Antipathy

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I’m having trouble finding motivation. Work is depressing right now; it’s one roadblock after another, and I’m not famous for my patience. I really believe in what I’m doing, and — as haughty/martyrish as this sounds — I feel like I’m one of the few people who’s more concerned with making the customer’s life better than with playing politics or just punching the clock. I guess everything happens slowly in huge traditional risk-averse companies, and being aware of the fact doesn’t make it any less frustrating. I’m trying to find a way around it, but it feels like every day I go to work, scramble to keep up with all the things coming at me, and when I go home I haven’t made a difference. I keep pushing, and there are good people around me pushing too, but feeling outnumbered at work every day is a hard way to live life.

.:.

Life at home isn’t really a respite these days either. I’m on autopilot right now; between trying to run 5 times a week (2-3 miles at a go) and spending 3 hours a night working on this term paper, I feel like I’m on a schedule from the minute I get home. I see my wife for the few minutes that I eat dinner and when we crawl into bed. Good thing this paper’s due in two weeks; after that we can settle into the happy insanity of the film festival. It’s some of the best quality time I get to spend with her all year, ’cause for those 10 days we’re a) on exactly the same schedule, and b) spending hours in line with nothing to do but talk. I think I look forward to that as much as the films. There’s an inspirational quote in there somewhere: “Lineups are better when you love the person you’re standing next to.” Awwwwwwwwwwww.

[tags]motivation[/tags]

Ode to Whitby

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The Scotsman and his fiancé made a return visit to Toronto yesterday, and I met up with them for dinner and a few drinks. I took them to Smokeless Joe’s for a bite to eat and a few pints. Around 7:45 we realized they weren’t going to make the 8:13 train to Whitby (where they were staying) especially since it would’ve meant someone chugging their Delirium Tremens so they decided to catch the next one at 9:13 and have another drink while we waited. It turns out I may have underestimated the amount of time it takes to get from Smokeless Joe’s to Union Station, ’cause we arrived a few minutes too late. Anyway, there was nothing left to do but have another drink, so we scooted around the corner to the Irish Embassy and had a quick quaff (during which I learned that The Scotsman is prone to being labelled “a hottie” by teenage girls) before hauling ass back down to the train station.

This time we made it with ten minutes to spare, and I accompanied them up to the GO platform (as I’d never seen it before). It was crowded with drunken 905ers anxious to get back to Whitby (and environs), some wearing cowboy hats & sombreros, others drinking Malibu rum straight from the bottle, and still others complimenting The Scotsman’s sporty new man bag and asking how much he’d paid for it. I feel safe in saying that any urge I might’ve once had to visit Whitby has now been quashed.

It was a fun few hours, and I can see from my IM client that they’re made it back home. Now I’m trying to figure out how we can squeeze in a visit to New York next year. Perhaps there’s a museum of occupation there that The Scotsman’s missus could take us to; I hear it’s her speciality.

.:.

Today’s been nice so far…great weather, happily snoozing cats (both the vomiting and the limping have subsided for now), some relaxation before a) Nellie gets home, and b) I have to get back to my term paper.

[tags]scotsman, whitby, go train, malibu rum, man bags[/tags]

Why can't they ever vomit on, say, the kitchen floor?

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Here I was, having a good weekend, and suddenly whammo…cat problems. Last night, around 1:00, one of the cats pukes all over my laptop bag. Seriously, it’s like he aims for personal items. Trying to clean everything out of the bag and wash it off while still half asleep was buckets of fun. Then this morning I woke up to find the other cat limping; I guess he did something to his foot/leg overnight. Probably beat the crap out of his brother a little too emphatically. I’ll watch it for a day or so and take him to the vet if it doesn’t get better.

.:.

Today’s idiots: Dr. Ted Baehr, who claims Talladega Nights makes fun of Jesus [via Yes But No But Yes], and the lady who thinks the tree in her backyard is gurgling out “God’s water”.

.:.

Another great picture from Sam at Daily Dose of Imagery. You can actually see our building under construction a few blocks to the southwest.

[tags]cats, vomit, injured paw, ted baehr, talladega nights, god’s water, daily dose of imagery, moss park[/tags]

Skin…circles…stain.

