2006: The Year In Review

Lowlight: the flight back from Ottawa in early January. The plane took off late, landed to refuel in Calgary (or Edmonton, I forget) for a bit without letting us out, crying children, constant turbulence especially over the Rockies…

Highlight: repainting my condo over the summer.

  • Lowlight: the flight back from Ottawa in early January. The plane took off late, landed to refuel in Calgary (or Edmonton, I forget) for a bit without letting us out, crying children, constant turbulence especially over the Rockies… I was hot, vaguely claustrophobic and definitely nauseous (if I hadn’t loaded up on Gravol™, I’m sure I would have puked) and it was the longest 35 hours of my life. Oh, sure, my watch says it was only 7 hours, but I know better.
  • Highlight: repainting my condo over the summer. I got a colour consultant from Benjamin Moore to put a palette together, but I bought all the materials and did all the work myself. It was a huge project even though my place isn’t that big, but it gave me such a sense of accomplishment.
  • Lowlight: Being laid off in September, and spending the next 3+ months looking for work and feeling sorry for myself. But that turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because it gave me the kick in the pants I needed to start figuring out where I wanted my career to go. My previous job, interesting and challenging and enjoyable as it was, didn’t have many opportunities for advancement, and didn’t give me experience in technologies that boost my resume. I liked the work, the work environment and the coworkers, and I guess I was… comfortable there. Given the choice, I probably wouldn’t have left on my own. Yet in hindsight, I’m glad it happened.
  • Highlight: Getting a new job, which will start January 8th. It’s quite an interesting one (software development for a high-profile consulting/outsourcing corporation) with lots of cool technologies to play with and more opportunities for advancement than my old job. The salary’s a bit lower since I’m starting over in a junior position, but that’s okay. This is much better for my career, both short- and long-term than my old job.
  • Highlight: For various reasons I didn’t go back East this year (my first holidays away from home), but I had some fabu parties with local friends, on Xmas Eve, Xmas Day and New Year’s Eve. There was Monopoly and gifts and caviar and inappropriate touching and Dance Dance Revolution and Harry Potter Scene It™ (I’m not actually a fan, but most of the people at the New Year’s party were). Good times.

So there you go. Overall, 2006 was a pretty good year. Certainly a lot better than 2005. Now looking forward to 2007! Happy New Year, bonne et heureuse année to all.

The Long Night

Hey, the power’s back on.

So as you may have heard, there were massive windstorms in my neck of the woods, causing about 250,000 people (according to BC Hydro) to go without power. I was one of those people. Starting some time Thursday night to around noonish Friday, my appartment building (and indeed, my entire neighbourhood) had zero electricity.

Hey, the power’s back on.

So as you may have heard, there were massive windstorms in my neck of the woods, causing about 250,000 people (according to BC Hydro) to go without power. I was one of those people. Starting some time Thursday night to around noonish Friday, my appartment building (and indeed, my entire neighbourhood) had zero electricity. Then we had partial power in the building. The lights kind of worked—noticeably dimmer than usual, but good enough to read by—and we had some heat. But no elevators, no hot water, no major appliances and no cable. It could have been worse. As of last night there were still chunks of my neighborhood without any power at all.

It’s been an interesting day and a half. I walked to the mall yesterday, partly to shop and partly to soak in as much sunlight as I could. It was sunny but cold, and the wind was still really strong—what my forebears might call «un vent à écorner les bœufs.» Still, I was grateful for the sun, since I knew it’d get dark very soon. And man, without streetlights it really gets dark.

In hindsight, I really wasn’t prepared for a longer power failure. I had very little food that I could eat without a microwave (thank gawd the nearby Quizno’s had power by Friday evening—mmm, Teriyaki barbecue sub), not enough blankets, and no flashlight. On the plus side, without the TV and computer to distract me (they weren’t getting enough juice), I was free to get most of the way through Foucault’s Pendulum.

Dancin’ Fool

Went to a little Dance Dance Revolution party last night, and it was a blast. I’d never played DDR before or, really, given it much thought; the few times I’ve been in arcades since it came out I much preferred to shoot at zombies or terrorists, or revisit the old-school games I grew up with (you know, back when arcade games only cost 25¢ each).

