Jeremiah Jeep

Jeremiah Jeep has been rescued from his 4 months of inactivity (which, coincidentally, is about the length of my own inactivity) and is at a garage to get checked out.

He's got to get his battery charged -- as do I -- and then someone will lift his hood to check out his working parts. Hmmmmm, sounds inviting. Then he'll be worked over from top to bottom by a mechanic who, I suspect, is very good with his hands. Again, very interesting. Then he'll be given a lube job and.....oh, it's way too easy to sink to those depths.

Needless to say, both Jeremiah and I are getting primed and ready to take on the US of A in 2006. I hope he gets the green light from the mechanic and it's all systems go for our road trip to San Diego and places beyond. I won't know 'til Tuesday (hey, does anyone remember the 80's band 'Til Tuesday and their 80's hit Voices Carry?) what the verdict is, but I've got fingers and toes crossed 'til they cramp.

Home

As cheesy as it is, I like to listen to the Michael Buble song Home and think about Vancouver. I listened to it last night as I took a plane, then waited in an airport for 2 hours, then took another plane. All in anticipation of making my way back to The 'Couv, my very own temporary refuge from the road home.

After an unexpected episode that saw Air Canada change my flight time -- moving up the departure time by an hour and a half, no less!! -- I flew into action, contacting their call centre and trying to figure out how the hell I could be rerouted home that same night. After much hemming and hawing, it all came together.

I caught a flight to Toronto then waited 2 hours for my connecting flight to The 'Couv. I eventually arrived home several hours later than originally expected, but at least I made it safe and sound. And at this point, that's really all that matters.

Now the real work begins: trying to figure out what to do for NYE!! Oh, the drama.

And on a completely unrelated topic, Tori Spelling is engaged again. This time to a Canadian actor she met in Ottawa last Summer while filming her latest made-for-TV abomination movie. It seems they were each married when they first met, but true love helped them see the light and realize that they're made for a six month engagement, followed by a bitter tabloid frenzied breakup each other. Best of luck to the happy couple.

Bust my buttons

I've been in Ottawa since Dec. 21, spending Christmas with the family. I remember in 1993 -- the last time I was in Ottawa in Wintertime -- telling myself I never wanted to return in Winter again. It's not quite so bad this time 'round, but being greeted by my parents and brother was certainly offset by the -18C temperature when I first stepped out of the airport terminal building. Zoiks!

Since then, however, it's warmed up and hasn't been quite so bad. Christmas was good, and my wee nephew T. was well worth watching as he alternated as present delivery boy and present opener. My Dad always used to say, "Christmas is for kids," a fact that isn't lost on me.

I fly home to Vancouver tomorrow, but first we have a day with T. today, including going to a dragon-themed play at the local theatre. I'll miss that little fella when I'm gone. But the good news is that I'll get to see him when I'm back here for 7 weeks in May/June. And when his parents asked who he wanted to babysit him on Friday when they go to a Senators game, wee T. answered "Uncle Jeff." Well, if that didn't bust my buttons! Unfortunately, I leave Thursday : ( But it's still nice to have the vote of confidence.

Did I mention that I bought T. and I matching silk robes from Thailand? Sooo cute!

I was invited to the home of the Brackendale Couple and their kids for dinner last night. They treated me to a terrific appetizer of a 5-layer dip (even better than the 7-layer dip at Citta's!). Yummy! Dinner was a delicious pork tenderloin in maple and orange sauce. Double yummy! And of course, the traditional chocolate fondue for dessert. Triple yummy! Mmmmmm, home cooking is so nice -- my Dad's tortiere most certainly included!

Last night the Brackendale Couple and I tried to make a drunken, collect phone call to Evil, the Whistler Tequila Queen. No luck, but perhaps today it's worth trying to contact her partner in tequila crime, a certain Luscious Lorna. After all, isn't it someone's birthday today?

10,000

Monday, December 19, 2005. A milestone for life is large. why insist on living small

10,000 hits!

Thanks to each person who has no life been a faithful reader over the past year-plus. I'd be inclined to ask each regular to leave a quick comment on this most ausicious occasion, but I fear that there just wouldn't be too many : )

Nevertheless, new stories and experiences are on the way. Keep reading. I'll keep writing. It's all good.

And speaking of 10,000, I feel like I've downloaded that many CD's onto my new laptop. It's nice to have music again. Even if it is cheesy 14-year-old schoolgirl stuff.

Moving Day

It's moving day today. I'm on a lease with my best friend Suzie in North Vancouver, meaning that I contribute a modest portion of the rent, stay at Suzie's whenever I'm in town, and have an official Canadian address for taxation purposes (so that my circus lodging expenses are tax deductible).

And a few weeks ago, I got an e-mail from Suzie titled, "We're movin' girl!"

Back to the West End!