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A few minutes ago I dropped off my dry cleaning. As I leaned on the counter to write my name & phone number on the receipt, the old lady who works there began rubbing the back of my hand. Not in a flirty way (and thank god) but like she was curious. When I gave her a “what the f**k, lady?” look she said, “Skin…circles…stain.” Actually, she said more than that, but her English is pretty broken and that’s all I really heard. At first I thought she was talking about stains on the shirts I was dropping off, but when she repeated her words I figured out that she was talking about the freckles on the back of my hand. At least, that’s the conclusion I leapt to. Anyway, I just gave her a little confused smile and wandered off.

A few minutes earlier some guy riding his bike down the sidewalk on Bloor Street kind of ran into me. Not hard, mind you, but when I came around the corner under some boarding he couldn’t stop in time, and he couldn’t swerve, so I ended up just grabbing his bike and stopping it as he ran into my leg. He apologized and asked if I was ok…which surprised me. I’d already just started walking away; it just seemed like any other pedestrian collision. I guess maybe he was nervous ’cause he was riding his bike on a sidewalk and knew he was in the wrong, or maybe he thought I looked pissed (which I’m told I do when I’m lost in thought), but I didn’t really even notice.

.:.

Nellie’s getting ready to go camping for the weekend. Not that I don’t enjoy her company, but I looooooove having the place to myself sometimes. To get a running start into the weekend I’ve taken today off. I should be able to get lots of work done too, so long as a second visit from The Scotsman and his fiancé (not wife; thanks TimmyD) doesn’t put me out of commission for too much of Sunday.

[tags]freckles, bike riding on sidewalks, alone time[/tags]

Head down

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From now ’til the 28th of this month I shall be very busy indeed, as I have to write a 40-page paper for the course I’m doing now. The topic is Intellectual Property vs. Public Health. This is not something that will just flow from my fingertips. Fortunately I’m rarely at a loss for (typed) words.

The film festival booklets are released the day after I submit the paper, so I can concentrate on that for an hour or so before I have to get back to the rest of my course work. I should wrap that up the day before the festival actually starts; once it’s over I’m off to the course intensive for a week. I then have thirteen luxurious days to relax (unless the gods are against me and I have to start my next course right away) before we jet off to the Rockies.

So yeah. See you in October.

[tags]intellectual property, public health, toronto international film festival, rockies[/tags]

"You call it an electrified anal prod, I say tomato."

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Today I watched Little Dieter Needs To Fly (imdb | rotten tomatoes), a Werner Herzog documentary about Dieter Dengler, a German man who moved to America because he wanted to be a pilot, eventually winding up a prisoner of war after being shot down over Vietnam. It was totally engrossing and captivating, unbelievable in parts. I highly recommend it.

In a funny little coincidence, not an hour after I finished watching the documentary I read that Werner Herzog will be showing a movie at this year’s film festival…a retelling of Dieter Dengler’s story. I’ll be doing my damndest to see that.

Which reminds me…a while back I also watched Incident At Loch Ness (imdb | rotten tomatoes), another Herzog [ahem] documentary. It’s pretty entertaining.

.:.

TOist takes on the ugly yellow obelisk at the corner of Yonge & Bloor. I would have suggested that abandoned storefront on Bloor between Spadina and Bathurst next, but it seems to have found someone to love it again.

.:.

The US Government is moving to protect their interrogators from prosecution even if they’re found guilty of “humiliating or degrading wartime prisoners.” This isn’t surprising, given the kind of things I read about in this Esquire article or how you see Alberto Gonzales act in this Daily Show clip.

.:.

If this is true — or even close to true — then people are even dumber than I thought: 30 percent of them can’t remember what year the September 11 terrorist attacks took place.

[tags]little dieter needs to fly, werner herzog, rescue dawn, hudson bay obelisk, interrogation, prisoner abuse[/tags]

Telephone poles, excetera

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It seems Aliant, phone provider for Atlantic Canada, has found a way to get another $2 million out of Rogers using just a comma. Those maritimers are sneaky. [via Rocketboom]

.:.

Yourdictionary.com has published their list of the 100 most mispronounced English words. I’m guilty a few of these; I guess I have a ways to go with my grammar. At least I don’t say nucular. [via Yes But No But Yes]
[tags]aliant, rogers, mispronounced words[/tags]