Month: December 2006

For the past few years I’ve bellyached pretty much all the time about how much I wanted to move home to Canada and near to my old home town.  I’m sure I drove a great deal of my co-workers and friends crazy with it.  Two things have always kept me from it, the lack of a job to go to and the lack of cash to make the move.

Now, as I’m facing the last 10 months I have on my work visa, I’m facing a more untenable reality, I don’t want to leave yet.  I’ve lived here for as long as I have lived any place since leaving Kincardine in 1994.  In fact, I think I will have lived in this Townhouse longer than I’ve lived anywhere (excepting my parent’s house in Kincardine where I lived for 8 years.

On top of all that, I’m very comfortable here in Eugene.  I mean, look at the views I get!

I know the staff at the local comic shops, by name even.  I’ve made a few friends that I really value and I’ve made a real life here.

I’m not saying that I want to go the citizenship route, but I don’t think I’m totally burnt out on Eugene yet.

That being said, if the right job came along and I could live someplace just as picturesque (but still urban enough…) I’d probably move along.

It’s the dilemma I face.

It’s so much of a dilemma I was trying to sell my comics.  All six Long Boxes.

C’est La Vie.

In my late teens and early 20s I started hanging around with a “Bad Crowd”(c)6000BC that had these kinds of parties.  Full of people and booze and drugs.  I was always a DD so I didn’t take part in the drinking/drugs (I was a major dork too) but on occasion, even totally sober, these parties were trippy beyond all reckoning.

I wouldn’t trade any of my memories of those parties for anything, even all the drama and heartache that came from them.  I doubt many of the people there would.  We all experienced life, and I got to see what I missed when I spent my teen years reading comics and going to “dances”.  Sure I had glimpsed “real partying” in my teen years, but this was on a level I never experienced.

I look in on those people from time to time.  A great number of them have tried to get as far from their pasts as possible. Some are still there, living in their flop-house lives.

It was gutter-born magic for a while.

It was NiteCat’s birthday, only 3 kids showed up fro her party (of about 30 that got invites).  She loved it either way, and they had a blast winning all the prizes for the party games and utterly destroying the pinata.

Got to see Rocky Balboa, I loved it.  It was great way to bookend the whole story with Rocky (spoiler) losing his last fight.  They did sort of lose the page with the sub-plot, but who cares. It was a great way to close out Rocky. I truly loved the movie and really got into it.

I highly recommend it.

What books did you love as a child?
Submitted by hearts.

One Book was my absolute favorite:  “Adventures with Hal” about a boy who visits his Grandparents house for the summer and ends up having to spend the whole time with his unfamiliar cousins.  It was just a fun little book about being young and having fun out in the forest (getting lost and stuff)

Don’t ask me why I liked it so much.

What’s the most klutzy thing you’ve ever done?
Submitted by Jecka.

I think every injury I’ve ever had was due to my own klutziness, but here is the best:

Have you seen “Mary Poppins”?  I have, tons of times; it was on “Disney Sunday” or whatever that show was over and over as I was a kid, so I’ve head the damn thing over and over.  Anyway I’ve seen That movie a ton, and when I was younger (under 8 I think) I’d seen it enough times to make me believe that the whole Umbrella thing was a workable plan for flight.

One blustery and windy day I took a big umbrella and with a weary look over my shoulder at the poor grounded people; ( who wouldn’t be flying that afternoon) I opened up the umbrella and felt the wind pull me.  It Pulled me right off my feet , and in a moment of joyous flight, right onto my knees.   Right onto my knees on a broken bottle.  In fact, in a moment of cosmic kismet right onto the thick upturned bottom of a glass bottle, waiting hungrily for young knees.

Initially it didn’t even hurt, or bleed.  I looked down into the innards of my knee and saw the off-white goo inside.  Then it bled.  It bled like crazy and so I cried.  I cried and yelled and got hustled off to the hospital.

It sucked.

I still have a scar, but at least I got to fly for a little… like Mary Poppins.  D’Oh.