Stayed up late to finish these five pages so they can go out in the Fed Ex run today.
Augie just climbed into the dollhouse for a nap. One of these days I'll get a picture so that I may share the cuteness.
One note about this whole Mel Gibson crap. Yes his comments were damn douchey but come on people, the guy got into a car drunk. He endangered people's lives. He could have mowed down someone's kid, someone's parents or grandparents and everyone's more concerned about what he said? Fuck him. I've hated his work since his 'flied lice' line in that despicable crap-fest Lethal Weapon 4. His total disregard for human life cements his title as dirtbag in my book.
Yes I need some sleep.
Wednesday, August 2, 2006
Tuesday, August 1, 2006
5 pages just about done.
A final word on Planetes. I've read all the books and as of yesterday we've seen all the anime series on DVD and couldn't recommend them all more.
First off the manga. The premise is simple, a crew of debris collectors work in orbit to keep space safe from errant junk. The time is about a hundred years from the first Apollo missions and space is now a very crowded and busy place where collisions between said debris and working ships can mean disaster. Which says nothing about how damn beautiful, intelligent and cool these stories are. Balanced between heartbreaking stories examining the meaning of existence against the infinite blackness of space and the need for love and connection are moments of hilarity like walking for miles through a lunar wasteland just to get a smoke.
No warp drives, wormholes or aliens here, just hardcore science and that's my favourite part. The real limitations of space are there not to be sidestepped with a bit of puffy pseudophysics but confronted, sometimes overcome, sometimes not and in both revealing humanity's true fragilities and strengths.
When I saw the first of the series of anime I wasn't sure I was prepared to like it. There were changes made that made it seem like a watered down version of the books. A cutesy office enviroment that included a few wacky characters, a passive but pleasant manager, an assistant manager into magic tricks and office politics, and a temp who never cracks a smile. Add to this some wannabe ninjas on the moon and I began to wonder what the heck they were getting at taking such heavy material and making it so seemingly light.
And then some of the more poignant chapters were adapted, and the kookier characters were fleshed out becoming more real in their motivations. Finally, all of these initial oddities connected, culminating in some amazing stuff and driving home the central themes of the books. Ian and I found ourselves sniffling at the end of many episodes.
And of course the art is fantastic in both.
Definitely worth a look.
A final word on Planetes. I've read all the books and as of yesterday we've seen all the anime series on DVD and couldn't recommend them all more.
First off the manga. The premise is simple, a crew of debris collectors work in orbit to keep space safe from errant junk. The time is about a hundred years from the first Apollo missions and space is now a very crowded and busy place where collisions between said debris and working ships can mean disaster. Which says nothing about how damn beautiful, intelligent and cool these stories are. Balanced between heartbreaking stories examining the meaning of existence against the infinite blackness of space and the need for love and connection are moments of hilarity like walking for miles through a lunar wasteland just to get a smoke.
No warp drives, wormholes or aliens here, just hardcore science and that's my favourite part. The real limitations of space are there not to be sidestepped with a bit of puffy pseudophysics but confronted, sometimes overcome, sometimes not and in both revealing humanity's true fragilities and strengths.
When I saw the first of the series of anime I wasn't sure I was prepared to like it. There were changes made that made it seem like a watered down version of the books. A cutesy office enviroment that included a few wacky characters, a passive but pleasant manager, an assistant manager into magic tricks and office politics, and a temp who never cracks a smile. Add to this some wannabe ninjas on the moon and I began to wonder what the heck they were getting at taking such heavy material and making it so seemingly light.
And then some of the more poignant chapters were adapted, and the kookier characters were fleshed out becoming more real in their motivations. Finally, all of these initial oddities connected, culminating in some amazing stuff and driving home the central themes of the books. Ian and I found ourselves sniffling at the end of many episodes.
And of course the art is fantastic in both.
Definitely worth a look.
Monday, July 31, 2006
On the way home this morning we had some lovely lightning and thunder. Only a few flashes but still pretty cool. The rain started up just moments after stepping in the door and continued for several hours.
The Comix and Stories con was mentioned on Brian's board this week and for some reason I got the idea that it was on today. We met up with Vic and Susan and stopped by the hall to see that there was a wedding reception being set up instead. Blah. At least the weather was cooler. We all had a nice lunch and chat at Bert's.
Spent the rest of the day at the office tackling pages. Got those first two fleshed out and then started up another two.
The head cold isn't so bad today. Sneezing and sniffles.
Back home now and Ian is cooking up something that smells incredible. Gonna watch another Planetes episode soon.
Yeah, not too insightful today. Maybe tomorrow.
The Comix and Stories con was mentioned on Brian's board this week and for some reason I got the idea that it was on today. We met up with Vic and Susan and stopped by the hall to see that there was a wedding reception being set up instead. Blah. At least the weather was cooler. We all had a nice lunch and chat at Bert's.
Spent the rest of the day at the office tackling pages. Got those first two fleshed out and then started up another two.
The head cold isn't so bad today. Sneezing and sniffles.
Back home now and Ian is cooking up something that smells incredible. Gonna watch another Planetes episode soon.
Yeah, not too insightful today. Maybe tomorrow.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Out of the gate... with a head cold. Figures, you spend a weekend with a hundred thousand people that one of them will pass on a bug. Nothing serious, just a lot of sneezing. Blah.
So to get the day started I called up Ian who was already at the office and asked him if he'd like to grab some lunch (more like dinner since it was about five o'clock, slept in a bit due the head cold). Ian wanted to go to Black Tuna down by the beach and we both blanked that it was Saturday and the downtown core was going to be swamped with about a million people checking out the fireworks competition.
We get there at about six and have a lovely dinner while we watch the masses go by. After stuffing ourselves on beautiful fish we decide to give the fireworks a try. By now it's seven thirty and the only place left is a patch of green across the street. We sit for an hour or so, looking up at the looming clouds. I've worked on some small pyro teams in the past and whenever the skies were overcast like this, seemingly non threatening but still thick, something about the booming mortars would cause them to spill rain shortly after any show. It was chillier than usual this evening, I didn't have a jacket and I didn't really want to get rained on either. Splitting seemed like a good idea.
We walked towards Granville to see if we could make it to the comic shop before they closed. We've been totally hooked on the Planetes DVDs and there was one more left we hadn't seen. Halfway through the west end we're at a street corner and I look up to see a very familiar head of flowing hair. The actor John Glover was crossing the road and me, being ever the loquacious geek just had to stop and tell him how much I liked his work. He thanked me politely, wished us good fireworks and continued on, his gorgeous, healthy mane bobbing in the wind.
We just made it to the shop. Actually they had just closed but we gave them the puppy dog eyes and promises of a good, fast sale and they let us in. Planetes 6 was ours! Yay!
We then walked over to Chapters but no finds there. I really wish they'd adjust their prices to the current exchange rate because twenty three bucks for a Computer Arts magazine just seems a bit much these days.
We grabbed a cab before the fireworks were set to start and hightailed it to the office where, after some distractions with comics and the gameboy I got two pages nicely started. The rain was nice too when it finally fell.
At around 3 am we heard a loud crash outside. The whole evening had been pretty loud, lots of cars leaving the core, sirens racing back and forth, and rowdies partying into the night. This particular crash was the sound of a lot of glass followed by angry yelling.
We look out and see two guys walking up the street, the loud one was brushing himself off. We couldn't see any glass so we just watched him go up the street with his buddy. When they were just out of sight we looked back and saw a small crowd gathered around the barber shop there. We went downstairs to have a look and sure enough, Mr. Angry McSmash-a-lot had punched a very large hole into the plate glass window. Most of the glass was inside which was why we couldn't see any from across the street. We looked back to where they had gone and now there was a cop car sitting there. We hurried over to make a report but they were too involved with a couple of street racers to care and asked us to go across the street to call 911.
We filed the report but by then the two drunken douchebags were long gone. We grabbed some hot chocolate and went back to the office.
