The Travels Of Brian

On New York, Prestige, Fire, Flirting, Friday's, And Lost Opportunities

2007-02-12T01:06:00.000-05:00

A lot has happened since last posting. The only stuff I'm going to write about is the past 72 hours.

Thursday night, as I was waiting for the bus, I had a cop pull up to me at the bus stop and ask me what I was doing. I told him I was waiting for the bus. He started interrogating me. I was slightly freaking out as this went on, since I didn't want to be arrested as an illegal, deported, etc. So I said I was on an internship, and that I was living with my grandmother, which sounds bad, but hell, there's no rent and she does my laundry hahahapleasedon'tarrestme. I guess that disarming humour worked, since when I let slip that I grew up in Ottawa, the only thing the cop said was that he hates those f'n Senators.

Yes, he said f'n. You think I give a fuck if cuss-bombs fly?

So, Friday the plan was to go to New York and see my aunt's play. She was directing a play, and I had reserved a ticket and so the plans were set. My first instinct was to take the Greyhound round-trip, but I was advised that this was not wise. The Fung-Wah bus is the way to go, I'm told. 15 bucks and it's a direct express from Chinatown to Chinatown. A little online research and it seems to be a good idea. As for the way back, a redeye Amtrak will get me back to Boston on Saturday morning.

Normally my aunt would put me up, but under the circumstances, she said that she couldn't, and I think she felt guilty about it. She shouldn't have, since what transpired was pretty fucking epic and awesome in its own right. And while we're on this aside, I was asked if a train can count as a redeye, and the answer, to my mind, is yes. If you get on late at night and it's morning when you arrive, it constitutes a redeye. Hence, you can't really have a redeye flight from NYC to Boston, as the flight is only about 45 minutes. I'd hop on the last jet at 1am and arrive in Boston by 2am, completely fucked since the transit in Boston stops shortly after midnight. Anyway, back to the story.

Any bus company that eschews the typical booth/computer setup and just has a table/stool setup by the gate at South Station is good in my book. And so Fung-Wah is good in my book. The ride to New York took roughly 4 hours, and once I arrived I walked to Penn Station to gab my train ticket home, which was simple/easy since Penn Station is right beside the Empire State Building, and it's hard to be anywhere in lowertown Manhattan and not be able to see the damned thing. So I go, I get my ticket, and I try to get in touch with Lisa.

I get her voicemail. I make an active point of not wishing her luck, but despite that, things would still go awry that night. I'm getting ahead of myself.

So I make my way to the theatre, not that I'm trying to stalk her or anything, but I do want to grab my ticket for the show. Ticket pickup(or "tickup") isn't for an hour and change. There was a TGI Friday's not too far with a big Happy Hour sign advertising quite spectacular drink specials. Two margaritas, two plates of appetizers, some barstool philosophizing on the whole Canadian/American thing, 20 minutes, and 20 bucks later, I'm ready for just about anything but a night of high quality, professional theatre... which is to say that I'm feeling quite drunk. Lisa and her husband don't drink. Oh dear God, I think... I need to sober up like lightning or I'm going to make a total ass of myself.

Now, I knew my aunt had directed a number of productions, but I always had the impression that it was kinda community theatre-ish stuff. In other words, I had no idea that she was directing a play at the oldest theatre school in North America, and arguably one of the most prestigious and exclusive ones in the world. Self-Consciousness, ENGAGE!

I grab my ticket at the theatre and run across the street to a tea shop. Giant chai latte and an espresso chocolate chip scone.. need the caffeine to get sharp-witted. I feel a little more confident if not at all more sober, get back across the street, and feel remarkably uncouth as I'm chuckling at The Onion in the lobby while everyone around me knows each other and are probably talking about Truffaut or Salinger or something intelligent and artsy that I know a little bit about but nowhere near enough about to participate in a conversation with people who actually know their shit. We get invited in for the play. I grab my seat, a row and change away from my aunt, who's smiling and waving at everyone but me. In fairness, I resembled Jesus last time I saw her. The show starts, and it's actually quite funny and then a bell starts ringing.

"The fuck is that?" says one of the characters.
"Oh, I think it's the train bell." says another.

It was not the train bell. It was the fire alarm, and there was, in fact, a fire in the building, although kudos to the actors for reacting to it in a very believable manner. We left through a lobby filled with smoke to the street, where I was able to catch up, albeit briefly, with Lisa and her husband, and impress him and the few people gathered around with my ability to watch Carnivale on my Treo. Of course, watching HBO on public transit is always risky, because I'm pretty sure there's a clause somewhere that requires every episode of any HBO program to have some nudity, and I always get nervous when it inevitably happens, fearful that someone will think me a perv.

Of course, I've got a great comeback lined up should that ever happen: It's not porn, it's HBO.

Anyway, the fire is put out, FDNY are hailed as heroes, the show starts back up again, and then they start testing the fire alarm not 5 minutes later. The actors, to their credit, take it all in stride. The rest of the show was fucking great. I admittedly am no theatre buff, but the acting I saw on display felt a shitload more real than any of the stuff I've seen in my visits to Stratford and the NAC over the years. Just great stuff and enthralling to watch. Then again, I was much closer to the stage, so I may have picked up on it more.

Intermission: I'm invited to the cast party, and meet another Canadian named Danny. She reminds me in several ways of Reba Sigler. She's from Calgary.

The second half of the show was much like the first, only without the fire. So we go to the cast party and I feel a little out of place but people are pretty mingly and friendly even though I feel a little out of place, in a room full of artsy people who aren't only artsy, but skilled enough at it to be at this incredible lofty level... and I'm just a B average Economics major who sells Spring Break for a living in his off semesters. In the hope of having some common ground, what little acting and theatre I did during chilhood and high school come up. How I'm still known as "Frank" at a daycare in Ottawa. At one point I'm asked to do a chicken impersonation. It was deemed "thoughtful".

Eventually me and this girl just start chatting, and we keep chatting for what some might call an extended period of time. And she's kinda shockingly open about herself and we're she's at in her life, which is something I'm not used to, but which is really quite cool since most people are so reserved, and I'm so not... so to meet someone who's rather like me in that regard is quite cool.

