Ponderings and Musings

There are many things I enjoy about Canada. I must say that yhere are many, many things I love about our neighbors to the north. Everywhere I turn in Charlottetown there’s a young little bearded hotty worthy of many woof points. The folks of this fine province are very friendly. There are smiles on the faces of the fine Canadian people. It’s nice to be away from the depression that has seemingly tackled the Americans. The Canadians also make great beer.

Tonight I joined Jennifer and David, and Dave’s mom Janet, for their annual trek to a dinner theatre show in Charlottetown to celebrate Jennifer’s birthday. Tonight’s performance was called “The Big Fat Island Wedding Crashers”.

The production was delightful. Full of familiar rock and pop tunes from the 80s and 90s, this group of performers were quite impressive in that they all took turns playing various instruments and singing various parts. I had a wonderful time. They were funny and extremely talented.

As I mentioned before, our fine neighbors to the north make great beer. Tonight’s brew of choice was Labatts Blue. Now Dave, my almost brother-in-law and all around great yet exceedingly mischievious guy, is a beer drinker. Here in P.E.I. you don’t order beer by the bottle, fuck no, you order beer by the god damn bucket. That’s right, the perky waiter or waitress brings you buckets full of bottles of beer. The folks at the other end of our table, who were a very charming couple from le Province du Québec, settled for red wine with their meals. Jennifer and Janet had white wine.

Dave and I downed THREE buckets of beer. Perhaps four. I lost count. I have mentioned an uncountable number of times that I am a two beer queer. Give me two beers and I’m either easy or asleep, hopefully one before the other.

Tonight I had SEVEN. That would be seven beers. SEVEN. That means if I were to count the number of beers by way of the Pointer Sisters Sesame Street song, I would be more than halfway through the track before having to stop.

The two beer queer did it thrice plus one. Roll the “r” in “thrice” when you read that sentence. It makes it sound exotic. To celebrate, I called my mother and left her a slurred voicemail that will undoubtedly haunt me someday and then I called Earl to make sure he was still in the states while I was in Canada. It was hard to tell because the room started spinning. I think I was getting time zones confused. Oh, oh oh – I’m in a different time zone right now! Who knew? There’s another time zone on the North American continent to the east of the Eastern time zone! I guess I never realized that! It’s the Atlantic Time Zone. If I were to go to Newfoundland (which I probably won’t), there’s even another time zone that only counts as half. So if it’s 11:00 here it’s 11:30 there but it’s 10:00 home. Now that’s making my head spin. What’s odd is that I feel as comfortable in the Atlantic Time Zone as I do in the Central Time Zone or when the Eastern Time Zone is not in that fucking daylight saving time.

Tomorrow morning I leave the island and head for Québec. This is such a lovely adventure. It’s buckets of fun.

I’m going to bed.

So last week I mentioned that “when it rains, it pours” when it comes to opportunities. I would have never thought that I would be so popular that more than one company would want me to work for them, but today I was presented with a decision. One was to return to the telephone company where I used to work and the other was with another company that I can’t really talk about because it’s a top secret project.

I went with the ringy-dingy route. And what’s most important is that my gut says it’s the right choice.

By working for the telephone company I don’t need to compromise my school schedule (they are very accomodating) and I’ll be working on projects that I’m very familiar with, so I am really jazzed about the opportunity. The other job opportunity was something that I used to do but haven’t done in a long while. The opportunity was quite enticing, but I felt it would have detracted from my educational efforts, and come hell or high water, getting my Civil Engineering degree is something that I am going to accomplish. I screwed up college once, I’m not going to screw it up again.

So come Monday I’m back to work for a while. And I couldn’t be happier.

Earl and I are situated at camp for the weekend. The awning is up. The picnic table is positioned. The camper is stable. There were no cross words. It just comes together. He’s a good man. I love him.

I let Earl run the new camera for the first time today, and the resulting picture is above. As I begin the next year of my life (can I admit to myself that I’ve started my 40th year as of today, as I turn 39 at 7:30 p.m. this evening?) I’ve adopted a theme as inspired by a great B-52’s song.

Follow Your Bliss.

When it rains, it pours. That’s what I’ve always heard and that’s what I’ve always believed. It’s proving to be true once again.

