Sharkboy

Yesterday was our first sewing class, we needed someone to help us learn how to thread and use a sewing machine, something we really could have used last halloween.

The class was from 11 to 2pm. We got there a little early as I needed to pay for the balance of the lesson and also get some extra class material I wasn’t able to find when shopping for fabric. I reazlized right away that I had a tad more energy than our teacher liked… She was very mellow, probably on her 4th camomile tea of the day, very soft spoken, so I toned it down a bit, but I was really excited to finally do this.

After the rest of the class came in, we all gathered around a large table and she went through the schedule for the day while other patrons came in an out of the little shop. The girl new her shit, she basically dissected the sewing machine for us and took the scary out of it. After 30 minutes of her talking, and practicing making a bobbin a few times, it was finally time to get to work:

With the pattern already cut, we were instructed to pin it to the fabric and then cut it to size. We then took the cut piece of fabric and ran it through the machine as to overlock the edges. Simple enough but still, I managed to fuck it up by pulling on the thread too hard too quickly, not realizing that you can’t take the fabric away from the machine unless the needle is ALL the way up… but I finished anyway. Next step was to measure each sides so we could do a fold and sew it. Already feeling a bit more comfortable and using a bit more speed.

Once that step was done, we had to do another couple of folds and sew again, that’s when I decided to improvise and sew the wrong ends of the fabric, looking like an idiot, and probably on my way to be the first one to fail this class. Luckily there is a lovely tool called the stitch remover.

That’s when I turned around and realized I was already 15 minutes late… Was I the last one to finish? DR was already done, so were another bunch of girly girls… And then I heard this other chick say that she wasn’t close to being finished either… Yeh, not the last one…

So I “unstitched the bad ones” and sewed again the right way and flip, flip, flip, turned the whole thing inside out and voila, it was done, my cushion cover was finished… All I had to do was stuff the form inside:

It certainly isn’t anywhere close to good, but I’m proud of my first sewing project:

DR and I bought fabric and material to do another one at home, just to make sure we practice… He also told his dad who’s leaving for South America until March that his apartment might be full of test pillows by the time he returns…

Yesterday I had an ultrasound appointment before going to work. It’s a preventive measure my doctor likes to take as 11 years ago I drove to the hospital in agony with what turned out to be a kidney stone. Not fun. So to avoid this whole trying to pass an 18 wheeler through my manly bits, I really don’t mind having someone pour goo on my belly and wand her way through my insides.

My appointment was at a different location than my past visits, not in the village area this time but right on Bay St. I’m sure they are not as accustomed at seeing men as the clinic on Sherbourne was, right smack in the gay village. So I come in 15 minutes before my time, register with the receptionist and made her correct the spelling of my name, yep, she put some extra “l” and “e” ‘s … bitch.

It’s not busy at all, I’m the only person in the waiting room. As I open my book, I’m now reading The Reader, the door opens and my name is called… no waiting at all. She walks me to a changing room where a piece of paper is lying on a chair. She instructs me to remove my shirt but to keep my pants and to put the paper poncho over my head. When I’m done, I will find her in the room across the hall. I do as I’m told and very soon I’m lying on my back looking at the ceiling and her repeatedly telling me: “Big breath in” “Breathe out” “Big Breath in” “Breath out”… no other words… then she surprises me with “Please turn to your left side”… and she goes on…

Only when she tells me to turn to my right side that I finally get some visual distraction. Her computer monitor is on screen saver and it is showing me her life… She is the perfect girl… she has a cat, she has a dog, she has a metrosexual boyfriend, she has lots of cute girlfriends who like to take group pictures with their heads stuck together, she goes to lots of weddings…. wait a minute, did she win a Miss Something contest, there’s a picture of her with a pink sash but I can’t read the glitter on it… I officially want to be her new bff.

She finishes and instructs me to use the paper poncho to wipe the goo and to dispose of it in the garbage can outside the changing room. Everything very clinical, everything very emotionless, everyting is fucking white in there… my eyes hurt.

I get dressed and make my way out, I thank her again when I walk in front of her office. I open the door that leads me into the waiting area. There is a woman sitting there and as I thank the receptionist, I steal a glimpse of the sitting woman making a raised eyebrows with a big O of a mouth, like according to her, only women should be in an clinic for ultrasound… I reach for the door and I’m pretty sure I hear the reception respond to her look with a giggle… I mean who knows I could be wrong, but just for good measure, I raise my middle finger at both of them as the door close.

Now I’m ready to face the fucktards at my office.

Last night we went to this:

Yep, that’s me screaming “motherfucker” as the end of the video when Baldy runs through and I miss my beloved Bulldozer ‘s win. What’s funny is DR was filming the same race but with his camera on Prowler, and the little glimpse you see of Prowler’s accident, losing the wheel, can be fully seen on his blog, check it out.

I had been once before, but this time was much better, all Monster trucks, no silly motocross races and 2, count ‘em 2 demolition derbies…

Next year we’ll buy our tickets earlier and sit in the lower section… oh yeah.

Today, while chatting with a friend, the subject came on about how much she was annoyed with a co-worker doing the ever graceful baby talk #67 over the phone with her boyfriend… you can easily imagine how the conversation between the two went, if not here’s a bit of an example for you baby-talk-challenged:

This whole little conversation reminded me so much of something else that happened to me years ago while at work. I just remember losing it completely and then feeling really bad that it wasn’t just in my head but out loud.

