There might be a post here, later on. But right now, it's just dead air.
Why? Well, I had time scheduled for today to write this wicked-awesome post about either Rah Rah or Hey Ocean!. But then a birthday party last night went a little crazy, and I was stuck being the responsible person.
I hate being the responsible person.
And now I'm way too tired, while paradoxically wound up like a spring, to write any sort of music post. And so, you're going to have to get a place holder.
Does anyone mind if I do a "Music Monday" on tuesday? Also, is there a preference between Rah Rah or Hey Ocean!
Dolphins with Prostate Cancer...
My friend Manga had a bake sale today, and so I grabbed a bus and went all the way down to Cadboro Bay to buy some of her cookies and support prostate cancer research.
Only 75% of the cookies I ate were delicious. See, I had a great chocolate cookie, and then I had half a super sweet cookie that caused my mouth to send an urgent message to my brain, that went something like this:
Dude. You know you're diabetic, right? This shit is way too sweet.
After having tea and chatting for a bit with Manga (who was wearing the world's coolest 1960's style apron), I was given a challenge - create a children's book on the subject of dolphins with prostate cancer, and why all dolphins need to drink more milk.
This is quite the challenge. But I think I'm up to it. Because I think it's a story that needs to be told. There are far too many prostate cancer-related deaths among dolphinkind. I mean, it's the second largest killer among dolphins, beaten only by super-delicious tuna nets.
I can't figure out a way to segue out of that. So I'm just gonna go with the classic "Aaaannnnnnyways....."
Later, I walked all the way home from Cadboro Bay. I live near Mayfair mall. For those who don't know much about Victoria geography... it's about an hour and a half walk, if you're a fast walker like me.
To put it in musical terms, it was the entire length of the Dodo's album Visiter, along with the entirety of the Beatles' Abbey Road and a good chunk of the Mountain Goats' Sunset Tree. And yes, I measure time in album lengths. Because I'm just that much of a nerd.
It's cold as balls in Victoria right now, but I have to say, even in the last days of November, it's still an amazingly beautiful city to stroll through. I highly recommend everyone go out there and just walk - it'll remind you just how awesome this city of ours is.
Only 75% of the cookies I ate were delicious. See, I had a great chocolate cookie, and then I had half a super sweet cookie that caused my mouth to send an urgent message to my brain, that went something like this:
Dude. You know you're diabetic, right? This shit is way too sweet.
After having tea and chatting for a bit with Manga (who was wearing the world's coolest 1960's style apron), I was given a challenge - create a children's book on the subject of dolphins with prostate cancer, and why all dolphins need to drink more milk.
This is quite the challenge. But I think I'm up to it. Because I think it's a story that needs to be told. There are far too many prostate cancer-related deaths among dolphinkind. I mean, it's the second largest killer among dolphins, beaten only by super-delicious tuna nets.
I can't figure out a way to segue out of that. So I'm just gonna go with the classic "Aaaannnnnnyways....."
Later, I walked all the way home from Cadboro Bay. I live near Mayfair mall. For those who don't know much about Victoria geography... it's about an hour and a half walk, if you're a fast walker like me.
To put it in musical terms, it was the entire length of the Dodo's album Visiter, along with the entirety of the Beatles' Abbey Road and a good chunk of the Mountain Goats' Sunset Tree. And yes, I measure time in album lengths. Because I'm just that much of a nerd.
It's cold as balls in Victoria right now, but I have to say, even in the last days of November, it's still an amazingly beautiful city to stroll through. I highly recommend everyone go out there and just walk - it'll remind you just how awesome this city of ours is.
Ten Best Bands?
Went out and did a bit too much drinking after the Sharks vs. Canucks game (holy crap was it a blowout. Unfortunately, it blew in the wrong way. 6-1 Canucks. Gah). It was, all in all, an awesome night, involving yours truly getting a free San Jose Sharks jersey. However, at ten am in the morning, yours truly is a bit too hungover to fully write an engaging post.