I’ve been checking out job opportunities to carry through until school starts up again. I’ve chatted with folks I haven’t talked with in a while, hoping that my conscious effort to not burn any bridges when I left a position really meant that I didn’t burn any bridges. It’s funny, when I leave a job I swear that I’ll keep in touch but I’m not as good at it as I hope to be. I guess I think of the whole experience as closing a chapter and moving on in the book of life.

I’ve had several good meetings this week with several people. And now I have several opportunities to choose from. What to do, what to do.

I feel like I’ve been kissed by opportunity.

Sweltering from the oven we call our home, Earl and I decided we needed a breath of air-conditioned air, so we are currently parallel parked on a hightop at the local Panera. This is the store that I often say has gone ghetto, as this is where many customers don’t know what Asiago cheese is and allow their children to color on the wallpaper.

In short, it’s an experience.

Tonight isn’t too bad, I have to admit, as the place is only about a quarter full. As soon as we walked in, I waved hello to a recent classmate. I told Earl she is the one that yapped out the wrong answers throughout the entire course. Other than that I find her quite charming. Perhaps we’ll be in another class together again this fall.

There’s a little piece of woof sitting directly behind Earl. When Earl saw me steal a glance, he informed me that he sat here for a reason. He’s so thoughtful. I wonder if I can sneak a picture somehow.

There were two girls in line in front of us who were audibly impressed with the presentation of the pastry they ordered. I saw a bear claw with a strawberry on top, but they apparently saw a piece of art. To each his own, I guess.

We were going to go use the new wi-fi service that has blanketed the downtown area, but you have to sit outside to enjoy it tonight because all the sidewalks have been rolled up for the evening. It is after 8 p.m., after all.

I’m probably going to be a little ranty in this blog entry, so if you’re not in the mood for that sort of thing go somewhere else over the rainbow or something.

Have you ever had one of those days where it feels like everything you attempt is such a struggle to accomplish? I think I’m having one of those days. I fully realize the fairly charmed existence I have as a full-time college student during summer break, but some things just bug me.

I started off the morning with a bike ride. All was well and good until I was about two miles from home when I got a flat tire. Unfortunately, I was on a fairly busy roadway at the time. Looking back I should have just stuck to the canal trails. Nevertheless, with the way people drive these days I didn’t feel comfortable changing my tire on the side of the road, lest I get run over by a Paris Hilton wannabe yapping on her phone, sipping her mocha-chocha la la la la and driving her Hummer, so I opted to walk home instead.

This is where it got interesting, as it seemed that I somehow had a target on my back and front as people were literally aiming for the cyclist with the big mustache who happened to be walking.

Let me just clarify a few things here so that we’re all on the same page. Riding your bicycle on the sidewalk is illegal. Riding your bicycle facing traffic (on the left shoulder in the U.S.) is illegal. Walking with traffic (instead of against it) is illegal. I saw all these things while walking back from the scene of my flat tire. Oh, and while I’m talking cycling, can I just say that if the cyclist is wearing a cycling jersey, cycling shorts, a helmet and cycling gloves, in addition to riding what appears to be a very expensive bicycle, there’s a really good chance that he or she knows what they’re doing and there’s no reason to “toot toot toot” at them to let them know they’re there. We know you’re there. Just show a little respect and you’ll get the same instead of a cycling gloved finger aimed in your direction.

By the time I got home I was very sweaty and moderately cranky. I would have loved to lose myself in a geek world in the cool confines of our cellar, but I told Earl I would go job hunting today so I made myself look presentable and headed over to the local temp agency. After all, I’m just looking for a position for the next six weeks or so until school starts again. Unfortunately, the fine folks at the temp agency don’t accept walk-ins in the morning. I was instructed to come back this afternoon. I wish there was a sign posted somewhere, anywhere in the office so I didn’t waste my time or the time of the receptionist who was busy reading tmz.com on her computer. So I’m heading back there this afternoon.

Things are just bugging me a little bit today. However, when I came home for lunch I was delighted to see that Earl was here as well so I’m sure my afternoon is going to be much better.

I’ve never been good at art. My cousin’s daughter can look at a photograph and draw an incredible portrait that would take your breath away, but me, I can’t even paint by numbers. In Sociology class last semester I was asked to draw a person and I drew a stick figure. My fellow students made fun of me, though they refrained from yelling “neener, neener, neener” and pointing. I think the mustache scared them.

