fall drag

It is nearly the end of September and, as usual, although I am writing the dates, I am no where near aware of the concept that Thanksgiving is nearly upon me. And, really, all that Thanksgiving means is that I have to start Christmas shopping.

But before Thanksgiving, is tomorrow. September 28 is SigOther's and my anniversary [yay, us!]. It's not a big year - the first, second or any multiple of five - so any revelry has been relegated to the weekend. Yes, we're getting old and therefore cranky if we stay up too late past our bedtime on a worknight.

By the weekend, it will be October. After that, it's all turkey dinners and perma-dusk for the rest of the year. Okay, okay, I've lived in true perma-dusk and, no, we don't actually have that here but, by the time I drive to work in the pre-dawn and home in the fringes of sunset, it's not much different.

Realistically, the shorter days are about the only means of telling the seasons in the city, as snow is practically just a rumour and, while the leaves turn all sorts of gorgeous colours and drop, the temperature doesn't really drop at the same rate.

But, despite what I may think, I'm in fall. I get to see more of the moon, my dog is happier with the [slightly] cooler weather and before long, instead of wondering at the novelty of writing months that end in 'er', I'll get to realise the oddity of writing 2006.

of Tony and Larry

We began last night, watching CNN. I am, at the moment, a little adverse to watching CNN but sometimes one has no choice. There is CTVNewsNet, but I honestly forget about it most of the time.

But I digress. We watched CNN, briefly, while CNN watched an airplane meander around the skies of Los Angeles for hours on end.

And that's all CNN did. They talked to various and sundry people, some of whom knew more about airplanes than others, and they filled time with pointless prattle.

But, when Larry King asked an 'airplane expert' if he thought the people on the flight would be watching CNN, I risked bursting SigOther's eardrums by shrieking 'change the channel!!!'. I mean, really. I could almost hear the sheer glee in Larry's voice as he contemplated the little circuitous logic of 'I'm on CNN talking about the airplane, and they're on the airplane, watching me talk about them, being on the airplane, while they're on the airplane and I'm talking about it...'.

So, we moved to our local news. At 6pm, exactly, Tony Parsons noted the existence of the circling aircraft and it's defunct front wheel, and promptly moved on. We were informed, by Tony, that we would return to the plane in question when it was about to attempt a landing. And then we were treated to news other than that of the chronically aloft airplane. When the plane landed, we saw it. We said 'yay!'. Then, we went back to other news.

Not to belittle the stress that the pilot, crew and passengers were going through, but watching an airplane fly lazily around for prolonged periods of time is just plain boring. And it's way worse when random news anchors are trying, desperately, to say interesting things while watching said airplane. There was absolutely NO need to stalk this airplane while it was in the air.

The pilot and, I'm assuming, co-pilot did a kickass job landing that plane, everyone on the ground looked incredibly organised, and I'm sure the crew were commendable for keeping it together and keeping the passengers informed. And I hope all the passengers got through it without too much wear on their tickers. But if, god forbid, I'm ever in a plane that's circling because of some stupid wheel malfunction, the airplanes and helicopters that are flying around shooting footage of me will be causing me far more stress than the messed up wheel.

And I, for one, will not be watching it unfold ever-so slowly on any in-flight/satellite feed news channels.

two thoughts

1. finally got the post from last night published, after an evening of Blogger oddities.

2. having reread my responses to the meme I was tagged with, it appears as though I may make a good hermit. I'll have to add that to my list of things to do.

nice to meet you, too

I've been contemplating handshakes sporadically over the last little while. Plain old, introductory handshakes.

I should probably state up front that I'm a bit of a hand snob. On the one hand [ooo, sorry. no pun intended], mine aren't always in the best state, what with having to wash them a million times a day. I also find myself quite able to ignore my cuticles for weeks on end. On the other hand, nice hands are, well, just nice. They don't have to be perfect or unscathed - that just suggests a profound lack of use - but shape, skin, movement and interest all play into my personal biases.

And my personal biases also include the grip of a handshake.

In the last little while, I've encountered several incredibly limp handshakes. I'm not sure if these people consider me excessively wimpy or icky, if they are, themselves, excessively wimpy or icky or simply don't 'do' handshakes. [it's been suggested that there may be cultural differences in acceptable handshake pressure, but that hasn't corresponded well with experience.] If one is going so far as to be part of the handshake, should it not be a committed effort? On the far opposite end of the spectrum are, of course, the death grip handshakes. Those, thankfully, seem to have eased up around here. Everyone I meet, lately, has either a firm, pleasant handshake or an obligatory half-grasp that suggests they'd really rather be somewhere else.

A person could start to take it personally.

