Can It Get More Exciting?
Oh. My. God.
El Poema and I have pretty well settled on where and when we’ll be going for our Pacific beach getaway. Fittingly, we made these plans on the first snowy day in Halifax.
The dates: December 21st to the 26th. Yup! How appropriate that I, who longs all year for time on the beach, will be spending Christmas on the beach! If we can make reservations, we hope to get a cabana at this place, in Zipolite, Oaxaca State.
There might be cheaper, more modest places in Zipolite. But like I told El Poema, we have to spend so much time apart, we should do everything we can to make our time together the fucking best — pun not intended, but I suppose appropriate.
As I write this, it is 0C in Halifax, 22C in Mexico City, and 28C in Puerto Escondido where we’d fly to get to Zipolite.
A Grab Bag to Catch Up
So, I haven’t blogged much lately, have I! There’s definitely a correlation between that and being awfully busy. But let me try to catch up a little.
The Incorrigible Asshole
It’s 10:00 am as I start this post, and the music has started already from Dr. Snake Oil Salesman (a.k.a. Pig Fucker). Last night was a treat: music coming from upstairs and rumbling sounds coming from the new neighbour downstairs who was watching some action movie DVD with his kickass surround-sound system. It bugs me that the sound proofing in this building is so poor, and after working 10+ hours each day, all I want is quiet and not feel like I live in a university dorm.
Incidentally, the stomping from upstairs I reported recently may not be Dr. SOS as much as his new live-in cow girlfriend whom I doubt is the mother of the 4-year-old who stays part-time. With only four-and-a-half months left before I move to Montréal, I’m starting to wonder if my approach should be one of “Let’s Make a Deal”: Give me peace for the short time I have left and you can resume being your normal inconsiderate asshole self after I’m gone. I pity those who’ll replace me, though, and I worry that I’m an old fart who’s just not suited for apartment living.
I Can Spread the Good News Now
I’ve made several allusions recently to the fact something good was afoot at the day job but that I couldn’t talk about it just yet. Well, now I can, and when I tell you, you’ll probably wonder why I had to be so secretive. But that’s just the way it goes when things aren’t official yet.
I am now a permanent, full-time employee at the day job. For my first 18 months, I was contractual. I suppose the writing was on the wall: one of the assignments I’ve been given (which, as it turns out, has yet to start) clearly didn’t have an end date, unlike a project that has a finite definition like calling a gazillion clients and doing this, this and that with them, and once that’s done in so many months, the project is over. However, although I saw this as a good sign, I didn’t want to assume — and thus I didn’t assume — that permanence was around the corner.
This new status is opening up a lot of opportunities and giving me access to some great benefits. But again, that only reinforces the notion in my mind that this job is an enabler — the means to an end rather than the end in itself. Yes, I now hold a corporate job, but I’m still not a corporate creature.
Time and Snow Flying
Great. The first wintry nor’easter is heading towards the Maritimes. We’re not expecting much more than 10 cm of heavy, wet snow by the end of it, but it’s still awfully early to be getting snow. I’m glad El Poema and I are planning to spend a few days at the beach in late December.
But it’s not just snow that’s flying; so is time. What is it about that? It seems that everybody I speak to is finding that time is flying by faster than ever before. The only segment of time that seems to be dragging a little bit for me is the “Countdown to El Poema,” and even that isn’t so bad. We started it when it was just shy of 100 days, and we’re now in the 30s — just a shade more than one month. In other words, we’ve been waiting much more than we have left to wait.
For me, the wait is harder some days than others. Some days, like yesterday, I wish that time would go by even faster so that we can really figure out where we’re heading. Other days I’m perfectly at peace with the wait. But invariably, all I want is …well …us.
Not Another Replay!
You’ll recall how I wrote not long ago that I have a terrible memory for movies I’ve seen. Well, it happened again last night with Amores Perroes (Life’s a Bitch) …except again only partially. This time it was the middle part of the movie, namely the portion that focuses on Valeria and Daniel. It’s probably a consequence of my days as a night owl, when I’d work through the night and take breaks in front of the TV or watch a bit before heading to bed. The moment Valeria’s high-heel shoe punched a hole in the hardwood floor, I said to myself, “Here we go again!” But I definitely hadn’t seen the first portion, and I know now that I never saw the ending before. At any rate, yes, what that imdb reviewer wrote is correct: Amores Perros is “far better and more complex” than Y Tu Mamá También.
Unrelated to the film itself: Because I have an ancient TV set, when I bought my cheap DVD player two years ago, I had to get some kind of adapter to plug the latter to the former. The problem with that setup is that some DVDs with super-surround sound, the voice track is missing; I only hear the ambient sound but do see the subtitles. Even though I need the subtitles for a film like Amores Perros, it’s discombobulating not to hear what’s spoken. When I looked at the DVD settings, I had a choice of that or dubbing in French with English subtitles, so obviously I chose the French even though I hate dubbing.
Now you should understand why I don’t plan to move some of my stuff to Montréal, like my ugly and heavy sofa and that old TV set. Better to save the hassle of moving such junk and simply get new stuff once I’m settled into my new place. For many apartments in Montréal, that could include big-ticket items like a fridge, a stove, and a washer and dryer. But if I’m choosing to go to Rome, I have to accept to do as the Romans…