Quite a day all right.
So to get the day started I called up Ian who was already at the office and asked him if he'd like to grab some lunch (more like dinner since it was about five o'clock, slept in a bit due the head cold). Ian wanted to go to Black Tuna down by the beach and we both blanked that it was Saturday and the downtown core was going to be swamped with about a million people checking out the fireworks competition.
We get there at about six and have a lovely dinner while we watch the masses go by. After stuffing ourselves on beautiful fish we decide to give the fireworks a try. By now it's seven thirty and the only place left is a patch of green across the street. We sit for an hour or so, looking up at the looming clouds. I've worked on some small pyro teams in the past and whenever the skies were overcast like this, seemingly non threatening but still thick, something about the booming mortars would cause them to spill rain shortly after any show. It was chillier than usual this evening, I didn't have a jacket and I didn't really want to get rained on either. Splitting seemed like a good idea.
We walked towards Granville to see if we could make it to the comic shop before they closed. We've been totally hooked on the Planetes DVDs and there was one more left we hadn't seen. Halfway through the west end we're at a street corner and I look up to see a very familiar head of flowing hair. The actor John Glover was crossing the road and me, being ever the loquacious geek just had to stop and tell him how much I liked his work. He thanked me politely, wished us good fireworks and continued on, his gorgeous, healthy mane bobbing in the wind.
We just made it to the shop. Actually they had just closed but we gave them the puppy dog eyes and promises of a good, fast sale and they let us in. Planetes 6 was ours! Yay!
We then walked over to Chapters but no finds there. I really wish they'd adjust their prices to the current exchange rate because twenty three bucks for a Computer Arts magazine just seems a bit much these days.
We grabbed a cab before the fireworks were set to start and hightailed it to the office where, after some distractions with comics and the gameboy I got two pages nicely started. The rain was nice too when it finally fell.
At around 3 am we heard a loud crash outside. The whole evening had been pretty loud, lots of cars leaving the core, sirens racing back and forth, and rowdies partying into the night. This particular crash was the sound of a lot of glass followed by angry yelling.
We look out and see two guys walking up the street, the loud one was brushing himself off. We couldn't see any glass so we just watched him go up the street with his buddy. When they were just out of sight we looked back and saw a small crowd gathered around the barber shop there. We went downstairs to have a look and sure enough, Mr. Angry McSmash-a-lot had punched a very large hole into the plate glass window. Most of the glass was inside which was why we couldn't see any from across the street. We looked back to where they had gone and now there was a cop car sitting there. We hurried over to make a report but they were too involved with a couple of street racers to care and asked us to go across the street to call 911.
We filed the report but by then the two drunken douchebags were long gone. We grabbed some hot chocolate and went back to the office.
Quite a day all right.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
I've avoided thinking about issue 60 over the last few years mostly to keep myself from thinking about how much more work there's left to do. Stay in the present, plow through and some day that cozy promise of fulfillment will just show up on my doorstep.
At the con this weekend I had several dozen people ask me the same question: "So what's next?" and with a shrug I would answer "Dunno, we'll see when I get there."
Just as I haven't let myself dwell on issue 60 I've sidestepped the whole what-happens-after part. I supposed I would take a break, have a look at all my back-burnered projects, consider any proposals that might come in (hopefully from creators I've always wanted to work with) or possibly try something completely different.
After a fun and inspirational weekend at the con I started to think about putting together a booth for next year and what that would entail. Maybe a table or two to sell some art and the ever popular sketchbook, or a self publishing venture, make up some funky t-shirts to sell. Maybe all of that. I started getting excited, ideas began spilling out of my noodle and I was scribbling furiously in my notebook.
And that's when I began to look at the future. Specifically, my schedule.
For some reason my brain locked onto the idea that the end would be around December of 2006. At the very latest February of 2007 which would have left me time to put some projects together in time for next year's San Diego con. I started counting out how long I'd have left after finishing issue 49 this week and was horrified to learn that I wouldn't be done until summer. A whole year. Egads.
I became quite depressed. Now, don't get me wrong, I love working on Y, the story is brilliant and I feel so lucky to have done as much as I have. It's also a lot of work and the idea of trying something new just jazzed me up so much. And that's when I came up with this idea for the blog and my spirits lifted.
Y the Last Year. T minus ten issues. So leading up to issue 60 I'll be blogging as much as I can about it. The fun parts, the hard parts, the couple of issues I'll probably be off in the middle, anything I can write about the experience including the huge bash we're planning for the finish.
Today I opened my e-mail to find the script for issue 50.
Here we go.
At the con this weekend I had several dozen people ask me the same question: "So what's next?" and with a shrug I would answer "Dunno, we'll see when I get there."
Just as I haven't let myself dwell on issue 60 I've sidestepped the whole what-happens-after part. I supposed I would take a break, have a look at all my back-burnered projects, consider any proposals that might come in (hopefully from creators I've always wanted to work with) or possibly try something completely different.
After a fun and inspirational weekend at the con I started to think about putting together a booth for next year and what that would entail. Maybe a table or two to sell some art and the ever popular sketchbook, or a self publishing venture, make up some funky t-shirts to sell. Maybe all of that. I started getting excited, ideas began spilling out of my noodle and I was scribbling furiously in my notebook.
And that's when I began to look at the future. Specifically, my schedule.
For some reason my brain locked onto the idea that the end would be around December of 2006. At the very latest February of 2007 which would have left me time to put some projects together in time for next year's San Diego con. I started counting out how long I'd have left after finishing issue 49 this week and was horrified to learn that I wouldn't be done until summer. A whole year. Egads.
I became quite depressed. Now, don't get me wrong, I love working on Y, the story is brilliant and I feel so lucky to have done as much as I have. It's also a lot of work and the idea of trying something new just jazzed me up so much. And that's when I came up with this idea for the blog and my spirits lifted.
Y the Last Year. T minus ten issues. So leading up to issue 60 I'll be blogging as much as I can about it. The fun parts, the hard parts, the couple of issues I'll probably be off in the middle, anything I can write about the experience including the huge bash we're planning for the finish.
Today I opened my e-mail to find the script for issue 50.
Here we go.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
San Diego reportage:
Thursday Freak Out: How an Omni Hotel Reservation Lady Screwed Us Out of Our Room.
We should have known something terrible was about to happen when everything went so smoothly in getting to San Diego on Thursday. We got to the airport early, managed to upgrade our flight, sailed through customs, landed in town about 20 minutes early, and to top it all off, just as we were pulling up to the entrance the radio started playing "our song" from the reception, As Time Goes By.
We walked into the Omni, cheerfully greeted reception and asked for our room. After a few moments digging through the records the man (I'll call him Good Cop) announced that our room had been given away. According to their records we were supposed to arrive on Wednesday and because we didn't we were considered no shows and our room was given away. We both gasp in shock.
I related the conversation I had with a their hotel staff on Monday, which went exactly like this:
Omni: Omni Hotel, where can I direct your call?
me: Reservations please.
clicking.
Reservation lady: Omni Reservations, how can I help you?
me: I need to change my check in date for this week.
I provide the name and day we're set to get in to town, Wednesday.
me: It looks like we're now coming in on Thursday now so we need to change that to Thursday from Wednesday. Is there still time to change that?
Reservation lady: No problem, I'll do that for you.
She quotes a date on her screen.
me: Is that Thursday?
Reservation lady: Yes, that's Thursday.
me: That's the day we're coming in so great. Oh and I wanted to ask if we could get a room facing the convention center because we stayed there a couple of years ago and we had a room on the side of that bar and we couldn't leave the window open for the noise.
Reservation lady: Let me check, we're pretty full up for the weekend.
me: Yeah, I know. It's the con, everything gets booked up during that time. The noise is one thing but I also have some mild asthma and I need to have a window open, and we can't leave it open when there's so much noise from that bar.
Reservation lady: Oh, well that will probably help you in getting that because we give priority for medical reasons.
me: Oh thanks. I stayed at a hotel a few years ago that couldn't open the windows and I had an attack in my sleep, it was really scary.
