Wednesday, May 29, 2002

I hate writing proposals. The client only reads the last page anyway. They just want to know how much, not why we are buying this. I just spent 4 hours writing some crap on what a CPU license is, and how 5x12 tech support differs from 7X24 support. Can you figure out that one?

This pays my way but it corrodes my soul.....

Monday, May 27, 2002

And the mountains shall drop sweet wine, and the hills shall melt.

Friday, May 17, 2002

i am off to see Attack of the Clones tonight. Part of me is bracing for disappointment, while part of me is bracing for the annoyance of standing in line with hundreds of children and adults alike, dressed in Darth Vader costumes and sporting light sabres.

Do you ever blow off work? I did today, and I don't feel guilty, which is unusual because I feel guilty taking an hour long lunch break. My absenteeism was for a worthy cause, as my sister is visiting from Montreal, and I feel I have to help her babysit my 2 nephews. I am not much of a babysitter; i just put a video on the tv and them come up here to use my brother's computer.

Our public speaking club was booted out of its meeting room yesterday, even though we booked the room. No one respects our Outlook bookings. Actually, I was glad it was broken up because it was starting to really annoy me. The topic of the day seemed to be "luck" and people were talking about moments of luck in their lives.

Moments where I have been tremendously lucky:

Falling over a cliff while skiing and landing in a soft pillow of snow between to jagged rock pillars

Crashing my truck at 50pmh and missing that snowplow by a few feet.

Never having contracted any STD or caused any women to be "up the stick", despite frequent unprotected sex.

Thursday, May 16, 2002

Sometimes I need to be left alone. Today is not one of them, but sometimes I would like to be able to bring my plate of prawn vindaloo from the common area microwave back to my desk without any comments from my coworkers; " Oh, that smells good", "What's that, did you make it yourself?" I was doing just this last Tuesday, walking quickly to avoid their glances, picking the loneliest route through the labyrynthine layout of the cubicles, thinking to myself that the first person who comments will be told to fuck off.

No one said a word.

Perhaps it was the scowl I wore to scare them away. I have perfected this scowl from my interactions with panhandlers, who are littered on Vancouver's corners; discarded humans on welfare, or long-term disability, former and current heroin addicts, "displaced" forestry and fishery workers, who all seem to have said "fuck it" and now spend their days pushing shopping carts full of pop cans (this is the real reason Vancouver is so clean). As I approach them I let my face turn mean and sour, and I stare right into their eyes. The point is to challenge them, and they will not even bother asking for the change.

Friday, May 03, 2002

The first real day of spring in Vancouver. Not today, of course, as it is chilly as November outside. On April 30. Warm breezes for the first time since early September. I am happily paying my taxes, so delightful a citizen to pony up right away, right by the time i said i would. how noble it seemed for something that so many have tried and failed to avoid.

Giving the government all that money had lifted my spirits and had me in the mood to give more. Tim Horton's offered me the perfect chance to treat my colleagues with a family pack of Timbits. I grabbed a box of them and a coffee and headed out into the mid-morning sun, convinced that life was good. The Canadiens had only the evening before defeated the Boston Bruins 2-1 to win the best of seven series in six games. It is not truly spring in Montreal until that happens.

Spring. My best spring ever had to have been 1996, in a place called Morgins, crammed into a valley next to the French border. Teaching a group of 16 year old American and Egyptian girls from Cairo how to snowboard. Days were spent jumping off a quarterpipe that we had convinced a groomer to build for us. It was a perfect vertical launch, with a soft and easy landing. ( I pulled my one and only 360 on this jump). My students were more interested in learning to be snowboarders than actually snowboarding. But that was okay with me, who saw my role not only as a snowboard instructor (a job for which I had no training; I had never even taken a lesson), but as the facilitator of their memorable vacation to Switzerland. If that meant 5 nights of drinking but snowboarding every morning then it was fine with me.

This ski camp for wealth expatriates and diplo-brats was run by alcoholics and lunatics, unable to find suitable employment that would tolerate their bizarre personal skills and excessive drinking. It is unpleasant to deal with people who are hungover all the time