Whoops.
Anyways. The Times Colonist (Victoria's newspaper) went and put together a list of the city's ten best bands. It's a great list, with live videos of each band. I paraphrase for posterity:
Whoops.
Anyways. The Times Colonist (Victoria's newspaper) went and put together a list of the city's ten best bands. It's a great list, with live videos of each band. I paraphrase for posterity:
- Wolf Eyes
- Cobblestone Jazz
- This Old Town
- Vince Vacarro
- Acres of Lions
- Maurice
- Jets Overhead
- Aidan Knight
- Current Swell
- Jon and Roy
Addiction:
There is an epidemic in this city. Over the past few years, addiction has spread throughout the street, turning normal people into crazed junkies, always hungry but never filled.
It has taken over the lives of ordinary people - students, tourists, and young professionals - and the not so ordinary - hipsters, musicians, and artists.
And this outbreak of addiction is one that is perfectly legal. Some of the addicts are even cops!
I am speaking, of course, about Victoria's noodle addiction.
I'm a little embarrassed about it, because I've never really seen myself as the type to be an addict. But I am one of the growing number of Victorians who is a noodle junkie. I realized it last night:
I found myself inside the Noodle Box, listening to strange european electronic music while waiting in line, desperately anxious to get to the cashier.
"I... need my noodles, man! Gimme my noodles!" I said to the cashier, grabbing her collar with sweaty hands.
She smiled mirthlessly at me, in the manner of pushers the world over, and said, "Do you want some of the local, west coast shit, or do you want the imported asian stuff? And how hot do you want it, man? Because we do all kinds."
"Hot. Extra hot," I said, my skin tingling with anticipatory noodle-bliss. "Black bean. Hokkein noodles. Tofu."
I pressed my money in her hand, and she just smiled evilly. "Price went up. Eleven don't cut it no more."
"What!? But, this is all I have!"
"Thirteen, or no noodles for you."
"But... but... I'm sick." I whimpered.
I dug in my pocket and pulled out the last of my laundry money, wondering how long I could go before I'd have to start re-wearing my socks. "This is... this is all I got."
She counted it twice. "Great. It'll be a half hour wait."
"Half an hour!? But, I need my noodles now!"
"Well, you're gonna have to wait."
"You're killing me. I'm, like, dying, man!"
"Grab a seat."
And so I found myself sitting on a chair, writhing with "The Noodle Sweats". Next to me was a hipster in emo-glasses and a Black Keys t-shirt curled up in a foetal position, mumbling "Cambodian Jungle Curry" over and over again.
I realized I had hit rock bottom. I rushed to a phone book, only to find that there is no twelve-step noodle addiction program. In fact, when I called one of addicts anonymous hotlines, the counsellor flat-out told me that "you can never have too many noodles" and then hung up.
What has become of Victoria?
What will become of me?
It has taken over the lives of ordinary people - students, tourists, and young professionals - and the not so ordinary - hipsters, musicians, and artists.
And this outbreak of addiction is one that is perfectly legal. Some of the addicts are even cops!
I am speaking, of course, about Victoria's noodle addiction.
I'm a little embarrassed about it, because I've never really seen myself as the type to be an addict. But I am one of the growing number of Victorians who is a noodle junkie. I realized it last night:
I found myself inside the Noodle Box, listening to strange european electronic music while waiting in line, desperately anxious to get to the cashier.
"I... need my noodles, man! Gimme my noodles!" I said to the cashier, grabbing her collar with sweaty hands.
She smiled mirthlessly at me, in the manner of pushers the world over, and said, "Do you want some of the local, west coast shit, or do you want the imported asian stuff? And how hot do you want it, man? Because we do all kinds."
"Hot. Extra hot," I said, my skin tingling with anticipatory noodle-bliss. "Black bean. Hokkein noodles. Tofu."
I pressed my money in her hand, and she just smiled evilly. "Price went up. Eleven don't cut it no more."
