You Win Some, You Lose Some

Good morning, world. I've recovered from a weekend that involved a beautiful wedding, copious amounts of wine and gourmet food, ice cream, Mario Kart, and Iron Man. Okay, recover isn't the right word... I am mourning the loss of this past weekend. It was good fun, filled with many friends, and passed by too quickly.

But here I am, this Monday A.M., with tidings of comfort and joy (comfort and joy). After neglecting to shut down the "contest" on Saturday, I received a few extra entries (one in the form of my Mom saying "enter me!"). But, alas, there can only be three winners, and they are as follows:

1. Joshua at The Blah-Blah
2. JB at La belle écrivaine
3. Chelsea at Chelsea Talks Smack

This lovely trio will be awarded something cheap and potentially fun. The two former, I shall award you in person, thus also gifting you with the pleasure of being in my resplendent presence. Chelsea, whose blog I just discovered and is officially hilarious and neat, I need yer mailing address.

On the topic of people who are hilarious and neat, it must be mentioned that it is my lovely ginger's birthday today. He is turning 23 and entering his first school-free year since he was a wee freckled Caper with Orphan-Annie-esque curls. Please send him picks for his new banjo (thanks Christine!) and t-shirts with either Harold Ramis or Eddie Furlong on them. Preferably Ramis.

Happy Birthday, Andrew. Please watch Blood Simple with me this week. Also, please loan me The Tenant. K bye.

Halifax's Social Space

Have you heard of The Hub Halifax? No, not the short-lived bar in Dartmouth (Aka The Ice House, aka M-T Bellies, aka Hells Angels Eat Here, and now... Hooters. Oy vey), but a new social space opening up in Halifax.

According to their website, The Hub combines a meeting space with technology and people. It's community-shared, whether by groups or individuals, and allows you to pay for time spent there, versus paying rent. Here's the blurb:

The Hub is an incubator for social innovation. We offer membership of inspirational habitats in major world cities for social innovators to work, meet, learn, connect and realise progressive ideas. The Hub is a place for making things happen. All the tools and trimmings needed to cultivate an idea, launch a project, host a meeting and run a business.

As someone with limited access to (properly functioning) technology outside of the office--my laptop is on its way to the grave--this idea intrigues me. The Hub will apparently be kitted out with wireless, voicemail, its own server, and various machines that provide you with the ability to print, copy, fax, project, and hold a web conference (if FinalCut Pro finds its way onto this list, I'm definitely there). Programs will be offered to members at the Hub to encourage networking and idea-sharing.

A few friends of mine are amateur filmmakers, and I see this as an excellent resource for them. Freelancers might also use this space as an office or meeting-space. I'm also sensing a strong non-profit connection. The fee associated with using the space ranges on how much you want to use it. $300 gets you unlimited hours per month, $200 amounts to 12 days, $150 amounts to 6 days, and so forth.

If the Hub sounds like something you would use, there is a membership intent survey offered that seeks to pinpoint what potential members are looking for in this shared space. Be warned, they don't have a home, yet, and plan to be open in Fall 2008.

Cheap Thrills Ahead!

Your hero and mine, Mr. Ben Boudreau, has just informed me that I have won something cheap, and, no doubt, delightful by commenting on his blog.

I am a pro at winning things, a weird innate ability that traces itself back to grade four where I actually won one of those "guess the number of jelly beans in a jar" things by using some form of Beautiful Mind-esque arithmetic. It's not luck, I tell you, it's a skill.

In accordance with the rules, I'm going to offer you this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity... three commenters on this post will be selected at random to win cheap and possibly hilarious prizes. But be warned, all yea who comment here: should you win, you too must be burdened with the task of awarding your commenters. The deadline for commenting is this Saturday at noon.

I usually get, at most, three-ish comments on my posts. So you three, your chances are lookin' good!

Moments in Fiction: 1

(For ten points, guess the identity of the young man in this photo!)

