my perverse delight

Absolute delight. Not really all that perverse, but certainly not the norm... I watch a man paint and listen to his voice while he talks me to near-sleep. Total relaxation and mental bliss; completely mellow mental mood. Absolute delight.

The most relaxing thing I can think of doing is watching a cheap old PBS show called 'The Joy of Painting'. I've been a big fan for at least 15 years, when I first started watching it on the local PBS channel piped in from Detroit. It features Bob Ross, who did the show for years before he died. The man could do a fantastic painting in less than 30 minutes.

Even if I didn't find him completely relaxing, I'd still find it interesting just to watch the guy work. A blank canvas to a beautiful landscape in under 30 minutes with nothing but his imagination to guide him. Holy malolloy. But the best thing is that he's showing you exactly how to do it yourself. I know that when I get older, I'm going to sit and learn to paint in his method. He's very convincing that anyone can do it.

Millions of people around the world have watched Bob Ross paint on PBS or other TV stations. The guy is quite popular and there are many art schools done in his style, trained in his methodology. I personally think he was a genius. If nothing else, he's one of my favourite people. If I had the chance, he and Trudeau would be two people I would go back in time to meet.

The pic below (which amused me) came from here.

Who are you? Why are you so special? I want to know. Tell me.

what do you mean the Butler did it?

Yesterday I decided to read The Da Vinci Code. It turned out to be an okay story, so I was pleasantly surprised. I tend to run shrieking in the other direction when someone tells me 'You must read this book, everyone is raving about it.' I hate following the crowd (I'm not a lemming), I hate being told what to read and I hate doing what everyone else is doing just because it's currently en vogue in pop culture. Yuck. Thus, I had avoided the book like it was diseased. Yesterday, I was overtired, uninspired and lacking anything to do at work, as it had all been cancelled. I sat down in the living room and thought how awful it would to turn on the TV during the day and witness the tripe that's broadcast before anything even remotely brain-worthy comes on after 6pm. It seems one of my roommates had bought a copy and since it was there and I was feeling weak, I submitted and picked it up. I enjoyed it and I'm glad I had the chance to read it before I went to see the movie. That was one big debate in my head that tipped me in favour of reading it. Unlike most situations where I prefer to see the movie before the book, this one seemed different. I have no idea why, but the sense I got in this situation was that I should read the book first. Thus, fate interjected and I did. All in all, a good book, not the best writing style I've ever encountered and the characters lacked depth; but it had me guessing about a lot of things and the final villain remained a mystery to me until the end. I must say, I solved several of the riddles long before they were revealed in the story, so I was quite happy with that fact. Ce n'est pas un imbecile. (I have no idea if that's grammatically correct, but it's more amusing that way). Now, I'm fully prepared to go see the movie. Huzzah!

As a footnote, lemmings don't all follow each other into mass suicide. It's a popular misconception brought on by Walt Disney. And now we know, and knowing is half the battle.

el poopo

When it comes to employment I have an unusually short attention span. My average is one year before I get tired/bored/annoyed etc... with a job. Not the best way to maneuver through life, but I can't help my attention span, it is what it is. On April 1st, I hit the one year mark working for my current employer. I have been quite happy, enjoying the job and thinking that this was one I could stay with for a while. Unfortunately, on April 4th that changed. This time, it had nothing to do with me. The job is technically part-time, as most weeks I work around 20 hours which has been enough to eke by, even when there were work shortages. Due to changes in how I am paid and the way that my reporting is to be done, my pay is effectively being cut down to one third of what I would normally get per month. My monthly intake which used to range from $1200-1800 after taxes (depending on how busy it was) will now range from $400 - $800 a month. Anyone that can add up rent plus food plus car insurance will come to the conclusion that a monthly intake between $400 and $800 isn't going to cut it. Thus, the past two weeks have been spent trying to get this resolved, which after a meeting today didn't happen. So I'm left with few choices: do exactly what I am currently doing and go bankrupt in a month; get a second job in the evening to balance out my income, but lose any hope of doing anything other than work; find another day job that only needs me two or three days a week and work for my current employer the other two days; or, find another job period. I'm mildly annoyed by the whole thing, as the goober I had to talk to was in Ottawa, and I'm not convinced he's aware of how "part-time" my job really is. My current mindset is to find another part time job and do both during the daytime hours. The company I'm with may have something down the road that would be a shame to miss out on, but I can't sit on my hands and wait. We shall see what we shall see.

Qu'est-ce que fuck? [or Red are roses, even in winter's firm grip.]

You seem to have read me wrong. The important fact of me is that I care about the soul of the other; your soul. A silhouette of you is imprinted on my heart and I only wish that it was likewise for you. Truly, I would do anything at all if I thought it would make you smile, if it would cause you joy. The fact that I am so quiet doesn't mean I have nothing to say, but that I like to hear what you are saying. I don't find silence awkward, I find it gives me a moment to think about the words you've spoken and to watch and observe the wonderful being that is you. Any event, as trivial as whispered poetry or as tumultuous as sexual climax, is only a small spark in the fire that burns within me. And I so much want it to burn for you and you alone. But you wave farewell before I even get to ask how your day was. You smile and leave, knowing little or nothing about me. In my dreams, you come back. If only you would come back, give me a chance, accept what I offer. Promises are for children and young lovers; I am neither. All I ever offered was to try, to see what would happen. The chance to feel and explore beyond the first hello and the last goodbye. I know I ask too much, I know I ask the seemingly impossible, but I whisper into the wind anyway, that perchance you unsteel your heart and once again I can look into your smiling eyes and say hello. Love is worth a whisper, love is worth a chance, love is worth a dream.

an ode to another year

Pheh. No ode really, just thoughts as another year clicks over on my internal chronometer.

As always, birthday hasn't been a big thing for me. With the crazy things I do, I'm always happy to live through another day let alone another year. Being that age isn't really relevant to me, and that I tend to live for the moment, celebrating the day I dropped out of a womb is just a reason to spend time with family or friends.

This year's festivities have been memorable, to say the least... after the dinner I go to at my uncle's tomorrow evening, that will be 8 straight evenings out with friends or family. And I have two more this week before I travel back to CB for the long weekend, where I have plans to visit more friends... talk about celebrating one's ass off.

Memorable moments abound from today and yesterday. A trip to Ponderosa with surprises galore and the misfit servers of Alcatrez. A call from the parental units and the traditional song from mom. Dinner at Greek Village, a renovated restaurant open for two days, that after experiencing it firsthand needs an enema of epic proportions. And that little fuzzy thing and its nut. Gotta love the nuts.

Life is good.