Went to a little Dance Dance Revolution party last night, and it was a blast. I’d never played DDR before or, really, given it much thought; the few times I’ve been in arcades since it came out I much preferred to shoot at zombies or terrorists, or revisit the old-school games I grew up with (you know, back when arcade games only cost 25¢ each). And if I wanted to dance, I’d actually go out and dance, right? Then again, it does get kids off their butts and exercising a bit, so there you go.

But it turns out this pretend dancing is a lot of fun too. And, after a bit of practice, I actually got pretty good—consistently better than almost everybody else there. I don’t know if it’s because I was used to worrying about footwork from Taijiquan practice, or just that we homosexuals have natural rhythm (we do, right?). Although when the night was over my legs were more tired than I expected, way more than they should have been from dancing in brief two-minute bursts separated by long breaks. But then DDR consists only of very short, quick movements, probably using different muscles than real dancing. I guess nothing can prepare you for it except… playing DDR.

Afterwards some of us watched the South Park episode You Got F’d in the A (from the newly-released Season 8 DVD set), the one with the dance-off and Butters horribly killing lots of people. Man, that was a great ep.

Dianetics at the PNE

I went to the PNE last night, for the first time in a couple of years. Amongst the numerous vendors of household implements, cheap wallets and miracle stain removers at the marketplace were a few psychics, promising insight on your future, love life and financial situation for a modest fee. And, a Dianetics booth.

I went to the PNE last night, for the first time in a couple of years. Amongst the numerous vendors of household implements, cheap wallets and miracle stain removers at the marketplace were a few psychics, promising insight on your future, love life and financial situation for a modest fee. And, a Dianetics booth. The people there—who, it must be said, didn’t seem at all creepy or crazy—kept asking people if they wanted a stress test. I heroically resisted the urge to ask them how their pseudo-therapy was working on Tom Cruise.

One of my friends did get his palms read, purely for entertainment purposes. Which I considered doing myself, but I didn’t want to encourage the psychics by giving them my attention and money. (Mind you, I do occasionally buy the Weekly World News myself, when it has an especially outrageous cover story. The Garden of Eden being found in Colorado is one of my favourites. Apparently they even found two skeletons, one male and one female. Of course, the male skeleton was missing a rib!)

They printed out his chart—actually, two charts, one for the present and near future, one for the more distant future—which included some pretty diagrams of all the lines and regions on the hand, their connections to astrological signs and so on. His computer-generated scores in various areas of life (a) were really not that accurate, and (b) seemed to change more or less randomly between the two charts. But I guess the suckers who believe this stuff will assign special meaning to it anyways, ignore or forget the misses, and think they’ve spent their money wisely.

The Day I Kept Volleying To Myself While Wearing a Feather Boa

…while accompanied by a woman dressed like a volleyball and a man wearing an itty-bitty speedo, with volleyballs painted on his ass cheeks.

Yes kids, it was Pride Day, and I walked with the VGVA posse. Since most of them were in Montreal for the Gay Games, it was a pretty small production this year, just a small truck with rainbow balloons and streams and music… nothing too special.

…while accompanied by a woman dressed like a volleyball and a man wearing an itty-bitty speedo, with volleyballs painted on his ass cheeks.

Yes kids, it was Pride Day, and I walked with the VGVA posse. Since most of them were in Montreal for the Gay Games, it was a pretty small production this year, just a small truck with rainbow balloons and streams and music… nothing too special. We handed out little rubber bracelets with the VGVA Website on them, sprayed people with water, and I practiced my setting for the enjoyment of the people. Well, and also my own enjoyment.