Except for the last few things, Suzie's done all the packing. The movers are scheduled for 1PM this afteroon. The new place is all ready to go, save for some painting, which Suzie loves to do. And all I have to do is go along for the ride.

I can't wait to be back in the Best West End again!

Scare Canada

I have a tendency to call our national carrier Scare Canada instead of Air Canada. I suppose I'll have to refrain from doing that anymore. I mean, the service wasn't stunning or anything, but it was certainly adeqate. Maybe even more than adeqate. Let's call it good. And there were far fewer wrinkled, haggard, scary-lookin' 60-year-old flight attendants than on a typical Scare -- sorry, Air -- Canada flight. All in all, I have to say that maybe they'll win back my confidence.

I'm in Vancouver now, having arrived earlier (Sunday 11AM) than I left Hong Kong (Sunday 3PM). I freakin' love that! I'm safe and sound, but damn tired. It's 5:30AM Hong Kong time and I think I need a wee disco nap. After all, it's Sunday night and that can only mean one thing: Joan-E, Justine and a special guest performing at the Feather Boa Show!

Happy days!

Simply the Best

When I was back home in August, I had such an amazing time. Any trip to The 'Couv is amazing, but that one was particularly great because it was the first trip home since starting my circus gig.

Oh, who am I kidding? That had nothing to do with it at all. It's just always spectacular being home, and Vancouver is, without any doubt, my home. Back in August, I was still struggling with life as a circus nomad. To be honest, I still struggle with it to some degree, and probably will as long as I tour. But back in August, I was having transitional challenges that were causing me a considerable amount of grief. Happily, things are much better now!

Back in August, after I left The 'Couv to head to work in Singapore, I compiled a list of some of the best things about my trip home. I never ended up publishing the list because getting access to the internet in Singapore was somewhat tortuous problematic. But I just found this unpublished post and it got me even more wildly excited to be heading home again this time. To revisit, here is that post from last August that outlines some of the best components of that trip home.

Highlights aren't just for hair. They're also for return trips home. Here are some of mine:

• Second Beach Pool
• Drinking with Suzie
• Heck, drinking with Sin-dee, Patsy, Willy, everyone!
• The West Best End
• Seeing awesome friends and family
• The spectacular weather
• Getting my Jeep on the road again
• Driving my Jeep with the top down
• Meeting Soccer Boy
• Dropping in on people at my old office and seeing the looks on their faces
• Bellinis!
• Having all my crap in one place again (for the first time in nearly 2 years)
• Shopping at Old Navy and the Gap (note: The Republic was a major disappointment and may no longer be my retailer of choice)
• The view of everything from North Vancouver
• My parents flying in from Ottawa to turn the tables and surprise me, for a change
• The simple pleasure of driving, which I've really missed
• Seeing people's reactions when I tell them I'm a circus freak now
• Men in shorts
• Walking around Stanley Park
• English Bay in all its glory
• Samurai Sushi!!
• Going to Fountainhead Friday twice!
• The feeling of simply belonging again

Ahhh, good ol' Vancouver. Can't wait to be there again. This afternoon at 2:55PM can't come soon enough!

Ovah

There were some short tempers today. There were some unhappy people. There was a fairly early (8am) start after a late night of packing and loading last night. I took direction well. I provided some comic relief for Ladybug as we struggled to fit a huge amount of stuff into a sea container. I climbed up, over, around, and even through. I pulled, pushed, shoved, yanked, dragged, lifted, and dropped things. I danced and sang and acted a bit silly. I suffered from a definite lack of sleep. I learned a bit about US customs requirements that I didn't know. I met a woman who looks an awful lot like a man. I had a great barbequed burger for lunch. And I enjoyed several cans of Coke. I laughed, I cried....well, you know.

But the important thing is that we're finished. It was a bit later than expected, but it's all done. Yippee!! And that means that I am officially on holidays until January 11. Yippee again!! Which also means that my flight to Vancouver must be coming up.....tomorrow. Triple yippee!!

And now I'm showered and ready to head to the home of Laid Back Guy and One World Gal to enjoy a bottle of wine and one last visit before leaving Honkers.

The other day, San Diego Gal asked me if I could live here. Quite honestly, I don't know if that would be good in the long term, but I could certainly give it a go for a defined period of time. Like, say, two years or so. My friend Lucky said he couldn't, but I think I could. There's just something about this place that feels good. Sure, there are a lot of weird bits, but overall it's pretty cool. And compared to Singapore, for instance, it kicks.

I'll really miss Hong Kong.

I'm very good at taking direction

It's ovah. Tear Down passed in a flash, and it's nice to see that each time it gets a bit easier. We started after intermission, as always, which means about 9:30pm. This time we had a bit of extra help from some colleagues, which helped me focus on quarterbacking the effort instead of having to have specific tasks in addition to the quarterback duties. The extra help allowed us to not have to worry about a large chunk of the effort, which in turn helped us finish a bit earlier than last time.