She lives by Penn Station, which is where I'm grabbing my train, so I walk her home. It turns out that she's coming up to Boston this weekend for a funeral, and I sheepishly suggest we meet up and eat something, because I think that's what you're supposed to do when you want to hang out with someone and don't want the specter of potentially fooling around hanging over the whole affair. I got her number and we parted ways.

And this is where I feel kinda guilty for feeling kinda optimistic about something that was kinda a lost cause to begin with. I called her last night to see if she'd be up for something today and she wasn't sure, since her schedule had changed, but she asked me to call her back. And I didn't, because... well, she's busy as hell, and I'm busy as hell, and as much as I got the sense we could both use someone to hang out with, I don't think we're it for each other. We were two people who randomly met and happened to click, and the idea of putting ourselves way out just to extend that for a little bit longer before inevitably flying apart and never seeing each other again... well, I just couldn't rationalize it with the workload I have and the fact that she's got a funeral to deal with. But if she's reading this, and she may well be since I'm debating texting her with the URL, I think you're quite the great person, and it's too bad that we'll probably never see each other again.

It's not terribly romantic, but it wasn't supposed to be about romance. More as it happens.

On Falling Off The Wagon, The Holy Trinity, Gnocchi, Faking The Funk, And Cougars

2007-01-28T01:09:00.000-05:00

Yeah, there's plenty to cover in this one.

First, this post isn't brought to you by Smokin' Aces, because it's really not that good. There's one scene that's absolutely, undeniably, fucking balls-to-the-wall fantastic, but the rest of the film isn't quite there. It's almost Guy Ritchie, but not. And when it accepts that and just tries to do its own thing, it's good. But... it's just not all a Guy Ritchie movie is supposed to be. Maybe it's the lack of British accents, or that it isn't all that funny... but it isn't a movie worth waiting in line and paying to see.

Although, Jason Bateman and Ben Affleck are damned funny.

In the new year, I made a resolution to lose 15-20 pounds before March 1st. I'm actually more or less on track for that... as I am considerably less bulky than I was at the new year. However, the meals I ate yesterday(McD's for breakfast and pulled pork for dinner) didn't especiallyIn the weeks that followed, I resolved to stop drinking. That totally didn't happen, as even now, as I write this, I'm moderately hammered, with the Sufjan Stevens blaring and my fingers flying as fast as they can with my mind trying to keep up on spelling errors.

The real trouble started Thursday, when I worked from home. I started earlier than I was supposed to that day, and worked later, so fuck you if you thought I slacked off. I did everything expected of me.

The Holy Trinity referred to is Booze, Drugs, and Customer Service. Not that I engaged in all three, but I certainly had the opportunity to when my uncle and his friend swung by my Grandmother's at lunchtime on Thursday, and they offered me tokes and tallboys. I don't smoke weed.

I'm almost always on customer service duty from noon to 3pm. And I did my duty, while managing my other work. And that''s all I've gotto say about that.

Today I had two plans: Take care of the work I didn't get done yesterday and see Smokin' Aces. I wound up doing both those things, and pub-crawling my way across downtown Boston, and having dinner at the best damn Italian joint in Waltham. The Chateau is awesome, and I ordered the Chicken Parm with Gnocchi because Gnocchi got mentioned on Season 2 of The OC... and that's the only excuse I got. But hell, it was good... it was really good. I will order it again, given the chance, because it's tasty as hell.

So I went on my train ride from Waltham to Boston with my aunt and uncle who were going to see Bob Seger at the Garden (TD Banknorth, not Boston... as Boston Garden was torn down far too long ago), and then we parted ways... not to reunite until... now, really, as they came back at 12:25 after missing the last train home... they cabbed to Waltham, so I really don't feel put upon by them being here... they live out in Leominster... which is far... and Waltham is more than far enough if you're cabbing.

My movie got out at 9:20, and the train was at 11:30... I hit three bars for a pint apiece as I made my way back to the Garden(which is also the train station, for those keeping track), and I came to a few conclusions... Cheers is a total tourist trap, but it's still a decent bar... any bar that has a massive lineup is, for all intents and purposes, Piccadilly's... And if I affect a light Scottish brogue and tell people I'm from Cape Breton and/or Halifax, they totally buy it, even though it's total bullshit.

So I end up at North Station/The Garden at 10:50, and I'm like, shit, I gotta kill 40 minutes, so I find a bar, McGann's, and that's where I become A Douche For All Seasons.

Her: You know, you could sit next to me and I could pretend I have a friend.
Me: I could. **walks away**

She was ugly, she was 30-odd, and she wasn't even trying to impress anyone with her plaid sweater over a grey Patriots sweater, and he;;, if a thirtysomething broad puts in the effort, odds are I'll be attracted to that, and not react adversely when the proverbial moves are put upon me. I was drinking a beer called ESB that wasn't especially good. All told, the three beers I had tonight, none of which I had before, weren't particularly good. UfO was okay, if you like heavy, strong, beers that don't really taste like anything... Sam Adams Winter Lager is a lot like Creemore, but not quite as good, as its aftertaste is kinda sharp and sour and lame... ESB was meh, thoroughly meh...

More as it happens.

On Pan's Labyrinth

2007-01-27T00:24:00.001-05:00

See It. Seriously, stop reading this and just go. It's rare that I find myself compelled to use the beautiful in describing a film... but I think it applies better than any other to what I saw today. It's just... great. There's parts where it's a little slow and rambly, but the ending is so worth it.

Very, VERY Highly Recommended.

On The Colts, 45 And Otherwise, Salem, And Stopping Drinking

2007-01-22T20:56:00.000-05:00

It's just Payton's year. That's all I have to say about yesterday's game.

Oh dear God I had too much to drink on Friday night. It started out simply enough... we were going to go to Scoletti's, start predrinking there, and from there it would be off to the wild bars of Salem, MA... as wild as bars that close at 1am can be. I picked up a 6pack, and that was probably my first error... because I knew I wasn't taking anything home, I bought what I thought I'd reasonably drink. I can't drink a six-pack and stay reasonable. Well, I can, but only if that's all I drink. If I'm pounding that to pregame... I'm going to order more once I hit the bar, and things are going to get shitshow in short order. So I'm pounding the beers at Scoletti's, we're snacking on pasta and chicken... a poker game is contemplated, played, and I win. Admittedly, I win with a somewhat dubious hand, but I win. At this point the beers are done and it's off to the bar.