Reservation lady: We have ionizers if you need them.
me: Oh no thanks, the window really does the trick more than anything. If you can't get anything on the pool side of the building then up high is good too, as long as it's far from the bar.
Reservation lady: Okay, I think we can do that. I have all the information on your file now.
me: Thank you so much. I really appreciate that.
Reservation lady: You're welcome, we'll see you on Thursday.
me: Thanks again. Bye
Good Cop looks at the screen and says that he sees the medical information there and I tell him that was the information I added on Monday so why wasn't the date changed? He calls in another manager (this one shall be called Bad Cop).
Bad Cop gets updated on the information and says there are no rooms available and that the rooms have been booked for months. We tell him that we booked this months ago so why would we screw ourselves on the one weekend of the year when the entire city sells out of rooms? We made the changes with their reservation department and it's their fault, not ours. On top of that we find out I was charged a night's stay because we were no shows.
At this point I start yelling that I was not responsible for this screw up and I shouldn't be charged for their mistake. They agree to reimburse the charge but that's it. Bad Cop takes the stance that since there was no record of making a change to the date that we must be trying to scam them into getting a room. They call around the city and the only room available is one night at the Marriot on Coronado Island and no matter how inconvenient and awful that is for us that's all they can do and Bad Cop escorts us to a cab. No offer of compensation for the ride over either.
We were shaking with rage on the ride over. How the hell can we get through this weekend like this? We drop off our stuff and quickly hurry back to the convention center (another twenty dollar cab ride) and were just able to get our badges before the 7pm closing. There was five minutes left before the show ended so we decided to check in with the DC Comics booth to get a signing schedule set up. We found Fletcher, one of the booth managers who shall be forever known as Saint Fletcher. We mentioned our predicament and asked if he knew of anyone who might know of a room available in the city. He thinks for a second, winks in that knowing way and says, "Give me a moment, I'll call a guy."
Ian and I stand there stunned that there may actually be a solution and sure enough, in a couple of minutes Saint Fletcher returns with a man who says he can set is up in the Gas Lamp.
Holy crap! Holy crap! We were so happy! We were saved! Saint Fletcher rocks!
We stayed that night at the Coronado, a Shining-esque creepy night at that but the next morning we were at the Marriot Gaslamp. Yay! Double Yay!
I will never stay at the Omni ever again. I may stop by the bar for their very nice Arnold Palmers but as for the hotel... forget it. Never trust a place that can't read a bloody calendar.
Friday was a hoot. We didn't win at the Eisners (as expected) but we got to hang out with Shane and goof around drawing cartoons on our programs all night.
The signings at the booth went very nicely and I thank everyone who stopped by to say hello and get sketches.
I'll post more soon, time to go and be a social butterfly.
Thursday Freak Out: How an Omni Hotel Reservation Lady Screwed Us Out of Our Room.
We should have known something terrible was about to happen when everything went so smoothly in getting to San Diego on Thursday. We got to the airport early, managed to upgrade our flight, sailed through customs, landed in town about 20 minutes early, and to top it all off, just as we were pulling up to the entrance the radio started playing "our song" from the reception, As Time Goes By.
We walked into the Omni, cheerfully greeted reception and asked for our room. After a few moments digging through the records the man (I'll call him Good Cop) announced that our room had been given away. According to their records we were supposed to arrive on Wednesday and because we didn't we were considered no shows and our room was given away. We both gasp in shock.
I related the conversation I had with a their hotel staff on Monday, which went exactly like this:
Omni: Omni Hotel, where can I direct your call?
me: Reservations please.
clicking.
Reservation lady: Omni Reservations, how can I help you?
me: I need to change my check in date for this week.
I provide the name and day we're set to get in to town, Wednesday.
me: It looks like we're now coming in on Thursday now so we need to change that to Thursday from Wednesday. Is there still time to change that?
Reservation lady: No problem, I'll do that for you.
She quotes a date on her screen.
me: Is that Thursday?
Reservation lady: Yes, that's Thursday.
me: That's the day we're coming in so great. Oh and I wanted to ask if we could get a room facing the convention center because we stayed there a couple of years ago and we had a room on the side of that bar and we couldn't leave the window open for the noise.
Reservation lady: Let me check, we're pretty full up for the weekend.
me: Yeah, I know. It's the con, everything gets booked up during that time. The noise is one thing but I also have some mild asthma and I need to have a window open, and we can't leave it open when there's so much noise from that bar.
Reservation lady: Oh, well that will probably help you in getting that because we give priority for medical reasons.
me: Oh thanks. I stayed at a hotel a few years ago that couldn't open the windows and I had an attack in my sleep, it was really scary.
Reservation lady: We have ionizers if you need them.
me: Oh no thanks, the window really does the trick more than anything. If you can't get anything on the pool side of the building then up high is good too, as long as it's far from the bar.
Reservation lady: Okay, I think we can do that. I have all the information on your file now.
me: Thank you so much. I really appreciate that.
Reservation lady: You're welcome, we'll see you on Thursday.
me: Thanks again. Bye
Good Cop looks at the screen and says that he sees the medical information there and I tell him that was the information I added on Monday so why wasn't the date changed? He calls in another manager (this one shall be called Bad Cop).
Bad Cop gets updated on the information and says there are no rooms available and that the rooms have been booked for months. We tell him that we booked this months ago so why would we screw ourselves on the one weekend of the year when the entire city sells out of rooms? We made the changes with their reservation department and it's their fault, not ours. On top of that we find out I was charged a night's stay because we were no shows.
At this point I start yelling that I was not responsible for this screw up and I shouldn't be charged for their mistake. They agree to reimburse the charge but that's it. Bad Cop takes the stance that since there was no record of making a change to the date that we must be trying to scam them into getting a room. They call around the city and the only room available is one night at the Marriot on Coronado Island and no matter how inconvenient and awful that is for us that's all they can do and Bad Cop escorts us to a cab. No offer of compensation for the ride over either.
We were shaking with rage on the ride over. How the hell can we get through this weekend like this? We drop off our stuff and quickly hurry back to the convention center (another twenty dollar cab ride) and were just able to get our badges before the 7pm closing. There was five minutes left before the show ended so we decided to check in with the DC Comics booth to get a signing schedule set up. We found Fletcher, one of the booth managers who shall be forever known as Saint Fletcher. We mentioned our predicament and asked if he knew of anyone who might know of a room available in the city. He thinks for a second, winks in that knowing way and says, "Give me a moment, I'll call a guy."
Ian and I stand there stunned that there may actually be a solution and sure enough, in a couple of minutes Saint Fletcher returns with a man who says he can set is up in the Gas Lamp.
Holy crap! Holy crap! We were so happy! We were saved! Saint Fletcher rocks!
We stayed that night at the Coronado, a Shining-esque creepy night at that but the next morning we were at the Marriot Gaslamp. Yay! Double Yay!
I will never stay at the Omni ever again. I may stop by the bar for their very nice Arnold Palmers but as for the hotel... forget it. Never trust a place that can't read a bloody calendar.
Friday was a hoot. We didn't win at the Eisners (as expected) but we got to hang out with Shane and goof around drawing cartoons on our programs all night.
The signings at the booth went very nicely and I thank everyone who stopped by to say hello and get sketches.
I'll post more soon, time to go and be a social butterfly.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
San Diego is a go go!
Ian and I will be arrving on Thursday afternoon so we probably won't see too much of the con that day but we'll be around. No signing schedule yet but chances are it will be the same time as Brian's. Check in with the Vertigo booth for more information.
Some quick notes on sketches:
I do free sketches at the booth. I ask they not be resold because that's just tacky. Anyone who wants a sketch from me can get one by mail for free as well. I'm not here to make you rich, only to make you happy.
Bring a backing board or your sketchbook because I'm not hauling paper to the con.