On the heels of misadventure, we fired off, our ascent of groans and creaks punctuated by a crank radio sputtering Roy Orbison. It was nighttime and we were pickled; this was no time to fly. But the Cessna was there. You found the can of fuel and I saw the keys dangling from the ignition. These moments in life cannot be ignored, and so we gave into God and got in the plane.

“Are we in the air?” I asked, nonchalant in the midst of my terror.

“I don’t know, I guess so,” You replied. “I don’t feel the bumps of the road anymore. Hard to tell in the dark.”

We’re flying but the fun is lost in the dim light of early evening. No mountains, no desert, no farms, no ocean; all views collapse under dusk.

Orbison faded into tears, and the announcer chimes in with ads for cola and a big dance that was happening tonight at the community hall in Inglewood. I hear you hum something and mutter Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm worried, and for good reason. The wooden frame of the Cessna shakes as you wrench the controls and send us hurtling back towards the road… or where you thought the road was. Such things are troublesome in the dark.

“What are you doing? We’ve only been up here a minute!”

“I’m gettin’ bored,” you sighed. “There’s nothing to do up here but go in circles, and we don’t even get to see anything. C’mon, we’re going to the dance.”

At that moment the airplane bounced off the runway and my neck whips forward, sending my face crashing against the window. You let off the gas and we putter to a stop well past the road, all the way into the middle of a field. Ripe ears of corn are thumping against the plane. Some explode into a burst of yellow kernels raining down into the dirt. The plane stops. The field smells slightly sweet, with an earthy undertone of wet husks. An owl screeches overhead. We breathe in the rich air and quiver.

The quiet moment passes all too quickly as my head starts throbbing and I feel a slow burn pass over my temple. I probe it with my fingers and sense the beginning of a nasty bruise. No way to start out an evening that I'm starting to figure will now involve hunting down the neighbourhood girls.

“They never should’ve taught you how to fly that thing,” I whine as you stuff your backpack full of corn. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“What we’ve done,” you reply. “And we ain’t done nothing yet. Hurry up, we’re going to your place. I need to borrow a suit."

A Weekend in Review

I've been busy, folks. Work is picking up again as we head into the summer events season, and now that school is out, friends are slowly making up for lost time and, gasp, doing things.

On Saturday I missed the Farmer's Market, as my normally evil cat, Mia, decided to let me sleep in. Her new favourite thing to do is to get under the covers with me with just her head sticking out, lay on her side as we humans do. It is cute and unsettling at the same time, as I am convinced she was once buried in a pet [sic] sematary.

To make up for missing this market, Andrew and I hit the Halifax Crafters Market at the North Street Church. Hanging out with Andrew on a Saturday never happens (thanks, Dal Tech), so this was definitely a treat. The big draw me at this market was Orphanage Clothing... I've been missing checking out these reconstructed t-shirts since Junk & Foibles shut down. Also featured was Osha Mae Soaps, who I think is usually set up at the Dartmouth Farmers Market. Her tea-tree oil soap has saved my skin too many times to count. The rest of the sellers were new to me, and sold just about everything. Clothes for kids and adults, jewelery, pottery, photography, paintings, food, and other "crafty" wares were all at my fingertips. I left with a unique broach and a mouthful of fudge.

After leaving the craft market, we delved further into the North End. After perusing a very smelly Frenchy's on Robie Street (I love a good bargain bin, but this place was RANK), Andrew and I had an awesome dinner at Mary's Place. I've heard such good things about this place, it was impossible not to stop. Their sweet potato fries were damn near perfection, and thinking of my sandwich right now is making my mouth water. Serves me right for writing about food on my lunch break.

For some reason, after dinner we felt compelled to check out an army/navy surplus store, which was terrifying. Some bearded-dude spent the entire time talking about his knife collection, and his tendency to break his knives. Doing what, je ne sais pas---I was out of there before his conversation turned even scarier.