I suppose a handshake could be considered a terribly personal interaction - far more intrusive than a smile, an inclination of the head or a brief bow. And, I suppose, it would be rather awkward to refuse a handshake [though, the last couple of less-than-firm handshakes I've been party to were initiated by the other persons]. Perhaps the expectation of a handshake-style greeting has brought people to partake in it when they are far more comfortable with a nod.

I can certainly see the merit in a namaste and find it a very respectful way to acknowledge someone.

But, it's a damn poor way to assess their hands.

tagged

As requested by Joseph K, here are my responses to the following.

Ten Years Ago - Sept 1995:
Just engaged and beginning my last year of university in Edmonton while working casual hours as a phlebotomist. Living, alone, just off campus in a beetle ridden basement suite. SigOther, having secured his position with a diamond, left to work engineer-voodoo in the gold mines up north.
Listening to: U2, 54-40, Blue Rodeo, Queen, R.E.M., Alanis Morissette, mixed tapes of top 40 crap.

Five Years Ago - Sept 2000:
Just moved into recently purchased townhouse, and out of spider ridden basement suite (different basement from previously mentioned beetle ridden suite). Setting up for my fourth career move. Due to rotating work shifts, finished actively volunteering with BC Pets and Friends and Options for Sexual Health. Began choir. Celebrated fourth anniversary ... um ... probably by going out to dinner.
Listening to: U2, Chantal Kreviazuk, Barenaked Ladies, Annie Lennox, Colin James, Great Big Sea, top 40 crap.

One Year Ago - Sept 2004:
Getting used to having entire house back, after SigOther's cousin was living with us while finding jobs and an apartment. Arranging seventh career move. Began, under the direction of a physiotherapist, battling a random bout of tendonitis in both ankles. Renewed my involvement with Options for Sexual Health. Unbeknownst to me at the time, answered my last radio poll before turning 30 and thereby leaving the demographic of interest. Celebrated eighth anniversary by taking the day off and being tourists in Vancouver.
Listening to: U2, Hawksley Workman, Molly Johnson, Denzal Sinclaire, Travis, waffling between top 40, rock and best-of-the-80's-90's-and-now.

Yesterday - Sept 16, 2005:
Got up early to see my parents off as they ended their vacation with a long drive from here to there. Worked, and put in one hour overtime. Lost the battery cover for the on-call pager. Had Malaysian food for lunch, instead of opting into the available yoga class. Sat, slightly bleary-eyed, in front of the computer drafting this post.
Listening to: U2 (uh...were you expecting something else?), Dave Matthews Band, traffic and weather reports.

Five Songs I Know all the Words to: Okay.
I sing in choir. So, change the title to....
Five Songs by Canadian Artists that I Know all the Words to and Haven't Sung in Choir:
1. Surrounded (Chantal Kreviazuk) 2. Tofu & Greens (Denzal Sinclaire) 3. Smoke, Baby (Hawksley Workman) 4. The End (The Philosopher Kings) 5. Make It Go Away (Holly Cole)

Five Snacks:
1. Pringles light (mmm...chips) 2. Chocolate (preferably expensive and unadulterated) 3. Timbits (appear with disturbing frequency at work) 4. cereal ('cuz it's there....) 5. honey roasted almonds (in a bowl on my kitchen counter)

Five Things I'd do with $100million:
1. pit financial institutions against each other until someone comes up with the best investment plan so that I'll be able to easily accomplish the remaining four items for the rest of my life (sadly, this is SigOther's influence. this would not have been my answer 10 years ago)
2. travel. everywhere. in style. (not "in style" for those places where backpacking is some sort of requirement - but those would be short trips)
3. take all the artsy classes that I never saw reason had time to take, including, but not limited to: philosophy, music, anthropology and religious studies. And lots of languages.
4. make a series of donations to various, carefully chosen, organisations with the provision that they are not allowed to hit me up for any more money later. I will donate more later, but they can't phone me first.
5. get my dog and cat a yard (yes, fenced, of course - before anyone else says it)

Five Places I'd Run Away to:
(caveat: having never been to any of them)
1. Great Britain - somewhere moor-y preferably in Ireland or Scotland 2. Spain - somewhere coastal 3. New Zealand - middling sized town 4. Japan - country side 5. Denmark (okay, I've been there, but I'd go back) - Copenhagen

Five Things I'd Never Wear:
(god help me if anyone actually has a photo of me in any of the following and I have simply blanked it out)
1. a tiara 2. dyed-to-match shoes 3. sequins 4. yellow 5. ...
uh...I guess anything else has an outside chance.

