Imagine I wrote something clever

Then pretend I wrote a long a witty post all about stuff and things. To be honest, I have neither the time or wit to even attempt doing this as a reality.

As I type this, my wife is in the hospital and apparently they're not going to let her leave without a baby.

I'm off.

Hinterland Who's Who

This weeks subject: Diamondium Seller Alloterous - Post Christmas Rush

It's a time of winding down for our tired little sales associate. The holiday rush has left him physically drained, and feeling a little woozy. His habitat, once a model of order and aesthetics, now lies in chaos and smells... sort of odd.

By the number of socks discarded under his computer desk, one can easily tell how many days it's been since the last time laundry was attempted. We can also make a rough estimate to the last time dish-washing occurred by a quick glance at the number of improvised drinking containers on the kitchen counter. Martini and wine glasses for orange juice, a measuring cup for diet cola, a flower vase for iced tea... based on the creativity displayed here, I'd say probably about two weeks since dishes have been done. This, of course, should explain much of the odd smell.

By late boxing day, much of the mess is cleaned up, or at the very least rinsed and straightened. He takes a quick moment then, to regroup and ready himself for the onslaught of ring sizing and exchanges in the weeks to come. Time enough to catch up on the odds and ends of housework in the new year.

Until Valentine's day.

Relax. Think. What would Obi Won Kenobi do?

It's Christmas Eve eve now. Only 7 more shopping-hours left, and I'm on full force tomorrow.

Only not really.

If you missed the memo, I'm about to be a dad to a little baby girl. Soon! I love her already, and once I see her for real... once I cut that umbilical cord... I'm done for. I just know it.

I still haven't really decided if maybe I want to "catch the baby". Does one need training for that? I'm more calm in extreme situations than I am in normal circumstance, if that makes any sense. It's the way I roll. Does that somehow qualify me?

Does it mess up the birth plan if I decide now, only weeks (days?) away, that I do want to catch my baby? I kind of just decided on this idea only moments after starting this post, to be honest. Who knows, maybe I'll change my mind by morning, as this is also the way I roll.

All I know is I'm very torn about being a good daddy and selling a carat before tomorrow is done. Well, not really torn... It would be just swell if the little one can wait till the new year, but if that's not the case and we get an extra special Christmas gift this year, my loyalties, or rather priorities, lie with my daughter, through and through.

As for the nonsense-conflict of yesterday? It never mattered in the first place, and so has no impact on the now.

Perhaps I am Jedi, after all. If maybe only a little bit.

Ho Ho Holy Hell

Seven hours from right now, I'll be dragging my tired self to a Christmas breakfast and 'Kris Kringle' gift exchange for my work. I wish I could sleep.

Don't get me wrong, I love my work... probably more than I ever have, but there's always the underlying politics of retail and the hidden soap opera dramatics that go on in any given consumer oriented environment, especially come the holiday season.

I would like to think I'm Jedi-like enough to observe all these goings-on without it impacting my life, but who am I kidding? Really. I have such a desire to be liked by everybody all the time, regardless of who they are or what they've done to me in the past. I'm conscious enough of this personal trait to know it's probably not a good thing, and also conscious enough that it makes me mental that I can't (don't?) do anything about it, and then when I do, I feel guilty about it all.

For example, today I got caught up it this bit of nonsense where a fancy-pants perpetual calendar watch was returned under my name in error, then resold under another employee's name only to be refunded again under my name once again. Two negatives for me, where I deserved only one, and a positive for another, who deserved nothing at all.

I was clearly in the right to bring up the fact that a mistake was made with the return-purchase-return that occurred, which I did, but all I could seem to concentrate on was the fact that I was creating a conflict over what amounted to $10 in commission. It's still bothering me now, 12 hours later. I just don't like to rock the boat.

Maybe it's because she who did the return-purchase-return has been holding some sort of mysterious grudge against me since I gained my diamontology certification (8 months earlier than she was able to). Maybe I'm even imagining all that. Perhaps it's simply that I'm assuming this person doesn't like me, and now it's manifesting into a reality....