For my father’s 60th birthday party (which went very well, despite Mother Nature being quite feisty with the weather at times this afternoon), I made a photo collage of various pictures from over the years. I tried to select photos that would mean something to him and stick to the family theme, incorporating many elements of his life experience. Now this is something that I enjoyed doing very much. I can handle grabbing photos, scanning them, printing them out and arranging them in an interesting manner.

Rosie O’Donnell often takes photos and does artful things with them and then makes a video to share with the world. I’m thinking of taking a stab at doing the same. Even though I mix up the concepts behind decoupage, papier mache and fondu, I should think that with today’s technology I should be able to make up something that’s interesting and expressive.

And isn’t that what art is all about?

Earl and I, along with my sister and my stepmother, are hosting a big birthday bash for my father tomorrow. We are expecting around 30 people or so. It should be a really good time.

One of the amazing things about hosting a party here at the house is the sudden realization that we have some projects that need attending to. I find it quite humorous that when we are doing the daily routine bit we don’t really give a flip that the downstairs toilet has a slight leak or that the siding is hanging precariously off the back of the house as a result of a recent thunderstorm. But have a few people over and bam, there’s Earl and I grabbing the toilet like a bunch of thugs, yanking it off the floor, expertly replacing the wax seal and cramming the toilet back in place. It was a 20 minute job that we should have done when we first discovered the leak but who really has the motivation to do it. That’s what makes having a party so much fun. It gives you the extra boost needed to scrape gunk off the bathroom floor.

I guess it’s kind of startling to see what we’ve done to make the house presentable for the party. I’ve repotted plants, I’ve stored the garden hoses away (I don’t even do that for winter), hell, I even swept out the camper in case someone wants to use it for an afternoon delight (o.k., since it’s all relatives come to the party that last thought just kind of creeped me out). Tomorrow morning I might go absolutely insane and change the cat’s litter on a non-garbage day.

Such a walk on the wild side.

Today has been an odd sort of day. Earl had a doctor’s appointment at 10:30, a stress test where you run on the treadmill until you’re in pain, so he came home around 9:45 to change his clothes so he was dressed more appropriately. I think he wanted to show a little chest to Dave, the bearish technician. So his popping in threw me off my game a little bit while I was getting ready to leave for school.

The master clock that runs my collection of school clocks did not survive the last round of thunderstorms we had, so the clocks throughout the house are running on this makeshift setup I have while the clock is getting repaired. I know this is going to sound strange, but with the regular setup the clocks make a click at the 58th second then at the :00 of every minute. I couldn’t manage that with the makeshift setup, which causes the clocks to click at the 56th second then at the :00 of every minute. So the clicks are spaced further apart which is confusing my internal rhythm. It is sort of like Chinese Water Torture.

When I got to class only five of the twenty or so showed up for our final class before the Final Exam on Thursday. This threw me off a little bit, as did the fact that the professor came in clean shaven, where he usually has a goatee.

When I got home from school, ready to make a sandwich and settle down for “The Addams Family”, I found Earl at home surfing on his computer. While he survived the stress test just fine, he has no heart trouble at all, he didn’t feel in the mood to go back to work so he took the afternoon off. I’m glad that he’s home, but I didn’t feel as close to John Astin and Carolyn Jones as I usually do.

By the way, is it mysterious and spooky and all together ooky that I find myself rather attracted to John Astin as Gomez Addams?

After spending the morning doing chores, Earl and I took a few moments to relax on our patio this afternoon. Like the well oiled machine we strive to be, we split up the “honey do” list and just got everything done. While Earl was grocery shopping, I had the task of trimming the out-of-control bushes in the landscaping across the front of the house. We planted the bushes three years ago and haven’t done much with them since. They are now tamed back to a reasonable size. I was expecting to find a buried treasure or something but all I found was cat poop.

After the landscaping was under control and the groceries were put away, we went to Lowe’s and picked up a few goodies for the house, including a bird feeder, some potting soil and geraniums from the abandoned decorative pots along the driveway. All this outdoor activity coupled with my craziness in cleaning the house on Friday has me feeling pretty good about this place we call home.

Now if the weather would just feel like July 1st instead of May 1st it’d be picture perfect.