Hermit

So with Christmas comes loneliness. At least it does if you're like me and your stupid housemates decide they want to spend holidays with their families (italics in this case indicate a snivelly, nasal tone reserved for mocking someone for choosing something pansy-like [ballet, let's say] over something manly-like [Ultimate Fighting, per se]). They chose family instead of chillin' like a villain with me at Casa Bairstowaway with me. So, here is the complete list of things I have done in my utter solitude these last two weeks at home:

*Cleaned my room
*Cleaned bathroom
*Vacuumed living room
* four loads of laundry (including bedsheets)
* Watched the entire Star Wars trilogy (not end to end, but in my proudest moment I spent the tail-end of Christmas Eve watching Return Of The Jedi after church. Stupid Ewoks).
* Thus inspired, played through and beat Jedi Knight II: Jedi Academy for X-Box (on Jedi Knight difficulty. I've only ever beat it on Padawan before).
* Played the longest game of online Scrabble ever with Paddy (it's been like the full two weeks)
* Learned how to play "Brick" by Ben Folds Five, "Breakaway" by Kelly Clarkson, and "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley on guitar
* Watched the Conan O'Brien 10th anniversary DVD my brother got me for Christmas
* Watched The Commitments
* Watched Ocean's Thirteen
* Watched various episodes of Scrubs and The Office
* Made a survey about "An Acoustic/Indie Christmas" on createsurvey.com and had fun cross referencing the results
* Wrote rambling blog about car thieves and why I stole thumbtacks from Zellers
* Made nachos
* Made Kraft Dinner (2x)
* Ate a whole box of Mini-Wheats
* Made banana-orange smoothies
* Watched and re-watched videos of "An Acoustic/Indie Christmas" so as to over-analyze my harmonies and facial expressions

I think that covers it.

Word of the Year

Can you guess what it is?

A little message

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
Bets wishes to all of ye during Christmas. Hopefully you can all enjoy it with your family and friends.

Why I Should Never Be On A Jury (or, Kerry Is No Better Than A Car Thief)

I have a new obsession. Over the last couple of days I've watched every video on http://www.baitcar.com/. Allow me to explain. British Columbia has the highest rate of auto theft in Canada. To combat theft, the police have started placing "bait cars" in high risk areas. When a bait car gets snatched, the police can remotely cut the engine at any time, making it easy to catch the offenders. Baitcar.com posts videos of these offenders as they steal the car, converse, and occasionally smoke crack until the engine is cut, when they invariably freak out (actually, it's not invariably; there's one where a guy starts reading a book, waiting for the police to call him out of the car. You have to be impressed by that kind of stoicism). A lot of the videos are played for laughs, including one where the theives joke about how funny it would be if they wound up on baitcar.com (while assuring themselves that the car they lifted is too "teenager-ed out" to be bait).

I'd like to say that the process has been educational, but it hasn't. Aside from a new verb ("gumping", the meaning of which I have yet to grasp) I haven't learned much. I had high hopes that maybe I would get a small glimpse into what drives (HIYO) these people to steal. Baitcar correctly identifies the link between drug use and car theft, but that wasn't quite what I was looking for. Drugs are the end that these people have chosen. I was wondering why they chose stealing cars as their means.

I'll be honest: I have stolen. When I was around 13 I had a summer of petty theft that was ridiculous. I stole stuff I wanted, like magazines, tapes (which were way easier to steal than CDs), video games and chocolate bars. I also stole stuff I didn't want just for the thrill of it: shoelaces, coin rolls, and at one high point, a box of thumbtacks (which I only just recently threw away). I understand the rush of stealing something, but for some reason there is a marked difference between stealing what I stole and stealing a car, and it's something besides the obvious fact that a car costs a lot more than a box of thumbtacks (unless, of course, you drive a Geo).

Honestly, and this is something I'm not particularly proud of, what makes what I did more acceptable in my mind is the difference between stealing from someone and stealing from something. If I steal a car, I'm stealing from a person (like me). If I steal from a store, I'm (more than likely) stealing from a corporation. And this is what I'll never understand about car thieves, or muggers, or home invaders: how they can so brazenly impose their will on another person and not feel bad about it (or at least, bad enough to stop what they're doing; I do plenty of things I feel bad about, just not bad enough). Do they not think about the inconvienience, the sense of impotence, the fear they put into people? What safety valve in their brain do they close off in order to allow themselves to take a car, a wallet, a television? That's what I was hoping to discover on Baitcar: the root of a car thief's self-entitlement.

I guess what I have learned is that I do not have a perfect compass of morality. I have personally committed the same act as the people on these videos and even though I understand why both my and their acts are wrong, I still do not understand why they do it as opposed to why I did it. There are a lot of reasons I did what I did, none of them any good. Sometimes it was becuase I was hungry (or, I should say, the North American suburban teenager version of hungry, where I casually wanted something to eat because I wanted it), because I was bored, or because I couldn't afford something I wanted. And I've seen some similar reason on Baitcar: some guys were going to strip it for parts to sell, some guys needed to get somewhere, and one guy even did it so he could give a buddy a lift home. Just because I can say with (relative) safety that I wouldn't or couldn't do what the people on the site do doesn't mean that I am free or clear, or better than they are. I have just as much self-entitlement as they do; I just express it differently (mostly by imposing music on people in the car, but in other ways too). If I wanted to be super philo-ma-sophical, I could ask if having a car means you have a sense of entitlement to that car, but considering that generally someone has paid for you to have that car, that entitlement is somewhat earned.

