wanna know more about me?

"if you take everything i've accomplished in my entire life and condense it down into one day... it looks decent!"

gc

today was long

quite possibly the longest day of my life. seconds dragged on like hours in a dentist's chair. each minute was a week. hours no longer have definition. waiting. waiting. waiting. if i close my eyes, tuesday will come. can i sleep that long? no. no i can't.

so instead, i'll practice laying on my couch. i never knew i needed practice doing that, but managed to fall off of it over the weekend.

t: good morning
d: (startled - including full body spasm) whmmmm
t: don't roll over, you'll fall off the couch
d: hmmm (in my head, "i know i'll fall off if i roll over, i've got lots of couch experience. how dumb do you think i am" -- i should mention i'm not very coherent or social in the morning)
t: it's 9:45. you should get up.
d: (deep breath) uhmmm hmmm
t: do you want to sleep longer?
d: just five more minutes.
t: ok. but don't fall off the couch. (exits)

a couple of minutes pass... i'm not quite sure exactly...

i roll over, realizing i'm close to the edge so i take the necessary precautions. now facing the room, i try to decide if now is the right time to wake up. then it happens. i hit the floor. but my pillow also landed underneath me so i just decided that was a sign i should go back to sleep. turns out the floor isn't that comfortable so i couldn't even do that.

notice that there's no more dialogue. all of the concern shown prior to falling on the floor was replaced by silence after it actually happened. no "is everything alright in there" or "what happened? are you ok?" just silence. even laughter would have been something. but that didn't come until later. and then more laughter. ahhh, laughter.

i'm funny. and hungry. and am short another pair of socks. that reminds me... i need to do some laundry tonight.

the pressure

i remember on my old blog, t used to complain from time to time that i wasn't posting often enough. she was probably right to complain. i wasn't committed. i wasn't blog driven. now k2's giving me shit. my life has been busy of late. and at least i'm replying to your comments.

so tonight, i'm at the zoo. and then, i'm not... because i left the zoo. it wasn't much of a zoo. but not the point. i was on my way home from the zoo when my phone starts ringing (i have the theme music from austin powers as my ring - yeah, i know... i'm cool). so i answer it and who do you think it is? that's right. it's one of the bitches from upstairs. now she wants to stay. her and her waste of skin devil child. and she's found a new roommate. so i'm thinking "this is fantastic. just when i think i'm getting rid of them, they decide they don't want to go." so what i actually say is "i've got an appointment to show the place in five minutes. i'll talk to you tomorrow about this." and i wasn't lying. i did have an appointment to show it... only drew, the guy who was supposed to come and see it didn't show up.

drew. what a stupid name. it sounds stupid and made up to me.

so anyway, i should have just stayed at the zoo. while i was there, two jaguars started gettin' it on. that's when things started getting uncomfortable between me and my zoo tour guide. but there was a family there and the mother put her young kid up on the fence for a better view. so i'm like "there are some storks around the corner. they might be a more appropriate animal to use in your little chat about makin' babies with your five year old."

and then i saw a sleeping tiger and three black bears. and then i left. shut up.

fire in the hole

it's just past midnight. saturday... well, sunday now i guess for those of you who demand accuracy. i'm at work. i've been here for about an hour now. i plan to work until 9am. "what? nothing better to do?" you ask?

that's right.

i'm homeless. so i've decided to spend the night working. getting caught up and hopefully ahead so next week isn't so painful. almost ten hours in peace and quiet, with no interruptions from clients should make that possible.

why am i homeless? that's a fantastic question. would you like to guess or would you like me to tell you. if you'd like to guess, you may want to skip the rest of this paragraph because i plan to tell everyone else. there's a huge country music concert going on today. a bunch of people i've never heard of (not a country music fan) plus brooks & dunn and alan jackson. yes, i've heard of them. anyway, my mother, and several of her crazy friends are country music fans. they also like dusty rose and wall paper... and probably dusty rose wall paper. when the concert was announced, my mother (or "me ma" as i prefer to call her -- anyone know what movie that's from?) asked if she and her crazy friends could stay at my place that weekend. i of course agreed, because i'm a good son and also because i typically have numerous other places i can go out of town to stay. and that was the plan. until the bitches upstairs and their devil child decided they were moving out. don't get me wrong... i'm very happy that they're leaving. the problem, however, is that i now have to find someone to replace them and had to be in town all weekend to show it to prospective tenants. so because of the 2nd floor bitches, the country music concert and me ma and her crazy friends taking up every available square inch of my apartment, i'm homeless.

ok. one more thing, and then i have to get back to work. ok... i don't have to. i technically don't have to do any work until 8:30 monday morning. but i'm here... i might as well. haven't we been over this?