Yes, my brain really works this way.

Then again, it could be that this person has it in for me because I make them feel threatened. Maybe they don't like me because I'm a geek. Who knows? It could be completely irrational, yet damn good, absolute reason for them to not like me in their own little mind. I'll probably never know, and certainly shouldn't care as much as I do. If I'm in the right, I shouldn't be afraid to stick up for myself.

I see it all from other perspectives like this when I'm at peace and out of the moment, like now. At 3:00 this afternoon, it was all I could do to not start smoking again. It drives me nuts that I don't have the control to have this patience and reasoning in the moment. I need to work on that. I want that ability.

It's like every once in a while, I should be asking myself, "How would Obi Wan handle this?"

Perhaps more than once in a while.

I think I need to go watch Star Wars. It's been a very, very long time....

I love the smell of commerce in the morning.

I notice I haven't posted in a while, and seeing as we're coming into the busiest week of the year for the type of business I'm in, I figured I should write something while now, while I have the chance.

For the past two years now, I've gloated about not working in retail anymore - how wonderfully stress-free it all is - how amazing the holiday hours are in the municipal ad private sectors of the community - blah blah blah. But alas, I strive on stress, and this past three weeks as a diamontologist at Christmas-time has proven to be an increasingly wonderful experience.

I love the adrenaline rush of the sale, and especially in selling the product I do, which surprises even myself on a near-daily basis.

I'm such a geek; have been since I was about 6. It used to be that I primarily sold computers, televisions, stereos, batteries, and connectors...oh the connectors I've sold! I liked the work fine...at times, I'd say I even loved it.

However...

I sold my first carat Canadian Diamond the day before last, and as a whole, it was the best sale I ever made. It's not that I made a high commission on the sale, or even that it made my numbers look good for the week. In reality, I've sold computers at twice the cost of said diamond. The difference lies in that the computers I sold way back when are probably worth about $35.00 now, but the diamond I sold the other day will still be worth $4000.00 in ten years. Mayhaps more.

It's like I've always had a passion for retail and sales, but that fire has always stopped at the product I was pushing. I now have found something I can really believe in. Something that appreciates instead of depreciating... and hey! It's Canadian! Not made in Japan, but mined, cut, and polished in Canada. Who can argue with that?

Anyway that's all I have to blog about at the moment. All the positive stuff. There are negatives to my work, but it's best not to concentrate on those at the moment, I think. I'm sure there will be a time for several pages of rant during and/or after boxing week.

Of ball pythons and light-sabers.

I noticed Armand out on his rocks this evening, and decided to take a little reptile friendly photography. This is, of course, Armand from my wife's "The Ark" post from not so long ago.



It almost looks like he's been over-photoshopped, but in fact I've done nothing but crop and darken the image a little. In effort to not stress our cold blooded friend out, I opted to not use a flash, and instead did a timed exposure while 'painting' the inside of the tank with a medium strength LED beam - hence the blueish tinge.

That's it for the ball python portion of the post. As for the light saber part, I take no responsibility for the following vid - just something I found a while back and it still makes me laugh uncontrollably so I figured I'd share. Tis the season and all....



An elegant weapon, for a more civilized age. :-)

A long time ago on a web-domain far, far away....

I used to blog about Star Wars. A lot. Never mind blog about it, I used to eat, sleep, and breath Star Wars. I had a quote for every occasion, and was chastised daily for attempting the Jedi Mind Trick on my wife.

I'm not so much like that now, and I've come to realize, it's not a HUGE deal if some people like Star Trek better than Star Wars, the galaxy DOESN'T implode if I go a month without watching the original trilogy, and it doesn't ALWAYS have to be all about Star Wars....


:-)


....because let's face it, sometimes it's all about Nintendo.