I'm drunk. And as we enter Rockafella's, I decide it's a good time to order a drink, because that's what you do at a bar. A gin and tonic is what I asked for, a GIN and tonic is what I received, which is to say that it was strong. I vaguely recall some girl flirting with me but I wouldn't have said anything charming, clever, or sexy in my state. We left to go to another bar, O'Neill's. It was there that I met Papa. Apparently his response to my state was, "Now why'd you guys have to go and get Brian drunk?" I think I did a Jager shot somewhere around this point before we all returned to Scoletti's, where I threw up and fell asleep.

I woke up with a wicked hangover and stumbled my way to the Salem commuter rail stop, pelted by brutal winds. When I got downtown there was enough of a wait that I had time to tour downtown boston a bit. I found a nice little pub and had a breakfast that didn't sit well before hopping the train out to Waltham.

And so I look at the effects of my drinking that evening, and I find myself wondering how my drinking helped that night. I was so drunk I was pretty much useless from a social perspective. Would I have been better if I were less drunk? Well, I would've been more coherent, to be sure, and less likely to have thrown up. So, should I have drank at all? What am I like when I'm stone sober?

Well, I'm not so good there either. I was pretty bitter and disgruntled at AM's show last Friday when I started to sober up and realise the place was full of dudes. So, I need an inbetween happy place where I'm outgoing, sociable, "on" in the parlance of our times. And that inbetween happy place is found with Red Bull, Rockstar, Arush... energy drinks.

I noticed two things while I was working New Years in Montreal with Breakaway. One, I was being really sociable and outgoing, and two, I was drinking energy drinks like a motherfucker. I think that I'm outgoing, fun, and coherent when I'm riding high on that much caffeine, and I much prefer that buzz to the buzz of being drunk.

Now, that's not to say I don't see the benefit in sometimes being drunk: When I need help falling asleep, a couple beers or a tall glass of something rum-based is going to put me in that nice space where it's so easy for me to fall asleep. And hell, if I'm out for a nice dinner, I'm not going to say, "Nah, I'll pass on that merlot... just a can of Red Bull will be fine. But at the bars, clubs, etc? Energy Drinks seem to be the way to go.

Setting up my home office was easy, and now I can, in principle, work from home with relative ease. I'm probably not going to that often, at least not in the next couple weeks... but once things get settled with pay and all that jazz... well, it'd be nice not to have that biatch of a commute every morning and night... not that I mind leaving at 9am and getting home at 1am... it's just, it'd be nicer if I didn't have to do that every single day.

More as it happens.

On The Girl, Elation, Spring Break, and Fat, With A Shoutout To Charlie Murphy

2007-01-18T22:34:00.000-05:00

So, the girl I met Friday night. Susan. I called her on Sunday evening and left her a message... she never called me back.

I was a little distraught, but understanding these things do take time, I let it simmer for a day or two. Then I got my new cell phone, and I'll admit I was conflicted on how to proceed. I knew that getting a new contact was an excuse to try and get in touch with her again, half in a "so, do you want to do something or no?" sense, and half in a "if you do, here's the best number you can reach me at sense." But yet, in my initial inquiries to friends, I was advised against this course of action. Don't call, they said. Just change your voicemail and if she gets in touch she gets in touch.

I was not keen on this proposed alternative.

Cue Charlie Murphy, from his guest stint on the animated version of The Boondocks: "Bitches love it when you text 'em." Now, I'm pretty sure the animated version of Sam Jackson berated him after he said that, but dammit, there is truth in that. In the time since I first heard that line, I've texted more and called less... and it's paid dividends. So I think that texting her is the best idea, and I do: hey this is brian from fri night my new number is ... call or txt me if you still want to do salsa lessons :)

I thought it would be a rousing success. It wasn't. As I write this now... yeah, she hasn't called or texted. Which on the one hand sucks, but on the other hand frees up my Saturday night... so I think I'm going to go to The Animation Show 3, which is just now kicking off it's tour. I think it's going to be really awesome to see... much as was the first Animation Show back in 2003.

Things are settling down nicely here in Boston. I've finally got an IP phone so I can work from home, and that's handy. I have my local cell phone, and all is well. Earlier this evening, the head director of the company sent out a mass email going over the week, in which I got a "big welcome". And it felt really fucking nice, which is, I admit, a little unexpected that it feels so good... but it does. So I'm writing this on a fairly high note despite never hearing back from that girl. Which is a low note.

I'm down to 170 pounds from 178 at Christmas. This is good... and as long as I keep hitting the lean cuisine and keep staying away from the Friendly's and the Big Macs, I think I can hit my goal of getting down to 160 by the end of February. Gotta look my best on Spring Break, you know.

And on the topic of Spring Break, I gotta say I feel far more optimistic this year than I ever have in the past regarding the on-site stuff we're going to be doing. This isn't a shill or anything, I'm just saying... in past years, I've felt concern about the direction things were taking and I think that fear was confirmed in a couple years where I was being told over and over that everything was going to be great and I didn't see the greatness under discussion really congealing... it's a similar view I had on Rona Ambrose's Greenhouse Gas Plan. For weeks beforehand she was always like, "Hey media, wait until you see my global warming plan. It's totally awesome. I'm going to set out some tough standards for big polluters and they're going to have to deal with it." And the media said upon hearing this, "Great! What's the plan?" And Rona replied, "I don't want to tell you just yet, but trust me, it's totally awesome. So if you'll excuse me, I have to go force industry to agree to this awesome plan." So the media says, "all right, sounds good, let us know when the plan can go public." And then the plan went public, and it blew goat dick, and the media was like, "what the hell, rona? this plan freakin' blows!" And Rona's only response was "I'm sorry, I guess you didn't hear me when I originally introduced it, but this plan is totally awesome, so you're clearly mistaken."

I guess the moral of the story is just because you say it, doesn't make it so. And it's for that reason that I'm kinda glad I haven't been seeing a lot of big talk... just big action. This year is going to kick ass... the staff, the parties, the bookings... everything is just coming together in a way that feels RIGHT. And I think it's going to be the best year yet.

More as it happens.

On AM, Movie Moments, Leagues, and Cab Rides

2007-01-14T01:35:00.000-05:00

But first, a digression on me having a laptop now, and having DSL installed in my grandmother's apartment. Generally speaking, I like it. With my work schedule such as it is... I gotta download just to keep up with my shows... and this winter, it's going to be a doozy.