If you have a request for a character not in Y bring reference, my memory is only so good and I don't want to mess up your board/book.
I will not do nudes of your favourite character. Sorry, that's just my policy.
I will do my best to get to everyone but if time runs out please check with the booth attendants for future times. If there are no other times on the schedule check with the FAQ here regarding mailing in for a sketch. And feel free to say hi regardless of whether you can get a sketch or not, it's always nice to hear from you.
See you this weekend!
Ian and I will be arrving on Thursday afternoon so we probably won't see too much of the con that day but we'll be around. No signing schedule yet but chances are it will be the same time as Brian's. Check in with the Vertigo booth for more information.
Some quick notes on sketches:
I do free sketches at the booth. I ask they not be resold because that's just tacky. Anyone who wants a sketch from me can get one by mail for free as well. I'm not here to make you rich, only to make you happy.
Bring a backing board or your sketchbook because I'm not hauling paper to the con.
If you have a request for a character not in Y bring reference, my memory is only so good and I don't want to mess up your board/book.
I will not do nudes of your favourite character. Sorry, that's just my policy.
I will do my best to get to everyone but if time runs out please check with the booth attendants for future times. If there are no other times on the schedule check with the FAQ here regarding mailing in for a sketch. And feel free to say hi regardless of whether you can get a sketch or not, it's always nice to hear from you.
See you this weekend!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Breyer's ice cream now officially sucks.
Ian picked up a carton of Breyers today, that ice cream that features ads with cute children reading off the oh so simple ingredients to prove how natural it really is. I used to really like it, that is until this evening when we had some for dessert.
After a few bites we began to wonder why the hell it tasted so gummy and awful. We checked the label and sure enough there were these not so simple names on the list: milk ingredients, sugar, modified milk ingredients, polysorbate 80, guar gum, glucose, mono and diglycerides, cellulose gum, natural vanilla flavour, carageenan and oh yeah, pure ground vanilla beans (makes you wonder why they had to add the natural vanilla flavour if there's ground vanilla beans in there hmm?).
We checked to see if this was some diet version or for people with gluten alergies but the label only said Breyer's Natural Vanilla (with real vanilla specks!), not that I saw a lot of specks in there either.
Sure there are many more important things out there to feel betrayed about (Wal-Mart, Bush, leafblowers, Vancouver's real estate market) but this is especially disappointing. I can understand when you buy the cheapo stuff you get crap but spending all that money for crap when they've always claimed to not be crap? I feel ripped off.
And now my stomach is all rumbly and that taste keeps hanging around. Ick. Breyer's blows.
Ian picked up a carton of Breyers today, that ice cream that features ads with cute children reading off the oh so simple ingredients to prove how natural it really is. I used to really like it, that is until this evening when we had some for dessert.
After a few bites we began to wonder why the hell it tasted so gummy and awful. We checked the label and sure enough there were these not so simple names on the list: milk ingredients, sugar, modified milk ingredients, polysorbate 80, guar gum, glucose, mono and diglycerides, cellulose gum, natural vanilla flavour, carageenan and oh yeah, pure ground vanilla beans (makes you wonder why they had to add the natural vanilla flavour if there's ground vanilla beans in there hmm?).
We checked to see if this was some diet version or for people with gluten alergies but the label only said Breyer's Natural Vanilla (with real vanilla specks!), not that I saw a lot of specks in there either.
Sure there are many more important things out there to feel betrayed about (Wal-Mart, Bush, leafblowers, Vancouver's real estate market) but this is especially disappointing. I can understand when you buy the cheapo stuff you get crap but spending all that money for crap when they've always claimed to not be crap? I feel ripped off.
And now my stomach is all rumbly and that taste keeps hanging around. Ick. Breyer's blows.
Monday, July 10, 2006
San Diego. I've gotten a few e-mails lately asking if I'm going. The answer is maybe. The thing about weddings is they tend to do a royal number on your bank account balance. I'm presently waiting on some income to get the tickets and the hotel all paid for. I will say that I'd really like to go but it's up in the air.
I've also had some invites to do some cons/signings for this fall. Right now, work is piling up and with all the travelling and back and forth of the past couple of months, another plane trip would juts make my ears bleed. For now I'm just going to hole up in my office and work. It's the final stretch and I need to be there for it. When it's all done there will be lots of time for a tour but presently the book should be my primary focus. Thank you for the consideration.
Requests. Please read the FAQ regarding sketch requests before e-mailing. It's all there, it's all I have time for. Unless you send in the SASE with your information you won't get a response.
And what is a backing board? It's that acid free piece of cardboard you usually get with comics in bags. If you can't find one you can send a sturdy piece of art paper like bristol or sketch paper. These survive transit very well. Please keep the size reasonable, it'll save you on postage.
And I have no pages for sale just now, still working on the details there.
Hope that wasn't too grumpy sounding, I've got a lot of work to get back to.
I've also had some invites to do some cons/signings for this fall. Right now, work is piling up and with all the travelling and back and forth of the past couple of months, another plane trip would juts make my ears bleed. For now I'm just going to hole up in my office and work. It's the final stretch and I need to be there for it. When it's all done there will be lots of time for a tour but presently the book should be my primary focus. Thank you for the consideration.
Requests. Please read the FAQ regarding sketch requests before e-mailing. It's all there, it's all I have time for. Unless you send in the SASE with your information you won't get a response.
And what is a backing board? It's that acid free piece of cardboard you usually get with comics in bags. If you can't find one you can send a sturdy piece of art paper like bristol or sketch paper. These survive transit very well. Please keep the size reasonable, it'll save you on postage.
And I have no pages for sale just now, still working on the details there.
Hope that wasn't too grumpy sounding, I've got a lot of work to get back to.
Monday, June 12, 2006
I have a stack of everything to get done here. I have just spent the last week dropping everything, and I mean everything, to work on a script that had to be in by the 11th. A call had come in last week from parties interested in producing this story idea Ian and I have been playing with for the last few years.
Fortunately, as it turned out, our Simpson's story for Treehouse of Horror was bumped to next year leaving us this little window of time to do it (leftover free time from all the wedding madness of the last few weeks).
Thank you notes, bills, e-mail correspondence, sketch requests, dinner appointments, house cleaning, laundry...all dropped.
And somehow we did it. A complete 90-ish page script, done, within deadline. Me doing the first draft, Ian taking it in parts and rewriting as it went.
And I really have to say, regardless if this thing ever gets made or not, that it was such a wonderfully satisfying experience to just write like that. Work down the outline point by point, adding bits, solving problems, giving this sucker life after so much planning and talking about it.
Yeah, I could get used to this writing thing.
But for now, back to everything else...
Fortunately, as it turned out, our Simpson's story for Treehouse of Horror was bumped to next year leaving us this little window of time to do it (leftover free time from all the wedding madness of the last few weeks).
Thank you notes, bills, e-mail correspondence, sketch requests, dinner appointments, house cleaning, laundry...all dropped.
And somehow we did it. A complete 90-ish page script, done, within deadline. Me doing the first draft, Ian taking it in parts and rewriting as it went.
And I really have to say, regardless if this thing ever gets made or not, that it was such a wonderfully satisfying experience to just write like that. Work down the outline point by point, adding bits, solving problems, giving this sucker life after so much planning and talking about it.
Yeah, I could get used to this writing thing.
But for now, back to everything else...
I had this dream this morning where I was visiting someone on a bike. I had to lock it up with one of those combo locks because the area was rough and there was a person standing nearby that I had apparently had a history with, enough to make her want to steal my bike the moment my back was turned.
I had used this lock before but it had been a while so I wasn't sure of the combination. I looked at the numbers already on there and tried to memorise them knowing that the moment I locked it up those numbers would be scrambled and I'd be screwed if I forgot them. To make matters worse it was a 7 digit code, a lot of numbers to remember. I got a piece of scrap paper out of my bag an rummaged for something to write with which turned out to be a colour marker, the colour being "coffee with milk"
So I write down these numbers, watery coffee looking numbers and I lock my bike and I go inside.
