Moods

Have you ever noticed how your mood can be affected by what would seem to be the oddest things?

The smell of dead leaves in crisp decay is an upper. Being helplessly ignored is vaguely guilt-inducing. Listening to I Got a Name by Jim Croce makes me nostalgic, although nostalgic for what is a good question.

When I was half dozing on my way to work last night, someone brushed by wearing perfume that smelled of oranges and cream. That's a satisfying smell. :)

The smell of slightly chilled cardboard and long-chain monomers shifts my mood to anticipation. Mmmmm, fresh electronics!

Certain books, with certain kinds of paper and certain types of binding smell gross when you open them, and that often induces hunger. Sometimes they smell comfortably dusty. And sometimes they smell so good, that you don't care how hackneyed the book actually is.

I've heard it mentioned many times that smell is the sense that is most tied to long term memory. And in the past month or so, with my view has narrowed so much and my focus mainly on myself, my always-good sense of smell has been sending me on trips through my own history, and not always the accurate one.

I wore one of my leather jackets the other day. I'd forgotten how much they weigh and creak. But the smell once it warmed to my body... I remember trotting along the road towards Mac's with the snow falling, with Shumway and Tursi and the Wizard of Id. That was a different jacket back then, but the memory came back with the smell of the cold, and the crunch of newly fallen snow. And thirteen years just melted away. That was the first time I'd met Tursi, btw.

I was on patrol last night and was checking in one of the bathrooms where they'd had an earlier leakage from a hot water tank in the drop ceiling. That hot-chlorinated-water-condensed-on-the-walls smell took me back to the changerooms in junior high, where I was small and a target and out of the sight (and the protection that conferred) of the teacher. And then, even further back, to the boy's bathroom in Lord Baden Powell elementary school where peeing became a bonding experience between young boys in a room that their teacher wasn't even allowed in.

I was remembering being young, and that led to thinking of other smells which opened other snippets of memory. I thought of the smell of good bacon bits in a large container, taking me back to Toronto (Scarborough actually) where I used to live as a boy, and going to Mother Tucker's restaurant there on a visit back. And the (from my perspective, now) incredibly hideous decor that that place had in the seventies.

I remember the smells of talc and Johnson's baby shampoo from when my new brother came home from being born. And I remember the smell of my mom's fear after he'd pulled something heavy enough to make him bleed down on his head.

I smelled where a cat had sprayed to mark its territory, and it got me thinking of when I used to read books by Larry Niven. Then he opened up his Known Space universe for other authors to write about the Man-Kzin wars, and I used to read those too. Those would detail the family life of sentients that evolved not from primates, but from plains cats. The books would describe how the kittens would feel when they smelled their sire nearby, a fear/love sort of thing, in reaction to the dominance pheromones that he'd be pumping out.

It reminded me of the smell of cigarettes and (closer in) the smell of beer that used to always be on my dad.

I had a Barq's from the vending machine at work, and the carbonation seemed especially harsh. That reminded me of the first time I actually bought Coke. It was when I was spending the night at a friend's in high school and that was his drink of preference. I always preferred grape or orange or cream soda - stuff like that. But he wanted Coke and so I bought a six-pack. The rasping acid burn on the tongue, the grating in the throat, the coated feeling on the roof of my mouth and tongue... it was so distinct. And, oddly, it felt grown up.

I remember how good someone smelled when she put on Angel perfume, and then later smelling it on other people in public and how it smelled different on them.

I remember the smell of oil and steel, coming from the toolkit my dad used to take to work at IBM. I used to always want to carry that bag the few meters from where he left it to the car, and even with two hands and a crazy lean I could barely do better than drag it.

That kit is mine now, and when Tursi (and Foxxfire) was nice enough to pick me up at the bus station and drive me home to Summerland in the cool of a January night, that smell was very sharp.

I'm always going to associate the smell of blackened chicken strips with friends and belonging and an endless summer in 1995.

I remember the smell of cream of wheat, the first (and only) time I remember having it. As I lined up to have it doled out, I saw how watery it was and wondered what it would be like. It had too neutral a smell for me to detect much in the way of nutrients in it.

On a nearby table, I saw all of the condiment tubes were full of white sugar (none too sweet white sugar, either), and that everybody was mixing copious amounts of it into their bowls. I tasted mine first. And dumped a bunch of sugar in.

I remember thinking, "People can go and survive a day fueled only by this stuff? Sheesh!" That didn't stop me from having seconds. It was better than letting my ribs touch my spine.