Rome on Sundays... and 24, Heroes, and Studio 60 all on Mondays... it's a lot of content considering I don't finish on Mondays until 10:30pm. The upside is that the torrents should be up by the time I finally commute home.

And since I've gone out my way in the past to say so... not last year, but the year before and also the season before that...

WATCH THE NEW 24 TONIGHT, OR JACK BAUER WILL GO HACKSAW ON YOUR GOOFY ASS!!! 8pm, Global/Fox.

So last night a *scratch* DJ AM *scratch* saved my life... his mixing, not mine. Perhaps the tale of the evening should begin at its beginning... I'm new in the office, but I've fallen in with my coworkers pretty quickly, and wanted to keep that up, so I decide that yes, this socializing with coworkers thing is a good idea, and I drop 20 bucks for a ticket to see DJ AM. The plan was for myself and Scoletti to get a ride to Jacob(?)'s place, where everyone was meeting and from whence we'd be cabbing to the club. Sully(my boss) was going to go his own way and swing by with his ladyfriend later on in the evening... but the three of us(myself, Scoletti, and Sully)were all that was left in the office.

So we started pregaming. We sniped a couple beers and a bottle of cheap rum from a fridge and it was on. Went to Jacob's, had another beer... and it was off to the club. I recall telling a bad joke or two during the cab ride.

I was looking forward to seeing new parts of Boston... as I only know small chunks of downtown Boston thus far. In principle, seeing the club district would be a cool new thing for me... except the place was on the Boston Common... which is the one place in Boston I know. So... that was a minor bust. The club was quite nice though, and I suppose it's the canadian in me that makes me think 5 bucks is a perfectly acceptable price for a beer at the club, since my coworkers seemed to think it rather expensive.

I saw a prime opportunity to get some photos of myself silhouetted against some lighting panels, so I took a few, one of which is now my new facebook photo if you're wondering. The opening DJ was pretty decent, not doing anything fancy, but laying tracks on top of tracks, and exercising generally good taste. I was pounding Bud Lights pretty steady until AM himself came on.

If you've been to the dance cave... or maybe if you've just been to a club that happened to have a DJ playing who was really good... you may have had that moment where you just stop giving a fuck about the people around you and start screaming along with the songs, dancing spastically with hands in the air and all that jazz. AM delivers that without the constraints of genre that can sometimes hamper an evening at the dance cave when you think, as much as bloc party and bowie et al kick ass... sometimes you just wanna hear some 50 Cent. Not a lot, but some. Perhaps laid on top of the new Beatles album being played in reverse, and despite sounding awful on paper, it works beautifully.

I started sobering up at roughly the same time I realised the place was a damned sausagefest. 4 or 5 to 1, easily... and I realised I wasn't going to meet anyone. I played the desperation card, half-throwing myself at a couple of larger girls which didn't work as I was sobering up and in no mood to willingly chase that which I knew I didn't want. The mindset was that of, "Should I throw myself on a grenade to see if I can still feel anything at all?" and the answer I provided myself was, "No, no you shouldn't." I was kinda okay with that and more than a little disappointed when a girl dug her heel into my toe.

She apologized, I said no big deal, and I started walking onward when her friend grabs me by the shoulder. "My friend likes you, she thinks you're cute. Go for it." So, presented with that rather conclusive evidence, I go for it, we get to chatting... and I find out the following: Her name is Susan, she's an architect, and she's 24, originally from Virginia, and up for salsa dancing sometime. Blister In The Sun comes on, and she goes over to another friend of hers... this one's been being hit on by a guy who looks about 275 and in his early-mid 30's. Not Susan's friend's type, presumably... but is Susan protecting her friend? Not really, as Susan seems more interested in me(and who can blame her?). Blister In The Sun ends, AM starts a transition into something I instantly recognize, and in the span of this 5 seconds... Susan's friend who was getting hit on flees her pursuer, grabs Susan, and they're both gone before I get the chance to ask for her number. AM finishes his transition:

Ah, now I don't hardly know her
But I think I could love her
Crimson and clover

The song, one I consider among my all-time favorite love songs, and Susan's rapid departure, timed and combined so perfectly as to have been ripped from the movie version of my life, hit me with such force as to nearly render me a blubbering mess in the middle of the dance floor, a shell of a man filled not with man, but with sadness and regret. And then the lights came up and she was still gone. And I was... not happy with how effected I was by all this. At least, I was unhappy with the effect, which was to make me unhappy. Had she and I made out during Crimson and Clover, I probably would've been beside myself and giddy with joy, thinking that this was it and that she was the one. And as I'm standing by the exit, thinking about what just transpired, and how the hell I'm going to get home, I'm told...

"She's not going to be impressed if you're all slack-jawed like that."

Her other friend, the one not being hit on by the big ol' creep, the one who originally told me to go for it, was there. And I was slack-jawed, although I was probably telling myself it was shell-shock at the time so as to console my lack of being a man with manly phraseology.

Fun Fact: The Shins, who I'm sure many of us know and/or love, misspelled the name of their band. They're named after the mayor and his family in The Music Man, a family I can attest from personal experience is spelled Shinn. So... yeah. Phraseology.

Anyway, I ask friend of Susan if she's still in the club, and she says yes, and I really need to go for it because Susan's a really nice girl and can't make these moves for herself because she's really shy and not the type to make eyes at a boy the way she did at me, apparently. Susan shows up a few minutes later, and I get her number, and I tell her we're going to do salsa sometime. And I hope we do... because she's exactly the kind of girl I think I should be dating at this point in my life: established, attractive, smart, all that good stuff... that should make her rather unattracted to a guy like me: making good money, attractive, smart, but still in school and currently living with his grandmother.

The only rationale I can come up with is this: It doesn't matter if you don't think you're in her league, as long as she thinks you are, all other considerations are kinda moot. I ask her if she knows the song Crimson and Clover, she says she loves it, I assure her I'll call her, wish her a good night, and she's off to take care of the friend that was getting hit on by the creep.

So now I have to take this girl out for dinner and dancing, which is an opportunity I relish, and think should be a lot of fun. And then it hits me: How the fuck am I getting home? My grandmother lives as close to Boston as anyone in my family... she lives in the burbs, kinda... more or less the equivalent of Keele campus as compared to downtown Toronto.