Then I wake up and realise where those numbers came from and why they're so important: they're DC's fed ex account number which I use all the time to send pages out.
And then I remembered an issue of Planetary I'd read a few months back where the lead character uses this special code to activate some vault or weapon or something: the same number only the one and zeros were removed.
So, sacred mathematics or the result of deadline pressures seeping into the subconscious of the artistic mind?
Hm.
I had used this lock before but it had been a while so I wasn't sure of the combination. I looked at the numbers already on there and tried to memorise them knowing that the moment I locked it up those numbers would be scrambled and I'd be screwed if I forgot them. To make matters worse it was a 7 digit code, a lot of numbers to remember. I got a piece of scrap paper out of my bag an rummaged for something to write with which turned out to be a colour marker, the colour being "coffee with milk"
So I write down these numbers, watery coffee looking numbers and I lock my bike and I go inside.
Then I wake up and realise where those numbers came from and why they're so important: they're DC's fed ex account number which I use all the time to send pages out.
And then I remembered an issue of Planetary I'd read a few months back where the lead character uses this special code to activate some vault or weapon or something: the same number only the one and zeros were removed.
So, sacred mathematics or the result of deadline pressures seeping into the subconscious of the artistic mind?
Hm.
Friday, June 2, 2006
We're back and I've been meaning to post for a while now about the absolutely wicked wedding reception we held after getting home (I should be getting photos shortly) but today I was prompted to write in after hearing some absolutely, knock-me-on-my-ass great news.
Recently there was a story on an NPR show (All Things Considered I believe) talking about Y and as a result the first trade has shot up the Amazon charts ahead of the Da Vinci Code and the last Harry Potter book. Granted those are hardcover sales but holy crap! Number 37!
My face kinda did this weird Tex Avery thing that I'm sure others would have found amusing had I not been alone in the office listening to the It's All Gone Pete Tong soundtrack.
Wow. And wow.
Add to this the wonderful news of the book being nominated for a Harvey and this has been a lovely week indeed.
Wow.
Recently there was a story on an NPR show (All Things Considered I believe) talking about Y and as a result the first trade has shot up the Amazon charts ahead of the Da Vinci Code and the last Harry Potter book. Granted those are hardcover sales but holy crap! Number 37!
My face kinda did this weird Tex Avery thing that I'm sure others would have found amusing had I not been alone in the office listening to the It's All Gone Pete Tong soundtrack.
Wow. And wow.
Add to this the wonderful news of the book being nominated for a Harvey and this has been a lovely week indeed.
Wow.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Yesterday we toured up the coast to the north shore. Stopped for Matsumoto's famous shaved ice, watched wicked waves on the Banzai Pipeline and wandered around Mokulei Park looking for the odd Lost set (no celebrity sigthings, lots of parasurfers, skydivers and kids playing archery at summer camp).
Today we hiked up to the glorious (and FRIGID) Manoa falls and were overwhelmed with the enormity of the trees. Got a couple of mosquito bites in the process.
We head back tomorrow night. Looking forward to some swimming at Waikiki before we leave.
Today we hiked up to the glorious (and FRIGID) Manoa falls and were overwhelmed with the enormity of the trees. Got a couple of mosquito bites in the process.
We head back tomorrow night. Looking forward to some swimming at Waikiki before we leave.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Saturday, May 13, 2006
After months of planning and all kinds of crazy stress, we did it. Mr and Mrs Boothby. Yay! The ceremony was very cool with a traditional Hawaiian prayer, a beautiful location and just enough rain to make it absolutely unforgetable. Even the lame "getting lei'ed" jokes from our very kooky co-ordinator couldn't spoil the awesomeness of the day.
(Just a note, that gag may work for the teenagers but my 3 year old nephew? My 7 month old niece?)
The ocean is beautiful, the weather is gorgeous, the people are wonderful. We are loving it here.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
I've been hearing about the live Eagle Cam on the news and finally got around to checking it out this morning.
I am so hooked.
I am so hooked.
Monday, April 24, 2006
I finally got to the doctor's office to have my hand looked at. I show him the last two fingers on my right hand and explain how after nearly five weeks since I hit it against a doorway it's still achey.
The first thing he says, "Uhm, where's your knuckle?"
And that's when I see that I am in fact missing my third knuckle. I look at my left hand and see that there is a third knuckle there so where is it on my right hand?
He probes around and agrees that the fingers are swollen though not much. Probably not broken but that knuckle is definitely compressed.
I head off to x-rays. When those are done the tech comes back and says, "Can't see any breaks. Looks like it's in the muscles so just take care of it for a while."
Now believe it or not I found this news to be a bit of a let down. I know I've been in some aggravating pain over the last few weeks, not horrible but annoying enough to be slowing down my page rate which just makes me grumpier. When one goes through all that one wants some justification right? To be able to point to a film and go "See! I'm not just a whiney cry-baby who's slacking off! Something's actually WRONG!"
Instead I have a knuckle playing hide and seek.
I have several drawing requests here, some have been sitting in the IN box for a few weeks now while I battle my way through pages of art, wedding invites, travel plans, taxes and MSP paperwork. To all of you who have sent in requests please be patient as I get to them. I haven't forgotten you!
Now I have a dozen pages to get done before we're on a plane to get hitched in Hawaii. Back to it...
The first thing he says, "Uhm, where's your knuckle?"
And that's when I see that I am in fact missing my third knuckle. I look at my left hand and see that there is a third knuckle there so where is it on my right hand?
He probes around and agrees that the fingers are swollen though not much. Probably not broken but that knuckle is definitely compressed.
I head off to x-rays. When those are done the tech comes back and says, "Can't see any breaks. Looks like it's in the muscles so just take care of it for a while."
Now believe it or not I found this news to be a bit of a let down. I know I've been in some aggravating pain over the last few weeks, not horrible but annoying enough to be slowing down my page rate which just makes me grumpier. When one goes through all that one wants some justification right? To be able to point to a film and go "See! I'm not just a whiney cry-baby who's slacking off! Something's actually WRONG!"
Instead I have a knuckle playing hide and seek.
I have several drawing requests here, some have been sitting in the IN box for a few weeks now while I battle my way through pages of art, wedding invites, travel plans, taxes and MSP paperwork. To all of you who have sent in requests please be patient as I get to them. I haven't forgotten you!
Now I have a dozen pages to get done before we're on a plane to get hitched in Hawaii. Back to it...
Saturday, April 1, 2006
Emerald City Comic Con. This is a fun con. Got to talk to a lot of people today, so many nice things said about the book and wow, it's nice to hear that when you work day in and day out alone in a studio. We ducked out for lunch and then stopped by Kinokuniya for art supplies (love that place!) when I suddenly became roaringly ill. Blah. Maybe it was lunch, more likely it was the hotel breakfast with the processed circles of sausage and egg or the gallon milk bottle sitting in the ice tray for the cheerios.
We came back to the hotel and I passed out. Ian got an invite to play at a local improv show so I'm sitting here watching US tv and playing with new art supplies. I'm a sucker for Japanese sketch books.
Looking forward to tomorrow.
My smushed fingers are still driving me crazy. A week now and they're still stiff. Damn door jamb.
We came back to the hotel and I passed out. Ian got an invite to play at a local improv show so I'm sitting here watching US tv and playing with new art supplies. I'm a sucker for Japanese sketch books.
Looking forward to tomorrow.
My smushed fingers are still driving me crazy. A week now and they're still stiff. Damn door jamb.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Trudging home after an all nighter I passed two older men talking on the street when I caught the weirdest snippet of conversation:
"You see the government doesn't want you to know about that 'cause if they did you'd have fourteen year olds all over the country staying up all night playing with their elbows!"
Fingers are still sore.
"You see the government doesn't want you to know about that 'cause if they did you'd have fourteen year olds all over the country staying up all night playing with their elbows!"