My point is, I think I was hoping to identify and discover what the difference is between me and the people of Baitcar, and since the only difference i could find isn't really a difference except in the way I react to it, there isn't much difference. I can either try to deny those feelings of self-entitlement, or I can start getting good with a screwdriver and find me a sweet Lexus.

Kincardine?!

So I decided to check out the weather for Kincardine (where Luke is from and where my grandma lives). And usually you're greeted by a nice little sunshine, some rain, flurries maybe. But I was greeted with something far more odd, intimidating and downright confusing, this.
As it turns out that's the Weather Network logo. I was afraid that there was going to be a spherical tornado in Kincardine and I'd have to dump my poor Grandma there for the holidays.

Top 5

Yup, you knew this was coming. Instead of going with my top 5 CDs of 2007, I'm going to go with the Top 5 CDs I listened to in 2007. That, I think, will paint a more accurate picture of what I was like this past year.

1. White Rabbits -- Fort Nightly (2007)

This is a band I discovered from a random video ad I saw online. I went from a thirty second clip to buying their disc in a matter of hours, and it didn't leave my player for four months. The most accurate way to describe them is calypso-rock, but they're so much more than that. The vast amount of rhythmic variance makes me love it as a drummer and the high energy makes me love it as a driver.

Best Song: "The Plot"

2. Tokyo Police Club -- A Lesson In Crime (2006)

I used to be able to say this sounds like nothing I've ever heard before, but that's no longer true: it turns out there a lot of skinny jeans'd kids doing the jittery indie thing. However, there's a certain indefinable quality to this CD that sets it apart. Maybe it's that I heard it first, but there's a lot of layering here that betraysan attention to detail that can get lost in a genre with such marked simplicity. I love how energetic it is (even when it doesn't mean to be) and there's a lot of creative tones, in the instrumentation, rather than in the writing (although the writing is good, too). I just wish they could do it live...

Best Song: "Cheer It On"

3. Stars -- In Our Bedroom After The War (2007)

A late entry, but this was almost my favourite disc this year. There are a few throwaways ("Personal", for one), but even those tracks I don't enjoy I respect as honest attempts that didn't strike me personally. It's a pretty mellow disc, but covers a lot of ground, from the sublime ("My Favourite Book"), open drive ("Midnight Coward"), and the epic ("In Our Bedroom After The War")

Best Song: "My Favourite Book"

4. The Junction -- The Junction (2007)

I played a show with these guys this year and was blown away with how nice and talented they were (which unfortunately tend to be mutually exclusive terms in the music business). Another one that covers a lot of music ground, with everything from rootsy stompers to screamo climaxes. Definitely not a radio friendly pop album but one that I never seem to tire of listening to, and one you can definitely sing along to.

Best Song: "Components Of Four"

5. Phantom Planet -- The Guest (2000)

Going waaaaay back, this is an album I slept on for a long time and am kicking myself for doing so. I loved their self-titled disc in 2003 but never thought about pursuing their back catalogue since everyone had told me how each of their albums was like listening to a different band. WHy check out another phase of the band when I liked the phase they were in? I wish I'd known what an amazingly listenable pop album this is. "California" is here, of course, but there are also unrequited ballads, chewing gum pop songs about girls walking by, and a wee bit of angst for variety.

Best Song: "One Ray Of Sunlight"

Honorable Mentions:

The Dandy Warhols -- 13 Tales From Urban Bohemia (1997)

Will Currie and the Country French -- Will Currie and the Country French (2007)

Sufjan Stevens -- Illinoise (2005)

Tapes n' Tapes -- The Loon (2007)

We Are Scientists -- With Love And Squalor (2005)

Mute Math -- Mute Math (2006)

Arcade Fire -- Funeral (2005)

Golden Dogs -- Big Eye little eye (2006)

Please discuss amongst yourselves.

You Might Be A Canuck

Usually office forwards are pretty lame. But this one actually had me lol-ing (laughing out loud - ing?!).

It's from Jeff Foxworthy (of You Might Be a Redneck if fame) who has turned his sights on Canadians.

I have bolded my favourites

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through May, you may Live in Canada.

If someone in a Home Depot store offers you assistance and they don't Work there, you may live in Canada.

If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you may live in Canada

If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a Wrong number, you may live in Canada

If "Vacation" means going anywhere south of Muncie for the weekend, you May live in Canada.