Five Favourite (ed. current) TV Shows:
1. House 2. The Daily Show 3. What Not to Wear 4. Good Eats 5. a tie: Neat & MythBusters

Five Greatest Joys:
1. family (yes, you made me say type it) 2. randomly singing when no one's around 3. cat napping with my cat and/or dog 4. being in the middle of nowhere, even if it's in the middle of the city 5. noticing some new little thing, and keeping it to myself

Five Favourite Toys:
1. camera 2. Palm 3. computer 4. pencil 5. piano

Five People to Tag:
your turn to fill this out!
1. RainyPete 2. Wenda 3. MarloGirl (are you still stopping by?) 4. Bob (first task for the new blog!). 5. ....yeah. I'll fill this one in later.

That's it. All true, as I remember it and likely more that I don't/choose not to remember.

admission is the first step

Our day began such that I was unable to have a cup of coffee.

I had most of a cup of my favourite tea before taking the cat the vet's for her bi-monthly nail trim, so I was (technically) competent to function until early afternoon. Prior to my tea wearing off, we were to make our way out to a corporate picnic/day at the park for SigOther's work. Last year, there was so much food and pop left that everyone felt bad and took some home. Surely, it would be the same this year. I would, most certainly, have no need to pick up a coffee on the way out.

Or not.

Having learned their lesson last year, organisers cut down on the amount of food. Apparently, having learned their lesson from not attending last year, a small army of people showed up. By the time SigOther and I arrived, fashionably late, there were a few small bags of chips and a sketchy assortment of left over pop - the kinds no one really likes to drink, or at least publicly admits to drinking.

Normally, I don't drink much pop at all. If I do, it's almost always ginger ale or root beer. And only under great strain do I ever drink the sickly syrupy concoction of Mountain Dew.

A few minutes after arriving, SigOther cautiously wandered over to me with two cans of pop and, from a distance, told me that, while there wasn't much, he had found one for me. He stuck out his arm and handed me a Mountain Dew. Ick. But, being at a corporate function, I supposed I really should try and be pleasant and congenial and if it took a ghastly beverage to do it, then I'd just have to suck it up.

After opening the can and grimacing through my first swig, I noted a small caption near the mouth. It was bright and shiny and in capitals, like the manufacturers wanted me to read it. So, I did: CAFFEINE FREE!

Being at a corporate function, and wanting to be pleasant and congenial, I smiled and showed SigOther the neat little writing on the can.

He left and went to help fill water balloons.

Fortunately, what this Mountain Dew lacked in caffeine, it made up for in sugar and that, at least, carried me through the end of the picnic, down the long winding road, through the mall parking lot and to my very late, very first cup of oh-so-delicious coffee.

Yes, I've taken the first step to admitting my need for coffee. I simply feel no need to go any further.

what with the grass being greener on the other side

Another list of photographs that I didn't get to take (this time, while in Cuba):

- turkey vulture, in flight and/or on the phone posts
- the fishing villages en route from Varadero to Havana
- pelicans skimming the waves, generally in twos or threes
- a clean shot of any old cars in Havana [there was always a lamp post, another car or a person in the way]
- the dark, giant 6" across moth that was plastered to the restaurant door on our last morning [SigOther saw it too and verified that it was real - I am NOT making this up - it was that big!]
- the escape of the hot pink inner tube in the waves, while the girth-endowed owner attempted to chase it down - in, and then out, of the water [okay, so that would have made a better video than photo, but still...]

That's all I can remember not getting. I'm sure there were other images that I missed all together. I'm sure there were many quintessential Cuban things that I missed all together, but this was not a trip of doing. We went, we relaxed and if we go back sometime, we can find other places, people and photos-in-waiting then.

Reconciliation

I'm now back from two weeks of holidays in Cuba. I basked on the beaches, toured the local towns and waters, swam with dolphins and ate myself farther out of a bathing suit body.

I also got to see some spectacular clouds and lightening over the ocean as the fringes of a hurricane named Katrina passed us. The beach grill was closed for 2 days and it was a little too windy to spend much time on the sand.

That is absolutely no perspective for the events that are now transpiring in the southern states. We watched CNN (a channel that now, upon watching for more than 2 minutes at a time, scares me) while we were in Cuba and saw the storm go through Florida, and, yeah, it seemed like a bad bit of weather that was moving out of our way in time to catch our flight home. I was accepting of the, at the time, little red swirl floating around the tip of Florida.

I am, however, completely incapable of fathoming the damage, the loss and, now, the living of people who were caught up in the hurricane after it's second landfall. I can't imagine fathoming it, even were I in it. I can't fathom some of the stories that have come out and statements that have been made (all re-hashed by better bloggers than I, so I won't bore you here).

So, instead, I'll go deal, as I must anyway, with laundry and work and groceries. For once, thank god/whomever, that hasn't changed.