Fingers are still sore.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
Ian told me about this weird dream he had this morning where we were in Atlantis and I was trying to explain 9/11 to the people there:
"These planes flew into a couple of buildings"
"What?"
"And they fell down."
"What?"
Hard to type tonight. I smashed my hand in our bedroom doorway again. It's really annoying because the jamb is like in a blind spot (that or my depth of field is all wonky), so when I go to reach for the light switch my hand swings into the jamb, smashing my knuckles in. It keeps happening and I'm getting pretty tired of it. To add insult to injury... or in this case more injury, as I was exiting the bedroom later on I did the same thing on my left hand. At the restaurant over lunch I burned a knuckle on the steel teapot as I was reaching for a lemon wedge and then on the way home in the cab a guy ran in front of us and nearly got hit causing Ian, who was holding my hand at the time, to squeeze really fast and hard. Not a good day to be my fingers.
Drawing will be fun tonight.
"These planes flew into a couple of buildings"
"What?"
"And they fell down."
"What?"
Hard to type tonight. I smashed my hand in our bedroom doorway again. It's really annoying because the jamb is like in a blind spot (that or my depth of field is all wonky), so when I go to reach for the light switch my hand swings into the jamb, smashing my knuckles in. It keeps happening and I'm getting pretty tired of it. To add insult to injury... or in this case more injury, as I was exiting the bedroom later on I did the same thing on my left hand. At the restaurant over lunch I burned a knuckle on the steel teapot as I was reaching for a lemon wedge and then on the way home in the cab a guy ran in front of us and nearly got hit causing Ian, who was holding my hand at the time, to squeeze really fast and hard. Not a good day to be my fingers.
Drawing will be fun tonight.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
First off, Ian and I will be at the Heritage Hall Comic Con this weekend. I'll have some pages for sale so if you've wanted to purchase one for a while, come on down.
Wedding plans are moving along. Spent way too much time this week putting together the invitations (of course I have to be crafty about it). There's still a tonne to do and we haven't got all the addresses back yet. Grah. I've just put away the scissors and envelopes after an all night assembly party with Ian and Vic and now I have to get some real work done.
Wedding plans are moving along. Spent way too much time this week putting together the invitations (of course I have to be crafty about it). There's still a tonne to do and we haven't got all the addresses back yet. Grah. I've just put away the scissors and envelopes after an all night assembly party with Ian and Vic and now I have to get some real work done.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Watching the opening ceremonies for the Winter Olympics is a big tradition in our family and tonight Vic, Ian and I set down to watch the crazy spectacle, giant balloon headed dancers and all.
In typical Olympic fashion it was a happy feely explosion of the bizarre, boisterous and bombastic, devoid of current politics save for the obligatory plea for peace followed by perfomers dressed as post modern doves doing acrobatics in a futurist avant garde frenzy.
Oh and Yoko Ono.
Ian's quote: "I've seen NFB films and I don't get this shit."
But there was one bit that made me smile and that was the entrance of athletes. Whoever was choreographing the music seemed to be having a huge laugh. Disco and 80s hits, like a great big grad medley from hell, playing a different song after every couple of countries. Songs like Hot Stuff (Finland), Disco Inferno (Uzbekistan) and Sweet Dreams (Poland). But the absolute best was at the entrance of Denmark and the stadium rang with the lyrics "I'm just a soul whose intentions are gooood! Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood!" We laughed so hard. Then Iran came out, "Won't you take me to...FUNKY TOWN!"
The United States came out to Aretha Franklin: "You better think (think) think about what you're trying to do to me. Yeah, think (think, think), let your mind go, let yourself be free."
That was so cool.
In typical Olympic fashion it was a happy feely explosion of the bizarre, boisterous and bombastic, devoid of current politics save for the obligatory plea for peace followed by perfomers dressed as post modern doves doing acrobatics in a futurist avant garde frenzy.
Oh and Yoko Ono.
Ian's quote: "I've seen NFB films and I don't get this shit."
But there was one bit that made me smile and that was the entrance of athletes. Whoever was choreographing the music seemed to be having a huge laugh. Disco and 80s hits, like a great big grad medley from hell, playing a different song after every couple of countries. Songs like Hot Stuff (Finland), Disco Inferno (Uzbekistan) and Sweet Dreams (Poland). But the absolute best was at the entrance of Denmark and the stadium rang with the lyrics "I'm just a soul whose intentions are gooood! Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood!" We laughed so hard. Then Iran came out, "Won't you take me to...FUNKY TOWN!"
The United States came out to Aretha Franklin: "You better think (think) think about what you're trying to do to me. Yeah, think (think, think), let your mind go, let yourself be free."
That was so cool.
Thursday, February 2, 2006
Wednesday, February 1, 2006
I had been using Nevidia.com as a site host for over a year with few problems. Every couple of weeks the site would go down for a couple of hours, I'd send in a complaint and get a response the next day saying "We can't see anything wrong here" and the site would be up again so I must have been imagining it. Annoying but whatever. Then a little while ago they went and lost my entire home page. Had to make a new one from scratch. Okay, didn't like that. Carrying on.
Last Friday the site went down. And it stayed down. I sent in complaints and got back one note saying they were having server difficulties, please be patient and I was. Until Monday came around and the site was still offline. I couldn't access the control panel, couldn't access their live chat assistant, their sales staff, their general contact info, no response from anyone. So bugger them and now I have a new host.
There are still some dangling bugs here and there, and I'll be working on those very soon. Work has been pretty heavy lately. This latest arc has a lot of detail in it and it's a lot to just keep up. The cats are adjusting to new food, Charlie needs a wet diet now that he's had some dental work done. The result being they get hungry sooner which means we end up losing sleep when cats start hovering around our heads in the morning.
Add to that a sucky predicament this week. Back in December Ian gave me a very cool birthday present: tickets to the Lord of the Rings musical in Toronto. We booked a hotel and airline tickets to go out this weekend to see it and were pretty excited about having a geeky little side trip to break the post Christmas/pre-wedding monotony. Yesterday morning we got a call that the Friday show was cancelled. Turns out, and the site really didn't make it very clear, that the tickets we had were for previews. Cost the same as regular nights, no caveats that shows could be cancelled for whatever reason... just cancelled.
Ian spent a good chunk of yesterday wrangling for refunds on the hotel and air. I had to re-organize a side trip to Calgary to see my godson. Blah.
So it's more work this weekend. Probably for the best.
Last Friday the site went down. And it stayed down. I sent in complaints and got back one note saying they were having server difficulties, please be patient and I was. Until Monday came around and the site was still offline. I couldn't access the control panel, couldn't access their live chat assistant, their sales staff, their general contact info, no response from anyone. So bugger them and now I have a new host.
There are still some dangling bugs here and there, and I'll be working on those very soon. Work has been pretty heavy lately. This latest arc has a lot of detail in it and it's a lot to just keep up. The cats are adjusting to new food, Charlie needs a wet diet now that he's had some dental work done. The result being they get hungry sooner which means we end up losing sleep when cats start hovering around our heads in the morning.
Add to that a sucky predicament this week. Back in December Ian gave me a very cool birthday present: tickets to the Lord of the Rings musical in Toronto. We booked a hotel and airline tickets to go out this weekend to see it and were pretty excited about having a geeky little side trip to break the post Christmas/pre-wedding monotony. Yesterday morning we got a call that the Friday show was cancelled. Turns out, and the site really didn't make it very clear, that the tickets we had were for previews. Cost the same as regular nights, no caveats that shows could be cancelled for whatever reason... just cancelled.
Ian spent a good chunk of yesterday wrangling for refunds on the hotel and air. I had to re-organize a side trip to Calgary to see my godson. Blah.
So it's more work this weekend. Probably for the best.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Vic and I were Watching NewsNet this morning and there was a story about a Hep A outbreak at a local restaurant known as the Foundation. This place is just down the street from the office. Wow, on the national news no less. Later I checked e-mails and got the first of what will probably be many urgent notices from friends of friends all starting chain letters and phone trees and what have you to get out the word about Hep A shots.