If you measure distance in hours, you may live in Canada

If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you may Live in Canada

If you have switched from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again, You may live in Canada

If you can drive 90 kms/hr through 2 feet of snow during a raging Blizzard without flinching, you may live in Canada

If you install security lights on your house and garage, but leave both Unlocked, you may live in Canada

If you carry jumper cables in your car and your wife knows how to use Them, you may live in Canada

If you design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit, you May live in Canada

If the speed limit on the highway is 100km -- you're going 110 and Everybody is passing you, you may live in Canada

If driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with Snow, you may live in Canada

If you know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road Construction, you may live in Canada

If you have more miles on your snow blower than your car, you may live in Canada. What are miles?

If you find 2 degrees "a little chilly", you may live in Canada

Hullaballoo

I'm kind of stuck on this one. Can someone give me a tip, please?


Aside from playing infuriating puzzles, I played infuriating sports this evening. I have an arranged play date every week with some other neighbourhood boys at the ol' hockey rink... it's a really good time, but tonight we lost really bad, 6-1. I swear the NHL had a day off and showed up in Waterloo at 1030 pm to play on the other team, in front of nobody, for kicks.

My favourite moment of tonight though was attempting to break up a potential fight..... ON MY OWN BENCH BETWEEN MY OWN TEAMMATES. HAHAHA, oh sports! They bring out the best in people! My favourite quote of the night "Want me to come over there and punch you in the f****** face?!?" AHAHAHA.

In my head I started to wonder what would happen if our team started fighting itself. I bet the other team would just get a good laugh, I'd think it was pretty funny. Especially if it was a bench clearing brawl, you know, haha, how wierd would that be? We'd all come over the boards and it would look like we're coming to fight them, then we just fight each other. What would the league do? Would we get suspended from future games?

Really, words can only say exactly what they represent using alphabetized linguistic symbols that some may tell you are quite clear and simple to understand. However, in summary, here is a picture of what happened tonight:


Spare the rod, spoil the child, so they say. I don't really get that one at all, but it seems to me that it means that the child is preferential to this rod, so...your guess is as good as mine

Winter Wonderland

Today the Leb and I shovelled the driveway. More than once, actually. And between pushing passing cars through the drifts and watching said passerby stare jealously at the Leb's neon-green onesie, we couldn't help but notice that there was one Bairstowaway absent from our winter travails: Mook.

Now, what I don't want you to think is that Luke was upstairs sleeping, or drinking hot chocolate, or anything like that. Luke is an awesome housemate: he does everyone's dishes, he's tidy, and he gives amazing backrubs (we've heard). But Luke has this uncanny ability to be in Hamilton visiting that Annie girl, no doubt enjoying gluten-free treats, going to gluten-free parties and watching gluten-free movies, whenever some mad shovellin' needs doing. To wit, here is a chart describing attendance for th last two mad weekend storms:

Please note that there is a 2% margin of error. It's almost like he knows what's going to happen weather-wise.

We need an old priest and a young priest

This is a true story of 415-5 Bairstow.

Tuesday started off like any other day. I answered phones, Luke played with Blackberries, and Caleb made posters of women punching barefoot male ballerinas in the junk. Little were we to know that we would soon unwittingly host a guest from the afterlife.

After playing at From Jesus With Love, my friend Jenna from Hamilton came to stay the night, as she had to meet someone in Waterloo the next morning and didn't want to drive home. I extended hospitality to Jenna and offered her our couches for the night.

When we got home we were looking for something to do, and being an English major I naturally suggested Scrabble. in what can only be described as a shocking upset, Jenna leapt out to an early lead, with her first turn netting 78 points. Only the combined literacy of myself and Mook kept her at bay, and I was able to help Mook eke out a win by sacrificing myself on the last turn. Curious indeed that Jenna, a supposed music student, was able to so handily squash an English major at his own game.

Whatever, people had beaten me at Scrabble before. Jenna and I said our goodbyes as she was leaving early and we weren't sure whether we'd catch each other in the morning. So when I woke up and came downstairs the next morning I wasn't shocked to find that Jenna was gone without a trace; the couch cushions were neatly arranged, no dishes, not even a wet spot where her shoes were. What creeped me out was that all the doors were still locked. We all had our keys, no windows were broken, nothing. She had simply vanished. I called her cell to find out how she had done it, but received no answer.

I thought about it all day at work, the evening during supper, later that evening at rehearsal, and that night while at the pub. How did she do it? Where was her exit point? Jenna was small enough to fit through certain spaces, but she had a guitar with her! What had become of that? The questions yielded no answers, however, and the matter had begun to slip to the edges of my mind when I got home. I chatted pleasantly with the Leb and Mook whilst standing in the stairwell, as is our wont after a long, tiresome day of labour. Suddnly, we noticed that the bathroom light was flickering on and off randomly. The same thing happened with the basement light. There is only one workable conclusion:

Jenna never left the house.

We quickly tried to rally our minds to determine in what form Jenna continued to inhabit the house. Was she a Black Christmas-style psychopath, waiting in the attic until we fell asleep? Was she a collection of smaller animals, mice, let's say, who had learned to create in tandem a lifelike represntation of Jenna before dispersing throughout our domicile? Was she like the Sandman in Spiderman?

