So my erstwhile favourite mental patient called me yesterday. I was at work, of course, but he dictated to my father, complete with an emphasis on proper punctuation, a litany of accusations towards me; to wit., "how could you forsake/betray/ignore me," "what can I do to make it better so we can live together," blah blah blah.
My brother said it would be funny if he weren't crazy. I told him it was still funny.
I mean, yes, I feel kind of bad that he's this way, but he brought a lot of it upon himself, I think. And, you know, maybe I would feel bad if we were still friends, but we're not, because he was so awful to me many years ago. I've forgiven him for it, because time does heal all wounds and whatnot, but that doesn't mean I want to foster a new acquaintance with someone who's not even him any more.
So our dream apartment on Highcroft was listed on Craigslist last night - that's a pretty good indication that we're not getting it.
We went to view a hole of a place this morning and then the landlord didn't show up. So we got another viewing in the area behind the Civic. In some ways it's not as pretty as the dream apartment, but in other ways it's nicer. It's way bigger, three full bedrooms, two bathrooms. Four appliances: fridge, stove, washer, dryer. Front and back entrances, tile floors, and it's HUGE (did I already say that?). $1350, but worth it. Our potential landlord is very very Italian, so things are immaculate and running perfectly. And she seems a motherly sort, so she may feed us on occasion, while encouraging us to make babies, pronto.
But I put some photos (not very good ones, but it's hard to photograph an apartment) up on flickr.
So I caved and I got SUCKED INTO THE MAELSTROM that is Facebook.
Also, I watched Pirates of the Caribbean last night. Not as ridiculous as the second, and way too long. But okay.
(In Chronological Order)
Thing the First:
Remember when I mentioned, I guess it was two summers ago, that I had received an email from someone I used to love and trust and no longer loved and trusted? Well, turns out this said person is now certifiable, is living in the Civic Psychiatric Ward, and has been attempting to escape for the past few days to come and visit me. This he tells me on the phone when he calls at 7:15 on Monday morning. One of the things he mentioned was that on a recent escape, wherein he made it all the way to the park across from my house before he was recaptured, he saw a house for sale on a street a few blocks away, and asked me what he had to do in order for us to buy it and live in it in married bliss.
Then I spent the next twenty minutes or so telling him not to escape again on Monday, that I would go see him on Tuesday. It was like arguing with a poetry-spouting rock. Right before he hangs up on me, he tells me he's going to pull the fire alarm and escape and come and see me, despite my promises to see him on Tuesday. I call the hospital back, am misdirected, and get hold of the psychiatric nurse just as the fire alarm goes off. "He's just pulled the fire alarm," I say. "What? I can't hear you. The fire alarm has just been pulled!" she says. Fortunately he is successfully thwarted.
Tuesday, like I promised, I go to the hospital to visit him. I have a brief meeting with the psychiatric nurse, and we both decide that, as he's so strangely obsessed with me at the moment, it would be best if I didn't visit him (having not spoken to him or seen him in about six years for personal reasons, I don't really want to see him anyway, crazy or not). I'm instructed to call the hospital again if he phones me and tell them if he's planning another escape.
Thing the Second:
In-between the call on Monday and the visit on Tuesday, Pie and I make a trip to Merrickville to look at antique additions, like bedside tables, to our future apartment, as yet unfound. We return, four hours later, with six pewter napkin rings.
Tuesday morning, Greg and I set off for our first apartment viewing. We know ahead of time that we likely won't be taking it - it's a little more expensive than we'd planned, and it's renting in July, not the August or September we'd hoped for. But it doesn't hurt to go see it.
AND IT'S PERFECT. Sure, it's the first one we've seen, but it's BEAUTIFUL. All you see is light and windows. Hardwood floors, huge kitchen and living spaces, clean tile in the bathroom, FIVE appliances (fridge, stove, DISHWASHER, WASHER, DRYER), enormous shared deck with barbecue and wooden deck furniture, top floor apartment with shared and separate entrances, storage out the wazoo: $1300 + hydro.
Check out some of the pictures I took while I was there HERE.
AND the landlord, who lives on the floor below, who can't be more than five years older than me, who is really nice, said she'd talk to her boyfriend about perhaps holding the place until August for us. So the possibilities keep coming on. Andy wants it (without even seeing it) and I want it - Greg still needs a bit of convincing, because it was the first place we went to see, after all. But then again, I looked at about 60 available apartments online and this was the only one I wanted to take a closer look at. So that should tell you something.
***
AND She just called me now to tell me that we can apply for August!
