Category: Me

The people living in 1304: doomed.

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

Our patio furniture has arrived. Well, most of it anyway; the the table & benches were delivered this morning, but it’ll take a while to make the cushions.

.:.

While it makes sense that our building has a 13th floor, it’s going to take away a little of my happiness. It always made me laugh a little that people superstitious enough to be upset by a 13th floor would also be dumb enough to not figure out what the 14th floor really was.

If I lived at Cityplace, where there are no 4th, 13th, 14th, 24th or 34th floors, I’d probably laugh myself silly every day.

.:.

There are two types of people in this world: those who find singing animatronic puppets funny and/or charming (past the age of six, anyway) and those who find them a devilish scourge upon the earth. You can probably guess where I stand on the issue. Visits to my local grocery store checkout have become trying as there are whole racks of these things just waiting to tinnily excrete “When I’m 64” or “Roll Out The Barrel” when some kid jostles them.

.:.

Something that got lost in yesterday’s missing post that I feel is worth repeating: last Friday, June 1st, was 10 years to the day since I moved to Toronto. I clearly remember getting off the plane, taking a cab to my apartment at Yonge & Sheppard, being met there by my friend & roommate CBJ and immediately heading downtown to meet friends for brunch at the Movenpick on York Street (which is now a Keg). That seems like…well, 1/3 of my life ago.

[tags]patio furniture, unlucky numbers, movenpick, the keg[/tags]

Foiled

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At the last minute I had to cancel our plans to meet up with friends in Niagara On The Lake this weekend. This cold just isn’t going anywhere, and over the course of the day my voice has completely disappeared. I felt ridiculous leaving voicemails for people, sounding like a just-pubescent kid drawing his last breath.

I’ve never before taken a double-dose of neo-citran before going to sleep; I fear tonight it may be necessary.

.:.

Happy birthday, Star Wars. I was one year old when you were released, but I came to love you as I grew up. A little too much, maybe.

.:.

Speaking of my childhood obsessions, Chuck Klosterman writes about a Rush song that, 27 years later, shows how badly the mystique of radio has faded.

.:.

The Globe and Mail harrumphs all over the lolcat meme.

[tags]niagara on the lake, sick, star wars, chuck klosterman, rush, globe and mail, lolcat[/tags]

Clearly my timing is off

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

Just in time for the warm weather coming this week, I have a cold. Scratchy throat, sinus headaches, lethargy…yay.

.:.

We finally watched Borat (imdb | rotten tomatoes) last night. Yeah, it was funny, but we obviously waited too long to see it since I’m pretty sure I already knew every funny bit in the film. Although, simply knowing that you’ll see Ken Davitian naked in full flight does not prepare you for the sight of it.

[tags]cold symptoms, borat, ken davitian[/tags]

Hey look…other stuff is happening besides me moving!

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Found while trying to get control of the RSS tide:

  • BlogTO reviews The Ghosts Of Abu Ghraib. With all the packing and such I forgot to write the film when we saw it at Hot Docs a week ago.  It was an excellent documentary; director Rory Kennedy let the story tell itself by interviewing the Abu Ghraib guards who were convicted for their role in the torture, and gave context by framing the story with the findings of the Milgram experiment. Excellent documentary. Highly recommended.
  • I agree with Esquire’s Angry German’s rant on punctuality. Next to smoking, being late is the fastest way to make me think you’re an inconsiderate jackass. Not occasionally late, mind you; I know things sometimes happen. But there are those people who’re just perpetually late, and those people are asshats.
  • The Quill & Quire’s blog points to a discussion between Lynn Coady and Christy Ann Conlin. Both Nova Scotian writers, they wonder whether it’s easier to write about where you’re from, or to write about a place if you’re “from away.”
  • Kirsten Dunst likes The Arcade Fire and Regina Spektor. ‘Cause I didn’t think she was hot enough already…

[tags]ghosts of abu ghraib, hot docs, milgram experiment, esquire magazine, angry german, punctuality, quill & quire, lynn coady, christy ann conlin, kirsten dunst, arcade fire, regina spektor[/tags]

"This day is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s"

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

If you watched The Office last night that title will make a lot more sense. And if you watched 30 Rock, you might’ve heard Tina Fey yell “I will slice you open like a taun-taun!” And then you might’ve heard me yowl with laughter.

.:.

Another day, another bunch of boxes unpacked. The books are now taken care of, and the kitchen is close to done. Next thing is to set up the TV and stereo before I leave Sunday morning, and get the empty boxes collapsed and taken out. Also have to get to Dove Cleaners; I’ve got a stain on a suit jacket that looks as if I’ve been lactating. Nobody wants that visual.

.:.

Choosing between #1 and #1a is hard. And when you love them both, having to choose at all sucks. Sorry that’s cryptic, but it concerns stuff I don’t usually talk about here. It was gut-wrenching, but I guess there are worse problems than having to choose between the two best options I’ve ever had.

[tags]moving, spire condominium[/tags]

C'est Irish PJ

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After dinner at the BeerBistro we swung by the condo with CBGB and MS, just to let them see it for the first time. It looks nice at night.

GB and I had met up before dinner, first at the Irish Embassy (too full), then at the BeerBistro bar (also too full) before settling on P.J. O’Brien. It was our first time there, and could become another nice addition to the local selection (along with the IR itself, and C’est What of course).

Tomorrow the painting, etc. starts. I cannot properly convey my excitement.

.:.

My I Hate Your Kids t-shirt arrived in the mail today. Let the angry glares begin.

Next treat expected in the mail: my blog cards.

[tags]irish embassy, pj obrien, cest what, i hate your kids, gaping void, blog card[/tags]

The conscientious objector

Dan DickinsonLeave a comment

Attention, everybody who keeps sending me Facebook invitations: I will not do it. I don’t want to join the club. I didn’t like the club when it was called Myspace or even Friendster, and I don’t like it any better now just because they’ve fixed the style sheet. I sure as shit don’t want to “catch up” with 99% of the people I went to high school with, and I don’t want to take part in the online clique-building. If you want to keep a blog or post your pictures, please use a site that doesn’t require membership in a cult just to view it. I decline. I forestall. I abstain.

Thank you.

.:.

This blog post by Matt Brown sounds almost exactly what was going through my mind the first time I visited Vancouver. I left miserable weather (and a fairly unhappy life) in Toronto to visit Vancouver on business. As I flew there I read The Water In Between by Kevin Patterson, a book about a guy who leaves his shitty life behind, moves to BC, buys a boat and just starts sailing. When I got to Vancouver it was sunny and warm, and I sat in my hotel room overlooking English Bay, wishing I had Kevin Patterson’s guts. I had my phone in my hand, ready to make my resignation phone call.

Of course, I didn’t. I returned to Toronto a few days later, and stuck it out there, even though I pretty much had a job offer in Vancouver. In the end, of course, my life turned out pretty well indeed. I don’t for a second regret staying here in Toronto, but I can absolutely understand what Matt’s feeling.

I guess I’ll just keep living Vancariously through Stanzi.

.:.

It’s my mom’s birthday. I’d point you to her blog to leave a congratulatory comment, but she doesn’t roll like that. Given the current trend she’ll no doubt be on Facebook soon though, so maybe y’all can say bonne fete next year.

[tags]facebook yawn, vancouver, english bay[/tags]