After much deliberation we fanned out into the house to see if we could discover where and in what form Jenna might still be in our house. The Leb, brave soul that he is, boldly volunteered to check the basement. Armed with only his camera, he headed downstairs among the flickering lights . Minutes later we heard a scream and saw a flash. he ran upstairs to show us the image he had captured:

The spectre of Jenna.

We will spend the next few days trying to find proton packs online and equpping our dryer to contain netherworldly spirits. In the meantime we ask that if you happen to run into the spectre of Jenna at our house, please do not agitate it. The spirit seems to have control over the bathroom lights which makes things difficult for us if it's angry.

The Haus is warm

Today was the official Haus warming! Thanks to those who came out to celebrate with us, it was a good long day of fun.

We started it all off with some birthday Nachos for Lord Kerrance.


Then it was dinner time. So we went and got pizza, chicken, wedges and such.

And then we played some NES. Following an extended annihilation in Dr. Mario by Pam, we went tobogganing at "Naked Dead Guy Park".










After limping back to the haus we went for dinner. Which consisted of pizza, chicken, wedges and the likes. Mr. Coffey and I decided to have some (uncut) medium pizzas rolled up as "Burritzzas", they tasted good, but it's now 1 a.m. and I am still full and regret my choice of consumption.




Thanks again to everyone who came out, it was a good time. We hope to have many more celebratory events in the future.

K O' Bday

Sorry the audio is a little offset.

COMBINE-nation

So last night Gus and I went to the Raptors game against the Phoenix Suns. We sat in row 11. No not level 2 row 11. Row 11! From the court! The seats were amazing. You could tell which player was which by what they actually looked like, not by squinting and trying to read jersey numbers as we've had to before.

The Raptors lost, but the game was amazing. Steve Nash is amazing. He can pass the ball to anyone, anywhere, anyway.

The half time show was an act that went by the name "Quick Change", so they announce that they're coming on and my dad blurts out "RICK JAMES!?! I thought he was dead". Even though it wasn't the Superfreak himself, Quick Change was amazing.

I found out about a local hockey team that was around for two years in the 60s called the Hensall-Zurich Combines. Now you might be thinking "Steve would love that team!", however the name combine comes from the COMBINE-nation of the two towns for one team.

Steve would probably love them anyways.

We discovered the team because my friend Jared and I were making fun of the Wellsley Applejacks at lunch. Good times.

Be sure to check out Kerry and my duet below.

Duets

Caleb and I made th mistake of listening to Phantom Planet on the way home tonight and this is what happens. We'll be releasing an album soon.

Mookasso

I caught Mook painting his room today. Gone is the cat.

What is your favourite part of the word...

Here's a classy part of our mission to Costa Rica last summer.




Today was my grandfather's memorial and burial (of his ashes). So everyone is very solemn and some are crying and my uncle had borrowed my late grandfather's hat. So he dropped the hat on the ground and then he started laughing, which seemed quite out of place for the situation and so I asked him what he was laughing about and it turns out that there was a note inside the hat that read "Like Hell it's yours, but it back" followed by my gramps' address in case his hat got stolen at the Legion.

I wouldn't even use this book!

hehe

http://flickr.com/photos/pbjellayfish/1733139871/

Story Time!

So I used to get upset at my parents because my brother* and sister* were in their wedding photos and I wasn't.


*Both from my mom's previous marriage and significantly older.

Bairstow Haus vs. Columbia House

So I finally got around to canceling my Columbia House DVD club membership. It turns out that it's much easier than I thought.

You just call the number and after you choose English you're presented with the following options for reasons why you're canceling your membership:

1. You're moving out of the US
2. The membership owner is a minor (or is it a miner)?
3. The membership owner is diseased (Luke told me that it might actually be deceased - the automated person had a thick American accent) - he did however admit that if he was diseased he would probably watch more DVDs.
4. All other reasons.

So finally after a long time, Columbia House and I are planning on seeing other people. It's tough. I hope that I don't run into it in the Super Market with Amazon.ca

I have Gmail. One thing Gmail does is come up with ads based on your mail subjects. So for example, if I get an email requesting my drumming services, the banner ad is for used kits or music community sites. This morning I signed in and got this:

I need to stop talking about my inverted nipples on Gmail.

Black Mondaze

Let us get the sad news out of the way. My grandfather died on Saturday just shortly after they removed him from life support. It was very tough but most of us stayed by his bedside until after he was gone. He was 93, he had been married for 63 years to my grandmother

If you're interested in the information for the memorial service, please let me know.

This past week for Friday night youth events we played Live Monopoly in which you roll dice and go around the neighbourhood "buying" people's houses (they know you're coming in advance, it would be funny though if they didn't). Our place was supposed to be Boardwalk and Parkplace (we needed to have each place be a colour). But sadly I couldn't make it so the oh so classy portable at the church was the expensive-blues.

Here are a couple of stories I was reminded of this past weekend:

My mother the boxer: My family was sharing all sorts of skipping school stories and so my mom told the story of when she skipped school to help her friend with her prom date. You see, her friend didn't want to go with the guy, and so she had my mom spend the day punching her in eye so she would have a black-eye and he wouldn't want to go with her. It didn't work. She just had a really redeye and he wanted to go. They're married now, well I don't know that, but it could've happened.