Boston, it seems, does not have a vomit comet service. So I cab, alone, and it's just shy of 35 bucks with tip. This is not fun, I dare say it's unfun, and future outings will no doubt involve investigations into how late the subways run. I know the last commuter train is just after midnight... so it doesn't bode super well... but hopefully things can be done or hotels can be booked or she has an apartment downtown and I'm sufficiently suave that she wants to invite me up.

More as it happens, and I suspect more will.

On Quick Things That Really Aren't, The Wages Of Global Warming, and Of Incompetence As Well.

2007-01-11T22:06:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow night I'm going to see DJ AM at a bar here in Boston. I'm not entirely sure what to expect, but a ton of my coworkers are going, so this is a really good opportunity to meet and socialize with them. Everything I've heard about AM is that he's absolutely amazing live... so we'll see. Fingers crossed.

It "only" took me an hour and a half to get to work today. Considering it normally can take upwards of two and a half, this sounds good. Considering it would take 20 minutes if I drove at a decent clip(there's a highway that basically runs door-to-door from Nana's to here)... it's really kinda bad.

I heard squawking today as I walked across the parking lot from the mall to work today... since the office is on the edge of the parking lot for the mall where the bus drops me off. Well, what do I see but some Canada Geese squawking and screaming in a small group. And I'm thinking... I've never seen Canada Geese in January. It was very warm a few days ago. And now it's very much the opposite. Is the cold weather fucking with these guys' migration habits? I really don't know anything about geese other than that they fly south for the winter, so I may well be talking out my ass here, but it was something I noticed.

Fast forward to my supper break. I go partway across the parking lot to where there's a grocery store. I go in, and ask the guy at the hot table for a few chicken strips. He puzzles over them for a minute or two.

Him: Do you know how much these usually are?
Me: Nah, I've never ordered them before.
Him: *pauses* Well, this is how much they are today.

I look at the bag. He's given me 5 all-white chicken strips for 89 cents. Sweet! They didn't have any sauce for the strips, so I actually had to buy a bottle of barbeque sauce before using what I needed and chucking the rest out. It was wasteful... but hell, for everything I paid a little over 3 dollars and I certainly got that much value out of it.

So thanks, grocery dude. You sorta made my night. Tomorrow night, it'll hopefully be made by DJ AM.

More as it happens.

On Commuting, and The Return of MC Young Kitestring?

2007-01-10T21:57:00.000-05:00

I heart Battlestar Galactica. I also heart watching it on the train and bus rides to and from work... it's a jolly good show. And I think Gaius "GB also stands for Glorious Bastard" Baltar is... well, he's a glorious bastard.

I've started at Spring Break Discounts' offices in Peabody... it's a nice office, and I like my coworkers. Padre is looking really promising for this year.

But this post is really about something that happened last night. For those who don't know...I tried my hand at rapping last summer under the guise of MC Young Kitestring. You don't need to search it out, and you really don't want to, trust me. I'm not trying to hide it or anything, although it is kinda a source of shame... you just aren't going to get any enjoyment out of it, because it's awful. Trust me.

Anyway... I got inspired last night, and started a new song, Crazy Ass Whiteboy's Gon' Get Himself Killed. At least for know, I'm going to come out and say it has the most promise of any song I've written thus far, which is to say none at all. Anyways... that's what's new with me.

More as it happens.

On Smoking, Great Movies, and Living With One's Grandmother

2007-01-06T15:32:00.000-05:00

Note to self: next time I think it's a great idea to do something I think is suave/dangerous/sexy(read: stupid/stupid/stupid) on New Years... think out the possible ramifications.

Of course, even if I had done that, I don't think there's any way I would've foreseen the catastrophic health effects smoking a cigar on New Years has had on my person this past week. Death warmed over is a pretty accurate description of my current state... my throat is sore and raw, I've got the sniffles, and alternating sweats and chills. I'll live through it, with no small amount of tea, soup, and tylenol.

I'll never smoke again. It's as if, like in all the cartoons we watched as kids when the young chap tries to smoke and his pops forces him to smoke until he's sick? I fucking forced that on myself voluntarily. What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck are smokers thinking?

At least the weather is nice. It's 68 right now in Boston... converted to Celsius... it is, I shit you not, 20 degrees. You know, it's funny... I always told myself over the past few years that I was perfectly capable of working in both temperature scales without any trouble... but when it comes to a January heat wave, 68 just doesn't carry the same weight as 20.

I'm now settled in with my grandmother, although I'm again writing from my aunt's, as Nana doesn't have the internets. My boss is asking me to get that set up... which I gladly will in the next week or so. It's weird how much I depend on the internet... not like an addiction to myspace or some dumb shit like that, but a serious concrete dependence on the internet as a source of information. I've had a few errands to run this past week... go to a couple banks, visit a radio shack, go see a movie or two, pick up a bus map. It's fucking hard to find that shit in a new town without the internet... a map and a phone book are good to a certain extent, but Nana doesn't have a map since she knows where she needs to get to and from... can't get the movie times without a paper she doesn't subscribe to...

So yes, I'm dependant on the internet for a lot of my independence, which I admit is slightly ironic.

All right, and as promised earlier... my top 10 movies of 2006. You'll probably disagree with some of these... and if you do... I don't give a flying fuck.

10. (tie) Pirates 2/Mission:Impossible 3
9. Rocky Balboa
8. Clerks 2
7. Lucky Number Slevin
6. Children Of Men
5. Borat
4. Casino Royale
3. The Departed
2. The Prestige
1. Blood Diamond

Honourable Mentions go to Apocalypto, Bon Cop Bad Cop, and A Scanner Darkly.

More as it happens.

On The End Of 2006, Roostercubing, Fake Stabbings and Real Cold

2007-01-03T01:29:00.000-05:00

Ground Repping with Breakaway is hard work.

Tons of shit went on... had to kick one guy out of the hotel because he threatened to stab his roommate. The guy's girlfriend, 17, insisted on going with him and screamed her grandmother into letting us release her into his custody. They insisted they had money, would get a hotel room, and head home the next day. In truth, they had no money, they froze their asses off on the sidewalk outside the hotel for a few hours until the cops came and carted them away. Meh.