Incidentally, a feather boa isn’t the best accessory to play volleyball in, especially when it’s, like, a hundred degrees. I was surprised at how warm those things are, at least around the neck. Gads, I don’t know how drag queens do it, I really don’t, with the dresses and the wigs and the accessories. How did they even keep their makeup in place, in yesterday’s heat? Laura (the human volleyball) had a bit of mascara on, and by the end of the parade it was running all over the place. But I had lots of fun. It was a nice change to be in the parade instead of watching it. On the one hand, I could only check out the floats just in front and behind us. On the other, I got to dance and play in front of all the people crowded along Denman and Pacific. Though I wasn’t exactly the centre of attention (see above, re: speedo, volleyball ass cheeks) it was a powerful experience to a formerly very shy, now not-quite-so-shy, guy such as myself.

Good Nets Make Good Neighbours

Watched the semi-finals of the Broadway Tech Centre basketball tournament today. It was a pleasant way to spend a lunch hour, though neither of the teams were from my company, and I didn’t know any of the players. One team showed pretty poor sportsmanship: they were way more aggressive, quicker to cry foul (literally) if the other team got aggressive, and had an annoyingly loud cheering section.

Watched the semi-finals of the Broadway Tech Centre basketball tournament today. It was a pleasant way to spend a lunch hour, though neither of the teams were from my company, and I didn’t know any of the players. One team showed pretty poor sportsmanship: they were way more aggressive, quicker to cry foul (literally) if the other team got aggressive, and had an annoyingly loud cheering section. All in all, they seemed more interested in winning than competing and having fun. So I started thinking: does this happen more in basketball than volleyball? Because I don’t remember ever seeing it in the games I’ve played, even in tournaments (and if you’re thinking gay volleyball doesn’t get competitive, think again). True, there’s some posturing and trash-talking (gawd knows I’ve done my share), but in my experience it’s all been good clean fun. And in volleyball each team stay on its side of the net. In basketball, though, you’re up close, in your opponent’s face all the time. Hands get waved around, elbows and knees bump (intentionally or not), personal spaces get invaded… and tempers flare. Kind of like hockey, I guess. Not to say it’ll necessarily be a worse atmosphere than volleyball, but the basic setup seems to make it more likely.

(I never did like basketball in high school. All that running around back and forth, didn’t have the endurance for it. Never got the hang of getting that ball in the basket, either.)

PS: the team with the cuter (and less aggressive) guys won. Yay!

Suddenly it’s a popular destination

I was hit three times in the groin while playing volleyball yesterday. All these years and I’ve been knocked on my ass, bopped in the nose or the back of the head, twisted a couple of ankles and really hurt my fingers when I tried to volley hard serves, but never received a volleyball in the groin even once, never mind three times in one afternoon. Totally accidental… or so they said.

I was hit three times in the groin while playing volleyball yesterday. All these years and I’ve been knocked on my ass, bopped in the nose or the back of the head, twisted a couple of ankles and really hurt my fingers when I tried to volley hard serves, but never received a volleyball in the groin even once, never mind three times in one afternoon. Totally accidental… or so they said. Good thing I’m not the suspicious type.

Anyways, there’s no harm done. The balls weren’t going all that fast, and in most cases I was able to block most of the force. Turns out I’ve got lightning-quick reflexes when I need them. My bits are safe to play another day. Although I am considering buying a codpiece, just to be sure.

A Wedding in Sooke

For the second time in three weeks I was on the Island; not in Tofino but the little town of Sooke, for my friend Nathan’s wedding. It was a very nice ceremony, nothing fancy, with Sooke Harbour as a gorgeous backdrop. Which became a grey and rainy backdrop the following day, so we really lucked out.

For the second time in three weeks I was on the Island; not in Tofino but the little town of Sooke, for my friend Nathan’s wedding. It was a very nice ceremony, nothing fancy, with Sooke Harbour as a gorgeous backdrop. Which became a grey and rainy backdrop the following day, so we really lucked out.

