Rivers of Rain

Steaming Shoeboxes Keep Dry
There we were under a deluge in Vancouver. So fortunate the shoebox has been well water-proofed; so much so that little holes have to be poked into it, and even littler fans turned on to draw moisture from within and expelled to the wetness outside. Perhaps that's why the city is so grey, drawn and wet at present.

South! I said, I shall go South! And seek the sun, warmth and dryness that comes with sun and warmth. Unfortunately, my plans were foiled by a headline from the SF Chronicle which proclaimed "Veritable River of Rain Headed for City!", and which also warned denizens in the vicinity to batten down the hatches and seal their windows with wax.

Upon reading this headline, it was too late to change my plans so I grit my teeth and prepared to trudge through the wetness that is life at present. 

Before the Rivers of Sorrow and Jealousy
Damp Delusions:
After a few days entertaining Mr. B, I was struck (actually was struck mid-way through the visit) by a cold so much so that meetings were cancelled, and I stayed home for two days and force-fed myself vials of Sudafed-like tablets only these were green and had delayed release nanoparticles to make the effects of the medicine last up to 12 hours. These little green tablets dried up the sinuses and most of everything else in my body so that I felt like I was being mummified from the inside - well, if it's that wet outside, one has to do something to stay dry no? Perhaps if I were to scatter these green pills far and wide, the surroundings would be drier? Or perhaps I'm just being delusional. 

One thing Mr. B and I did do was to watch the first Snuff Opera by Joe Green - Otello. Except that in this production, O strangled D and didn't put a pillow over her face. It was probably something to do with the audience wanting to see D emoting as she was being strangled. In any case, this production of Otello was quite good although O, himself, was quite prone to perspiration - let's be frank, he sweated like a horse who'd ridden fast through the hot and humid tropics - and this fake tan ran. I'm sure D was a bit dismayed at the "una baccio" scene when she had to press her carefully made up face against the rivers of shoe polish coming off O's face. 

Press and You Shall be Admitted
Purolator Puerileness:
My Dyson, my fourth best friend, is here but with no help from Purolator. I ordered, and Dyson sent my blue DC-35 using Purolator. Once it was shipped, I was given a tracking number and almost went demented updating the tracking information on an hourly basis. So you can imagine how exciting it was for me to see that the shipment had finally reached my wet but fair city, and that mon ami was on the truck for delivery to final destination. Except that when the delivery man reached the final destination, he couldn't contact me - not because he didn't have the address, he did. Not because he didn't have the apartment number, because he did. No, he couldn't deliver it because he couldn't use the directory to buzz me and let me know he was at the door, so he left without leaving a note, without looking at the directory to buzz me, without even trying. Idiots. That's all I can say. Lousy, poor, useless delivery service I add. Don't use Purolator for your shipments. They will not deliver it on time and have useless excuses such as "We don't have a buzzer number" - Well fecking look it up. You're already there - go the extra length. 

Grasp Away
Bottom line, I wasted an entire day at home nursing a cold and waiting for the idiot purolator people to come. 

Walaubagaimanapun, it is here and already GA has made little greedy grasping gestures at it, and cast envious eyes upon it. I've already put it through its paces and it passed with flying colours. Lovely little thing it is too. Now if only DP would come put it through the paces with me, but that would be asking for too much. Ah well, what can one do - life just isn't fair is it. The fairness of one or the other is all relative and the sooner I realise this, the better and easier it will all be.




Memo to self: Speak amongst yourselves. This paragraph is for my own edification. 

A list! A list! It Lists!
  1. Guilt exists not for indulgence, nor does grief
  2. Grief is real in its own time
  3. Pressure is self-generated, and so can be self-released
  4. TE is as always charming and hospitable
  5. Work has to be kept at bay
  6. Pain is debilitating
  7. There are irons in the fire
  8. Spreadsheets do not rule the world but they are a useful guide
  9. Loyalty only goes so far - and not that far when you reach a conundrum
  10. Islands are exactly that islands - just depends on the number of sharks
  11. Dependence - is finely graded and a fine line to be trod
  12. Steps - not the gold edition - are there to be taken, you just have to find them first
  13. The future is mutable
  14. You can't prepare, but you can try to clear the way
  15. Laughter to ashes at Muara Tebas - that about sums it up