at the right time. The difficult class and the different people soured my experience a bit, but having just come from another class, I can say that the class was the exception, not the rule.

After class, I went over to JW’s. It was late, and by the time she got her work done and we talked a bit, it was bedtime.

Thursday evening, AN, AB, TA and I went to AD’s for what one might call a birthday party. We brought cheese, meat, cake and liquor (presents and otherwise). The evening was spent eating the various snacks while being fed blender drinks excitedly made by AD. He fancies his well-stocked bar, and he seems to nearly force drinks down our throats when we go over. It’s difficult to say no to tasty drinks such as grasshoppers and pina coladas, and I didn’t. I had two of each! We sang happy birthday, had some cake, and headed home around midnight.

Friday evening, I stayed at work until six waiting for the bloody train to get into the train station, with Dad on it. It’s always late, especially on Fridays, but especially when I’m picking him up on a Friday. I’d promised B-CC I’d play pool with him at seven, so I had Dad drop me off directly at the pool hall.

I’d forgotten to move my parking pass from Mum’s car to Dad’s when I took his car for a couple of days midweek. So, I had to take out my wallet to pay for parking on the way to the train station. I left the wallet in the coffee holder, where it stayed as I paraded into the pool hall.

Inside, I found B-CC at the golf simulator, hitting balls. We took turns hitting balls on a mock driving range. It was entertaining, though I found the censors hadn’t improved much since my grandfather and I played years ago. It still didn’t seem to accurately translate a swing into a believable trajectory. Anyway, it was fun to swing a club, as it’s been a few months.

After the simulator, we played pool. I had trouble focusing on the games, as I kept trying to watch the door for Dad and my wallet. Several times I expressed concern to B-CC that it hadn’t yet arrived, and I imagined that he might be thinking I was trying to skip out on the bill. It finally arrived, however, not too long before we decided to leave. I managed to win the majority of the games, despite my obvious lower skill level.

Saturday morning I got up and did a few weights. Dad called, wanting to go to the Shearwater Military Aviation Museum (that may or may not be its title – but it was a military museum with planes, located in Shearwater, so it’ll do). We headed over after lunch, and found it to be a big disappointment – there was some sort of collectors’ expo going on, and the museum was packed with doll-toting, model-building enthusiasts. They blocked views of the planes, and their tables and ropes blocked total access to others. We were definitely seeing a singular, definable segment of society – largely country and military folk (the latter makes sense), and largely older, retired men sometimes accompanied by their wives. Many people were there just to chat; others were there cashing in their pension cheques for overpriced, dusty models.

We got to see a few planes close up, but there was very little in the way of documentation, so you never really knew exactly what you were looking at. The most interesting parts were a mock war room with a large chart showing the positions of ships in the North Atlantic, and a tiny model train display. The model train display didn’t have a loop in the track, so we watched the owners drive the trains forward, then backward along the same track. They even had model houses, cars and people. Model train watching is definitely an activity suited to only the easiest of excitable people. Having said that, I’d love to build a model train room some day – they’re fun to put together. I still have some trains from when I was a child (including a G.I. Joe engine – those collectors would’ve drooled over it – military AND trains, together at last).

How did I wind up talking so much about that lousy museum? Maybe I enjoyed it on some subconscious level? Anyway, after the visit to the museum, Dad got his groceries, after which I dropped him off at home. I took went down to JW’s, and soon after we drove out to East Side Mario’s for dinner. We stopped by the house again to get some gift certificates from Dad, which is important because I forgot to use them. That’s 0 for my last 2 “gift certificate” meals.

We both had bowtie pasta meals. JW had some kind of boring white-sauced dish, while I had a firecracker shrimp dish – hot and tasty. I used to love the bread at East Side Mario’s, but I found it to be stale and not particularly tasty. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve toned it down a bit to stop people eating bread and salad as a meal, and bringing their actual meals home in a doggy bag. We had lots of bread and salad, and we brought part of our meals home in a doggy bag (editor’s note: try a bit of mold, boys – definitely one example of pretty colours not being appreciated).

After the meal, we walked over to Chapter’s. I bought CA a couple of books for his birthday. Then, we went to Future Shop to buy a USB key for JW. I had a gift certificate burning a hole in my pocket, but I couldn’t find anything worthy of using it.

We walked next door from Future Shop and got our groceries at Superstore. After that, we headed back to JW’s place and watched Billy Elliott, set in a mining town in industrial Northern England. While I got a good kick out of the thick accents, I found it difficult to understand the words early on. The movie focused on a boy in the town who loved to dance. Much to his father’s eventual chagrin, he would head to boxing class, only to wind up attending ballet class instead. The father’s tension over the situation is heightened by the fact that he, among many others, is on strike from the local mine. In the end, the boy wins a scholarship to a famous dance school, and his father accepts his son’s lifestyle without assuming him a “poof.” I liked the movie – it was interesting to see a chapter of English history.

Sunday morning, we got up and went for a morning walk. We wound up eating breakfast at Cora’s again. This time, having not been satisfied with the fruit side salad my last visit, I ordered the large fruit platter, which comes with cheese and toast. It was huge, but unfortunately, it was a disappointment. There was little in the way of desirable fruit – perhaps because nothing is in season. There were no African gooseberries (though there were in the picture of the platter), no berries (other than rather unfresh strawberries) and no banana (!). There was sliced apple (two kinds), sliced pear, sliced plum (all of which were either over- or under-ripe), an abundance of various melons, one kiwi, pineapple (the best part) and semi-rotten grapes. I’ll order the platter again in August, I guess – I really wanted some blueberries, raspberries and blackberries.

After breakfast, we slowly walked back to JW’s. After a nap, I headed home, then to my parents’. I didn’t get to watch the golf because it was postponed by the high winds that would eventually strike us. Boo Weekly (yes, that’s his real name) won the tournament on Monday, which was nice because he’d broken under the pressure a month earlier, missing a short putt to win a tournament. Sometimes after that happens, the player is never quite the same, and their career is effectively over.

After dinner, I headed back home and played Civilization for the first time in quite a while. I enjoyed it, but I haven’t had a chance to get back to it yet. I also spent an hour deciding not to move ahead on yet another rebuild of my Web site. I kind of want to do it (mostly because I can purposely learn new programming methods along the way), but I’m put off by the mountain of work required. I just can’t get started – I can’t even seem to break it down into small parts, focusing on one part while ignoring the rest. All I can see is the finish line, and damn, it’s far away.

I’m now a week behind writing. I’ve already lived through another week that I have to write about – but not now. Somehow a lot has built up recently, and I’m still working through the backlog. “Right on to all those English girls named Cherise….”

I’m currently listening to: 103.5 - The Beat of Halifax (yes, the radio - amazing, isn't it? The song is Drinkin' in L.A. by Bran Van 3000.)

Movies watched this week: Proof, Billy Elliott