Tuesdae's Child

is watching the temperature climb with mixed feelings. Sometimes, fall should be fall - sweaters and scarves and warm coats; layers and toques and hot drinks in your hand as you crunch through the leaves in the fog.

I see the weather says we should be back up into the mid-high 20s, though, by the end of the week. This is good for my folks, who will be visiting with me, but bad for me because I want to wear sweaters not flipflops. Who would have thought that I'd be longing for cool air and frosty mornings? I think probably it's just how much I love fall clothes. Summer clothes are sundresses, but psychologically I can't wear a sundress in mid-November. Plus people here look at you funny: once the date clicks past October they're in full winter gear no matter what the temperature. OK maybe not parkas but you get the drift.

This funny in-between life has me in a funny headspace. I'm not unhappy, but I'm not happy. I feel like I'm just waiting for something, but I have no idea what that something is. I want to re-invent myself, maybe, find a new style a new look a new way of thinking about the world. I want to get excited about something. I'm victim to the post-obama melancholy. Yes we can, but can we? what can we do?

I wrote a letter yesterday to appeal to the sympathies of the US government - to ask them to please process my application for permission to travel in time for me to go home for Christmas. I've never spent it away from Calvin. I don't want to start now.

a yay yay whoa-oh

never let it be said that god is not a reasonable man. i asked for sun, and i got sun. it may have been pouring rain at the same time, but it was sunny...

sorry god, but let it never be said that i am unwilling to call you on the stupid games you play with our lives.

anyhoo - onward. one of the other less than palatable aspects to living in vancouver is the proliferation of nickleback sound-alikes. because chad the apostle (what is WITH the god thing i have going on today) and his er... followers? merry men? bandmates? whichevs... because they are based out of vancouver and have named their record label 604 (the superior area code here in the lower mainland), vancity has adopted them as their own (i think that they are originally from calgary*, which says alot about their particular brand of cowboy rock). sooooo...... any band that is nickleback, is produced by nickleback, or sounds like nickleback is treated with a reverence usually reserved for luminaries such as the pope, the queen mum**, and david suzuki.

the music that these bands produce*** is infectious enough**** (therein lies their popularity) but normally i'm fairly immune to it. oh sure you may catch yourself tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you sit in traffic, but if any of your friends noticed you doing it you would absolutely try and pass it off as a tic, or impatience, or some kind of seizure*****.

this morning, however, i found myself singing along with one of these nickleclones - specifically the refrain haphazardly reproduced as the title up there. fortunately i was in the car by myself and (as we all know) when you are in your car you are invisible to surrounding cars. i couldn't help myself - the tune was catchy, and infectious******, and if i closed my eyes i could picture myself on the top of ol' smokey yorbling away joyously.

well at least until i almost hit a telephone pole. then i opened my eyes and changed the station.


*i've just realized that i've been hacking on calgary a lot this week. i'm not sure why and no offense, sass.

**is the queen mum still alive? i really have no idea.

***the verb, not the noun. we have nothing against fruits and vegetables here in the sundae sanatorium.

****like herpes, or some sort of angry red rash.

*****i find that the addition of a head shake or two, and some explosive tourettes-like profanity goes a long way towards reinforcing this ruse..

******damn rash