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All the kids shooting off bottle rockets outside is making wish I was back on Sidney Avenue with nothing better to do on Halloween than to go out and blast off a few of those myself, along with some dancing devils. Later I could go watch the neighbourhood fireworks, write my name in the air with a sparkler or two, and drink juice from a box. After that I could go home, eat some leftover candy, and watch tv.

Enough of that. Rickets' fiance passed on that Ghost in the Shell 2 was coming out soon a month or two ago, and another (she doesn't have a handle that I think of her by, so she gets alluded to instead) send me the link today that shows that it's playing in town here. Who's going to go with me? Because I've always had some serious affection for the first one. :)

Candy, deceptive candy...

So I'm doing my rounds last night, and since it was after the last weekday before Halloween, there was candy a-plenty to be found throughout the various offices I patrol. Big communal bowls of it.

I'm only human. ;)

So as I'd pass a bowl, I'd occasionally snag myself a mini chocolate bar, or some rockets, or whatever. Always in moderation of course.

But... I do patrols several times per night. And each of those little pieces probably ended up to several kilograms of overall sugar fun. I felt gross. :P

The worst part is that I'll probably do it again tonight. I'm the rat that keeps getting shocked, that's for sure. ;)

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I was browsing some of my old text files, and I found this lovely gem:

Dr Seuss Explains Why Computers Crash

If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,
and the bus is interrupted at a very last resort,
and the access of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,
then the socket packet pocket has an error to report.

If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,
and the double-clicking icon puts your window in the trash,
and your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,
then your situation's hopeless and your system's gonna crash!!!

If the label on the cable on the table at your house
says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,
but your packets want to tunnel to another protocol,
that's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall,
and your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss,
so your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,
then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,
'cus sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang.

When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy in the disk,
and the macro code instructions cause unnecessary risk,
then you'll have to flash the memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM.
Quickly turn off the computer and be sure to tell your Mom!!


Any questions?

Ooh, like Ravenloft!

I don't really have anything to say today. Big change, huh?

As I was heading to work last night, there was just the faintest spatter of rain, and a touch of mist. Not enough that you could actually see fog, but just enough to make all the electric lights shimmer.

I like the rain. Especially at night. I like how the wet ground reflects all the lights, and the vapour in the air lends everything a fantasy look, like it's something that's looming out at you from a silly book involving magic and elves.

And I like living in a city where it rains. Reminds me of Blade Runner, where Decker is eating his noodles at a booth. I loved the whole tableau, and I love it here.

Happy happy, joy joy.

Election Day guide for United Statesians

I cheerfully stole this from The Onion right here. But since clicking is such a pain in the ass, read on:

Tuesday is Election Day. Here are some pointers to keep in mind when heading to the polls:

• If at all possible, vote before work. That way, you can make smug comments to non-voters all day long.
• The new electronic voting machines are complicated. But don't worry: Octogenarians will be on hand to troubleshoot any technological problems that might arise.
• If your election official hooks you up to a machine via a needle in your arm, you are actually donating blood.
• Tip for those on the go: Voting a straight ticket can save you up to 15 seconds.
• Remember that, as a member of a participatory democracy, you have a duty to make your voice heard on - Election Day. If you find that idea hard to grasp, think of it like the lotto: You can't win if you don't play.
• Don't wear dress shoes. They leave black scuff marks on gymnasium floors.
• Voting is no longer considered uncool. Note that it is not cool, either.
• Many newspapers offer sample ballots. Buy 10 copies and practice, practice, practice.
• Remember to vote, or P. Diddy will kill you.
• This is one of the most important elections in recent times, so it's best if you just leave it up to the pros.
• When voting, you don't need to dress up in a scary costume or hand out candy. That happens two days earlier.
• You might think it's funny, but it's disrespectful to submit write-in candidates like "Don Knotts," "Mickey Mouse," or "Michael Badnarik."
• Remember to take the day off to vote. And the day before, to psyche up. And the morning after, to dry out.
• If you are black and a resident of Florida, work out two or three alternate routes to your polling place to avoid police checkpoints.
• The most important thing is to vote your conscience.
• Okay, this is your conscience speaking: "Vote Nader. Vo-o-o-o-ote Nader."
• If you are a Flintstone, make sure to put the granite slab arrows-first into the dinosaur's mouth.
• If you live in Florida, for Christ's sake, look at the ballot very, very carefully this time.
• Education is the issue Americans say is most important. Find someone with one of those to read the ballot to you.
• Keep in mind that the name of every person who votes against George Bush is going to be read aloud on television the next time we're attacked by terrorists.
• If you don't know where the polling place is in your district, just try to remember the ugliest, dingiest, most depressing building in a three-mile radius. That's probably it.

