Platform 327

It looks like crude oil isn’t the only shortage threatening to destroy civilization as we know it.

We need to take action. Start the pubic service announcements vilifying people who suck on balloons to make their voices sound funny. They are destroying our future!

Last night, I went to the Cumberland with Mr. Cool and Ravi to check out Control, the biopic about Ian Curtis from Joy Division.

I’m still digesting it. Suffice to say, it’s pretty intense and it puts Curtis’ music into context. I’ll be listening to nothing but Joy Division for the next few days.

Hey, Champy! Yeah, I’m looking at you, Mr. I-Need-A-Creative-Outlet! I hereby challenge you to NaNoWriMo!

I’ll even make it interesting for you. Sign up and get to 5,000 words on the official word count, and I’ll buy you a beer. Get to 25,000, I’ll buy you 3 beers. Get to 50,000, and your dinner and drinks at at the Granite are on me for a night.

Decline my challenge, and I’ll get you a scratching post and some kibble, because you’re just a big ol’ pussy!

Ya know what? I’m extending this challenge to you, too, Mr. Cool. Or should I say Mr. Fool? Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk!

Which one of you is brave enough to write 50,000 crappy words of lame fiction in 30 days?

By the way, Champy, did I mention there are a whole bunch of social gatherings around NaNoWriMo? Even if you don’t write anything, you can sign up on the site and find out where the meetings are. Lots of chicks participate in this thing, and they’re probably of better calibre than what you’re meeting on LavaLife.

A couple of weeks ago, W took me to see Henry Rollins at Convocation Hall. There was no flash photography allowed (even though I think I was the only person who respected that rule), and here’s how my cheap-ass camera saw Henry in the low-light conditions.

Pretty accurate, actually, considering he was non-stop for about 3.5 hours. Great show.

And with this, Random Photo Friday, as a regular feature, is canceled. Certain back-seat bloggers have reminded me how irritating running a personal blog can be when you offer any sort of planned content. While Random Photo Friday may resurface from time to time, this blog will be strictly run in a get-what-you-get-when-I-give-it-to-you format. Deal with it.

Besides, November is coming up soon, which means NaNoWriMo is going to be taking up most of my non-work computer time. I’ve got an idea for this month’s novel (no, I’m not telling you about it, and no, I’m not posting it here on December 1) that’s just utterly silly and comic-bookish, so I should be able to make it to my 50,000-word goal. I’ve done this 3 times so far, and didn’t get to the end the last 2 times. This year, I am determined to at least bring myself up to a 50% average. I’ve been looking forward to this November for months.

And for those of you who don’t get why I do it, I do it because it’s fun, creative, and challenging. If you still don’t get it, you never will, and I feel deeply sorry for you.

Well, not really. I just typed out my first review on Zip.ca, regarding my viewing of the show Crusade. For those of you who are not yet Zip members, (and you know who you are), here’s a copy of my review. I gave it a rating of 2 stars.

I didn’t get a chance to see this on TV, but I hadn’t heard good things about it. I was, however, looking forward to the chance to see it on DVD. I figured it couldn’t be as bad as the reviews.

Actually, it is.

Granted, there are few shows that are great in their first season, especially in the SF genre. If the show had been allowed to continue, if the cast and writers had had time to explore the characters more, if the story had reached its promised climax, Crusade may have been a great series.

Unfortunately, none of that stuff happened and we’re left with… this. Hammy acting, characters than never get beyond their D&D warrior/thief/mage archetypes, and the find-a-planet-and-weird-stuff-happens-every-week plot device makes this to Babylon 5 what Galactica 1980 was to (the original) Battlestar Galactica.

Made my way to the old Shouldice Clinic on Wednesday. I’ve got to say that York Region Transit has a web site that kicks TTC ass all over the GTA. I went to their site, told them I was coming from the Finch subway station and going to the clinic. They gave me 4 routes with departure times, fares, how many transfers I would need, and how long the trip would take at that time of day. Sweet.

The clinic itself was pretty painless as well. Filled in the forms, had my examination (by a student doctor watched over by some old dude), got my appointment for surgery and got out of there in less than an hour. The next appointment will not be so painless. On February 7, I go in, stay overnight, get operated on in the morning of February 8, and stay over for another 2 nights to make sure I’m not bleeding internally or any other nasty stuff.

