Rednecks and Ricky Martin.

Well, I was pretty sure that one of the reasons I moved up here was to get away from the sticky, lame heat in the summertime in Northern Virginia. Well I can honestly say that lately, it has been just as sticky and lame up here. Wouldn’t you know it, the one summer I move up here, all of a sudden there seems to be some sort of freaking anomaly that has made the weather here almost unbearable as well. Oh well, at least I don’t have to sit in the heat and smell the stink of the Youth Hostel as well, although on windy days I think I can still smell it from here…maybe it’s in my clothes.

I am steadily continuing with my better half to make all the nessecary wedding plans, which some of you may or may not know is a freaking Pandora’s box of it’s own. It seems that for every detail that is finally solidified, three more pop into question, such as ” What color do we make the silly string that’s on the car of the married couple? Should it match the groom’s eyes or the bride’s flowers? And what about the garbage bags in the reception hall? What color should they be?” At this point we should have just gone to Vegas and done the drive thru thing. Kudos to my friend Andy for having extreme foresight there…

I continue on my quest to try and understand the things that make Canadians well, Canadians. Let’s see if you can get your head around this one. The town I live in contains a plethora of businesses, all of which close at 5 pm. Everyone works until exactly 4:30 pm. That means that once you get off work you pretty much have no chance of getting anywhere you need to be before it closes. So what does everyone end up doing? They do it ALL on the weekends. You can only imagine what 800 redneck old people on the roads on a Saturday will do to one’s disposition. Ok, maybe this is a small town thing, not nessecarily a Canadian thing, but I don’t really want to argue semantics here. You guys can do that with Andy.

For those interested, my dog is doing well, and will be going to get fixed (ouch) soon. No more bang bang long time for him. He does continue to astound us with the depths of his stupidity, such as walking into doors, chasing his tail to no end, and choking himself indefinitely when on the leash for a walk. Did I mention that he starts obedience school in September? Oh yeah baby, I’m hoping that they will show me how to train him to fetch a sandwich from the kitchen like that dog on t.v.

I hear that they’re playing musical residents down there at the Youth Hostel. I wouldn’t worry. With Ricky being a former college student, I suspect they will have no problem finding any number of mindless frat idiots who need a place to put their beat up mattress, ghetto blaster, and ‘Girls of Budweiser’ calendar. MMM, high society living at it’s finest. Within a week or two, the 7-Eleven burrito wrappers should probably be three or four deep on the floor.

Well, I guess that’s about all I have to say for now. Domestic life up here is fairly tame, the only thing I really have to get mad about is the lame VJ’s and videos on MUCHMusic. If I see a Ricky Martin video one more time, I’m gonna be ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca’ while I’m putting my foot through the tv.

Hello all.

Things are going well here in the Great White North. Except that it is all wet. We got about 6 feet of snow one day, then it rained all day the next day. The snow melt combined with the rain got our house wet. On the inside. In the basement. Via a crack in the foundation wall. Let me paint a picture for you. Me, standing out in zero degree temps, snowblowing what could only be described as slush away from the house and digging a big hole against the house to patch the foundation. To say that I was soaked would be an understatement. I would like however, to thank Jim at Hudson Trail Outfitters in Fairfax for selling me the Columbia snow suit before I left. It made a HUGE difference. Thanks. You should all go visit him and tell him I said hi, and buy stuff. It makes him happy.

Let’s see, what else is new. I hear that another female (maybe a second by the time you read this) has moved into the Hostel. Don’t give up the fight boys! Don’t let them out number you, or soon there will be pastel towels in the bathroom!

I hear that mutual friend Lapo, has gone gay. It was bound to happen sooner or later, actually, I always knew that he had it in him. Quite literally.

I continue to make plans with Lyn for our impending nuptuials. I never realized how much stuff one has to buy to get married. Aren’t you supposed to get free stuff? It’s kind of like paying for your own birthday party. On a similar note, although I would love to have every one of my old friends at the event, I fully realize that for geographic and economical reasons, some of you may not be able to attend. The wedding is August 27th of this year. I’ll leave it up to you guys. If you would like to come, you are welcome. Send me an email and I will get you an invite and details on how to get here, cost, places to stay, other things to do while you’re here and other stuff. This way, I won’t be spending about 1000 bucks on invites that may only yield 3 attendees. Not that you all aren’t worth it. Haha. If you can’t come, I understand, but we simply can’t be friends anymore. Just kidding. We can still be friends, maybe, if you send a big enough gift.