On the way back downtown, we stopped off at Lost & Found on Agricola, which just might be the place to fill my J&F void. In about five minutes spent rummaging, I found a Battlestar Galactica bag, two Bela Lugosi movies, earrings made of guitar picks, and a Yogi Bear lamp. These things just don't happen!

Feeling full of energy after being saturated in the weird and vintage, I made Andrew and his busted knee climb up Citadel Hill. Once arriving at the top, I noticed that there was a door open. My energetic disposition switched to one of mischief-making as I dragged the boyfriend about the obviously closed-to-the-public historic site, muttering random archives-fueled facts, like "The Maroons built this place!" and "The Duke of Kent liked round things!"

After narrowly avoiding being locked in the park overnight (I think it would be like From the Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler except colder and MAYBE haunted), we relaxed at my apartment with some Sabrina for mere minutes before heading to Windsor Street for what would prove to be a legendary night.

Being a self-professed wino, the B.Eng and I brought three bottles of wine between us to the kegger. We were fed delicious homemade cake (Jenn is awesome) watched spagetti westerns, and were given advice on where to go in Amsterdam. I took part in a massive group post-it-graffiti effort, which desecrated many a photo on Adam's wall.

After being at the kegger for a few hours, I received a phonecall from Joe and Brent, two friends I see maybe two or three times every couple of years. They told Andrew and myself that we had to come with them, no questions, and that they'd handle cover and drinks. Unsurprisingly we accepted and were chauffeured to the Bitter End where many a martini was consumed by the four of us plus Lindsay, who was celebrating her birthday. Little did we know, that Brent, her boyfriend, had concocted a mighty scheme that outdid all plans I had ever executed. This thing was airtight.

Brent and Joe had put together a MASSIVE pirate-themed scavenger in Point Pleasant Park. Armed with plastic swords and skull-and-crossbone pins, we followed maps that led us to a key, a treasure chest filled with food and drink, secret packages, and at the end, a lovely birthday gift for Lindsay. I still cannot believe this thing was orchestrated at midnight by the light of a cellphone. I can now say I've been to Martello Tower, where the hunt ended, although it was at night so I didn't see it due to it being DARK and SCARY. Actually, to be fair, it looked pretty darn scary in the daytime, according to Google Images. Very Tolkein-geekesque.

We spent nearly an hour and a half being foolish and hilarious in the park before I gave in to my hypothermia and went home at around 1:30 am. Serves me right for not bringing a jacket.

Next weekend folks are gettin' married and I'm planning a Sideways night. Hopefully events develop into epic adventures like this past weekend did. If not, I'm still cool with relaxing to the dulcet tones of your friend and mine, Paul Giamatti.

Social Media Social

Food, wine, and good company make for a great evening. What's even better is when the "good company" consists of experts in public relations, marketing, and technology who are excited to share their ideas and opinions with you. No, this wasn't Toronto, Montreal, or Vancouver---Halifax has had its first social media meet-up.

Organized by Ben Boudreau and Carman Pirie, this event brought together students, professionals, freelancers, technology experts, and many others who can be found blogging, podcasting, and tweeting, among other things. I must mention that the BPR crowd was well represented. Hopefully next time more MSVU alum (and maybe a few staff members) can make it out!

I entered the evening armed with a few web-savvy friends and a stack of business cards. I left with even more business cards, some fresh ideas, and a smile on my face. I was fortunate enough to meet Nova Scotians working in areas that interest me both personally and professionally. Ryan Deschamps was the guest speaker this evening, and spoke of his work with Halifax Regional Libraries. I'm hoping to pick his brain in the future, as archives and libraries hold a lot of common ground.

Colour was very well represented this evening, and I recognized a few people who I might have passed by at the TIANS conference or the World Trade and Convention Centre. Colour graciously picked up the tab for munchies, and announced that this event will hopefully be a monthly occurrence. MT&L was represented by Laurel, and Revolve had a presence as well. The diversity of the other attendees was astonishing... all sectors were present, from nonprofits, to government (well, I think just me!), small business, education, and the corporate all mingled and shared their thoughts.