Now, don't be fooled. There's a lot of prep work that goes into getting ready for Tear Down day (TDD). It's not like we just wake up on TDD, put our hard hats and steel toe boots on, and just go to town. We have to get tons of stuff done in advance to make things quick and efficient. The more you can get done in advance, the quicker and easier TDD is. This time, it all went very smoothly, so obviously we're getting better at all the prep work in addition to the day-of tasks.

Finishing time tonight was 1:30am, but we still have to go in tomorrow morning at 8:00am to help the other group that provided the assistance to us tonight. It's all good -- tomorrow I'm just a follower instead of being a quarterback.

I'm very good at taking direction.

But for now, a bit of blogging, a bit of Grand Marnier, and a bit of a wind-down before bed. It's late, but the hard part is ovah. And it's only 36 hours til I fly home : )

51 hours

Despite the fact that I've been playing with my new laptop and iPod all morning (well well into the night last night), it's now time to bid the world adieu and venture off into that zone known only as....

Tear Down mode

Due to noise limits at our site in Hong Kong, we aren't allowed to use any forklifts at night, so we've had to alter our normal procedure to accommodate. When we close the lounge after intermission, the guests will head to the Big Top and we'll start dismantling everything. I mean it. Ev. Ree. Thing.

Nurse Girl and I are fairly well-placed, because we don't usually need to use forklifts to get our road cases and such into our container. Our colleagues rely on them much more, because they have heavier things to move. But seeing as how they can't use them tonight.....they're coming to help us with our Tear Down.

We can only work until midnight -- again because of noise limits and site agreements, etc. If all goes well, we'll actually be done by then anyways, and Nurse Girl and I will come in on Saturday to help the other groups with their loads. We've never done a daytime Tear Down before, so it will be interesting to actually see what we're doing for a change. Should be good, unless it's a million degrees outside and we end up with sunburns.

All I know is that I jump on a plane i just over 51 hours. How stoked am I?!

Oh, us 14-year-old schoolgirlsand our musical tastes

Not only do I have a brand spanking new Mac laptop, but I'm also the really exhausted proud owner of a beautiful new iPod with 60G of memory and video capability.

I worked until midnight last night, took a quick break to drop in at my friend Lucky's hotel room and have a quick drink of Grand Marnier and then was on a conference call from 1AM to 1:45AM with a caterer from San Diego. A few quick work e-mails later and it was finally time to turn off the work worries for the night. Sure I was tired, but that didn't stop me from staying up until 5 Fucking AM loading CD's to my laptop and then synching my beautiful new iPod to create my own fantasy world of potential karaoke hits music library.

I now have music to go. And a way to keep up with the latest musical whims of the 14-year-old schoolgirl crowd.

Hallelujia!

All good

My first post on my new laptop, and I'm wondering if blogger has a different interface for Mac than it does for PCs, cuz I don't see many of the buttons I normally see when posting on my old laptop. Where, for instance, are the font size drop-down choices?!

My birthday was good -- drinks on Sunday while party-hopping between going away parties for three different circus freaks; dinner on Monday with my two closest circus freak friends; more drinks today after work. All good.

Plenty of birthday e-mails, a phone call from Luscious Lorna, and lots of good wishes at work today. All good.

But now I'm tired and in need of sleep. Tomorrow is a busy day, seeing as how we're in the midst of Tear Down week and all.

HB

She's a real beauty, mate!

• It has 15 inches. Me: not quite.
• It is lightweight. I'm more of a heavyweight.
• It has an ultra-slim 'n sleek profile. I'm getting fat not as fit as I used to be.
• It can burn CD's and DVD's. I can burn rice.
• It has all sorts of features that are, as-of-yet, mysterious and unknown. I am simple and easy-to-read (ya, right).
• It is shiny and new. Me: don't go there.
• It has no scratches or visible marks. I've got scars that could tell stories.
• It was built for satisfaction. And in that way, we're incredibly similar.

As of today, it's all mine. Happy Birthday to me!

The Uma Chronicles

I thought a lot about my friend Uma the other day. She was always way cooler than me -- still is -- and was a big fan of good music, while I was more used to bee-boppin' along to some cheesy pop song by the latest flavour of the day. I still succumb to the flavour of the day on occasion, but think that I have managed to earn some of Uma's respect on account of a shared reverance for the untouchable Sarah Mclachlan.

But the other day my thoughts drifted to Uma and how she would be holding up. Her musical god was John Lennon so, being the 25th anniversary of his death, I had a feeling that it might be a long slog for Uma to make it through from morning to night. She confirmed this for me in an e-mail, admitting that it was a pretty moving day. But nothing if not strong, I suspect that Uma managed to keep it together and celebrate all that John offered the world.