I mentioned in the sidebar that this installment would contain a discussion of curling. Well, it would except that I still haven’t figured it out. I can tell you a few things about it though, and they are as follows.

1. This sport makes little or no sense to the untrained observer.

2. In light of point #1, I will still try to make some sense.

3. The game is played by two teams on ice, who slide rocks and attempt to get them inside a designated area to score points. Imagine shuffleboard on ice. Sort of.

4. You must yell a lot to play this game. The four players on each team are always yelling at each other. Words such as ‘heavy’, ‘hard’, ‘hurry’, ‘good’, ‘whoa’, and ‘clean’ in addition to others are thrown about a lot. At first, I found myself aroused hearing these words shouted at me, as I was watching womens curling at the time. I thought I must have stumbled onto some combination wintersports/adult channel and was hoping that up next would be the lesbian naked pairs figure skating. Then I realized, quite to my dismay, that they were using these words with regards to the game. What each word means in relation to the game is still somewhat a mystery to me. I still enjoyed the yelling though, does that make me naughty?

5. A game consists of what I have determined to be 8 or 10 ‘ends’ or periods, which makes no sense either. If you play one ‘end’, how can you play 7 more? Isn’t the ‘end’ the END?

6. There is ALWAYS curling on tv in Canada.

7. Curling on TV is habit forming. It sucks you in. There is no action, no fast movement, no snappy music, but it’s like falling asleep to the air conditionerit sort of hypnotizes you. It sends messages to your brain that say “Come. Sit. Watch me for hours. Try to solve the riddle that is curling. Do or do not, there is no try. I am the walrus.”

8. I, and you, are not smart enough to play this game. The announcers discuss strategy and positioning in terms that would make MacArthur drool. I assumed they were just banging rocks around, but OH NO, every bump has a purpose, every play a whole hidden agenda. You cannot be privvy to this information unless you are a player, and to be a player, you have to be a master of motion, dynamics, physics and chemistry. At first glance it looks like a bunch of goofballs throwing rocks around on the ice and yelling like idiots, but don’t be fooled, it is the majesty and the mystery that is curling.

Now, if there is anyone out there that is a curler (is that even the right term?), don’t take offense to my little dissertation. I am only one of the lowly ones, the ‘unknowers’ that don’t partake in your sport. I play hockey. Which in your opinion may be just guys skating around beating each other with sticks, but to me it’s so much more. To me it’s guys beating each other with sticks, but also swearing a lot and drinking too much beer afterwards. That’s what takes it to the next level.

For all of you back in the States, my friends that are reading this and are unfamiliar with curling, let me just sum up by saying this:

You’ll know as soon as I do. Until then, stay tuned as I will continue to report on the strange customs of your neighbour to the north. (Such as spelling neighboor with a ‘u’.)

Mirror, mirror.

It’s a new year now. Get out and do stuff that you wouldn’t normally do.

It’s about kidding yourself. And being an idiot.

Every year we all make a bunch of lame resolutions. I’m gonna eat better. I’m gonna get in shape. I’m gonna spend less money all that good stuff….

….and it happens…for like 2 weeks. Then you blow it off. It’s a joke. We shouldn’t need a holiday or a specific passage of time in order to make an excuse for us to better ourselves.

You wouldn’t be making these ‘resoultions’ in the middle of the year would you? Maybe you should. maybe you should resolve this year to better yourself everytime you have the opportunity, not just at midnight when you have a funny hat on and a drink in your hand. Better yourself for the actual benefit of winding up a better person, not because it’s fashionable or you need something to talk to people about the first two weeks of the year. If that’s the case, resolve to become a better conversationalist.

I resolve not to resolve anything. To leave it all wide open and see where it goes. I will tackle stuff on the way and there by gain small victories of self along the way as well. These little battles are the stuff that shapes us as people and makes life more interesting…

…are you sure you want to limit yourself to just one at the beginning of the year?