What To Bring

Remember to bring proper identification to the polls. This can be:

• Driver's license or your chauffeur
• Passport and photos of your boyfriend in Paris
• SuperVoter discount card
• Note from president
• Proof that your grandfather voted
• Retinal scan or your alderman's retinas
• Two Iraqi scalps
• Receipt for your shoes
• Videotape of your first steps
• Halliburton employee ID
• Birthday card from grandmother
• Pint of sperm for DNA-identification purposes
• Casserole dish to pass
• A good friend who can totally vouch for you
• Signed $20 bill
• Autographed celebrity photo inscribed with your name

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And now, my opinions on the upcoming election and various bits that I feel like picking on.

You folks south of the border, I feel sorry for you. Despite a lack of a real choice at the polls, you have to go and poke holes in paper or use those random number generators (oops, are those called touch screen voting stations?) and basically decide if you want Bush, or no Bush.

The answer, obviously, is no Bush. But I'm not sure that Kerry is going to be all that shit-hot either. Mind you, based solely on the three debates I watched, Kerry would be my pick.

Number one - you guys need to do something about your foreign policy. Seriously, you're pissing people off something awful. And no, they're not jealous of you. Possibly a good rule of thumb for how you you interact with other nations is this: if you'd be pissed off if another country did it to you, then don't do it.

This means if you wouldn't want North Korea to be spending money to influence your election, you ought not to be doing it there. Simple enough?

The Kyoto Accords. What, in fact, is the big problem? You guys have 5% of the world's population, and better than 25% of the world's pollution stinks its way out from your borders. Sheesh! Even Russia signed on to Kyoto!

Granted, it's not like they're ever going to inspect anything and post their numbers, but at least it's a start!

Oh, and the World Court. I can understand why you wouldn't want to sign on to that. You have stepped on a lot of toes over the years, and it's those limping people with the squished feet and the long memories that might be standing in judgement. Makes sense that you wouldn't put your people in a position to be judged with consequences. See the above suggestion on how to run your foreign policy.

Now, as much as this is going to smack of socialism (which in recent months I've learned is a dirty word to many of those in the fifty States), have a listen on how to be somewhat better world citizens:

You guys are wealthy. Wealthy. But that isn't all due to hard work and blessings from above. Time to pay back your fellow man. You give aid and money to all sorts of places. That's fantastic, don't stop. But looking at your wealth per capita versus your foreign aid per capita, you're coming up way short compared to your contemporaries.

But charity starts at home, doesn't it? With all of that fabulous wealth, there are people who are hungry and can't afford a place with both a roof and heat. Fix that. Like, now-ish.

Now, forgive all of that foreign debt. You don't need the money, and it's really just penalizing people that aren't ever going to be able to pay it off. Or rather, their non-representational governments pass the cost on to their citizens with remarkably little to show for it. Since when is it cool for you to steal pennies from a homeless guy's hat?

Still with me? Really? No way can you be from the US. ;)

Stop expanding your military. Use what you have more effectively. That does not include "pre-emptive strikes against potential aggressors". Meaning, you don't get to level and invade a country that might someday bring a grenade to the doors of your consulate.

To hell with NAFTA. That's effectively worked out to be money flowing into the US from Canada and Mexico. The "Free" part refers to how well the one-way wealth flows. Pursue Fair Trade instead. Look it up if you're unfamiliar with the concept. My brother Rickets turned me on to the idea, and I like that the theory is that the people that produce are the ones who make the money. Radical, eh?

Capital punishment. For a country that often identifies itself as Christian, I don't know how it became okay to kill people when it's not self defense. That's not punishment, that's vengeance. That's revenge. Grow up, you're not on the playground anymore. Those people you're executing are products of your country and your culture. If you're going to make them, then you have to live with them. If they're actually mentally ill, then they're sick and you don't kill people who need medical treatment. Capiche?

Abortion. Women were having abortions before it was legal. That put the woman in danger. Let the women go to doctors please. If they have a partner, of course the partner gets an opinion. But the final decision rests with the woman. You don't get to make that decision for her.

However, abortion shouldn't be used in lieu of condoms, birth control pills, Depo shots, or the multudinous other birth control methods that are cheap and easily available. Don't be so lazy, buy some freaking rubbers! If you've used protection and somehow still ended up in a family way, you haven't been lazy. Exercise whatever option is best for you.

