Okay. Friday Pen booked me into the local spa for an hour and a half
massage, after which we went out to dinner and dancing.
Saturday we went into T.O., did some shopping, then took a room at the
Weston Harbour Front overlooking the lake. After a great dinner at
a fancy French Restaurant, we went to the ballet and saw Madam Butterfly.
(Iíll make fun of the ballet in another post--promise.)
Sunday, we had lunch at Shopsyís, went for a nice walk through the fashion
district, and then saw the Lion King (the play, not the movie.) We
went out to the Keg for dinner in Oshawa, then a movie, and finally home.
Did I mention the gifts she showered me with? So, how was your
Congratulations to my brother James
and his wife Kathy, whose baby boy, Christopher David Kenneth Perry, was
born 19 May 2001 at 01:56 AM, weighing in at 9 lbs. 14 oz. Woohoo!!!
Some of you may have been wondering what Iíve been up to lately.
For those of you who havenít, you can just skip this part.
Iím back to shift work again, which is taking me a bit to get used to.
On top of that, apparently when you get old in the military they have to
do a complete warranty check on you. Wednesday I had my physical
fitness testing. Apparently I did so well that I get to skip next
yearís. That may sound like an accomplishment, but when youíre forty
basically all you have to do is show up and breath--in and out,
mind you--and you exceed the standard.
Thursday morning I had my annual dental check-up. And no, I couldnít
just send my teeth over in a glass. Theyíre all mine, you hear me.
Mine! The dental check-up up was immediately followed by my over-forty
physical, which meant I had to fast for 14 hours beforehand (which might
explain why my teeth were so clean for the dental check-up.) The
results: vision--perfect; hearing--perfect; blood pressure--perfect; pulse--48
(they had to recheck that a couple of times). They stuck a needle
in me and stole blood. I havenít got the results back from that yet,
but it was red, which is generally a good sign.
Speaking of needles, mine were all out of date, so I have to go for a series
of them. And not just an Isaac Asimovís Foundation Trilogy series,
either, but one of those Robert Jordan Never Ending Wheel of Time Series.
I got four needles at once, and have to go back for more until Iím finally
caught up--on November 21.
On the writing front, Pen made me buy a laptop. It was one of those
$300 dollar rebate, donít-pay-a-cent-not-even-the-taxes, no-hidden-fees,
for-six-months-and-then-only-if-you-can-find-me deals. So now thereís
no excuse for me not-writing. Well, I still have excuses, but theyíre
really sucky ones.
I still havenít heard back from the agent about Darkside yet. By
end of May it will have been two months, which means Iíll have to query
her about it. *sigh* Hopefully she hasnít been speaking to
Terry Brooks about it.
Find something you love to do, and then figure out a way to get paid for
it. Sounds simple, right?
I love playing the drums. Iím good at it too. There are times
when Iím playing that everything just seems to mesh--vocals, guitars, keyboards,
base and drums--the music seems to cut through me and dredge up emotions
of pure ecstasy. Satori. A state of enlightenment.
Thatís how I feel. So why canít I find a band? Trenton is a
small town. Good musicians are hard to find. In the nine years
Iíve been back in Trenton, I spent maybe a year and a half of that on-stage.
The rest has been spent practicing in the basement with bands that
fall apart or self-destruct before we ever set foot on stage.
I love to write, or at least to have written. Whether or not Iím
any good at it is debateable. Iím still unpublished. Iíve come
close--which means absolutely nothing. There are a lot of people
that have expressed confidence and faith in my ability, and assure me that
success is just around the corner. Lately Iím afraid that theyíre
in for a big disappointment.
Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, or how good we are, things just donít
work out--and Iím running out of things I love to do.
What the hell is wrong with the world today? The guy from housing
came today and told me I had to move my satellite dish, at my own expense,
because weíre not allowed to attach them to the house. I paid to
have the dish installed, and before doing so called and obtained permission.
I told him I wouldnít move it, but if he wanted to send someone out to
do so to go right ahead. No deal.
Even though itís their mistake, I have to do it myself. He kept insisting
that no-one was calling me a liar, but in the same breath asked me if I
had permission in writing. Even though I wasnít a liar, unless I
had written permission, I might as well be one. Without written permission,
though the fault lies with Housing--and they know it--I canít prove it.
Therefore theyíre not responsible. So much for honour, honesty and
On the writing front, I wrote 500 words today on Darkside 2 Chapter Four.
Is everybody happy now? :-)
I wrote another six hundred words on Darkside 2 today. I sat out
in the sun, on my deck, with my laptop and a Diet Pepsi, and enjoyed every
minute. It just doesn't get much better than that. Well, I
suppose I could be getting paid to write. That would be better.
And my deck could be attached to a huge house overlooking the lake.
Yeah, that would be better too. Hmmm. Maybe I set my sights
too low. It was still pretty good, though.