The 28th Last night at Stage Nine in Halifax there were a bunch of bands, including the Urban Surf Kings, paying tribute to instrumental/surf legends like Dick Dale, Link Wray and The Ventures. I really want to see USK play and the fact that Brad Conrad and other guys like that are playing too is a bonus. It would undoubtedly prove to be a twangy extravaganza of surfy goodness. I was planning on going to see the show but for various reasons I did not. The bus left here at 3pm but wouldn't arrive in Halifax until after bloody midnight. How the hell they manage to turn a three to four hour trip into a nine hour trip I'll never understand. There's always the shuttle but I missed it and I didn't want to be crammed between smelly people or deal with the annoying passenger factor. I was hoping to ask Ian and Holly if I could crash at their place but they ironically came to PEI this weekend instead. I was also hoping Nathan and perhaps others might want to go but this was the weekend the guys from State of the Art recorded some demos here. So, ya, I didn't go. I could have driven over but it gets pricey going alone and I don't really think I'm comfortable enough driving in a Halifax yet since I get stressed out just driving in Charlottetown. That's sad. The 23rd I don't like starting off my day by being thrown for a loop. I woke up at 12:30pm and didn't hear either of my alarms set for 11am. I just slept through them or don't remember shutting them off. That really isn't all that unusual for me, though. What bothered me was the t-shirt I was wearing. I know for a fact that when I went to bed I was shirtless (now, now…calm down ladies), and I had a shirt on when I woke up. I don't remember getting up at any point and putting on a shirt. Normally, half-asleep adventures will come back to me at some point but I'm completely blank and it sort of freaks me out that I'd get up and go through the trouble of clothing myself and not remember it. A bunch of us went to see The Da Vinci Code tonight and had to walk past a small group of silent protesters flanking the entrances. They have to realize that their negative publicity is only helping the movie's ticket sales but, then again, a lot of things Christians say and do don't make a whole lot of sense to me. They were really half-assed about it too. They didn't even say anything when we walked in and I didn't even bother to read what their signs said. There are far more important things to do with one's time if you ask me but we do live in Summerside after all. The movie was actually really good, though, I wish I had read the book first. But it takes me 4 years to read a magazine so a novel sort of puts me out of commission for a while. You could tell things were rushed but I didn't find it too bothersome, and some things like the claustrophobia angle really seemed forced. I love really in depth storylines like that and the whole subject of secret societies and historical cover-ups. I really want to read the book now to get all of the in depth detail about symbology and numerology and how it ties in with everything. I can understand how the story has Christians upset but since I'm not Christian I think it makes for a pretty damn good story…especially if it were true. The 22nd I think the best cat litter in the world is probably pine pellets. I used to use the silica litter and thought that was A-1 except for the choking dust and the foulness when it came time to clean the box. The silica did a pretty good job until it reached it's "soaking" point I guess. After that it became a foul mess that involved lots of soaking and rinsing of the cat box before a new batch could be poured in. It was messy, smelly, and disgusting but it was still better than regular cat litter. These pine pellets kick the pants off of silica though. They absorb odour and liquid, inhibit bacterial growth, are all-natural, biodegradable, flushable, and basically just turn to sawdust. I simply dump the box into the compost and don't even need to clean out the box because there's nothing left in it. Makes things pretty quick and easy which is most welcome in the winter. I don't know why vets aren't pushing this stuff. You know your life is boring when you write about the virtues of the stuff your cat takes a dump in. The 21st The "Robots" show opened at the Peake Street Studio tonight so I figured I might as well check it out and hang out with Tyler, Melissa and the Charlottetown folks while I was up there. The show seemed to be pretty well received, lots of people showed up. There were some interesting pieces too. I don't know anything about art or sculpture but I liked mostly everything on display. I wanted to put a piece into the show because I do like the robots quite a bit. I just couldn't figure out something interesting enough or that didn't seemed forced or just plain lame. The 14th The gummy fish that Tammy gave me are still in a bucket in the kitchen. I gave them a run for their money last night too but they just don't end. I don't know how many of them I ate but when I was done my tongue was a rotten piece of mouth steak. When I brushed my teeth before bed the toothbrush hurt my teeth so much that it sent shooting pains into my head. They still hurt to brush. I don't even want to know what all of that sugar, syrup and citric acid did to the enamel on my teeth. I hate inkjet printers. I hate them with a passion. I am passionate about hating inkjet printers. I have a new Epson Stylus C86 and I'm constantly cleaning or realigning the heads because the quality of the prints is consistently fucked. It will be fine for a short run then I come back the next day and suddenly my magenta won't print or there's severe banding across everything. It makes no sense. I'm actually going to place the blame on the Staples brand ink cartridges because this isn't the first time they've pissed me off. Next time, it's Epson all the way. I'm not going to