I clearly remember meeting Uma after she first moved over to our Accounting Department from BH&R. I thought she was so pretty, and (at that point) didn't hold against her the fact that she was friends with Oh-My-God Girl. (And in the small-world file, Oh-My-God Girl ended up being roommates with Luscious Lorna a few years later, which is fodder for an entire series of really painful blog entries!) But way back then, Uma was just some pretty girl from Peterborough whose wallflower personality made it so hard to have any kind of fun with her : )

On the contrary, fun always seemed to follow whenever Uma and I hung out. We've done a lot of stupid meaningful things together, like go on a road trip from Whistler to Calgary in June/95; enjoy plenty of memorable parties at the house she shared with Sterling 6000 Guy and The Love Doctor; sleep together (fully clothed and in a drunken state, of course) following one of said parties; go on a test-Evil's-new-Honda road trip with Evil and Russ de Noble up to Lillooet, ending up at a secret cemetery in an abandoned ghost town; enjoy a few Friday afternoon pitchers of Strawberry Margaritas with Luscious Lorna in the non-ventilated basement storage closet that we called an office; watch the aforementioned goddess in an intimate and interactive acoustic session for about 200 people at the Chateau (still my best ever musical experience to this day); and take a lot of photos with my hand over her breast.

Uma always used to say to me, "I hate people. You know that. But I like you." Well I like Uma, too. And I really think she would be happy if she could just work with animals, teach yoga, and live in near-seclusion on the Sunshine Coast. Luckily, she's done all of that and is one pretty well-adjusted gal, which makes me all shiny and happy inside. But oh so much more talent as well! She does a mean speaker dance at Tommy's on occasion. In a bulky sweatshirt. And hiking boots, if I recall. Fueled by a little liquid courage. And urged on by a friend like me who can still picture it perfectly clear in his mind.

I know that December 8 was a tough day for Uma. But I hope that seeing The Uma Chronicles on the web will help ease some of that pain. As she said to me in her e-mail pleading begging imploring bribing asking me to be in the blog, "...it may be my last shot at fame. Lord knows I've been beside myself since Tyra passed over my audition tape...AGAIN!"

Uma, you can now rest easy -- you've made LIL WILS! And I just love the fact that she used that abbreviation, which I read to myself as L'il Wils. In fact, I wondered why she was referring to Prince William at all. And then I figured out that LIL WILS is just the blog abbreviation : )

Uma always was cooler than me. Still is. Probably always will be. Obviously smarter, too.

The world

Back in Honkers, safe and sound. And the first thing I did? Took a shower in my amazing bathroom.

The little luxuries sometimes mean the world to you.

Instead of luxurious, a bit stiff

I got my three pairs of custom-tailored pants back today. They fit my funny legs pretty well -- nearly to a T, and certainly better than regular off-the-rack pants fit. But I'm disappointed at the quality of the material I chose. When I selected three different types of material, each of them felt OK when feeling it with my hands. It seemed like each material would translate into a good pair of pants. It seemed like each was what I wanted. It seemed like blends of cashmere and wool and similar materials would work for me.

Damn. They just don't feel right.

Instead of feeling luxurious, each pair feels a bit stiff. Each pair is lined and all, and the handiwork is fine. The tailor accommodated each of my requests (slightly wider belt loops, double cuffed at the bottom, 2 non-flap back pockets, slit pockets at the front, flat front, etc.), so I'm happy about all of those details. In fact, each pair looks pretty darn good on me, and that's the really important thing. I'll just hope that people can't tell that they aren't feeling like a million bucks on my body.

But -- and let's be honest here -- I paid a mere pittance compared to what I would have paid for the same thing at home. Cheers to that!

I did even more Christmas shopping today and am thinkin' that I've pretty much hit the finish line. But it's so darned easy to see something cute and cheap and pick it up for the nieces and nephew. They'll think Uncle Jeff is waaaay better than Santa Claus this year : ) I just have to balance the need to pick up all of those kinds of little treats against my inability to actually cart them home with me. Or else I'll be sending one honkin' big parcel that costs about a million bucks.

It's my last night in Patong Beach and shortly I'll be heading to a place called Buffalo Grill, or some approximation thereof. I went there for dinner the other night and enjoyed the most garlicy bruschetta I've ever eaten in my life. I must have been oozing garlic from the pores the next day, but it ain't like I'm in jeopardy of kissin' nobody, so I can live wit dat. I also had a Bacon and Cheese Burger that was quite likely the best burger I've had in possibly my entire life an awfully long time. Bring on the sequel at Buffalo Grill tonight! I may have to sacrifice the bruschetta on account of the fact that I'll be sitting next to other passengers on my two flights tomorrow, but I'll be happily chowing down on another burger.