I must state again how pleasant it was to meet such an intelligent, like-minded group of people. I left the evening feeling quite inspired, and plan on blogging more often---for real. It is a rare thing that I learn so much with a glass of sauvignon blanc in my hand. Thank-you, again to Ben for organizing this event and letting me know about it. Food, wine, good company, and social media... all the makings of a great evening.

Books of '08

So far in this glorious year of the potato, I have read:

• Atonement aka Kill Me Now
• Hungry Planet
• Holy Cow!
• Sophie's World
• The Stand
• Blindness
• Down and Out in Paris and London
• The Demon-Haunted World
• Tom Cruise: An Unauthorized Biography aka "lol $cientology xenu.net"
• Not Wanted on the Voyage
  

At book club, I was briefly threatened with reading Chuck Palahniuk, which just will not happen. I am not yet ready to join the ranks of emo pseudo-intellectuals who swear by his dribble. Instead, the next on the club's list is Lullabies for Little Criminals by Heather O'Neill. Good title.

Butterfly in the sky...

The title "bookish" is often applied to me, and I accept it with great pride. I've worked in two bookstores (one an awesome, second-hand place in Dartmouth, the other a fun maritime-themed joint in historic properties) and have a degree that made sure I took my share of English classes.

I used to read voraciously because, well, I had unlimited books at my disposal, be it at work or through school. I look back fondly at my Dartmouth bookstore days, where I discovered great authors like Kurt Vonnegut, Ray Bradbury, Jack Kerouac, and Manuel Puig. During the almost two years I worked there, my days, aside from shelving and pricing books, consisted of hunkering down with something awesome to read and talking with customers about their favourite authors and novels. Besides sometimes weirdos and the secret stash of VHS porn---remnants of the days when there was an adult section---that was kept in the bathroom (why they didn't just throw it out, je ne sais pas) it was a wonderful place to work.

This past summer was my introduction to tourism in Nova Scotia through Carrefour Atlantic Emporium, an eclectic shop that sold everything from soapstone carvings, to locally made toys, and of course, lots of books. Previous to working there, my experience with local authors was limited to Lesley Choyce, Farley Mowat, and Allistair MacLeod. At Carrefour I was told that I could sell books better if I read them... and so I did. Here I was introduced to many great Atlantic Canadian authors that I would have otherwise missed out on. Joan Clark, Wayne Johnston, Aimee McKay, George Elliot Clarke, Ann-Marie MacDonald, Frank Parker Day, Stephen Kimber, and Frank MacDonald now all grace my bookshelf. East Coast authors tend to be a little gritty, sometimes depressing, but hold lot of pride. The Cape Breton novel is a little different, as most that I have read tend to deal with escaping from a working-class, rural lifestyle, thrown in with either fishing or coal-mining. The pride is there, but it's muted. I still miss recommending books to tourists, knowing that they too will have to read the story where a son finds his father's corpse in the Atlantic, and discovers, somehow, that fish have eaten his testicles.

After the several years of reading a book every few weeks, I fell into a time of laziness and re-reads. In order to combat this terrible slump (during which I read, ugh, Atonement) I've just, informally, joined a book club. The first meeting is tonight, and although I have to cram almost 100 pages of reading when I get home this afternoon, I'm still quite excited. In school, I was always the nerd who got excited about book reports, and vehemently tried to track down those with the same tastes in lit.

The book we are reading is called Blindness and is written by Portuguese author José Saramago. This novel won Saramago the Nobel Prize for literature. Without giving anything away, I'll say that it is beautifully written with the ability to scare you through both the dark side of human (small p) politics, and the fear of epidemics. I'm starting to get a Lord of the Flies feeling, but it hasn't been fully realized yet. I'm eager to read more, and for once, am not skimming at all. That in itself is a feat.

I'm currently keeping track of my film-consumption here, and am going to start doing that same with books. I love book recommendations, so please give me a shout if you think I'd like something! I'm not a genre nazi, so anything goes!