People of "non-traditional" sexual orientation. They're just people like the rest of us. Marriage (regardless of what you call it) is a contract between two people. If both parties are legally able to sign a contract, then they ought to be able to get married. That's a government-accepted marriage I'm talking about of course. If your local church (as a private organization) doesn't want to marry certain people, that's up to the church. It may suck, but it's as fair as you deciding not to include carrots the next time you offer a vegetable platter to your guests. Nice comparison, eh? :)

Health care. I'm in Canada, and even though we're staggering under the financial costs of maintaining our system, we still want it. Sure, we'd like aspects of how it's run to be changed, but I doubt there's many that would want national healthcare abolished. You guys really ought to consider not making health so much of a business.

Mind you, I don't buy bottled water for the same reason - because people can't live without water and thus it shouldn't be a commodity. It's not a luxury item after all.

Gun control. Lose the concept of allowing people to carry concealed. No automatic weapons or wacky ammunition either. In fact, I'd be delighted if you got rid of pistols of all sorts. You're not hunting deer with those, you wacky nuts. When your murder-via-gun per capita rate comes down to a less unreasonable level, you can have your toys back.

Wow, this rant went on and on, and wasn't amusing or even insightful. Sorry about that, and feel free to tell me how wrong I am via comments. :)

Tuesday nights - not just for the vertically challenged anymore

Since I hadn't seen my brother or his slime-loving SO for several weeks, I tripped into town to nod hello.

True to form, bro (to be referred to as 'Rickets' for the rest of this post) was a bit on the late side. I assume Rickets was artfully arranging his hair and eating several sandwiches when he should have been walking to meet me at the theatre. ;)

Rickets and I saw Shaun of the Dead. And it was entertaining. It moved at a good pace, had suitably quirky characters, and laughed at itself enough that I didn't get to pick it to pieces. If you're looking for something to see, don't want to think much, and want to smirk... this is for you.

After that, we went back to their place and I played Prince of Persia on the X-box. It's interesting, it kind of reminded me of when Tomb Raider first came out, although it's a bit more obviously linear. They did a good job with small details like rusty dust puffing off when you jumped to hang from a horizontal flagpole, for instance.

However, the repeated cinematics got a bit old. Like every time you finish a fight, it plays a clip where you sheathe your weapons, with wind blowing in your hair anime-style. But the game seemed fun, what I played of it.

I've got to make more time to do social-esque stuff. It's not like I have a career I'm concentrating on, after all. :P

In other news, somebody appears to have stopped talking to me. I know it's not my breath, and it can't be my personality since I'm no more obnoxious than I ever was, so I'm hoping that it's just a mix-up and I haven't actually offended them.

So if you're reading this, pretty please with sugar on top... drop me a line. M'kay? :)

My mighty brain... she hath failed me!

It happens. You choose a course of action but only after you've carefully failed to consider all available data. Or, as in my case, you just didn't think.

I wear boots to work, black polishable ones. The thing I do that you're not supposed to do is have steel toed and shanked ones. I got them before I knew it was a no-no, and I'm keeping them, damn it. I'll just have to be careful not to kick anybody.

Anyway, they're seriously waterproof. So get this: I tend to have my shower in the hour or so before I leave for work. Often, I'm still slightly damp when I get dressed for work and leave. I walk, ride the bus, stand around, ride another bus, grab the Skytrain, then walk a ways to get to work. That semi-constant motion (in weather that isn't quite cool enough to maintain a comfortable temperature) makes me sweat a bit. Including, it seems, my feet.

I noticed this the other day when I was getting ready for work - I stuck a hand into my boots and found the top of them near the toe was just marginally damp. Now, I'm not worried about the discomfort, but I certainly don't want anything growing in there and stinking up the place.

So while I was at work, after I'd done a few patrols, I realized that I'd be essentially sitting on my butt for a period of time and there was this electric baseboard heater at one end of the room I was in. Since electric heat is so dry (as evidenced by my aching eyes), I figured I'd pop off the boots, loosen the laces wide so I can slam my feet back into them if there's an emergency, and put my boots on top of this thing to dry them out. Solid plan, right?

Right.

The boots dried out, no problem. They were on there for nearly half an hour, so they were good and dry in the toes. Then I slid them on.

Do you remember reading back at the start of this that there is some steel construction in my shoes? Yup, and that steel was remembering the heat, and wanted to reminisce with me about it.

The toe wasn't too bad, but the steel plate under the sole (to stop nails or syringes from poking me after I foolishly step on them) was. Have you ever read the original story for Cinderella, before people prettied it up for the kiddies? There's a pair of iron shoes in it that are heated up in the fire, and Cinderella's nasty stepmother is forced into them and dances until she dies.