There's a girl here who's fairly cute and seemed to be crushing on me a bit... damn rules that stop me from getting involved. I had to cockblock one of my underlings from getting a threesome... and I hated doing it. Alas, rules are rules, and there's a strict one forbidding fooling around with the clients. When I came back to him in the room, alone with two clients... I had no issue. When they left, only to return with sexy intent after I had crashed for the night... I had to break it up.

It is what it is.

Saturday, in many ways, went perfectly. I did over 12,000 dollars in sales and my till balanced down to the last penny. Then, when we went out to celebrate with a beer... we ran into drama and had to deal with that... no beer.

Good thing I picked up a sixer of Bud Light before I left.

There was an extremely self-concious American there. He feels guilty about being unable to speak french in Quebec. Then again, he thought the entire country spoke french. His heart's in the right place, and we had a decent discussion on politics for a while.

My SD card reader might be broken... which was a bitch for the bus ride from Montreal to Boston... I only had one new episode of Battlestar Galactica, and it was a really good one to boot.

The end of working in Montreal was pretty good. Last night I had an awesome dinner at the Hard Rock, indulged in bottle service, drank myself nigh-unconscious, had way too much fun with one of those party favour horn things, puked at the club(in the bathroom, no worries), saw nary a single girl I waneted to hit on, took a long cab ride home, accusing the cabbie of bilking my friends and I the whole way, pounded some Advil and all the water I could swallow, set the trash can by my bed and conked out.

I woke up actually feeling kinda okay, all things considered... but by the time I made the bus station, the hangover hit, HARD. I'm pretty sure I'm feverish, and I had nothing to eat until 8pm tonight because there was nothing I could keep down.

But god damn, that tea, cookies, and Excedrin combo worked wonders on me. Admittedly, wonders that are starting to wear off.

I'm crashing at my aunt's tonight. I won't be crashing the next two months here because there's family drama afoot... my uncle's brother is staying here... and having just recently met him... the words creepy as hell leap to mind. He was either drunk as fuck or he's even creepier than I feared.

Tomorrow it's off to Nana's. More as it happens.

Introspection

2006-12-23T22:02:00.000-05:00

"If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with." ~CSNY

There's no easy way to write this post, and I don't want to piss people off by writing it, but it's not entirely nice and I think it's something that I need to get off my chest. I visited my high school on Wednesday and had a chat with an old teacher of mine... just catching up on past times, all that jazz, and she had some thoughts on who I am and the way I am that gave me some insights about myself that I've never really had before. In particular, she said I'm mature and worldly far beyond my peers... and I think that might explain a lot. She also said I'm very modest about it... and I think that's where I've been running into trouble of late.

Over the past several months, I've come to the conclusion that, in Toronto at least... the majority of people I think of as friends really aren't meeting the idea in my mind of what a friend should be. I'm not expecting anything of them I wouldn't want them to expect of me... to not leave me hanging with a maybe when I'm trying to make plans that involve them, to not say one thing and do another, to handle the legwork if they want something done... pretty straightforward common courtesy stuff, at least from where I sit. Then again, I may well be in a completely different heandspace than many of my Torontonian peers, since many of them can't(or won't) do that much in their dealings with me. Again, not all of them... but plenty more than should be the case.

Then tonight, I lost out on a fun evening and a too-rare opportunity to hang out with some friends from high school who I never see, because I don't know the host of the evening, despite being good friends with the host's boyfriend all through high school.

I see where she's coming from, and I have no doubt my good friend made every effort to vouch for me under the ciricumstances, so I'm not attacking the people... but the circumstances, at least to me... seem a little unnecessarily imposed. And herein lies the rub: do I think them unnecessary because they are unnecessary, or is it that they are necessary but I just can't wrap my head around it because I'm living my life at a point where those considerations wouldn't even cross my mind as a possibility?

I've been trying my best to rationalize these things as being my fault, and my responsibility, and there's a certain point where I kinda have to step back and say: I had nothing to do with this. I don't decide the rules for admission to a party I'm invited to, nor do I push my friends to not RSVP when I organize something... and these sorts of things are happening far too often from far too many people my age to just be coincidence. That's what I think.

And yet, it's not so simple as just closing the book on everyone I know and starting anew. When I started high school, I was hanging out with guys my age, as well as upper years, and it didn't feel like a huge gap; in University, the same applies... but there's always been huge gaps between each block, that is: High School kids don't hang out lots with University students, and University students don't hang out lots with University grads who are out there making decent bank... which makes a modicum of sense... if you're working for a decent living, you've got way more disposable income and are going to associate with similar individuals, which means it's unlikely for a university student who's busy with school to be able to keep up with that kind of social spending, because they just don't have the money, despite their best intentions.

I get along famously with just about everyone I've worked with at Breakaway, Leisure Tours, and Student City... I've made good impressions, done good work, and it's paid off with renewed and repeated employment at increasingly good pay. When asked, a bunch of my coworkers thought I was 23-25 as opposed to the 20 I was at the time. My point is this: maybe I get along best with people who aren't in university anymore and have moved on to the workforce, so I should stop trying so hard to be social with my school peers when more often than not it doesn't work out...

...which would be easy if I didn't have this problem of only working that job full-time 4 months a year and being in school the other 8... in a nutshell, I'm pretty broke, so I don't have the financial means to keep up with my coworkers socially. But I don't really hang out with my friends from school much because our mindsets are in totally different areas. So this is my catch-22... and all I can say is that the sooner I'm out of it, the better. Suddenly, my decision to reduce my degree to just a regular BA with no honours makes a lot more sense, as does my frustration when my graduation got delayed a semester. So, as Stills put it... I gotta make the best of a less-than-stellar situation... which means correspondence courses wherever possible to minimize my workload, and as much office work and fun as I can handle in Boston and Mississauga in the coming year.

Brian out, a little disappointed in his past, but hopeful for his future once he gets over this damn university hump.

On Cool Shoes, Academy Award Nominees, And Money Money Money!

2006-12-16T19:30:00.000-05:00

So, good things have happened lately. That paper on the Minimax theorem and the 6-hour exam that followed were awful, but I went out for two birthday movies, two birthday dinners, and I found out that I will be working both New Years in Montreal with Breakaway, as well as January and February in Boston, and March-Easter in South Padre, and all those are good things.