"What!? But, this is all I have!"
"Thirteen, or no noodles for you."
"But... but... I'm sick." I whimpered.
I dug in my pocket and pulled out the last of my laundry money, wondering how long I could go before I'd have to start re-wearing my socks. "This is... this is all I got."
She counted it twice. "Great. It'll be a half hour wait."
"Half an hour!? But, I need my noodles now!"
"Well, you're gonna have to wait."
"You're killing me. I'm, like, dying, man!"
"Grab a seat."
And so I found myself sitting on a chair, writhing with "The Noodle Sweats". Next to me was a hipster in emo-glasses and a Black Keys t-shirt curled up in a foetal position, mumbling "Cambodian Jungle Curry" over and over again.
I realized I had hit rock bottom. I rushed to a phone book, only to find that there is no twelve-step noodle addiction program. In fact, when I called one of addicts anonymous hotlines, the counsellor flat-out told me that "you can never have too many noodles" and then hung up.
What has become of Victoria?
What will become of me?
Movember Update, as well as a work update... plus... the noodle box.
A few fun facts, to keep y'all informed:
1) I caved in and shaved off my movember beard. It had to be done - I had a job interview and a date, and didn't want to look like a homeless person. I actually looked sort of like a red-headed amish guy, as there was absolutely no moustache. Don't worry, I have photos. And yes, I will be making my donation to the Canadian Cancer Society to pay my reparations.
2) I am no longer unemployed. This is a very good thing; after all, it means I can go ahead with phase 1 of the blog renewal project! Super stoked on that.
3) Did I mention that there is a brand new Noodle Box opening across the street from my new job? Did I mention that, upon finding this out, I actually jumped about three feet in the air and laughed with pure joy?
That is all.
1) I caved in and shaved off my movember beard. It had to be done - I had a job interview and a date, and didn't want to look like a homeless person. I actually looked sort of like a red-headed amish guy, as there was absolutely no moustache. Don't worry, I have photos. And yes, I will be making my donation to the Canadian Cancer Society to pay my reparations.
2) I am no longer unemployed. This is a very good thing; after all, it means I can go ahead with phase 1 of the blog renewal project! Super stoked on that.
3) Did I mention that there is a brand new Noodle Box opening across the street from my new job? Did I mention that, upon finding this out, I actually jumped about three feet in the air and laughed with pure joy?
That is all.
Weekly Haiku #35: poetry, continued
frozen winter shroud
draped over summer's last gasp
spring blooms from the bones
409 hours!?
"I am not really much of a video game person."
I say this fairly often, probably because I look like the type of person that should be a video game person. And, well, I've recently come to the conclusion that maybe all this time I've been lying to myself.
I would say "hey, I only play three games - Civilization, Halo, and X-Com. I'm obviously not a video gamer."
And I would believe it.
A few days ago, I was writing a blog post when I accidentally opened up my Steam account. This account apparently tells you how many total hours you have spent playing games. And I was stunned to see this:
Yyup. Four hundred and nine hours. And this is a game I've owned a little over a year. To put it another way, I've spent seventeen days playing this game.
And x-com is my least-played game out of those three I listed. I seriously dread to see how many hours I've spent playing the various halo or civilization games.
I say this fairly often, probably because I look like the type of person that should be a video game person. And, well, I've recently come to the conclusion that maybe all this time I've been lying to myself.
I would say "hey, I only play three games - Civilization, Halo, and X-Com. I'm obviously not a video gamer."
And I would believe it.
A few days ago, I was writing a blog post when I accidentally opened up my Steam account. This account apparently tells you how many total hours you have spent playing games. And I was stunned to see this:
Yyup. Four hundred and nine hours. And this is a game I've owned a little over a year. To put it another way, I've spent seventeen days playing this game.
And x-com is my least-played game out of those three I listed. I seriously dread to see how many hours I've spent playing the various halo or civilization games.
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