So this vacation comes to an end. And, to be honest, I'm quite cool about heading back to Honkers and back to work. It's not like I missed work or anything, but I reallllly miss the amazing shower and bed and flatscreen TV and work desk and free broadband internet and luxury of Le Meridien Cyberport. But most of all, I can't wait to be reunited with the shower. Sigh. It's like a tropical waterfall that makes it very easy to pass an easy half hour while watching the flatscreen TV in the other room. Plus, I'm excited about being back in Honkers to get together with some friends for my birthday drinks, celebrate the end of our Asia Pacific Tour with the whole freakin' team, and then head home to Vancouver.

I've really enjoyed Honkers as a host city, so I'm a bit disappointed to leave there (particularly in light of some of the upcoming stops on our American Tour). But going to Vancouver? Well, ain't nothin' could be finer! Yippee! But before Vancouver: the madness of Tear Down.

(insert foreshadowing music here)

Broken promises

My mind is a scary place intrigues me.

Do you ever have those flashbacks to certain places, situations, people, circumstances and whatnot? Oops, case in point. The word whatnot is one that Luscious Lorna can relate to, having been the favourite word of someone we both used to work for; a certain someone of whom I do a pretty damn good impression.

Aside: that reminds me, Luscious. I don't think I told you that Smith got married in September!! Can you believe our little boy is a husband now?!

See, there you have it -- a mind going in several different directions at the same time. But I digress, so let me get back on track.

As you can see -- a single word can trigger the strangest cache of memories for me. I'll hear myself say a certain word in my internal dialogue with myself -- yes, of course I talk to myself -- and suddenly a whole heap o' memories come flooding back. And I know I'm hardly the only one to whom that happens, but sometimes it just takes me off on this weird tangent that I feel reallllly compelled to blog about leads on a crooked-line journey to a thought that I'd repressed or totally forgotten about or hadn't even filed in the appropriate category just yet.

You see, categories are very important to me.

Nevertheless. Sometimes that repressed or forgotten thought can make me laugh out loud -- and I seriously mean it when I'm reminded about things having to do with Suzie and Luscious Lorna in particular -- or can make me cringe 'n cry. Sometimes I really have to take a second to allow myself to stop and think about how things have turned out, given a certain set of circumstances. A recent friend on tour said that I "think too much." Very possibly, but I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Still, consider this.

Meeting and then seriously avoiding Tall Guy from Germany the other day reminded me of a an ex-friend of mine. Someone who's also German and who used to play a big, albeit brief (only 13 months in total), role in my life. We had a great friendship, followed by a fairly intense (but brief) romance, followed by a different friendship, followed by a falling out, followed by a forced-to-hang-out-together-due-to-circumstances situation. The Embezzler was/is a charming man, someone who can make you fall head over heels in like, in love, or in some combination thereof. It took me quite a while to come up with the best way to encapsulate our relationship/friendship after it totally disintegrated, but the best way I can describe him is a user of people and situations. Trust me, it took a loooong time to categorize him after it all fell apart, and finding the right category is not something that I take lightly. I put an awful lot of thought into it -- part of my whole review-and-revise-for-next-time thang. But a user of people and situations is a perfectly appropriate category for the Embezzler. I'll leave that thought as-is for now. But for some reason that comes with the weird-ass steet trap of a mind I've been blessed with I've thought about the Embezzler often over the past little while.

• November marked 3 years since we traveled as part of a contingent of teammates to the Gay Games in Sydney, and I'm a sucker at remembering dates. And so I thought about him.
• I recently received an e-mail from someone inquiring about his whereabouts (I haven't had any contact with him since November 2002, in case you're wondering). And so I thought about him.
• A few days ago I was remembering my trip to NYC with Suzie and the Embezzler in September 2002 for the US Open, among other things. And so I thought about him.
• Also a few days ago, I was reading some figure skating statistics -- yes, I am that gay -- and I saw something that reminded me of the Embezzler. And so I thought about him.
• The other day I met and avoided Tall Guy from Germany, whose friends were from Munich, Embezzler's home town. And so I thought about him.
• Yesterday I was reading tons of coverage of Winter Olympic sports to get primed and ready for Torino 2006, and I remembered Bean's Valentine's Day Party during Salt Lake City 2002. And so I thought about him.
• I was just a few minutes ago typing a word and talking to myself when I used the accent that he used to use when saying that particular word. And so I thought about him.

A flood of memories came whizzing back that led me to think about people like Suzie, Blossom, Tape Girl, Number One, Embezzler's ex, Fi Fi Trixiebelle, Elizabeth Taylor (no, I don't personally know her, but there's another word that the Embezzler says that always makes me think of La Liz), Frau Schmidt (the Housekeeper from Sound of Music -- don't ask!), my sisters J. and S., and even Miss Singapore Smile. So many great people wrapped around this legacy of a person whose memory now makes my skin crawl. Such good with such bad.

I thought back to when Suzie and I embarked on our fairytale friendship with the Embezzler. I thought back to road trips to Seattle with the Embezzler. I thought back to he and I holding hands in the dark. I thought back to the thrill of winning free plane tickets at a fundraising event. I thought back to people talking about us in revered whispers. I thought back to a particular shirt he liked to see me wear and wanted to rip off me. I thought back to carefree times that never wanted to end. Jeepers, I even thought back to the colour purple, for some strange reason.