so yeah... the thing. for the last three days, the big news... the thing deemed most important... the item not to be missed and therefore demands 90% of the space on the front page of the newspaper has been the stage for this fucking country music concert. thursday - the assembly of the stage begins. friday - wow! look how big it is. and weekend - it's still standing. i should be happy that this is the most newsworthy thing going on versus rapes, murders and disasters and things like that. but seriously? three days? it's a fucking stage! and it's significantly smaller and less impressive than the stage they showcased for three days last year at this time when the rolling stones played here. plus, on friday, our premier called an election and he, and all of the other parties, announced their political platforms. how sad is it that this one event, which is actually over at this very moment, overshadows the political leadership race for our province? what kind of sad statement is that?

more bulk barn stuff for k2 -- i'm not obsessed... i was just provided a new resource

k2... just in case you're not going back through all of my old posts to see if any other comments were posted or just for the pure enjoyment of it (shame on you), i thought i'd point out that m from life's a journey has video footage of the inside (and outside) of the bulk barn. i recommend watching the entire video... it's very well done even if you don't know the people. (stars t & m) but if you only want to watch the bulk barn part, it's quite close to the beginning of the video.

anyway, you'll find it here... http://seeasilverlining.blogspot.com/2006/07/serendipity.html

thanks m - i forgot about that.

managing expectations

for some reason, i just noticed at the top right side of my outlook window, there's a box that says "need help? type a question." so i did. i wrote "where are all of my socks going?" (they seem to be disappearing on me lately) and here's the help microsoft decided to provide:

> searching for items (oh my! i never thought of looking for them. idiots.)

> using folders (ok mom. but what the hell does folding have to do with finding lost socks?)

> stop the spam (i'm confused now. are we talking about the meat or the email? and again, what's the relevancy?)

> customizing views (ohhhh... i get it. if i visualize the socks being there, maybe they will be. stupid philosophy.)

> creating notes (a little late for that. but a good idea for the future. i'll leave myself notes of where, and how many socks i've taken.)

> check spelling (tori spelling? does she have my socks? what the screw?)

and on and on. why offer help if you're not going to provide it? i'm just saying. thanks again for nothing microsoft. here... let me pay you thousands of more dollars for your useless software.

the hunt

early morning. i've just shaken myself from a restless sleep. something's not right. i've felt it all night but was too indifferent to care. so i stumble, still half asleep, from my resting place to check on the others in my camp.

there's still dew on the grass. the morning sky is blue, but it looks threatening. tempting enough to make you think it will be a good day, but it's full of deceit. like a montreal cabbie.

i give my head a shake to try to hasten my consciousness. it doesn't work. i've got a big day ahead of me. i don't know what i'll be doing, but i know it'll be big. "where is everyone?" i wonder to myself when i reach the adjoining camp. oh, right. i'm alone. it was last week that someone else was with me. that could make today's tasks more difficult, but i'm confident. i can do anything.

but before i do anything, i've got to shake these cobwebs. a few minutes of sitting should do the trick. i choose my chair carefully. or not. i choose the chair i always sit in. and as i do, it happens. in the distance, movement. quick. agile. my senses almost immediately reach their full power. and i spring to my feet. the hunt begins.

i instinctively scan for my weapon. anger begins to build. i feel violated. it's in my space. it's on my personal property. it's a spider on my sofa. the couch i lay on when i watch tv or a movie. who does this thing think it is? i'll soon teach it a lesson. i'm bigger. i'm faster. i'm smarter. i'm stronger. and i'm angry.

i grab a nearby tissue, angrily push my ottoman/coffee table out of the way. i throw it like it's a sheet of paper. weightless. it's amazing the strength one develops when threatened. next, the sofa. my intruder has quickly run for cover behind MY sofa. though infuriated at the intrusion, i'm impressed by the boldness of its tactics... using my own environment as a hiding space. it's either tremendously stupid, or mistakenly confident. if it had a brain in its head, it would have immediately retreated to the safety of the outside.

i latch onto the sofa and quickly pull it out from the wall. i furiously scan for the enemy. he's gone. and hey... what's that? a nickle on the floor. is that the reason the spider has come? it's also kind of dusty under here. so i decide to go and grab the broom to clean up before i continue the hunt. clearly i've got the spider cornered so what's my rush?

i run the broom over the strips of hardwood. "that's better," i think. ok. back to the task at hand. i grab my weapon again and flip the sofa onto its back in one quick, smooth motion. (yeah, i'm smooth. i'm sure i've mentioned that before). another quick scan and my heart sinks. my intruder is nowhere to be found.