let one of the salespeople tell me that the carts work the same as the Epson brand because they don't. You're all full of shit and you get what you pay for. This afternoon, Sharon invited us out to the fabled West End beach (Green Shore or something) to play bocci ball or bocci or something to that effect. It was pretty fun and it was good to get outside for a change. With no shade to shield myself from the midday sun, though, I didn't feel like sticking around very long. But there were lots of doggies everywhere so that made for some added entertainment. It was Mothers Day too but I didn't even get to see my mom because she works every Mothers Day and didn't get home until 9pm—three hours after she was expecting to be home. I don't know how she's able to work that much all of the time. I feel bad complaining about working maybe twenty hours a week to someone who is on their feet all day, working probably fifty to sixty hours a week. The 9th I have work coming out of my ears. As soon as I finish one big project there's something else waiting or another one drops into my lap. I guess it's good to be busy and to have the benefit of word-of-mouth advertising but I'm not exactly the type with a go-get-em, entrepreneurial spirit so the drive to get up early and get on top of the projects is lacking. I'm just glad that the majority of the time I do commit to working is actually spent working as opposed to hunting down jobs and dealing with all of that nonsense. Technically, that would be work but that sort of thing just keeps me from getting projects done and bogs me down with the tedium of business details and the associated boredom/creativity siphon. I'm not very high on the creative ladder to begin with so keeping as much energy as I can devoted to creating and producing for clients is something I need to do. Besides, writing proposals and sending out invoices just sucks. I went for a walk tonight because it was so quiet and still out, and even twenty minutes just wandering the late night streets of Summerside is better than no exercise at all. I noticed that for some reason the air everywhere sort of reminded me of the smell of the Maros household. It's hard to explain but it just reminded me of cooking, oils, spices and cutting boards. It's still not really a cooking smell per se (pershay…nevermind), more like a reminder of the Maros kitchen or something. It was odd but welcome, and definitely better than the funk of Shur-Gain or the fishiness wafting from the waterfront or the fish plant. It's very weird how one smell can completely bring you back to a time and place. The olfactory sense is definitely the strongest one linked to memory. Sometimes the smell of a toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich will harken back to when I'd sleep over at my friend Cameron's house when I was a kid. His house didn't smell like PB&J, it's just that it was the classic breakfast along with a tall glass of cold milk and Quik powder. There I go writing about food again. The 8th Ugh…still the food and sweets they abound. Tammy gave me a big box of sour fruity fish gummies at breakfast yesterday so they were busted out and consumed in mass quantities during Sunday night TV watchings. And then after breakfast today, and throughout the afternoon, and then before I went to my parents' place for a big steak dinner, and then more after I got back. It doesn't end. I'd like to know what percentage of my writings involve me talking about food and/or eating too much thereof. I don't think I have a problem with food other than I enjoy eating lots of it but I'm not always snacking or downing junk food. I think I eat fairly well considering I'm a bachelor (boy I find that word funny) in a small town full of fast food joints. I think I mostly have an issue passing up second helpings and taking advantage of cookies when they present themselves. The 6th Ah, twenty-eight. Even though the idea of getting closer to thirty kind of bothers me at least the actual birth date itself is usually pretty good. This year was no exception and started off right with a birthday breakfast from Sharon. Nathan and I went to trivia later and Jill and James showed up so they joined our "team". With their help we were able to garner third place. Then along came a pot luck. Sharon, Laine, Mark, Kyle, Melissa and Tyler all stopped by and there was much deliciousnous with the food stuffs and desserts. Oh, and some presents as well. Thanks for the gifts, you fine folks…and the leftovers. I ate way too much. Did I even need to say that? I'm still eating too much because there's so much food leftover in the fridge. Pot lucks were created by the Devil along with the help of little old ladies who make casseroles and serve trays of cold cuts and cheeses. The 1st I got some more photos developed today so I figured I'd share some of them that turned out. A spaceman on a distant world. A robot and his parasol. Hobbbes in the sun. Kaly sees something. Winnie. Dogs playing. Dad with the dogs. Kaly. Chickadee on a stick. Bunny on the move. Hare stare. Chipmunk. Chipmunk. Sproing Monkey. Gas pump. A girl dog named Randy. Hobbes and his mouse. Morgan and Kaly. THE Neil Forbes. Shawn "Woo" McNally. The dog above named Randy was outside of Green Gables with her owner and I guess the other owner was in the store. The whole time the poor pup sat plunked down with her nose almost against the glass door waiting and looking for her owner. It was really cute but sort of sad at the same time. Apparently her former owners didn't treat her very well so she was nervous and just seemed really sad. My sister got back from Cuba yesterday (hence the sunburn) so I stopped in to see her and find out how her trip was. She wasn't impressed with the food or the bugs but the weather apparently made up for it. She brought me back a coconut monkey (the third for my collection) and a Cuban cigar which I may or may not smoke.