I thought back to a whole litany of words that spring to mind when I remember the Embezzler. Words that make me laugh still to this day. Words that prompt me to post blog entries. Words and phrases like (bear with me for just a moment here) "Nevertheless, new ones have been ordered...", "Gladiator!", "Bless", "They should just go home and practice", and "He's gaaaay!"

And then I thought back to a time when I was in a foreign country and relying on promises made to me by the Embezzler. Promises upon which I had based holiday plans, and to which I had looked forward for months. Promises that weren't kept. Promises that were broken without the courtesy of consulting me. Promises that were broken with a mere in-passing comment about "going to Ulm." Promises that were broken without any regard to how I'd feel. Broken promises that simply left me to my own devices without any consideration of the fact that I hadn't made any alternate arrangements. Broken promises that left me feeling alone and abandoned. Broken promises that made me feel more unwanted than at any point in memory. Broken promises that helped me see the Embezzler's true character: a user of people and situations. Extremely self-serving. In it for himself. Dismissive. Despite initial impressions, does not work well with others.

I wonder what the Embezzler is doing now. And I'd kinda like to run into him to make extra damn sure he knows that I'm doing extremely well, thank you very much. It's not always about revenge, but in this case I'm willing to stoop to that level.

I still do really think that my mind is a frightfully scary tool at times wonderful thing. Even when it focuses on being better off than the Embezzler.

God knows I'm a petty person. I never said I wasn't.

To a T

Yesterday I rented a scooter and rode around part of the island of Phuket. Until I got here, I hadn't realized that Phuket is actually an island, but it sure enough is. It's beautiful, lush, hilly, and hot. This island is chock full of narrow winding roads that weave along the coastline, affording the odd glimpse of a secret beach or hidden cove. Photo ops are plentiful, and it can take hours to make the fairly short journey from Patong Beach to Phuket Town on account of all the pic stops. I can attest to that.

And, having said that, I just realized how devoid of photos my blog has been lately. It's not like I ain't takin' pics, people! It's just that downloading them is a bit of an issue : ( I'll get to work on that as soon as I can.

A few things that Phuket has in abundance? Try street vendors stalls, annoying hawkers working those stalls (and pawing you to try and steer you into their space to browse), 7-11 stores, Thai boys who look remarkably feminine, custom tailors, cheesy restaurants and bars, older Caucasian man and young Thai girl (or boy) couples, and scooters/motorbikes. It's not necessarily the place where you go to "get away from it all," but you can find that kind of seclusion if you want to pay a lot of money to stay in an upscale resort. I've chosen to stay right in the mix, but (luckily) my hotel room is quiet enough that I can't hear all the commotion from my room. That's good, cuz I've actually been playing it pretty cool during this holiday. Other than going out the first night I was here, I haven't been doing the nightlife things cuz I've been too busy blogging.

What I have been doing is deciding that it's high time to take advantage of all the custom tailors here. My intention since going to Singapore back at the end of August has been to get a custom-made suit that will fit me and my hard-to-fit legs to a T. And ever since then, I've put it off. Can you say procrastinator? Uh, ya.

To be honest, I've struggled with the value of getting a suit custom-made for me at a very reasonable price, against the reality of "Do I really need a suit?" I haven't worn one in sooo long, and it's not like I go to a lot of weddings. Still, I suppose a man always needs one good suit, hey? And what's the worst that could happen? Instead of paying $1000 for a good quality off-the-rack suit, I pay a few hundred bucks for a custom-made suit that (hopefully) fits me to a T, but that I cart around on tour with me and never wear even once. I can live with that as a worst-case scenario.

And so I've come to a decision. I do desperately need new work pants, seeing as how my favourite pair is finally and officially dead. Bless them and the years of service they gave me, but damn The Republic for not stocking them anymore. Well, it's a perfect opportunity to take advantage of all the tailors here, so I'm having three pairs of pants custom-made for me for a total far less than what I would pay for one good quality pair of pants off the rack. I went to a tailor shop that has a very good reputation, at least according to the celebrity endorsements and advertising. And if they do a good job on these three pairs of pants, I'll probably go to their Hong Kong outlet when I'm back "home" and have a suit made. What the hell! I look great in a suit even if I only wear it once, when I'm going for my fitting in the tailor shop.

I go to the shop later this morning to try on the first pair of pants and have them make adjustments to accommodate my hard-to-fit legs ensure they fit to a T. And then they'll cut the two other pairs to the same custom measurements. Fingers crossed they fit my funny legs!

Postscript: hey, I just thought of a great reason why I can use a new suit. Our Publicist mentioned that they always like to use hometown people to help do publicity in any city that the circus hits. Naturally, when she found out that Ottawa's my hometown, she got a gleam in her eye and asked me if I would be comfortable doing a press junket while we're there. Ya, I can probably accommodate that...