The Wedding Tree

It had been my intention to not post pictures in this journal, but in the end that's not really who I am. So, to amend my original pictureless mandate, I'm going to have 'very few' photos in this journal. Starting with this one:



This tree/plant thing was a gift to my wife and I on our wedding day. Yesterday I took the time to re-pot it into the larger, more accommodating home you see above. I've never had much of a green thumb, so I'm surprised it went as well as it did. It looks healthier than ever today, despite my gardening inabilities.

Perhaps it's that the tree is simply as strong and durable as our marriage. A cheesy thought, perhaps, but a warm one and I'm going to think it.

A Moment of Feeling Very Old

"Have you ever tried simply turning off the tv, sitting down with your children and hitting them?"

--Bender Bending Rodriguez unit 22 (Futurama)

My wife and I were talking the other night, about the different children's programming available and what sorts of shows we would or (mostly) would not allow into our home to be viewed again, and again, and again.

And again.

All hail the age of digital video discs. Or not. Only 25 years ago, when my mother would take us to rent a movie, we would have to rent a machine to play said movie, and then it would go back to the video store the following day and we'd be left with no movies and no VCR to play them on. It was usually upon this realization that my sister and I would suck it up and go play outside, or draw disturbing cartoons, or play with Lego... well you get the picture.

Then in 1986 that all changed for my family. The war between Beta and VHS had an end in sight, so we decided to buy one of those fandagle VCR machines. Thinking about it, I believe it was really a "Sharp", not a fandangle. Anyway it was a gargantuan, shiny silver affair with a tape carriage that popped out from the top of the unit. The monstrosity didn't even have a remote. Just 2 head, mono, analogue technology at its best. It was pretty great. But it marked the end of an age.

As prices dropped on VCRs and tapes, and then with the introduction of DVD, parents have to endure more and more crap kiddie shows on repeat. In 1983, there was no instant gratification anywhere. Now it's impossible to avoid. I feel old because of this shift, I think. That is all.

At Least The Chump Was Good For Something

My wife and I both have had our moments in the past where it seemed like AA was an obvious direction for us to go in.

There was a time, not too long ago (February), where a mickey of vodka only had a chance of lasting a couple millifortnights (about forty-five minutes) in our household. Of course, we only purchased forty-ouncers and 26ers in those days to save on trips to the liquor store. Somebody looking at our blue-box at the end of the week would think we were operating an after-hours bar. It was all about getting as wrecked as possible, as quickly as possible, almost always.

In addition to all this, I had the brilliant plan to quit smoking cigarettes by smoking an insane amount of pot in lieu of tobacco. Joint for cigarette, I'd say I was inhaling about the same amount of carcinogens, only getting much more fucked up and interacting with some more-than-sketchy people in the process. It's a wonder I was able to blurt out a wedding proposal to my wife, now that I really think about it.

But I did. She said yes. And now 10 months later, we're going to be parents of a healthy baby girl.

The love of my life quit drinking entirely once she found out she was pregnant, and I cut down drastically, followed by quiting altogether, drinking stupid again for a short while, and finally settling in to what I can only define as being a moderate drinker.

My wife sent me this article this morning, which helps me believe I'm not just delusional in thinking this is possible. Hey, if it's on the intertube, so it MUST be true.

My motivation for my current drink habit; my boozing role-model, as it were, is actually my father. You won't oft hear me talk about him, as he's been pretty useless this last 15 years of my life. When it came to moderate drinking though, I must say the man knew what he was doing.

He could make a bottle of brandy last for months, only having a snifter or two a couple days out of the week. I seem to have adopted this strange (to me) technique of drinking without even trying to. I've had the same bottle of gin in my freezer for about 6 weeks now, taking it out once or twice a week an hour before having a gibson - and then stopping at one or two gibsons.

It's all about the flavour of the drink now, with perhaps an afterthought to the warming effect of the alcohol. It's certainly not about getting wasted anymore. For example, the other night I was really in the mood for a rum and Coke, garnished with lime - a Cuba Libre, so to speak. Having only gin in the house, I wound up having a glass of water with my fried balogna sandwich instead.

