Happy New Year!!
I don't know about you, but ours started off pretty great. We went to the
Junior Ranks Mess for dinner and dancing. We were a little worried, because
when we bought the tickets two days before the deadline, we were given
tickets number three and four, but there were at least a hundred people
at the party, which was just a nice size crowd for the J.R.
The meal was nice, and they had a chocolate fountain that ran all night.
You just can't beat a six foot fountain that spews melted chocolate, with
fresh fruit and cookie wafers. Pen and I didn't know anyone there, but
after the meal a couple at one of the other tables invited us to sit with
them and their friends. They were good people, and we all had a great time.
Everyone was given two tickets for a chance to win prizes at the door when
we entered, which meant each couple had four chances to win one of the
ten or so prizes there. Pen and I won three times: a $200 Ski Package at
the local resort; a personal CD/MP3 player; and a basket full of expensive
bath products (body wash, rose petal soap, bath salts, body butter--I prefer
body gravy myself--slippers, etc.). I think the rest of the crowd wanted
to lynch us. To top it off, as we were leaving the DJ told everyone to
check under their seats for envelopes they'd hidden under some of them,
and Pen won a gift certificate for appetizers at Kelsy's. We got while
the getting was good.
For my New Year's Revolution, I plan on taking over the Canadian Military.
How hard can it be; there's only fifty thousand of us? I figure I'll attack
at coffee break while everyone is at Tim Horton's having their double double
and Tim Bits. That should cut the number on actual active duty to about
two. (People, not thousand.) Sure, when they come back from break they'll
be all wired on caffeine and white sugar, but by the time they get around
to checking their email and realise there's a coup in progress, they'll...
We saw The Aviator today, and it really saddened me. I felt
such pity for Howard Hughes. The scene where he sets the airspeed record,
and then comes home injured to Kate Hepburn and they're laughing about
how he crashed in a beet field, highlighted just how alive he was. Here
was this great man, slowly going mad, and he had no one to help him. And
the worst thing was, he knew it.
When the head of Pan Am comes to see him, and he's locked in his theatre,
naked, with his hair grown out, urinating in milk bottles, he knew he couldn't
allow the man to see him this way. As they talk through the door, and he
starts to obsessively repeat phrases, he bites his hand to stop himself,
because he knows. And when he has to appear before the inquiry, he has
Ava Gardner come clean him up, because he knows. He knows he's seeing things
and people that aren't there, and he knows, and he has no one.
The damn movie threw me into a funk for the rest of the night. I highly
If I didn't know better, I'd swear I keep getting older every day. Sometimes
I look in the mirror and think, "Who the hell is that, and what's he doing
in my clothes?" Luckily, the mirror isn't in the bedroom, or Pen could
be in real trouble.
Oh, yeah. I wrote a whole bunch more words on Darkside: Waking the Dead.
Rah, rah, rah.
Today Pen suggested that I throw out a chocolate bar simply because I'd
left it in my pocket and it had melted into a pile of goo. I tell you,
sometimes I don't understand that woman at all. I mean, that's like me
telling her she doesn't really need those shoes.
At the Squadron Christmas party, I was informed of a rumor that either
myself or another MCpl were getting promoted before the Christmas holidays.
Apparently I was the odds on favorite. Well, the last day before holidays
arrived, and neither of us was promoted. A few people from other trades,
and a bunch of officers, but not us. I just found out tonight that the
other guy got it today. And no, this doesn't mean I'll still get promoted
I guess there's nothing left to do now but sit around and wait for that
rejection letter from BAEN.
My Master Warrant Officer had a near-death experience today. He just didn't
realize it. When he asked me how I felt after the promotion fiasco, I told
him if I were a Postal Worker I'd be shooting up the place right about
now. He left me alone after that, which is wear the near-death part comes
And I came up with a new motto for the Canadian Military the other night
on IM Chat: The Canadian Forces--Never prepared. Always ready. Of
course Jaime said it sounded dirty, but that's just because she's been
hanging around Charlie too much.
I saw my Career Manger today, and yes, he's still alive. They wisely left
me until the last appointment--that way if I snuffed him at least everyone
else would still know where they stood.
Amazingly enough, I still didn't make the merit list. (No promotion, in
layman's terms.) It wasn't my last unit's fault, though--my overall score
on my last evaluation from there was 94%, which is incredibly good. Unfortunately
you need a couple of good ones to get you promoted.
Normally, with a score like that there's no way in hell they'd post you.
They'd leave you there until you got a second one, which would guarantee
promotion. Posting you basically kills your career. Here's how the conversation
Career Manger: "Oh my
God! 94%. Why in the hell did they post you?"
Me: "Um…they closed
the school down?"
Career Manger: "Oh,
Then he told me that
with a score like that all it would take is a half-descent evaluation from
the school I'm at now to put me on the merit list, but of course, I'm the
new guy again, so who knows. His plan is to keep me here at Borden for
another 4 years, or until I make Sgt. I hope he meant whichever comes first,
because if he's waiting for me to make Sgt at this rate I might just retire
So I went to Ebear's book launch at Bakka on Saturday. Bakka advertised
it with the slogan, "See Elizabeth Bear and get Hammered!" which was pretty
cool, until I realised they meant hammered by the weather. Yep, I travelled
from Borden to T.O. in a freaking blizzard, but it was worth it. Not only
did Ebear autograph my copy of Hammered, but I got her chocolate thumbprint
to boot. (Don't ask.)
Oh, yeah: Note to self--never eat a chocolate cookie just before the author
is about to do a reading. The damn thing went down the wrong way and I
had a coughing fit through at least the first four pages of narrative.
Interestingly enough, Ebear didn't even notice. So either she
was engrossed in the
moment of reading for her fans, or I'm more expendable than I thought.
Anyway, I caught up with some old friends, like Helen , and met some I
only knew from online, like Leah . The people at Bakka were great too--Chris
even added me to the mailing list. We went out for Indian food after, and
I just let Ebear and the others order, because hey, I know nothing about
Indian food, and I doubt Ebear would poison me (although after the cookie
incident I can't be too certain.)
Then it was another drive through the storm and home again. What with the
gas, food, and various other purchases, I figure Ebear's book launch cost
me about $80. That's one expensive paper back, but worth every penny.
(And I'm sure the chocolate thumb print only adds to the value.)
"Hey, Sarge. Sorry, but I won't be making it in to work today."
"Are you coming down with something?"
"No, just not interested."
Yeah, that's what I thought. I find lately if I write this stuff down before
I actually put it into action, I can save myself a lot of trouble and aggravation.
What I should have said was:
"And I don't think I'll be interested in coming in tomorrow, either."
Yeah, that's definitely better.
I can't get the tune to the new movie, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,
out of my head.
Willy Wonka, Willy
The amazing chocolateer
Willy Wonka, Willy
Everybody give a
He's modest, clever
and so smart…
But hey, It's got Johnny Depp in it, so you know I have to see it. Although
Johnny's portrayal of him is a little creepy. Willy seems almost Michael
Jackson-esque. I read where Johnny channeled Keith Richards for Pirates
of the Caribbean, so I can't help but wonder…
"Hey, Kids. I've invited four young boys to my home at Neverla…er…my chocolate