Since it’s going to be such a long wait for surgery, I decided a hernia belt to hold my insides in for the next few months wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially since the doc wants me to lose 5 pounds off my belly before the ol’ snip-n-stitch. Gonna have to get some exercise in. Anyway, I figured there’s a giant Shoppers Drug Mart by my place, so I’d just pop in, get a hernia belt and be on my merry way.

No such luck. Of course. Have you noticed the dearth of actual health care products in drug stores today? If you want to dye your hair Turkish Coffee with Belgium Chocolate streaks and Swiss Mocha highlights, the drug store is the place to go. When I asked the pharmacist if they sold hernia belts, he said, “No, I don’t think we carry anything like that. But we have great deals on makeup and chocolate.” Okay, he didn’t actually say that, but he might as well have. He did suggest that I try the pharmacy at Toronto General Hospital, or some big surgical supply store up at Bathurst and Davenport. I live about 3 blocks from Toronto General, so I decided to give that a try.

I found three fucking food courts before finally stumbling upon the pharmacy in the hospital. Question: “Do you sell hernia belts?” Answer: “No. You’ll have to go to Shoppers for something like that.”

Uh-huh. For fuck sakes, it’s not like hernias are unheard of. They’re one of the most common hospital procedures in this country. Whatever.

So today it was off to the surgical supply store. The less said about that experience, the better. More people working there than customers, but all the workers were buzzing around like crazy, ignoring me for nearly 40 minutes. Finally got the hernia belt, though. It’s an uncomfortable contraption, but I can sit for a while without my guts starting to hurt, so I guess that’s a good thing.

How pathetic. I’m really starting to get depressed over this whole hernia thing. It’s yet another thing I probably could have prevented if I hadn’t spend all those years (and all that money) sitting on my ass and shoveling booze, smokes, and bad food into my gullet. It’s all catching up with me now. Even though I have made some changes for the better, maybe it’s too little too late. This shit just keeps on coming. I’m not looking forward to further aging, I tell ya whut.

Next time your fucking asshole boss gives you shit, tell the fucker you’re boosting morale in the goddamn office, for fuck sakes.

Shit.

Tomorrow I get on a subway, go all the way to Finch Station, get on a Vaughn Transit bus, get off at the Shouldice Clinic, and make an appointment for my hernia operation.

Ugh.

On the bright side, I get to see the place that got Jack Layton into so much trouble for going to a private clinic. “Duh, I didn’t know it was a private clinic.” Right, Jack. Are you such an ideologue that it doesn’t occur to you that a place with billiard tables, solariums, a 20-acre garden and putting green might not be part of the public health care system?

Personally, I have no problem with private clinics. I’ll be sure to bring my putter with me.

I just sent my resignation letter to Torontoist. My last post has been filed, and it goes up tomorrow. It’s yet another announcement for yet another event I can’t actually go to. That’s one of the things that was getting frustrating about writing for that blog.

But mostly, I was just getting really sick of the crap I was generating. There were things I wanted to do, but didn’t have any time to work on. What I put up on the site was all rushed and, quite frankly, painfully boring to read. I signed on to Torontoist with the intention of bringing back some of what I was doing with Second Life, but found that a) a full-time job didn’t leave me with the time to do it well; and b) I just didn’t want to go around interviewing people anymore. Doing that sort of thing was great when it was the full-time job. I loved going out and talking to people in Sudbury and Cobourg when I was writing for the newspapers out there. But while interviewing for some people is fun, to me it was always the hardest part of writing. I’ll do it when I’m on the clock no problem, but it’s not something I’m going to seek out after working in an office for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week.

All in all, though, it’s not a bad gig. If you think you’d like to write for a blog that’s about everything Toronto, they’re hiring.

But with the end of one chapter comes the beginning of another. And another, and another, and another, as the case may be. October is almost over, and November’s NaNoWriMo insanity is about ready to begin. At least writing crap for that is fine, because nobody’s ever going to read it. I’m only doing it this year because I’ve got to even out my record; in 3 attempts, I’ve succeeded once and failed twice. I need at least a 50% average to boost my self-esteem.

Random Photo Friday is off the air today, due to lack of time.