A funny anecdote, then, from the past couple days. So, my friend and I are planning to go to Montana for dinner. This is NOT to be confused with Montana's. Montana's is damn good, but Montana is a little bit fancier and has a nightclub in the upstairs. I had a buy one entree get one free coupon(actually, I've got a ton of them... thanks Breakaway!) and given that my 21st birthday was Wednesday evening, my friend and I went down there... to find out they were doing a private function and we couldn't get a table. To which I say, balls.

So, we're walking down Queen St., and I notice the Fluevog store, where they sell all manner of in-house designed, trendy, shoes at not-retarded prices. And I notice two people, one who's just walking in, and another waving him in from the cold and greeting him. At first I thought he was an employee of the store being friendly, and he certainly looked the part in a black turtleneck and glasses and such things that you would expect a trendy shoe store staffer to wear.

Then I realised it was prolific Academy Award Nominated Canadian filmmaker Atom Egoyan. And then my friend and I laughed at the juxtaposition of arugably one of Canada's biggest celebrities selling shoes. We seriously considered going in their and treating him like a staffer, asking him what he'd recommend for something trendy but not too flashy... and then saying, "Wait a sec. Aren't you acclaimed Canadian director Atom Egoyan?" Then we realised that acting in such a manner would've been perhaps be a little uncalled for, and without a video camera to capture the awkwardness, the payoff would be rather small. We did chuckle about it for quite some time though, much as we chuckled about the mob stereotypes all gathered outside the Corned Beef House, hurling obscenities at each other in Jersey accents, which really made no sense. I mean, there's no shortage of Mafia here in Toronto, so I find myself wondering why these guys needed to sound like they were on The Sopranos.

Anyway, went for dinner and beers and I ordered a 10 dollar margarita that came with a shot of Grand Marnier on the side. It was nice.

My favorite part of the holidays is how remorselessly I can haemmorage money without a thought. I got all my Christmas shopping done yesterday, which was nice. But working New Years, and Boston, and Padre... well, it'll all work out quite nicely.

Now I just gotta hope that course I bombed isn't a total wash... Brian Out.

On War Fatigue, Procrastination, and The Need For A Hero

2006-12-10T21:26:00.000-05:00

I have 20-odd pages to write on John Von Neumann's Minimax Theorem and its applications in two-person constant-sum game theory that I really don't feel like writing right now, so you're all on tap to get a hefty dose of Brianomics. Brace yourselves.

I was reading the Star today as I snacked on Chicken Strips and cold fries(I ate a ton of food today, which I always do when I've got a ton of work to do... I can't be distracted with a rumbly stomach) and they had an article on the growing similarities between Iraq and Vietnam. Now, I like to think of myself as being relatively in favour of the war in Iraq. That's not to say I support what's going on there --- it's a clusterfuck of epic proportions. But I do maintain that had things been done properly, taking out a ruthless dictator with a past history of ethnic genocide wouldn't have been such a bad idea. Of course, things were done badly from the planning stages and only got worse from there, so it turned into the previously mentioned clusterfuck... anyway, my personal opinion on the conflict isn't really relevant. There was one passage in this article that caught my eye:

...there will be an "Iraq Syndrome," he stresses — just as there was a "Vietnam Syndrome" that followed the Vietnam War, a cooling period during which Americans will be loath to endorse the kind of "forceful foreign policy" that leads to expensive and bloody military adventures. Prof. John Mueller of Ohio State University agrees. He says the syndrome will take hold "big time." In fact, it's already taking hold."The attitude to North Korea has mellowed, even when they exploded a weapon," he notes. "As for Iran, the idea of (America) doing anything militarily seems to be declining."

Now, I have no doubt that a lot of people think this is a good thing, that America will be humbled by its experiences in Iraq and will be far more hesitant to act in such a way again. And I share their hope that America never again engages in a war for which it is so profoundly ill-prepared. But now, arguably more than ever... the world needs an America that's willing to drop the gloves. That's not to say that America should stay in Iraq, in fact... I think a speedy exit is the best course of action at this point. Because if push ever comes to shove with Iran or North Korea, the world is going to need the kind of firepower that only America has. And if America's still in Iraq or unwilling to fight because of Iraq when that time comes... we're in a very bad place.

I could write a hell of a lot more on the Middle East, but I do need to get back to writing my paper. I just wanted to get this written down before the inspiration left me.

On Lonelygirl15, Podcasting, and Missed Opportunities

2006-12-04T10:30:00.000-05:00

So I, apparently a good 6 months behind the times, finally looked into this Lonelygirl15 thing. If you don't want to read the wiki article, basically some people crafted a narrative involving teen lust, the occult, and crazy overprotective parents, and then started doling it out, piece by piece, in the form of Youtube video blog entries by a girl named, cleverly enough, "lonelygirl15". Now, I had heard fleeting mentions of this around the net for the past few months and never really cared enough to follow up on it. But then, last night, she wins a Vh1 award and well, I can't not pursue something once Vh1's endorsed it. I'm kinda pathetic like that.

Anyway, I find out about this, and I'm suddenly a little disappointed with myself... I had an idea just like this in the fall of 2004 when podcasting really started to take off. I even went so far as to record a first audio episode and posting it to openpodcast.org, a site which is now rather defunct... I might still have the notes at home, and if I do I'll post them up when I go back to Ottawa in two weeks... but this is really neat.

I'm not taking credit from them or anything, obviously they followed through on the idea where I couldn't given the tech of late 2004. My inability to scrounge up enough resources to really go for it on the scale of what these guys have done... well, that didn't help either.

So kudos, lonelygirl15, for taking a cool idea and running with it. Seeing your success makes me think my crazy ideas may yet have merit.

On Addiction To Gambling, Celebration, And Cohibas

2006-11-29T01:08:00.000-05:00

It's time for me to reveal one of my pet peeves. From time to time, I play online poker. Now, I never play for money online, and I know it's nowhere near as fun as playing with real people for countless reasons... but when I'm just putzing around and have nothing better to do, it's something to while away the time. Now, people playing online with play money hardly behave like realistic opponents in any table game. They play loose as hell, seeing every flop unless you raise them. And that's okay. Makes it wasy to win as long as you don't take too many bad beats. But there's these guys who just lose, over and over again. And that's not in and of itself a bad thing. But eventually they run out of chips.