Without permission from anyone

The tan is developing quite nicely, thanks. And I've gotten more Christmas shopping done while I've been here, too. Check and check.

I met a guy from Vancouver while I was in Bangkok a few days ago, and he told me that Vancouver had been covered in snow. Egad! I know how that paralyzes the city like nothing else ever could besides a strike that closes all the Starbucks outlets, but here's the real proof.

Day 2 - Vancouver Blizzard 2005 - Revenge of the Commuters

Chilled Vancouver commuters faced their second day of winter hell today, as an additional 1/4 centimeter of the peculiar white stuff fell, bringing the lower mainland to its knees and causing millions of dollars worth of damage to the marijuana crops.

Scientists suspect that the substance is some form of frozen water particles and experts from Saskatchewan are being flown in to assess the situation. With temperatures dipping to the almost, but-not-quite-near, zero mark, Vancouverites were warned to double insulate their lattes before venturing out. Police recommended that people stay inside except for emergencies, such as running out for espresso or biscotti to see them through Vancouver's worst storm in years.

Local Canadian Tire outlets reported that they had completely sold out of their stock of fur-lined sandals. Drivers were cautioned to put their convertible tops up, and several have been shocked to learn that their SUV's actually have four wheel drive, although most have no idea how to use it. Weary commuters faced soggy sushi, and the threat of frozen breast implants. Dr. John Blatherwick, of the Coastal Health Authority reassured everyone that most breast implants were perfectly safe to 25 below.

"The authorities have to do something," snarled angry local resident Trevor Warburton. "I didn't pay $540,000 for my one bedroom condo so I could sit around and be treated like someone from Toronto."

Unfortunately, it's all a bit too true. Nevertheless, it's the place I call home even though I only keep a Vancouver address on paper for tax reasons and I love it.

(Article provided by Muffin. Printed without permission from anyone.)

Jealous bitches

Yesterday I played a very frustrating game of beach volleyball with a whole bunch of Thai guys who had bodies comparable to 11-year-old pre-pubescent girls. I can hold my own on a v-ball court and -- oh my God, trust me when I say this -- I would never ever ask to play if I didn't think I was up to their skill level. Still, they made it pretty clear by their actions that they didn't really think I could keep up to them.

"Hab you eber playyyyed beporrre? Like, is dis yorrre pirst tyyyme?" one of them asked me, while eyeing me up and down with an extremely skeptical look on her his face.

"Uh," I answered, "yes, I can play. But only if you have room for one more."

I should have taken my hint by the fact that there was another white guy playing before I got there. I watched him play a couple of games with them and -- despite the fact that he was one of the best players on the court -- they would never set the guy. When an errant pass wandered in his direction and he had the chance to hit, he always put it away. But when they made a conscious decision on who to set, he was never the lucky recipient. God, after a while it got embarrassing to watch him get ready to hit, but never have the opportunity.

But still I decided to give it a try myself, and they reluctantly allowed me to step on-court. They put me in the back row and clearly have no idea about the concept of rotating I stayed there for the entire game. They appear to play a customized Thai style of the game that sees all front row players stay in the front row, while the back row players similarly never rotate out of no man's land. I tend to be a better front row player -- hello!! I am 6 inches taller than any of the Thai boys who were playing -- but never got the chance to prove it.

Oh ya, and the three back row players just alternate serving for their team. Front row guys never serve at all. Except that, apparently, not all back row guys get to serve. I, for instance, never got that chance at all for some reason related to their need to keep foreigners at a disadvantage unknown to me. Yup, the two other back row divas just took turns serving repeatedly into the net and ignoring my puppy-dog-eyed looks that pleaded with them, "Is it my turn to serve yet?"

What the fuck was this set of rules all about? Not exactly the best way to make a visitor feel welcome. Oh well, I bet none of these guys have 6 medals from international (well, North American) volleyball tournaments shoved away in a trunk somewhere hanging on their walls.

Jealous bitches. They'll never again know the joy of sharing a volleyball court with the likes of me.

Oh, but not all was lost. One of them made it quite clear he would be happy to treat me to a private massage in my room, guaranteeing a happy ending. Uh, no thanks.

My prerogative

This place ain't so bad at all. Nice beach, tons of cheap shopping, plenty of restaurants and night spots to check out. I think I'll try to rent a scooter and venture out around the island tomorrow, and maybe later in the week go on a day trip to Phi Phi Island, where Leo filmed The Beach.

Then again, I may just be a lazy bum and do none of that. It's my prerogative, after all, seeing as how it's my vacation and I write all the rules.