Sooke Harbour

Les and Suzanne

View

Ring Exchange, 2

Five of us stayed in a lovely bed & breakfast for the weekend. The scenery was beautiful, the amenities spotless, the breakfasts yummy beyond description. The only irritant was one of the owners, who turned out to be a hardcore evangelical Christian. I only found this out the evening after Nathan’s wedding, when we’d all gone back to the B&B to relax, and he struck up a conversation with Jon, one of our friends who I knew was also a devout Xian (but, to his credit, had never preached to me). I was upstairs, trying to lose myself in Stephen Baxter’s excellent Exultant but I couldn’t tune out the harsh dogma, talk of “church-planting” and other bizarre jargon. Finally I couldn’t take any more, and went for a walk. I headed down the Galloping Goose trail, got bored by the lack of scenery, so I decided to explore a trail following Ayum Creek down to the water. That was a lot more interesting, and washed away the unpleasant taste of dogmatism. Plus, it gave me some very nice pictures.

Red and Black

Ayum Creek

Cooper's Cove

Things got sour again the next morning as we were heading out. Sandra, an elementary school teacher and very politically active, got into an argument with the aforementioned Xian about the upcoming strike vote and teacher’s demands. He was absolutely opposed to the strike action (and, it seemed, pretty much any social activism), self-righteously accused the teachers of being greedy, and other equally insulting arguments. Sandra held her own but was getting visibly upset by the guy’s assholish attitude, so I stepped in. Partly out of chivalry, partly because I agreed with Sandra’s position, and partly because I enjoy a good argument every now and then. But it’s a good thing we were on our way out.

To be fair: we didn’t see much of him until our last morning, and his wife was extremely nice. Still, there’s no way I’m staying there again.)

Some more pictures over here!

Tofino and Back

Last week I had friends visit from Ottawa (not just to see me, tho: they’ve gone on an Alaskan cruise) and we spent a few days in Tofino. I picked them up at the airport Monday evening, and we headed down to Tsawwassen to take the Victoria ferry. We spent most of Tuesday traveling across the island; we could have done it in a few hours, but why rush? There was so much to see on the way.

Last week I had friends visit from Ottawa (not just to see me, tho: they’ve gone on an Alaskan cruise) and we spent a few days in Tofino. I picked them up at the airport Monday evening, and we headed down to Tsawwassen to take the Victoria ferry. We spent most of Tuesday traveling across the island; we could have done it in a few hours, but why rush? There was so much to see on the way.

Saanich Inlet

In Duncan, we stopped at the Quw’utsun’ Cultural Centre, where we looked at some totem poles and watched an interesting short film on the Cowichan people’s history and culture. Petroglyph Park was a bit of a disappointment, though—maybe I didn’t look in the right places, but the glyphs just weren’t that visible. it’s possible I was expecting big showy art like Cro-Magnon cave paintings. Oh, well; maybe I’ll give it (or other petroglyph sites on Vancouver Island) another go if I’m ever in the area again. Everything else about our trip across the island was stunning, though, from the big mountains to the serene lakes to the little creeks bubbling merrily by the highway.

Wally Creek

We stayed at the Pacific Sands resort, right by Cox Bay Beach. I took a walk on the beach that night, away from the resort, and was struck by the dizzying and awesome sight of the night sky crowded with stars. Equally awesome: the roaring blackness that was the Pacific, broken only by the foam on top of the waves, faintly reflecting the light from the resort. Having lived in cities all my life, I found such complete darkness disorienting and more than a little scary.

On Wednesday morning we took a walk on the beach at low tide and goggled at the stunning critters we found. There were big gorgeous starfish, several kinds of sea anemones, mussels, barnacles and more. I’d only thought about tides in the abstract, caused by the motion of the sun and the moon, but here it was real: there was the intertidal zone, covered in barnacles and mussels. This was nature, not in a zoo; powerful, untamed, dangerous and fascinating.

Pretty Starfish

Then, whale watching! We’d heard that gray whales had been sighted feeding in the area, so decided it was worth the risk of seasickness. I took lots of pictures of the nearby islands as we went past them, for reference. I think in the back of my mind I wanted to piece together a map of the area, and match island names with their actual appearance. But when I sorted through the pictures later, they pretty much all looked like nondescript rocks rising from the sea. Oh well. I did get a couple of pretty good shots of a gray whale. I was lucky to even get those, because as big as those creatures are (up to 15m), they’re very small compared to the very big Pacific Ocean. Most of the time all I could see was their spout in the distance.