***
Thing the Third:
Really not as important. But the tools across the road, the ones who bought my neighbour's house and are putting a triplex in the backyard, are total idiots. There's this guy who is cutting into the asphalt with a saw, spewing dust everywhere. No hard hat. No face mask or goggles. Nothing. No construction signs, nothing. So now there's a backhoe taking chunks out of the road and shaking my house like an earthquake. They're dumb.
When I type the word YEEHAW into my phone it comes out as WEDGBY.
So that is the eponym of the playoffs this year.
And look how far it has brought us.
Alfie for Conn Smyth!
Ray Emery is so white in this it kind of hurts to hear it. An old lady was quoted in the paper today as saying she wanted "to grab his little cheeks and kiss him," he was so cute. Hm.
Where HAVE I been these last few weeks?
I tell you, April was a complete blur. I started a new job, had a few minor family crises, a few major affinal crises, defended my thesis, watched a lot of hockey, said goodbye to some people and introduced myself to others, and made some big decisions.
Next thing I know it's May and I have a few seconds of breathing room.
I just finished marking my students' exams - the last ones I will have to mark for some time (I'm hoping that as a PhD candidate I'll get to teach 4th-year students, who can usually write in a coherent and intelligent manner).
So here I sit in relative peace on my day off. An enormous wasp has made its way into my room through the as yet unscreened window, and I'm hoping it will swiftly make its way out again.
It's funny - most of the time I look forward to summer as a well-needed break, a time to work and make money and not worry about school. This year, though, I'm looking forward to September, when the boys and I move out. This in-beween time is a space for me to make enough money to cover most of my debts and purchase certain things I will need for my new abode. School is a far-off thought, something to consider applying to once the weather cools down again. I don't think I've ever wished for fall so fervently as I do now . . .
In any case, I certainly have enough to keep me occupied for the next three and a half months. In addition to finding an apartment and getting the requisites to put into it, I have work - which I'm loving. It's exhausting sometimes, and it has its down points sometimes, but there's so much energy and purpose in that store, and such cheerfulness of everyone in it, that it's so refreshing. Never have I worked with so many people who were so happy to be doing what they are doing. Novel.
I'm also learning to re-finish furniture, as my parents have given me a chest of drawers and my childhood kitchen table, and both need a new coat of love. The nice thing about having grown-up cousins and a large family is that everyone seems to have something to give us: a couch, dishes, cutlery . . . you name it. So I can focus my attention on the little things, like nice appliances for my new kitchen. :P
I'm also, in the next week or so, going to edit and re-submit an article I tried to get published last year. I think that another chapter of my thesis has in it the stuff that was missing from the paper the last time I tried, so with a little cut-and-paste and other erstwhile jiggery-pokery, it should be satisfactory. So here's hoping. I have until the 15th of June to work on it, in any case.
Also, I have had the hiccups for approximately 4.5 hours so far, and I'm mighty tired of them. I had some ice cream for lunch, and that calmed them for a bit, and then I drank a huge mug of tea about an hour ago, and that had the same effect, but it feels like they're coming back. I swear I have some kind of chronic condition . . .
I've had this idea for a commercial bouncing through my head for a few years now, and with the advent of the Sens Army, I'm thinking of sending it through to the big wigs, see what they think.
I'm printing it here as a way of copyrighting myself, so should they *happen* to make the commercial (not likely), and *happen* to not give me any credit for it, then I can nail 'em.
Here goes:
SENS ARMY COMMERCIAL
OPEN: Camera at floor level, focused on goaltender Ray Emery's pads as he makes final adjustments putting them on. Background military snare drum beat, which gets louder as the sequence progresses.
Emery begins to talk about his team, their statistics, their abilities, checks, hits, goals, their toughness. He lists off the numbers in a cocky manner, and gets up from his stall.
CUT TO Emery walking through hallways. Camera in front, moving backwards in front of him.
As he walks through the tunnels on the way to the ice, he speaks of his own accomplishments, his statistics, his habits.
CUT TO bench. Camera on other side of the ice - Wide shot.
He reaches the player bench, still talking, and steps onto the ice. The rink itself is dark, save for a lone spotlight highlighting the net at one end.
He skates to the net and positions himself in front, crouching into the goaltender position. As he does do, he says, "You can't stop me."
CUT TO a puck sliding across the dark ice towards the goaltender. Zoom in on Emery's paddle as it comes into contact with the puck and flicks it away. Zoom out to show all of Emery as he says, "*I* will stop YOU."
He straightens, leans back on the net: "You wanna try?" Pause. "You and what army?"
Zoom out as the lights directly behind the net come on, showing the entire team standing behind the net.
Zoom out further as the lights in the entire stadium come on, illuminating thousands of fans, who begin to chant "GO SENS GO!"
CUT TO BLACK - display Sens Army Logo
End.
What do you think?