Steve vs. The Vatican: So my brother decided that he would take his girlfriend (now wife - from Sweden) to go and see Niagara Falls. It was a Wednesday and he figured there wouldn't be too many people. Except for a special visitor that was there that day. The Pope. So there was a ton of people there to see the Pope and get in my brother's way.

We got some mail today that was addressed to Swiss Chalet Fan, must be Luke, man that guy loves his chicken.

In addition to METAL MONDAYS we're entertaining the idea of having Black Fridaze.

The garbagemen finally stole our dishwasher, so if you come looking for our haus don't look for a dishwasher.

I got to stay at a Bed and Breakfast for the first time ever this weekend. So I think that once Kerry goes to Teacher's College Mook and I will open a Bed and Breakfast of our own called Brunch S. Allen. It's going to be awesome, and mostly be toast and cereal.

Grandfather of all updates

Today I got a call from my dad letting me know that my grandfather isn't doing well, and tomorrow after my aunt from Australia gets to see him they are going to be taking him off of the life support system.

I took it pretty harshly and ended up leaving work early. I'll be taking the day off tomorrow to be with him and with the rest of the family.

It's seems messed that after 93 years of living his death is "scheduled".

Pray for him, pray for me, pray for us.

Bring your daughter...

Make sure that in reading this post you do not forget about Kerry's awesome re-telling of the first official METAL MONDAY!

Many of you have seen the movie Donnie Darko.
Some of you know that I enjoy that movie quite a bit.
However,
Few of you know that I ordered it on Amazon.ca from the toilet at work.

In moving we seem to have generated quite our fair share of cardboard refuse, so much so that the city won't take it unless it's properly bound with twine. Something we just don't want to do. So, in exercising benefit #3 of living so close to the church we decided to present the cardboard back to God, in the way of using the church's cardboard dumpster. A very hand thing to be near.

Speaking of garbage (heh), we have a dishwasher on our lawn. A dishwasher that predates out very existance at this house. We are guessing it came from somewhere in here, but none of us remember it and cannot figure out where it would've been from. So, I guess for now it's the marker for our haus (similar to Kristi's bike, the Pink Flamingo or the Pink Monkey), maybe it needs a pink paintjob. Well, what I am getting at with this story is on Thursday morning I heard the garbage truck and since we were discussing whether the garbage men would take it or not decided to watch from the bathroom I was occupying. So I looked through the blinds and watched the garbageman (I say that because he was a man) examine the appliance quite thoroughly, then look up frustratedly at our haus. I then acted on instinct and closed the blinds and hid up against the wall, from the garbageman!?! Why was I hiding, what was he going to do? Later talking to Mook, I found out that he was doing the same from his room and also hid from the murderous gaze of the man of garbage.

You know how you see alarm stickers on houses and you wonder whether they actually have an alarm? Well to put your mind at ease when you visit us, our sticker is a lie. Please don't rob us. We should also get a fake "Beware of Dog" sign.

I always like talking with people at dinner. It's a good time to talk. Especially about bodily functions and their weaknesses. The other day Mook and I had a great conversation about things that "go right through you" since I had been eating a lot of sunflower seeds around that time, and it was on my mind and in my...nevermind.

So my nephew has been quite the little talker (he's nearly three and lives in Sweden), and his new favourite thing to do is to inform my brother and sister in-law that they are running low on things, such as cereal. He's pretty much a food alarm.

If you could all keep my family in your prayers my grandfather (93) is not doing well. He went in for surgery last week to repair a blocked intestine and the surgery went fine but he suffered a heart attack pre-surgery. So they have him heavily sedated and aren't too optimistic about him recovering. It's tough for me. I've never had anyone as close as him die. So if you see me give me a hug, because chances are I could definitely use it.

In much better news. Mook S. Allen and I are going to be going to see Iron Maiden in Toronto on March 16!

Metal Monday I

Today is a special day in the Haus. Today is the inaugural Metal Monday. It became even more special when we found out the Gino's Pizza has a pizza special whereby you get a large pizza for $5.55, walk in. We thought it would be a good idea to each get a pizza so that we could all have leftovers. Our supper looked like this:

After about 20 minutes a large pizza seemed to be too large, and dangerous. It's scary what urges a cheese-addled brain will succumb to. Witness my despair and Caleb's dairy-drunk decision making:

We also went to Canadian Tire and picked up shovels and salt and a vacuum, making sure to buy a shovel with a METAL EDGE!!!!! to stay consistent with the theme of the day. We also got a rare glimpse of Caleb's dad in action at said Tire. We met a woman and her daughter in the vacuum aisle near a display for a really nice vacuum. There were two of those flip signs with the sale price (you know, the kind that the creepy Wal-Mart happy face is always messing with). Apparently Senor Wal-Mart Face had been there because while one sign read $229.99, the other read $29.99. The woman approached a clerk and asked to get the vacuum for $29.99. When the clerk went to check the price, I helpfully pointed out that the other price was probably correct. She responded with "Yeah, but if they don't give it to me for this price it's false advertising." I could barely squeak out an "OK" before going back to the guys to let them in on it. We wound up hovering around the section trying to look like we really interested in bikes/gravy boats/GT Snowracers (well, the GTs we were interested in) while trying to listen to the conversation. Basically, Mr. Mac said that the store has the right to refuse to sell anything to anyone, and he was invoking that right to not sell her the vacuum for $29.99. Is it bad that I feel good when the customer loses an argument?