Now, a quick primer for those who don't know how play money online poker works: you lose all your chips, and you basically just click a button to regain your play money. But, to retain some semblance of competition, usually the max amount you can "rebuy" is a fraction of the initial table buyin, i.e. if people normally start at the table with 2000, and you run out of chips, you might be able to reup to 100. Now, if you're playing responsibly, with some time and patience, you could work that 100 up to 2000 or more, no sweat. But these fuckheads go all-in on every hand, rebuying that same 100 every hand, and generally messing with the other people at the table trying to play in a competent manner.

But here's the thing: not only does this behaviour show a phenomenal ineptitude at poker, it's downright concerning when these guys will lose all their play money over and over and over again only to pound that rebuy button. They're not walking away when they lose... I guess it's good these guys are playing for play money because I suspect their credit cards would be drained in seconds if they were playing for reals. Anyway, I can't help but think maybe these onlie gaming sites might have a popup after the third or fourth rebuy, saying something like "seriously dude, you're losing a lot. We'll give you more play money if you take a break for a while."

Actually, that may be the solution, you know? Tie play-money distribution to time... you can only rebuy once every 24 hours, or something like that. Hm.

Anyway, since we're on the topic of poker, I'm thinking of having a poker night in recognition of my birthday... nothing crazy in terms of the stakes or anything, but cards, money, drinking, and potentially cigars will ensue.

Now, I'm torn about how to go about this... because I kinda want it to be big. I'm turning 21, which is not an insignificant year, and my past few birthdays were decent, but I want to go for spectacular this year.

Brian Turns 18: Me, two friends, an animation show, and an arcade. Childish as it sounds, my mother was not in attendance.

Brian Turns 19: I invite a ton of people to a restaurant so we can all have a big dinner and such. It was a total bust, not a single person showed, and I didn't even get carded when I ordered pint after pint. I drink myself to the point where I posted on my blog of the time, "If I ever meet Adam Brody, I will hug him." Interestingly enough, I did meet Adam Brody about 9 months later. I did not hug him.

Brian Turns 20: Me and a dozen friends go to Silk Lounge. It's an okay joint, but got a little lame as the night went on. In the end, went to Pizza Pizza and came home.

So this year, I want to pull out all the fucking stops. I just have this niggling fear that no one much cares for my stop-pulling ways. I suspect that if I try for something big again, it's just going to be a big bust, much like the past couple karaoke nights I've tried organizing. So, getting drunk and playing cards is, in my opinion, probably the best I can hope for. It's either that, or going bowling.

And while I want there to be this nice synergy of bowling, drinking, poker, and cigars... I'm not entirely sure how it would work out. Bowling and drinking are easy to do. Hell, for that extra awesome, I'll see if I can get the alley to play classic Bob Dylan and drink nothing but White Russians. Poker and cigars are a little trickier to do right. Ultimately, a nicely accoutered basement with a poker table, leather seating, and an attractive woman bringing us snacks and snowracers while we all puff on stogies and play cards is the goal... and I know right from the outset that that ain't happening, not even close.

So, I'm thinking a bowling night, a poker night, and saving the cigar until New Years in Montreal(because in Montreal, no one gives a fuck if you smoke indoors).

On Cell Phones, YouTube, and Bad Teachers

2006-11-27T16:21:00.000-05:00

Now, this story particularly interests me because it deals with a number of things I care about: education, my hometown, getting in shit for posting things online, and YouTube. If you don't want to read the whole story, a little background... at a school in the Outaouais (sp?) which is the Quebec side of Ottawa, one kid baited their teacher into snapping at them while another recording the whole incident on a cell phone, where it was later posted to YouTube. The teacher is now on stress leave, both kids were suspended indefinitely, and the school board in question had the clips removed from YouTube.

Now, I think that recording and posting clips of an incompetent teacher is a rather smart way to take them down. And not only that, I think these teachers need to be taken down. I've had far too many bad instructors that quite frankly, I wished I could get the word out on. What happened here, in principle, was no different than what takes place on sites like www.ratemyprofessors.com, only hyper-sensationalized for mass consumption. A teacher screaming at their students on video, instantly embeddable on your blog, myspace, livejournal, or what have you... speaks louder than the typed word ever could.

However, the entire incident was planned, set up, and staged by the students, and that's where the morality of the thing becomes cloudy. Obviously no one told this teacher they were being filmed, and certainly the reactions caught on camera weren't rehearsed. As much as I believe in public disclosure and accountability for these sorts of things, it's all too easy to set someone up to take a fall, and that's what this reeks of. I've seen teachers flip out. I've seen students get pretty damn shaken and wish they had the opportunity to strike back. And now, more than ever, that opportunity is available. But with it comes the responsibility to engage in fair reporting.

Now, let's draw a really easy and recent comparison where people were on camera, being finessed into revealing less than ideal sides of themselves, with the filmmakers intending to release the stuff for mass conumption... but where the victims had full knowledge they were being filmed. I'm talking, of course, about Borat. The movie's funny as hell, but there's some really unsettling moments when people say some really prejudiced and horrible things, and they knew full well that this was video intended for public consumption. At least we can suss out that the intent of Borat was to entertain, and not to brutally shame these not-so-innocent people(although pending lawsuits seem to suggest otherwise).

So how do the two correlate? Teachers, every day, go in front of their students and perform to the best of their ability, and god bless them for it. But just because we, as society, appreciate the hell out of them, doesn't make them immune to criticism. Staging a takedown of a teacher with the intent to destroy their reputation is wrong, no doubt about it. And what these kids in Quebec did was wrong. However, I propose that the wrongness of their actions were not in the actions themselves, but in the intent, the setup, the provocation. Bad teachers always reveal themselves, and it is students' opportunity to get the word out about them. New technologies make that easier than ever. But with the opportunity to do the right thing brings with it the responsibility to do it the right way.

I Love Procrastinating.

2006-11-25T23:00:00.000-05:00

So, I finally bit the bullet and started a blog on blogger... which after god knows how long on livejournal and facebook and all the other sites... isn't likely to become my main outlet.

This is going to be where I put the interesting and psuedo-meaningful stuff, stories, adventures, those sorts of things. Because of that, I may not post as much as I would on... various other sites, where I'll just throw shit up because I think it's funny. But hopefully, you'll find my somewhat concrete thoughts here amusing, enlightening, or at least worth reading.

Enjoy.