Tuesday, August 17, 2004
Watering the dog, and killing the plants
Or something like that. Flag has this one bloody stool in the back yard that I was only drawn to by the horde of shiny green flies that found it originally. It's so sick-looking, and now I'm wondering if I can even take care of a dog, much less the plants that I was carefully watering at the time.
I have a confession. I took her on a run the other day that might have made her sick. She's really really active, but since she pulls really hard, she doesn't get to walk (read: run like a bat outta hell) very often on her leash. Thus, while her spirit says "it's GO time", her body is still a six year old Jack Russell body. Which, I've been informed, is roughly thirty one dog years. In this context, I was pulled by a thirty one year old menopausal woman around the block four times, while desperately trying not to crash into things with my rollerblades. She loved it, and begged for more, chest heaving, and whimpering with desire through her panting breath, but alas, I controlled myself and brought her up to the doorstep after the run. She sat by the door all night (I'd left the leash on the ground in my own exhaustion) thinking we were going back out. However, since then, she's been sort of listless, but this could be because I haven't taken her out since...or she really is sick and probably going to die or something else like that which will cost more money.
The female cast-off has been accepted tentatively into the pack
So, day crew day two has been fruitful. My initial submissiveness has paid off, and they now let me wander among them freely with my notepad and camera, taking notes. Even better, they actually like me. I wasn't truly concerned, and never will be, but it's nice to be respected at least and not treated like some ...one who doesn't deserve respect. I got nothing today, absolutely nothing. A girl in Meadowview can make yelping noises that are almost like dogwhistle pitch, and very painful. She really likes to do this too, during lunchbreak. Also- If I hear the phrase "pack mentality" as pertaining to the new crew one more time, I may have to challenge the alpha female and rip her to shreds or something, so I can make a rule that says, "referring to a group of mowers as a 1)pack, or 2) swarm, is creepy as hell, and should be discontinued." A sidenote to this is the action that goes with it. That's right....little dog ears (read: bunny ears on either side of face, accompanied by vicious snarling, which bunnies don't do.)
I fucked your MOM, I fucked her in the BUM...
Yesterday we all meandered down to the Fringe festival. Much fun was had by all, and though we didn't get to see the ...Lord of the Rings play, or the other fantastic play that Fenton wanted to see, or Nharcolepsy, but we did see Breaking Face, which was pretty good. I really enjoyed it. I always knew I'd enjoy going to the Fringe, but for some reason, I never did. I love watching drama, though I have painful memories of my debut as Yoda in a highschool play.
Anyways- Breaking Face, was a very intricately written play about the events that happened on Whyte, all the way from the Canada Day riot to the Albert's getting burnt down, as foretold by four young adults in the way that these events affected them. It's weird though, because the absolute last thing I was expecting when I watched it was for there to be stuff about September 11, 2001 in it, but it was. The whole coming up of the issue was dismaying at first, but it really did have some integrity in the script. Not a hell of a lot, but at least it didn't wreck the experience. The best part about this whole play however, was the surprisingly in-depth look at what the program dubbed, "the Mindless Young Man."
¶ 4:26 PM
I have a confession. I took her on a run the other day that might have made her sick. She's really really active, but since she pulls really hard, she doesn't get to walk (read: run like a bat outta hell) very often on her leash. Thus, while her spirit says "it's GO time", her body is still a six year old Jack Russell body. Which, I've been informed, is roughly thirty one dog years. In this context, I was pulled by a thirty one year old menopausal woman around the block four times, while desperately trying not to crash into things with my rollerblades. She loved it, and begged for more, chest heaving, and whimpering with desire through her panting breath, but alas, I controlled myself and brought her up to the doorstep after the run. She sat by the door all night (I'd left the leash on the ground in my own exhaustion) thinking we were going back out. However, since then, she's been sort of listless, but this could be because I haven't taken her out since...or she really is sick and probably going to die or something else like that which will cost more money.
The female cast-off has been accepted tentatively into the pack
So, day crew day two has been fruitful. My initial submissiveness has paid off, and they now let me wander among them freely with my notepad and camera, taking notes. Even better, they actually like me. I wasn't truly concerned, and never will be, but it's nice to be respected at least and not treated like some ...one who doesn't deserve respect. I got nothing today, absolutely nothing. A girl in Meadowview can make yelping noises that are almost like dogwhistle pitch, and very painful. She really likes to do this too, during lunchbreak. Also- If I hear the phrase "pack mentality" as pertaining to the new crew one more time, I may have to challenge the alpha female and rip her to shreds or something, so I can make a rule that says, "referring to a group of mowers as a 1)pack, or 2) swarm, is creepy as hell, and should be discontinued." A sidenote to this is the action that goes with it. That's right....little dog ears (read: bunny ears on either side of face, accompanied by vicious snarling, which bunnies don't do.)
I fucked your MOM, I fucked her in the BUM...
Yesterday we all meandered down to the Fringe festival. Much fun was had by all, and though we didn't get to see the ...Lord of the Rings play, or the other fantastic play that Fenton wanted to see, or Nharcolepsy, but we did see Breaking Face, which was pretty good. I really enjoyed it. I always knew I'd enjoy going to the Fringe, but for some reason, I never did. I love watching drama, though I have painful memories of my debut as Yoda in a highschool play.
Anyways- Breaking Face, was a very intricately written play about the events that happened on Whyte, all the way from the Canada Day riot to the Albert's getting burnt down, as foretold by four young adults in the way that these events affected them. It's weird though, because the absolute last thing I was expecting when I watched it was for there to be stuff about September 11, 2001 in it, but it was. The whole coming up of the issue was dismaying at first, but it really did have some integrity in the script. Not a hell of a lot, but at least it didn't wreck the experience. The best part about this whole play however, was the surprisingly in-depth look at what the program dubbed, "the Mindless Young Man."
And I quote: "But the Mindless Young Man has the memory of a stoned goldfish. He is an anti-intellectual, self-indulgent bastard, prone to violent mood swings, unfamiliar and indifferent to logic, embracing the shittiest, lowest-grade pornographic tastes in human history, and having an overall effect on the market and world at large..."
It's a stereotype of course, but it is still funny as hell, and still sort of interesting to think about.
¶ 4:26 PM