That is all.

so after constant nagging, i've finally posted on here.

that's all i have to say. until next time...





















just kidding... har har har.

things are grand, the house is for the most part moved in, and i feel totally relieved. sure we had our worries moving in.... fears of one of the tenants staying a little longer than they were supposed too... hot water troubles... painting... renovations done later than expected... but it's been good. after 'transition living' for the last 5 months, i'm happy with the place, and especially my BED:

now i know what you're thinking: "Isn't the bed from that movie... The Sopranos???!?!?"

YES, indeed! Or so I have been told by Angelo at Bad Boy Kitchener. Or at least the model of the bed was called "Soprano". Hahaha I just looked at Angelo and Caleb and I tried to hide the laughter building up inside! Oh Angelo.... I miss him, being a bed salesman would be a killer job. I had gone bed shopping with Caleb that day... not that you should read into that... although i wondered if the salespeople did when we both got on the same bed. also, i need a ladder to get up in that thing, cause i swear it's like 10 feet tall. anyways, enough about the bed, more about the AMAZING CAT DRAWING IN MY ROOM:

Now it might be hard to see in the picture, but there is a beautiful pencil outline of a cat face with a diamter of about 3 feet on the one wall of my bedroom. Being the kind of person who doesn't like to see things unfinished, I took the liberty of ensuring that our unknown artist's original intent was fully captured with painstaking detail and accuracy:


i hope you are as pleased as i. oh, if only the artist could see their dreams come to fruition! What would they say to us? We may never know...

also, i work and stuff right now. it's good. and i'm listening to QUEEN. Awesome.

PIECE

Comparison Esteem

I moved this week, which necessitates a number of distateful tasks (cajoling people to help you, renting a truck, cleaning your room ,etc.) The onne thing I love about moving is going through boxes and boxes of my own stuff. It's at once an exciting and depressing experience. Exciting because it's fun to see pictures and items that remind me of where I've been and people I've known, and depressing because there's just so much of it. I can understand wanting to keep pictures, since they are an excellent misdirectional tool to convince people that I am more popular or better-traveled or generally cooler than I actually am. Same goes for newspaper clippings (by or about me), yearbooks, etc. These are all things I can point to and say “I was awesome in the past, and you therefore have reason to believe I am awesome now and will be awesome in the future.” They (kind of) serve a purpose.

What I'm trying to understand is why I feel the need to keep all of this other stuff that, while certainly connected to me, has very little value. Random essays, notebooks, schedules, nametags, and everything else inhabiting the wasteland of minutiae that is every 27-year-old North American’s past. For example: I threw out a terrible 3-page essay from 2001 that I got a B on and I felt a twinge of regret the moment it hit the can. Why? I am not particularly proud of the mark. The information contained therein is useless: I will be surprised should anyone ever again ask my thoughts on Albee’s Three Tall Women, and doubly surprised should I care enough about the question to research my response, and triply surprised should the essay I threw away have contained any information that a quick trip to Wikipedia couldn’t provide. My point is, recyclable properties aside, those are three functionally useless pieces of paper.
I think the reason I keep the useless essays (/nametags/schedules/doodles/and so on) is to misdirect myself into believing how awesome I am now. I look at that B six years later and I know that B would be an A if I were to write the same essay today. Nametags allow me to compare where I used to work compared to where I work now. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a certain sense of nostalgia connected to many of these items (and a wild, narcissistic hope that someday a team of O’Brienologists will need this stuff to completely understand me, their life’s study). But realistically there’s no need to have more than one paper saved per course (or per term, depending on how scholastically dedicated I was for those four months) because the best paper of that course represents the peak of my abilities at that fixed point in time. Anything else is an attempt to justify who I am now by comparing myself to who I was then.

Many of my friends post downright embarrassing photos of themselves on Facebook with captions like “OMG, look at my hair” or “pizza face” or something equally self-deprecating that would be downright fiendish if said about any other fifteen-year-old. These are the same photos that, as teenagers, they begged their parents not to give to their grandparents because it would then make the family newsletter and be seen by 50 relatives (who had likely seen them do much more awkward things already, like running around naked save for an Optimus Prime mask). All the tragic-haired pizza faces have turned it around are now willfully spreading those pictures to hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who don’t understand the poster’s childhood as a backdrop to laugh it off. They are submitting their past into the public record not to explain their present self, but to enhance it. It’s not enough to be an indie kid wearing brands no one has ever seen and being tired of bands no one has ever heard of: you have to be all that and have recovered from wearing Hypercolor with perma-stains under the pits, while swearing that Color Me Badd would be around forever. This is no different from saving B essays. In fact, by inviting (at best) friends and (more often than not) total strangers into the process, it goes from personal self-appreciation to worldwide adulation-seeking.