Last night I checked out a few local spots and a couple of cabaret shows. They weren't nearly as raunchy as the one I saw in Bangkok the other night -- praise the lord! -- and were, instead, a bit more laughable than anything. As has been a common sight on my previous trip to Thailand (Koh Samui), the attempts to lip synch while dealing with a marginal command of the English language made some of the numbers hilarious. In particular, the drag queen doing her rendition of a Celine ditty was enough to turn anyone off Ms. Dion. Sorry, let me clarify: anyone who isn't already turned off by Ms. Dion.

For some reason, I tend to attract Thai guys. Having said that, however, I think any white guy who looks like he may have money tends to attract Thai guys. But last night I couldn't help noticing a tall white guy who kept looking at me. Now, when a guy is cruising me, I can tend to be a bit clueless most of the time on occasion. This guy, however, couldn't have been more freakin' obvious.

I wasn't remotely interested, so it took all of my considerable skill to avoid his constant glares and ever-obvious attempts to cross paths with me. In fact, it eventually became a bit of a game for me to steer clear of Tall Guy over the course of a couple of hours. But by evening's end, I was able to give myself an internal high-five at the fact that I managed to elude him and make my way safely back home alone.

So today dawns and I make my way to the beach. Ploppin' my big ol' body on a beach chair, who do I see two chairs away? Damn, it's Tall Guy. Still, I figured I was up to the task of avoidance yet again, and managed to keep to myself for a couple of hours until he blatantly walked up to me and started asking questions on the premise of how long I've had my tatoo, did it hurt, etc.

"Fine," I thought, "I'll be polite and talk to him." And I did the gentlemanly thing, conducting polite conversation with Tall Guy, who happened to be from Germany. I even let him introduce his friends to me and continued talking with them all. We talked politics, we talked about some changes the German government is making to the German language, we talked about different holiday hotspots, we talked about Americans, we talked about Vancouver. We talked about a lot of things, but at no time did I ever give him any indication that I was interested in him in any way. So, of course, it came as somewhat of a surprise when he started hittin' on me in a big bad way. Dumb-ass German guy.

So there's me doing my best avoid-eye-contact-at-any-and-all-costs routine. I'm moving away from him physically and making every kind of effort to remove myself emotionally from our conversation. And still, he persists. Dumb-ass German guy.

Jeepers, why can't people pick up on visual cues? I'm literally doing everything I can to give him the news without being rude. Finally, however, I had to make it clear that I wasn't interested in anything except conversation. He didn't take it that well. Dumb-ass German guy.

Back in Bangers for beaucoup de bargains

It's amazing just how cheap the street shopping is in Bangkok. You can walk among the vendors of the filthy, overcrowded, no-place-to-let-your-kids-run-amongst-it-all lanes and alleys of Bangkok and get nearly anything you need.

Need a pair of knock-off designer jeans/sunglasses/shoes/anything? They got it. How 'bout a fake designer watch/tie/handbag/logo shirt/anything? Natch. Searching for that new chart-topping CD or just-released-in-theatres DVD? Bangers is your place. And it just goes on and on.

Now, I'm not one for designer goods -- authentic or otherwise -- but it's hard not to think how easy it would be to look like a complete poser a million bucks by picking up some of this crap. In fact, it wasn't hard to see the bastiens of middle America lappin' it all up. I can just hear Mrs. Sylvia Saddlebags talkin' lying to her neighbour back home in Topeka, Kansas: "Oh ya, Edna, it's an authentic designer Looo-is Vooo-tawn handbag that I picked up. My husband Morty is very good to me."

Nope, that ain't my game. Instead, I opt for the cache of goods that aren't designer rip-offs. Consider that I picked up a neat bundle of 3 silk ties for the equivalent of $6 Canadian. They aren't rip-offs of any famous designer or anything like that, just good quality, 100% silk, beautiful ties that will probably sit in my sock drawer cuz I don't wear ties anymore will look nice with a crisp dress shirt.

The whole Bangers atmosphere is surreal. The crowds, the heat and humidity, the pollution -- oy, the pollution!! -- and the Asian mystique. While I didn't see a ping pong show in some cheap girly bar, I did have the displeasure of watching an interesting "cabaret" show put on by a plethora of underfed Thai boys in a way-at-the-end-of-a-drk-alley dive bar. The show started with an onstage parade of clones in matching white outfits, all for the benefit of the creepy men in the audience to pick out a favourite boy to be their viewing companion for the remainder of the evening. Ick. And the "entertainment" continued with a candle-and-wax dance, a traditional Thai dance (actually the traditional choreography and costumes were stunning), followed by a very unique naked water ballet number,and finishing up with a live sex act that started onstage and moved into the audience.

It was about that time that I gracefully made my exit. While I felt that I had to at least take in some of the seedy nightlife of Bangkok, on that level it's just not erotic.

I flew from Bangers to Phuket this morning, arriving at Patong Beach to find free internet in my hotel room. Hence this post, and (hopefully) a few more to come while I'm here.

Now excuse me while I go outside and explore this place!