"what the screw?!" i exclaim. i scratch my head in the stereotypically confused manner. where could it have gone? i've underestimated this spider. it's smarter than i gave it credit for. faster too. there's only one thing to do. i run to my bedroom, pack a suitcase with as many clothes as i can, stop by the cupboard in the kitchen and grab a bag of cookies and i run out the door. i drive to my office to get the weekend paper and start looking for new apartments. maybe i'm overreacting. but i have a tendancy to do that in the morning.

the spider has won round one. but now that i'm fully awake, i've come to the conclusion that i can't let one spider drive me out of my apartment. especially since i've just recently found out that the unwed mother upstairs and the devil child she gave birth to is moving out. i will be victorious. by the end of the day, i will stand over the bloodied remains of my intruder with my hands raised in victory. and word will spread throughout the insect kingdom like wildfire. entering the maison of d without invite means certain death.

be warned.

i can't help it

i think the cashier at the gas station hit on me when i was there a few minutes ago. she purposely didn't blow her cigarette smoke in my face AND not only that, but she frantically tried to fan it away from me. then, she said "sorry. i didn't want to blow my smoke in your face."

and i say "i appreciate that." (yeah, i know... i'm smooth.)

and then she starts asking me about my SUV and telling me how much she liked it.

so then i say "ok then. umm... i'm gonna go now. i just wanted some gas. you're very pretty and everything, but your smoking habit is disgusting. so you know, we won't be having the sex."

ok. i didn't say that. but geez... she was all over me with her words. and then again, i guess i was asking for it... being all polite and stuff.

a man of my word...

k2 - allow me to introduce you to THE BULK BARN. dun dun DUH.



notice how clean it is. the lack of hay and manure around it. also, under the store's name, it says "quality bulk food" - quality! they can't lie about stuff like that. trust me, i know. i work in advertising and we're always honest about stuff like that.

i didn't go inside to take a picture, but believe me... there are no live animals in there. only pinatas that look like animals and possibly some animal crackers. i'm not quite sure.

i'd also like to point out what a nice day it was when i took this. look at the sky. almost looks fake doesn't it. well it's not. i wish there was a way to prove it, but that's something you had to be here to experience. but you weren't... were you? any of you?

ode to montreal

your streets gave me blisters.
your cab drivers always try to cheat me.
your stores are filled with strippers and sex toys.
and quite frankly, you smell funny.

but your women are beautiful and well dressed.
and your stores are filled with strippers and sex toys.
so, you know...
i can't help but like you just a little bit.

and oh yeah, here's some other stuff.
i really dislike your airport.
just thought i'd mention that,
since i'm flying home tomorrow.

have i mentioned the stri...
oh right. i did.
and one more thing, stop trying to pass your inns off as hotels.
cause i'm not buying it.
and learn how to decorate.
because you don't seem to know how to decorate.

montreal, montreal, montreal.
thanks for speaking english to me.
except for that waitress at the baton rouge.
but that's ok, because i understood her anyway.

ahhhhh montreal...

...you whore.

and i mean that in the most flattering way possible. but for the record, the three streets i've walked down were quite whorish. i'm having trouble finding a place to eat that doesn't have nude dancers. ok... that's not true. i ate at the baton rouge. they make delicious baby back ribs. but the strip bars and adult stores significantly outnumber the restaurants.

and so explains the "whore" comment.

on another note, this city is full of beautiful women. so i like that part. i noticed that in toronto yesterday too. how can i convince a few thousand of these people to move to moncton? maybe it would just be easier for me to move to toronto or montreal.

someone entertain me!

one more thing

you may have noticed how extremely popular i've become. i now have two people whose names start with "k" who occassionally read the drivel i post. everyone, say hello to kara. that means i'm going to have to come up with a new system for identifying and responding to people. i'd like to be able to tell you what it is, but i haven't figured it out yet. and now isn't the time to do it because i just ordered a pizza and i have to go pick it up. well, i don't have to... i could have had it delivered. but i didn't. so now i have to go pick it up.

you know?

wait! i'll just call her k2 (not an indication of you being inferior to the original k -- though he might argue it)... simply the sequence you arrived here. or posted here. or whatever brought you to my attention.

ok. so that's figured out. now... who will go pick up my pizza for me?

if people could talk...

...they'd say "d, you did a lot of really stupid things this weekend." and then "why don't you quit being so stupid?" and then they'd call me "stupid."

by the way, this is my 100th post. i expect significant praise for coming this far.

and no, i won't tell you any of the stupid things i did. unless...

something to keep in mind

if you ever get arrested for murder, i think a good thing to do would be to start asking the cop who arrested you where he lives and if he has any family, and if he keeps his doors locked... then it would look like you're taking a personal interest in his life and safety and he might let you go because you've become friends.