On its face the practice of comparison-esteem seems very self-centered and, having done no research in support of this theory, I wouldn’t be surprised if it is almost exclusively a North American pursuit. I don’t think it’s unhealthy, unless you become obsessed with proving you're a smarter, cooler, better looking, more tasteful you then you were at 15 (and if you can't do that, then you're really in trouble). I think it's important to remember that the cyclical nature of comparison-esteem requires you to make mistakes in the present so that your future self has something to gloat about. So go do something stupid. You may need it after a rough day ten years from now.

And then there were none

So this is the day. The day where all three of us now reside in the haus. Before I talk anymore about that though, I will finish up with some more goingson at the convention.

I had a person from WMB who knows me, come up to me and comment on the suit I was wearing the one day (the one I ripped the crotch of) and say "you look great, remember back when you used to wear those thrift shop suits?", little did he know I was wearing a thrift shop suit, just not a 50 cent one (I've moved up into the $15-20 range nowadays).

On the last ever the under 30 MEDA crowd was hanging out in a room at the hotel and the one girl decided that she wanted some wine but didn't want to go all the way to the lobby for it. So she ordered it from the fine Hilton room service folks, so a while later we hear a knock on the door and sure enough there's a service person with a single glass of white wine on a platter for her. The cost for such a lavish glass of wine? $15.23!

As you all know we set the clocks back an hour this weekend, so being the responsible individual I am I decided that before I went out for the night on the town that I would set all my clocks (including the hotel alarm clock). I then went out for the night to a jazz club. Returned. Then went to bed. I had a great sleep and even awoke to beat the alarm clock, feeling as though I had a sleep greater than what could be offered by the number of sleepable hours, but alas I had been pro-active and compensated for the change so I went back to bed, awoke to the alarm and took my time getting ready (as I had planned on arriving fashionably late to the buffet breakfast to take pictures well ahead of the Sunday service). I took the elevator down to the Convention level only to find it strangely quiet. Then I found the service folk putting away any remnant of the buffet, and heard worship music!? What could've happened? I had been so careful! As it turns out the Hilton has some way of getting all the clocks to change, so when I broke into it to manually change the time, I screwed with it and ended up getting up an hour later (I still have no idea how that worked). Grrrrrrrrrr.

I have a painted Mexican-esque border in my room. It's very nice. Kerry has matching glassware.

Ask Mook about the cat in his room :oD

Stay tuned for the date of the house-warming party and for my "best movies of 2007" night.

Come visit us. Email me for the address.

Whether you like soccer or not this link is pretty funny.

Day three: electric boogalii?!

today was the big day, the event that everyone came for, the Annual General Meeting (featuring my majestic Powerpoint masterpiece).

Turns out there's another Steve Martin here. No not the funny one from Hollywood, or the farmy one from Listowel (I must say I am a little disappointed myself).

In one of the speeches a man made mention of the CNN tower, that got a good snicker from the crowd that got it. But don't worry ted turner still doesn't own our beloved former-tallest-building.

I got really hungry late last night and upon discovering that none of the places around were open I tried to order something to go at the hotel restaurant, the man said no, but that I could go to my room and call down and order room service so that they can charge me extra for it.

I just ran into senor coffey (johns older brother), he's singing tonight for our enjoyment.

MEDA has a product called Microvest which is a Micro-investment service. Guess the only thing i can think of whenever it gets mentioned? It's a good thing that i wasn't around to have to design that logo for them.

I had an older gentleman ask me today if i was canadian, he then followed it up by telling me i looked like Prince Charles' son, then he told me i was handsome (I was deceivingly wearing a suit at the time giving me a +4 Handsome +2 Dashing and -3 Agility. If it wasn't for the loss in agility I would wear more suits). Watch out Kristi I am apprently the biggest thing since Matlock and big band music.

Yard tomorrow be the last day

...and on the third day...

28 hours in two days, that probably is a good way to start this entry. The camera is back I'm business and I am 2/3 done my appointed goal of 1,000 pictures of Convention. Tomorrow is the big day, the Annual General Meeting.

At the Hilton we use those magnetic entry keys and I had to go and get another because I managed to de-magnatize mine; maybe it was the swim, hottub or sauna I don't know, but I am going to chalk this one up to the man.

MEDA is on the front section of the KW record Etc. section tomorrow, check it out. Speaking of being published a guy from a Mennonite magazine (no not the Herald) approached me to use some of by photos, that would be the time any of my photos has gotten published (kristi aren't you proud of your non-Menno?)

Apparently I are lunch from the forbidden table of sandwiches (of the knowledge of good and evil) today at lunch. They had told most of the staff not to eat there, but neglected to tell me.

We had our Windows Vista laptop that is hooked up to the projector go nuts and make the desktop icons enormous, now it's fixed but it was hilarious at the time becuase they were probably 20
feet across on the screen.