Anyway, that's all I had to say on this issue. I'm hanging on to the few precious brain cells I have remaining to be the most effective parent possible. No more drunken stupors for me. Also, I don't mean for this to be an anti-AA post. I honestly think that for some people, that's the only thing that can work. I'm happy though, that I'm not one of those people. I don't need booze, but I do enjoy it.

From time to time.

As for the smoking of pot? Done and done. Sage-like advice, again from my dad and with my whole-hearted agreement... "that stuff is bad news."

Santa Claus, and ho-ho-ho, deck them halls, and all that stuff.

Two years ago, I blogged about how grateful I was to no longer be in the retail industry for the Christmas Season. At the time, I felt lucky to avoid that crazy mall rush, with the exception of those occasions where I had to go purchase cat food or beer.

It was a time of excessive drinking, excessive smoking, and little responsibility. No, that's not right... There was responsibility, I simply chose to ignore it. I was working a sort of government job, which allowed my lifestyle of indulgence to flourish over the holiday season. Every other day seemed to be a paid day off, which would inevitably be spent bringing part or all of my paycheck to the LCBO to stock up on holiday cheer.

Boy, how times have changed.

This year, I'm working in a commissioned retail position, and loving every minute of it. It's not like any of my consumer electronics jobs of the past, although until very recently I was doing that as a second job also. Then I decided I was worth more than $8.85 an hour and am now putting all my concentration on job number "A".

Anyway, now the paychecks go to things like paying bills, saving for my negative one month old baby girl, and the life-style I want to provide for my family. I've been shifting slowly into this mindset (wallet-set?) over the past 8 months, but with setting up the Christmas tree that shift seems to have finally gone firmly into gear.

I want my little one to have Christmas like I had Christmas. Filled with magic and family. By magic, I mean home-made gifts and baking; a tree trimmed with a generous proportion of child made ornaments - pine cones painted and dipped in glitter, popcorn strings, and the like; Nana Mouskouri belting out Christmas carols in a dozen different languages, and my sister and I getting up early on a Saturday morning, not to watch cartoons, but to light the tree and play "I spy" with the ornaments.

I recall one Christmas, when I was in grade one, which really defined the season for me. I compare every other Christmas to it. It would have been 1982. Algoma steel was on strike, meaning my father was out of a job, I had a crazy grade one teacher who would explain to the class exactly what the cold-war was and why we should be afraid of it, and Jedi was still a year from being released...and yet, it was the best Christmas ever.

We lived in Gros Cap at the time on a heavily forested chunk of land. Somewhere around mid-December my sister, my father and I went out onto the property to hunt and cut down the perfect Christmas tree. Once we got it home, my dad cursed over tangled lights and beads, while my sister and I set up the nativity scene. My sis' would complain that I kept putting baby Jesus on the roof, and my mother would say to let me have my way, as I was just a kid.

Presents that year were largely of the home-made variety. I recall a big wooden chest filled with a plastic building set, similar to Mechano, but with gears and sprockets, and they were all separated by size and type into custom sized compartments. Looking back on it, I must say having a finishing carpenter for a father was a pretty cool thing. I think that was also the year that he made desks for my sister and I, and if it was, that would also be the year I discovered Santa Claus wasn't entirely real.

It was tradition on Christmas eve, that we'd go over to Memere's for dinner and gifts, and while we were there, Santa would visit our house and lay gifts under the tree for when we returned. Once we got in the car, my folks would always forget something in the house and have to go back in. What they had forgotten, of course, was to play Santa and set out the presents.

The year of the desks, it took so long for them to move said furniture from it's hiding spot in my dad's workshop to the living room, and I was bugging my sister SO much about the time it was taking them while waiting in that cold car, that she finally gave in and told me the truth.

So, there you have it. My best Christmas ever. I want my child to have x-mas memories like I do. Not necessarily the same memories, but ones as vivid and warming, to say the least.

I'm kind of afraid to say it, wife, but I think our baby girl will need a little brother or sister eventually.

And by the way....I sometimes still like to put baby Jesus on the roof. :-P