I was going to forget about it but I can't resist bringing it up for a bit here. This news doesn't surprise me in the slightest bit. Ian and I tried the restaurant last spring since we had heard from so many people how frickin' wonderful it was, an all vegan restaurant that wasn't the Nam (and the Nam's prices). The windows were constantly fogged up from the throngs of hipsters packing the joint night after night so why not, they must be on to something. A little change from Reno's right?
At first glance it's a big, open space littered with old style kitchen tables, like the ones your grandma had with the sparkly surfaces (usually chipped somewhere), lit by candles (even the kitchen was dark), the walls adorned with tacked-on posters of local artists' work (artists just poor enough to not frame them). And of course those hipsters. Everywhere, looking dour and just self involved enough to not look like they were trying too hard to be noticed for their introspection and depth. Ugh. Whatever, onto the food.
The menus were one of those conceptual nightmares that can't just come right out and say "spinach salad" they have to use cool mispellings combined with images of Che Guevarra and hip hop. How street. And oh yeah, since they were "non corporate" you couldn't just get a coke you had to order some revolutionary, economically friendly variant thereof. And not a very good one either.
After taking forever to figure out just what the fuck they served (vegetables, really) we had to wait an additional period of interminable limbo for one of the waitresses, very dour and self involved enough to not look... you get what I mean, disinterested in being there, to actually come over and take the order. She then shambled off to yet another hipster behind the dark counter (some guy with lots of facial jewelry). And holy shit it took forever to get the food, nearly an hour. We were steaming as much as the veggie soup.
And y'know, the food was pretty plain. Vegetables. A small scattering of nuts. Some water chestnut tasting chunks that robbed the meal of its overall flavour. And it wasn't filling at all. The thing about Vegan is, you have to make up for those protein gaps to be worth while. A big hunk of spinach just won't keep you from being hungry an hour later. Totally unimpressive.
A few months later we decided to give them another chance, just in case that one time was a total fluke. It wasn't. And this time there were giant posters taped to the walls with the same tired, old run of philosophical and political quotes (you know the drill, Ghandi, Santayana, Che again) drawn by hand in old Typewriter font. Oh please. That same Margaret Mead treatise on the power of the individual is on the side of a maternity wear shop over on Cambie! For Christ's sake!
And you know why these Hep A outbreaks tend to happen at the trendy, organic, global minded co-op type businesses (Capers anyone?), it's because the people working there are working so hard to look fucking hip and concerned that they forget the actual important things like washing their fucking hands!
God people! Good intentions don't keep your workplace sanitary. Yeah, hairnets are declasse but not as much as Hep A shots. Nor do good intentions change the world. Going out and doing something for others does. Not sitting around looking like you care because you're drinking a non corporate soda. Not wearing hemp cargo pants and putting your hair up in cornbraids (I'm looking at you Bobby white boy, pale as a ghost because you grew up on the rainy side of Port Coquitlam!), or you the deep poetess in your Main Street boutique gear and nose ring!
How does a glass of non coke change the world exactly? How many cases of that non coke do you think it'll take to change the village that produces it? Really change it for the better? Certainly not enough purchased by the bloody Foundation that's for sure.
I mean geez, you don't have to go out and run Enron or anything but there are so many ways you can contribute to the world that doesn't involve opting out of the mainstream and into the realm of the boring and ineffectual just to appear original because trust me, right now there are a million more out there just like you.
I was going to forget about it but I can't resist bringing it up for a bit here. This news doesn't surprise me in the slightest bit. Ian and I tried the restaurant last spring since we had heard from so many people how frickin' wonderful it was, an all vegan restaurant that wasn't the Nam (and the Nam's prices). The windows were constantly fogged up from the throngs of hipsters packing the joint night after night so why not, they must be on to something. A little change from Reno's right?
At first glance it's a big, open space littered with old style kitchen tables, like the ones your grandma had with the sparkly surfaces (usually chipped somewhere), lit by candles (even the kitchen was dark), the walls adorned with tacked-on posters of local artists' work (artists just poor enough to not frame them). And of course those hipsters. Everywhere, looking dour and just self involved enough to not look like they were trying too hard to be noticed for their introspection and depth. Ugh. Whatever, onto the food.
The menus were one of those conceptual nightmares that can't just come right out and say "spinach salad" they have to use cool mispellings combined with images of Che Guevarra and hip hop. How street. And oh yeah, since they were "non corporate" you couldn't just get a coke you had to order some revolutionary, economically friendly variant thereof. And not a very good one either.
After taking forever to figure out just what the fuck they served (vegetables, really) we had to wait an additional period of interminable limbo for one of the waitresses, very dour and self involved enough to not look... you get what I mean, disinterested in being there, to actually come over and take the order. She then shambled off to yet another hipster behind the dark counter (some guy with lots of facial jewelry). And holy shit it took forever to get the food, nearly an hour. We were steaming as much as the veggie soup.
And y'know, the food was pretty plain. Vegetables. A small scattering of nuts. Some water chestnut tasting chunks that robbed the meal of its overall flavour. And it wasn't filling at all. The thing about Vegan is, you have to make up for those protein gaps to be worth while. A big hunk of spinach just won't keep you from being hungry an hour later. Totally unimpressive.
A few months later we decided to give them another chance, just in case that one time was a total fluke. It wasn't. And this time there were giant posters taped to the walls with the same tired, old run of philosophical and political quotes (you know the drill, Ghandi, Santayana, Che again) drawn by hand in old Typewriter font. Oh please. That same Margaret Mead treatise on the power of the individual is on the side of a maternity wear shop over on Cambie! For Christ's sake!
And you know why these Hep A outbreaks tend to happen at the trendy, organic, global minded co-op type businesses (Capers anyone?), it's because the people working there are working so hard to look fucking hip and concerned that they forget the actual important things like washing their fucking hands!
God people! Good intentions don't keep your workplace sanitary. Yeah, hairnets are declasse but not as much as Hep A shots. Nor do good intentions change the world. Going out and doing something for others does. Not sitting around looking like you care because you're drinking a non corporate soda. Not wearing hemp cargo pants and putting your hair up in cornbraids (I'm looking at you Bobby white boy, pale as a ghost because you grew up on the rainy side of Port Coquitlam!), or you the deep poetess in your Main Street boutique gear and nose ring!
How does a glass of non coke change the world exactly? How many cases of that non coke do you think it'll take to change the village that produces it? Really change it for the better? Certainly not enough purchased by the bloody Foundation that's for sure.
I mean geez, you don't have to go out and run Enron or anything but there are so many ways you can contribute to the world that doesn't involve opting out of the mainstream and into the realm of the boring and ineffectual just to appear original because trust me, right now there are a million more out there just like you.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Yesterday we were in a cab taking Charlie to the vet. I carefully balanced the cat carrier on my lap in some attempt to calm the little guy down. This was his fourth trip in a month and he was really having none of it.
At one point I looked across a ravine to a parallel running road. There was a bus stop and a woman seated in a battery operated wheelchair, her head leaning a bit to one side, patiently waiting for her ride. Just then the chorus to Life is a Highway came blasting through the cab's radio.
Vancouver radio sucks.
At one point I looked across a ravine to a parallel running road. There was a bus stop and a woman seated in a battery operated wheelchair, her head leaning a bit to one side, patiently waiting for her ride. Just then the chorus to Life is a Highway came blasting through the cab's radio.
Vancouver radio sucks.
Monday, January 9, 2006
For all the little annoyances of comic cons, the socially awkward advances, the hygene issues, the Klingons, they all pale in comparison to the estrogen fueled nightmare that is Wedding Fair.
Every year the Westin Bayshore Hotel plays host to this expo of marital frenzy and this year we decided to go and collect business cards and brochures from over a hundred local companies in order to finalise plans for our upcoming big day. So for the ridiculous entry fee of twenty five bucks per head we get the privilege of attending a day long commercial for over-priced crap wrapped in tulle. We also get to fill out dozens of prize ballots inlcuding the whopper grand prize of an $87,000 wedding package, which is aparently the main reason to attend these shows.