Another day, a few more dollars.

I think Mook moves in tomorrow, go visit him.

Convention day 2

300 Pictures in our brand new Canon Rebel XTi may be dead. We should've gone with good ol' reliable Nikon. That is my first convention frustration. There'll probably be more to come stay tuned.

Where else other than a Christian Microfinance organization's Convention would you have a guy singing hymns that talk about finances and investments? Don't get me wrong, I think that they're good and make sense I just think it'll be a while before we have them in the regular line-up at WMB anytime soon.

I got to mwwt up with my sister for dinner and attempt some shopping at American Apparel (blasted Value Village ruining my abilty to shop at regular stores)

In haus news: it turns out that our current furnace is toast (no it's not made of toast), and we need to get a new one. I guess it's better it happen now than in the dead of Winter (late February). We also have a squatter (harass Mook to post the story).
Thus ends another day of Convention 08.

Goodnight and Godspeed (you! Black emperor)

convention update - day one

good evening everyone (as I once again pretend that people read this hlog) i am currently sitting the basement of the swanky Toronto Hilton ( they claim Paris doesn't work at this one - i don't think she woeks at all).

So far today has been good, I arrived at work only to shortly thereafter be greeted by a stretch explorer limo ready to take us to Toronto, equipped with ita very own British-accent equipped driver (a sort of mobile butler-like chap).

One of the speakers at the event is bringing along her dad (no big deal right? Wrong!), his name his David David! I am glad that they let me know ahead of time so that I can stifle my surprise when/if I meet him. I guess it's an Anglicized equivalent of a double Mohammed (probably not at all).

I room news I have a room with two double beds to just me. I think that I should push them together to make an über-bed (emperor-sized?).

That's about it from convention 07 (for now). In case you're wondering, yes I did work today, just not as much as a usual day and not as much as I will in the following days.

The long, hard road to Bairstow

So, as the Leb noted earlier, we are moving in this week. Huzzah! Roadblocks we have encountered thus far:

Internet: Apparently there was some massive fraud at good ol' 415-5 in the past, so much so that Rogers out-and-out REFUSED to set us up for the Interweb until they ran a full credit check on me. I thought to have one of the other guys do it but reconsidered since between the two of them they've downloaded 2/3s of the Interweb illegally already. I also got made fun of by Corinne, the CSR who I called to get this straightened out, because the boys insisted we go with the more expensive EXTREME Hi-Speed Internet rather than the Express version, which is exactly 1 MBPS slower for $7.00 less monthly and she thought it was silly to pay more for that little. Forget you, Corinne, I will sleep better knowing that, despite me losing $2.33 a month, my connection to the internet is EXTREME like Paul Heyman (wikipedia.org will help you there, friends).

Gas: Tell me if this seems weird to anyone else. Tenant leaves house. Next tenants are moving in immediately. Union Gas cannot just come and check the meter for the last billing, oh no; they must also turn OFF the gas, so that we have to schedule an appointment three days later for them to come back and turn ON the gas, therfore leaving us (well, Luke) without hot water and heat for three days. Thankfully it's only three days as initially it was going to be a week. While it would have been undeniably cool to live like hobos in the church for a week (I would have loved to see Paul Atkinson find us in his office with a barrel-fire), maybe we're better off this way.

Electricity: Luke is taking care of this, which means it's going fine. Unless, of course, it's not? I don't know.

My stuff: OK, I have a lot of stuff. a LOT. I spent the better portion of this week going through hundreds of old CDs that I haven't listened to in forever, cherry-picking the two or three songs I like so I can throw out the ones I don't want. Unless, of course, there's someone out there who wants their very own copy of Running Season by Flashlight Brown? or perhaps the X-Treme Tracks compilation that I was so hot for in 1993, featuring Toad The Wet Sprocket and Ned's Atomic Dustbin? I think I may set up a box in our front hall full of these CDs that says you MUST take one if you stay more than 15 minutes.

Enough for now. Anyone who can help me move on Sunday, that would make my life a lot easier. See you soon!


Lord Kerrance

The hlog and the best thing ever

Huzzah, finally the oft-spoke about (by us at least) hlog has finally materialized! I for one am excited for it's appearance and for what it's mere presence means. It signifies that the date that Lord Kerrance (Kerry), Mook S. Allen (Luke S. Allen) and myself (the Leb (Caleb)) move in together.

You might ask yourself, why do you keep spelling blog with an 'h'? Well my peers, it's because it's a log of the goings-on at our haus, so I've decided to call it a hlog.

In case you're curious we move in to our new place at varying times between October 1 - November 4, so come by and visit soon after. Also news of a hauswarming party will come soon. My suggestion is that it be NES themed. Any other suggestions will be mulled-over by the Haus Council.

In other news, I bought an iPod Touch (16 Gb) this week, and it's the greatest thing of all time. So whilst I am in Toronto at a work convention I will be able to keep up with how much damage I cause to my room while jumping on my King-sized bed. Or mayhaps play some NES games on it while I am supposed to be working.