I can relate.

Wow, a whole post about my boots. Tomorrow, my colon!

I'm heading off to visit with my brother and my future sister-in-law. We might eat a little food, watch a little movie, play a little X-box. It'll be nice to do something semi-social before I completely forget how to do it.

Punks and hilarity

Hilarity first - I was browsing in the bookstore the other day looking for something I can read at work (since graveyard involves a lot of thumb-sitting) and on the back of one novel, as it was describing the various folk that the protagonist would meet, it mentioned a micropaleontologist.

"What's that?" you ask?

Simple. It's a scientist that examines the evolutional implications of the past ten minutes. *Helpless laughter*

Now the punks: I take transit to work, so as I'm standing by the first bus stop in the rain at a little past 2200, I see some cars (three in all) make a right turn onto the highway I'm standing on, but they're driving in the bus lane! Must be confused.

Until I hear "FUCK YOU!" and things start being thrown from all three cars at me. Gah! Fortunately, they're just teenagers and don't have experience with throwing things from moving vehicles, as they fail to compensate for their forward momentum and everything they throw sails harmless past me.

I didn't actually figure out for sure what they were throwing at me, as behind me there's a ditch for it all to fall into, but one of them managed to hit the trashcan next to me, and it thudded nice and solidly. I think that one was a McDonalds drink.

Daffy kids - I think when I get off work tomorrow I'm going to head down to Chinatown, buy some bottle rockets, and see if I'm fast enough to light one off and get it through their open window the next time they try that. ;)

I might add that after that, at work, nothing happened. That's getting to be a habit, I'll have to watch that.

It did rain overnight in near biblical proportions though. Even when the wind died down, it still took some effort to push through the curtain of water. How glad am I that I work inside? Glad.

Team America: World Police - love it or lukewarm?

WARNING - minor spoilers possible.

So I went to see this movie the other day. And I wasn't overly impressed. It reminded me of South Park when they brought in the Jackovasaurus. Just a general disappointment.

Mind you, by the time the movie had started I had already been up for 25 hours, but I was feeling pretty alert so I don't think that had much to do with my opinion. Also, the theatre was almost deserted (not more then twenty people, tops) so there wasn't a lot of energy in the room.

But I can distinctly remember laughing only twice. Once was at the theme song for this movie which plays at various times. It goes, and I quote: "A-mer-i-ca.... FUCK YEAH! A-mer-i-ca.... FUCK YEAH!". It's played at the best times too. :)

The other time was when the main protagonist, Gary, goes on a bender and ends up puking in an alley afterwards. It was cheap, predictable, and I found myself giggling. I'm sure this stunts my growth as a human being, but who cares?

I'd like to add the the much-advertised sex scene was also amusing, and it's much what I would have done if I'd been the one making the movie. The guy sitting in front of me in the theatre with the two girls stopped breathing during it, he was laughing so hard. They were literally pounding him on the back to bring him back to life. THAT was amusing.

Anyway, the movie was kind of disappointing to me. Go see it, rent it, download it, or whatever else you like. But don't pay full price. The best part of it all was getting my Reece's Pieces and blue slush and sitting in the room watching the previews. My appetite got re-whetted for the superhero one coming out from Pixar soon. Rest assured you'll hear a complaint about it too. :)

Since the way's been paved...

... I can easily take the road more travelled.

Wouldn't it be nice if I had something to say? Sadly, I've been working as a security officer (read: guard) on the graveyard shift in a secure building with no ethical problems or phat lewt to steal. What does this mean?

Boredom, my friend. Sheer unadulterated boredom. Hmmm, adultery. Gotta get me some of that!

An example of the level of boredom: last week I got to write on my report a single out-of-the-ordinary event. Over the weekend, but before my shift, some staffer had apparently brought in their dog. How do I know? Because at 0130 in the shadowy dark I found a puddle. And a few meters off, a lump.

We're not talking cancer, we're talking about a person so dumb that not only do they bring their dog into an office, they let the animal run around and turn the carpet into a latrine.

And they don't clean it up.

Anyway, that was the most exciting thing that happened at work this week. Let the good times roll!

Beyond that, I've got zip going on. Perhaps some potential interesting happenings coming up in a month or so, but I'll bide my time and see how it pans out. You know how it is, you talk about something that sounds good that's coming up and thusly jinx it. I don't want to jinx anything. Call me a coward, or call me Ismael. I ain't saying squat.