After buying the tickets we fill out all the forms and ballots and make our way to the entrance where the door staff hustle the "bride" aka me to a separate line where they take my ticket and slap a large sticker on my chest, dead center between the boobs that says BRIDE on it. Oh great.
Once inside we are treated to one hell of a scene. You hear about bridezillas, you see the TLC shows and gawk at these crazy women who just seem to have come from another planet and wonder how the hell there can be nutjobs like this out there but it's such a shock when you see them in real life. And not just one, but dozenss of them. Everywhere. These women were unbelievable! Ian was knocked around constantly by women racing from ballot box to ballot box. I had so many women deke in lines ahead of me, shove their way to a brochure, wedge between myself and whoever I was chatting with, and oh god, the second it became known that the cupcakes at the Cupcakes booth could be taken as the show was coming to a close (despite the employees saying they were really stale) that table was set upon like vultures to a freshly deceased corpse and picked clean within minutes.
A few people asked me when the big day was and when I said it was in May there seemed to be this unanimous horror in their responses: "Wow! That's so soon!" One mentioned their wedding wasn't until next year. It's fickin' January! How much of a control freak do you need to be over one day!?
It took me a while to figure out the freaky vibe of the place and then it made total sense: of course, it was high school. Multiplied by about a thousand. Combine every vote for class president, audition for a part in the big play, preparations for grad night and a whole bunch of parent/teacher meetings and you get the emotional regression, hormonally charged mania and seething competition of brides looking for a deal.
The said brides all glared fiercely, looking each other up and down, making quick, harsh judgements while their maids of honour hovered ready to get her back should someone pull a switchblade and start a rumble. The mothers all had that worried furrow in their brows wondering how they were going to pay for it all, The grooms, what few there were, hung around the Canadian Tire booth looking at lawn mowers and plasma screen tvs.
We collected the information we wanted and got out of there asap.
Ugh.
Give me San Diego on Saturday any day.
Every year the Westin Bayshore Hotel plays host to this expo of marital frenzy and this year we decided to go and collect business cards and brochures from over a hundred local companies in order to finalise plans for our upcoming big day. So for the ridiculous entry fee of twenty five bucks per head we get the privilege of attending a day long commercial for over-priced crap wrapped in tulle. We also get to fill out dozens of prize ballots inlcuding the whopper grand prize of an $87,000 wedding package, which is aparently the main reason to attend these shows.
After buying the tickets we fill out all the forms and ballots and make our way to the entrance where the door staff hustle the "bride" aka me to a separate line where they take my ticket and slap a large sticker on my chest, dead center between the boobs that says BRIDE on it. Oh great.
Once inside we are treated to one hell of a scene. You hear about bridezillas, you see the TLC shows and gawk at these crazy women who just seem to have come from another planet and wonder how the hell there can be nutjobs like this out there but it's such a shock when you see them in real life. And not just one, but dozenss of them. Everywhere. These women were unbelievable! Ian was knocked around constantly by women racing from ballot box to ballot box. I had so many women deke in lines ahead of me, shove their way to a brochure, wedge between myself and whoever I was chatting with, and oh god, the second it became known that the cupcakes at the Cupcakes booth could be taken as the show was coming to a close (despite the employees saying they were really stale) that table was set upon like vultures to a freshly deceased corpse and picked clean within minutes.
A few people asked me when the big day was and when I said it was in May there seemed to be this unanimous horror in their responses: "Wow! That's so soon!" One mentioned their wedding wasn't until next year. It's fickin' January! How much of a control freak do you need to be over one day!?
It took me a while to figure out the freaky vibe of the place and then it made total sense: of course, it was high school. Multiplied by about a thousand. Combine every vote for class president, audition for a part in the big play, preparations for grad night and a whole bunch of parent/teacher meetings and you get the emotional regression, hormonally charged mania and seething competition of brides looking for a deal.
The said brides all glared fiercely, looking each other up and down, making quick, harsh judgements while their maids of honour hovered ready to get her back should someone pull a switchblade and start a rumble. The mothers all had that worried furrow in their brows wondering how they were going to pay for it all, The grooms, what few there were, hung around the Canadian Tire booth looking at lawn mowers and plasma screen tvs.
We collected the information we wanted and got out of there asap.
Ugh.
Give me San Diego on Saturday any day.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Christmas Eve already?!
The past few weeks have just whooshed by what with being back on the book after a very cozy vacation in November. I haven't got nearly all the things I wanted to do done for the holiday, the dining room table is covered in craft supplies that were intended for some cool card ideas but there hasn't been any time. Work, work, work. Gah.
Some urgent wedding plan mix ups presented themselves making it oh so much fun to deal with on top of all these deadlines, both holiday and work related.
The cats had some unexpected troubles leading to some whopper vet bills. I am such a sucky cat mom. Should have attended to this sooner.
And then there's the general grumpiness this season brings. Word to parents out there who want their kids' respect to last into adulthood: never announce your divorce on Christmas morning. Kinda messes up the day for the rest of their lives.
Holding it together okay. If you haven't heard from us yet, not to worry, we'll get to y'all all soon enough.
Merry Christmas.
The past few weeks have just whooshed by what with being back on the book after a very cozy vacation in November. I haven't got nearly all the things I wanted to do done for the holiday, the dining room table is covered in craft supplies that were intended for some cool card ideas but there hasn't been any time. Work, work, work. Gah.
Some urgent wedding plan mix ups presented themselves making it oh so much fun to deal with on top of all these deadlines, both holiday and work related.
The cats had some unexpected troubles leading to some whopper vet bills. I am such a sucky cat mom. Should have attended to this sooner.
And then there's the general grumpiness this season brings. Word to parents out there who want their kids' respect to last into adulthood: never announce your divorce on Christmas morning. Kinda messes up the day for the rest of their lives.
Holding it together okay. If you haven't heard from us yet, not to worry, we'll get to y'all all soon enough.
Merry Christmas.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The hazards of working in a male dominated profession: The Company Christmas Gift.
Every year DC gives out a little prezzie to its staff and creators and some years the item is dead useful, like last's year's travel bag which every recipient (myself included), sings its praises up and down "It holds everything I need for a weekend trip but is still small enough to take on a plane!", "It's got a laundry pouch! Wow!". The year before it was a sleek travel clock which every frazzled artist (myself included) instantly thought was a veiled threat saying "MEET YOUR DEADLINES OR ELSE!" But still, a pleasant and useful item that you could put a picture in if you liked.
This year it was a beautiful wristwatch.
Every year DC gives out a little prezzie to its staff and creators and some years the item is dead useful, like last's year's travel bag which every recipient (myself included), sings its praises up and down "It holds everything I need for a weekend trip but is still small enough to take on a plane!", "It's got a laundry pouch! Wow!". The year before it was a sleek travel clock which every frazzled artist (myself included) instantly thought was a veiled threat saying "MEET YOUR DEADLINES OR ELSE!" But still, a pleasant and useful item that you could put a picture in if you liked.
This year it was a beautiful wristwatch.
A man's wristwatch
Big. Heavy. Shiny. A manly man's watch. Aristotle Onassis would look at this watch and go "Hey, now there's a time piece!". Christopher Walken's character in Pulp Fiction would look at this watch and say "Now, wait just a minute- uh, I know a promise is a promise but- seriously?"
I'd have to work out in order to wear it, and even now I'm having some difficulty typing due to its mass dragging my arm down towards earth's center of gravity (or maybe it's pulling earth towards it I'm not quite sure). I have to take breaks after every sentence. Like so.
Phew.
I'll see if I can get it re-sized though I can see the chuckles I'll be getting at the jewelry store as I clean and jerk this item onto their counter top.
It is nice to feel like one of the guys this holiday season.
*g*
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)