Fury Plus.

I’m angry.  No, I’m not angry.  I’m more than that.  I don't know what I am, 'furious' doesn’t even come close.

Two weeks ago a friend confided in me.  It was about something so awful that it took a while to comprehend.  I can’t talk to anyone about it, even Wife.  That's a promise I won't break.  Secrecy.

My closest friends have a higher value than my biological family.  I would kill or die for them.  So to be in this position where all I can do is listen and be emotional support is incredibly frustrating.  I can’t resolve the situation.  I can’t fix it.  I can’t protect those I value.  I feel helpless, and it’s adding to the feelings about the issue itself.

I’m not constantly brooding on the problem – sailing and working in my basement are distractions.  But any other time it’s there lurking…  It's starting to wear me down, but I can't think of what to do other than just eat it and wait for it to either implode or erode.

Mental Flactulence

Last week I was in a wine store.  They had a sign by the cashier that read “Blind Tasting.”  My mental image was of a line of blind people being licked and compared.  It took me a second or two to realize that it really meant tasting wines without knowing the brand.

The other day I was lurking through Facebook, and came across the name Jane Dickeybird*. 

Jane was a girl that I lived with from 2000 until 2002.  While I never proposed to her, I once bought her a diamond ring without realizing the connotation.  I think she was actually disappointed when I told her it wasn't an engagement ring.  She was nasty though, after we broke up I was told that she was horribly rude to most of my friends.  They were too polite to tell me at the time...

When I saw Jane’s name on Facebook, my first thought was “wait a minute – I didn’t marry her too, did I?  Nope, Evil Ex and Wife are the only 2 spouses I’ve had.  She’s not crazy enough to have changed her name is she?”  No she isn’t, or at least as far as I know.  Jane Dickeybird is a friend of a friend, and just happens to have the specific name that my ex-girlfriend would have if we had stayed together.

My brain seems to be going wonky.  I’m misunderstanding things that should be fairly straightforward.  I’m catching my follies pretty quickly, but I don’t think they’re supposed to happen like this.  Or maybe they do and most people just don’t verbalize it?

*name changed to protect the innocent, aka ME.  And I have a pretty rare surname.

City Cyclist Sights

My bike still hasn’t been built.  However, last week I received a ‘loaner’ from the guy who’s putting it together.  Like most people who do piecework, he’s either in feast or famine mode.  In famine, you take all the work you can get, it becomes feast, and it takes a while to dig out of your commitments.  I understand this, Wife goes through it too.  So I’m being more patient than usual.  Still, I'm looking forward to getting my proper bicycle.

The bike he’s loaned me has bad brakes.  It takes around ½ a block to stop!  “Plan ahead,” he told me.  “Stop long before you need to.”  Unfortunately, in a city that isn’t usually what happens.  Tourists step into traffic without looking left, cars cut in and out of the bike lanes or around corners…

It’s been an exciting week for city cycling, but I’m riding pretty defensively.  I’m surviving, and the time I’m saving by not walking is really a bonus.

Also, riding to work this morning along Shuter Street, I passed 7 or 8 hookers.  Normally at this time of day, you might see one skagged-out ghost trolling for business.  But this many?  Wow – must be the humidity.  It really gives credit to “The early bird gets the worm,” huh?

The End To A Great Staycation

One of my goals last week was to sail, smoke cigars, drink beer, and finish some work on my basement.  Three out of four ain’t bad.  I did a lot of #1, ensured that #2 was accommodated once per day, and covered #3 to the point where I had to switch to wine for the weekend as my beer-belly was full.

Unfortunately #4 was a PITA*.  No matter what I tried, nothing would work.   I am mounting things on painted cinderblock walls.  My drill wouldn’t get more than ½” into the blocks, even with the tapcon drill bit.  So I borrowed a hammer drill from a friend.  Even THAT wouldn’t go more than ½” into the blocks!

I went to Home Depot and bought some industrial double-sided tape.  That held for a couple of hours before falling down. 

I went back to Home Depot and bought some Gorilla Glue, which is listed as being able to adhere to wood, concrete, plastic, and foam (among others).  It theoretically would stick, but required 1-2 hours’ pressure.  I can’t push the strapping against the wall for one or two hours.

After screaming obscenities at the wood slatting I was trying to mount, I had a brainwave:  Use the industrial tape AND the glue.  The tape should hold it together long enough for the glue to dry.  I tried it on Friday, and the slatting is soundly mounted on the walls.  Tonight I’m going to do the rest.  I might also have time to frame the acoustical foam that I’m hanging from the glued slatting.

All in all, a good weekend.  And it’ll look perfect in the rearview mirror once I get the basement done.

*PITA:  Pain In The Ass

Road-raging Cyclepaths

I was riding Wife's bike to the sailing club the other day.  Approaching a red-lighted intersection at Front & Parliament Streets, there was a taxi about to turn right.  Having at least 1/2 a brain, I stopped my bike behind the taxi allowing him the sensible (and legally-mandated) ability to turn without running me over.  The taxi driver was confused, watching me in his rear-view mirror.  I motioned for him to go ahead and turn while neither I or pedestrians are in his way.  I guess he expected me to cut in front of his bumper, pissing him off and possibly getting me run over.
Suddenly a voice shouted from behind me:  "F**king move it, a***ole!" A cyclist was impatiently waiting behind me.
I turned around, surprised.  "What?"
"Get out of the f**king way!"
"Shut the f**k up - the taxi was turning ahead of me!" I retorted.
"C***sucker!" the other cyclist shouted as he rode past me, nearly getting hit by the taxi.
Following behind him, I yelled "I have a brain, you retarded f**k!  If you cut off a car, i'll ride right through your corpse on my bike and THEN maybe call 911!"
He turned and looked at me, then rode on ahead.

At the next intersection, there was a TTC bus turning right, and the cyclist was patiently waiting behind it.  Doing exactly what he started shouting at me for.
I couldn't resist.  In a whiny voice I yelled "F**king move it a***ole!  What - can't you ride through a f***ing bus?"  By this point, to be honest I was possibly looking for a fight.
He turned and rode away quietly.

I am determined to be a safe cyclist.  Aside from the sheer stupidity of not recognizing the "might is right" rules of the road, I don't want to be one of those jerks that complains of a taxi cutting them off, who then ride along the sidewalk bumping into pedestrians coming out of shops.

Landsick

I spent the long weekend on a 27' Newport sailboat and had an absolutely fantastic weekend. 
The days were spent sailing from one destination to the next, drinks once reaching port, delicious dinner for all 12 of us, and more drinks to follow.
Up the next morning for a big breakfast, and heading back out on the water.

I got back yesterday evening, and even this morning I'm still landsick.  The world still feels like it's slowly rocking.  I'm probably walking like Cpt. Jack Sparrow!  And quite happy.

Dickey's Out Of Office Message

Today is my last workday until May 28.

Since February, my life has been a whirlwind.  I had 2 fantastic weeks sailing in the Virgin Islands.  3 days after returning, my mother passed away.  The day after her funeral I had to start rehearsing for a handful of St. Patrick’s Day shows.  The day after St. Patrick’s Day I had to start moving to our new house.  Things have been steamrolling and steamrolling, and next week was the first block of time available for vacation.

I’m going sailing for the weekend, and after that plan on finishing our basement while drinking lots of beer and smoking lots of cigars.  Basically just enjoying myself.

And today, I’m so burned out that enduring the next 6 hours is all I can think about.

I don’t know if I’ll be blogging next week, we’ll just have to see how it goes.  Have a great long weekend!