Gray Whale

The best part was, I didn’t get seasick (though I got pretty worried the first time we cut engines to watch for whales). The credit goes to the two Gravols I took, and also to my always being on my feet and adjusting for the motion of the boat. In fact, I deliberately tried to imagine I was the one controlling the rocking, which I think helped even more. On the way back, the wind picked up and the waves got even worse. But I stayed abovedecks, even though I wore only a t-shirt and light jacket, because I knew if I went below I’d have a much better chance of being sick. I preferred to freeze, endure the wind and the spray (like needles on my face, it was!), than share my lunch with the fishes.

More Pounding Waves

Before docking we passed by a bald eagle’s nest on one of the little islands between Tofino and Meares Island, but it was too far for me to get a clear picture. That’s okay, though: I saw lots of bald eagles (another first for me) soaring majestically around the area.

We started back on Thursday, stopping to explore a couple of trails south of Long Beach, ending up in a little sheltered cove. My inner scientist perked right up, because it made an interesting contrast with Cox Bay Beach. Now, Cox Bay is a sandy beach, very exposed, with no (or very few) off-shore rocks. It has life, but only the kind of life that can hang on to bare rock and endure the strong tides: barnacles, mussels, anemones, starfish. This little cove, on the other hand, was a gravelly beach, and turned out to have much richer life in its tide pools: everything we saw on Cox Bay, plus little fishies, tiny little crabs, more kinds of seaweed and shellfish. They don’t have to fight the ebb and flow so much. I picked up a few seashell fragments, polished by the waves and bleached by the sun, and that was another difference: would shells survive on Cox Beach long enough to be bleached white before being swept out to sea or smashed against the rocks?

Cove

And that was it. I regret that this is only the second time I’ve been out to Tofino in almost ten years of living in Vancouver. It’s a different place, more relaxed, closer to nature. I’m not sure I could live there long-term, but I treasure the brief times I stayed. And I like to think I’ve brough something back besides souvenirs: in addition to some extra knowledge about the creatures I’ve encountered, I have a greater respect for the vast, uncaring (yet complex and endlessly fascinating) web of relationships that connect them, and me, together.

Wearing My Names

To conclude National Poetry Month, I thought I’d post the first and only poem of mine that ever got published. It appeared in the Fall 1994/Winter 1995 edition of The Radical Chameleon, OPIRG-Ottawa’s newsletter. I wrote a number of other poems over the next few years which I never tried to publish anywhere except this Web site—and then took offline for the current version because, well, I don’t think they’re all that good anymore. Except this one.

To conclude National Poetry Month, I thought I’d post the first and only poem of mine that ever got published. It appeared in the Fall 1994/Winter 1995 edition of The Radical Chameleon, OPIRG-Ottawa’s newsletter. I wrote a number of other poems over the next few years which I never tried to publish anywhere except this Web site—and then took offline for the current version because, well, I don’t think they’re all that good anymore. Except this one. Even after all this time, I still feel it’s pretty special, so I’m resurrecting it.

Wearing My Names

Call me Hesitant To Write This.
Spilling my guts isn’t easy for me
Coming out is hard to do.
Call me Shy, and A Private Kind Of Guy.
A piece of paper’s a pretty vulnerable place
For a heart to be.
So call me Forging Ahead Anyways.
After all,
What’s the worst that could happen?

First call me In Denial, and I mean seriously.
Had the desires, the fantasies, but
Never connected them with myself.
How’s that for doublethink?
And who was there to talk to me,
In this shell, in this shell,
And who was there to listen?

The dam broke, the truth came out.
I am homosexual. I am gay.
Call me Alone With My Secret.
Alone at least for a while.
And still afraid to speak out, speak about.
Not strong enough. Yet.

Call me Surprising Myself.
Edging my way out of the closet,
Every time a thrill.
My brothers, my parents.
«Je suis homosexuel.» «Est-ce que t’es sûr?»
“It’s a symbol of gay pride.” Loud and clear.
(Me: nervous, dozens of people around.)
Don’t want to look at pictures of naked women.
“Why?” “Because I&#82 Continue reading “Wearing My Names”