So I’m at work, 12 years ago, a co-worker just came back from maternity leave, when maternity leave was actually 6 months long and it was obviously hard for young mothers to leave their child behind to go back to work… I’m not heartless, I get it… really. But this co-worker would call home at the drop of a hat to see how the baby was doing… most often probably waking the poor sleeping baby with the sound of the telephone… One afternoon after way too many calls home, I exploded… Here’s how it went:

Co-worker: “Emmaaaa”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emmmmmaa:
“pause”
Co-worker: “EEEEEmmmmmmmmaaaa”"
“pause”
Co-worker: ” “Emmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaa”
“pause”
Co-worker:”Emmmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaa:
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emmaaa, it’s mommy”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emma”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emmmmmaaaa, it’s mommy, Emma”
“pause”
Co-worker: “EEEEmmmmmaaaa, baby, it’s mommy”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emmaaaaa”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emmaaaaa. Hi baby”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emma, it’s mommy calling”
“pause”
Co-worker: ” Emma”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Emmaaaa”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Em…
Me: “Jesus fucking christ, if she didn’t answer the first 150 times, she won’t answer this time either…”
“pause”
Co-worker: “Ok… hum, I better go”

The next hour was spent crying in the women’s bathroom with all the female co-workers checking in on her… and me finally finishing my report in peace.

My 6th grade was definitely a turning point in my life. I was 12 yrs old, we had just had a stellar year in Montreal with the Olympics and Nadia Comaneci and the most expensive stadium ever built, well, it was technically finished 11 years later, but I digress… My 6th year was a turning point because that is when I knew for sure I liked boys over girls.

I was very excited about returning to school that year, it was going to be my last year in grade school but most importantly, there was this one male teacher… and I wanted to be in his class so badly. Even if I didn’t really know what gay meant then, I knew he was like me… he hung out with girls and he had long hair and he wore clothes other teachers didn’t wear… and let’s just admit it, he was a tad effeminate.

Like me.

The only differences were that he was much older and he drove a yellow corvette. Little differences really. I’m sure at the time I wanted a yellow corvette too.

I wasn’t lucky enough to be in his class that year, but I did get a male teacher anyway. I didn’t get vibes from him at all, and he was married with children and he drove a car with rust on it… Not gay.

I don’t really know why I wanted to annoy this teacher so much, maybe I was a bit mad not to have had the one I wanted, but I was overtly pushy with him. I remember once continuing a conversation with a classmate after he had warned me to stop. He got mad and took me out of the class and once in the corridor he pointed to the principal’s office and told me to report to him… As if… I walked a bit, he went back inside the classroom and I hid in the art supply closet until the class was done… During a school dance, while I was sitting on the side of the gym, he told me to go ask a girl to dance, I said I wasn’t interested, he then chose one for me and embarrassed us until we finally danced together… Of course, the slow dance was with her arms extended and hands on my shoulders with room for 2 other kids to dance in between us… but that seemed to calm him down. He used to very often ask me questions in front of the class to maybe try to catch me off guard and possibly make a fool of me in front of the other students, but I did my homeworks, I knew my maths, it never really worked. Yep, I was a smartass way back then too.

Perhaps the most annoying thing I ever did in grade 6 was the day after he told me to sit my “skinny” ass down, I brought this:

My big red corduroy cushion.

Sure some kids made fun of me on the first few days, and the teacher probably tought it was a phase, but oh no… every afternoon, at the end of classes when putting our chairs on top of our desk so the floors could be cleaned, he was reminded as I proudly put my big red corduroy cushion on top of the chair. I brought that cushion home on the last day of class that year. I passed with glowing grades that year.

This guy’s bag was pressing against my ass. At first I wasn’t sure what to do but when he started pressing against me harder and harder, I had to act. So I turned to him and say: “Wouldn’t it make more sense if you took your bag off your shoulders?”. He just turned around and looked at me perplexed, so I went on: “It’s crowded enough, I don’t need your crap resting on me!”. So he asked what he was supposed to do with it and I pointed to mine, I had taken it off my back and was holding it at my feet. He just looked to the back of the streetcar and forced his way further into it, getting away from where I was standing… but never removing the bag he probably uses to carry his Volkswagen.

That was how my day started, at 7am, on the crowded streetcar on my way to the dentist

I bought the book a few months back and had all the intention of reading it before seeing the movie but I didn’t, I’ll defo read the book later. I was totally sold when I read that it was about loving the worst dog in the world.

The only thing I can say is that if you wear eye contacts, make sure you wear glasses for this movie.

When your shoulders and neck start hurting from playing way too much Little Big Planet, or when you’ve used all the different material options and outfits for your energetic little Sackboy, or when you’ve taken pictures after pictures of his different exploits, or when you’ve redone levels after levels because you finally unlocked the sticker you needed to get a better score, well, it’s time for a break. Sure there’s Wii Fit at your reach, but that’s now become a morning ritual. So what’s a boy to do during the rest of his days off on this nice holiday break? Seem like the answer is to sit down, on that very same couch, and watch movies.

We’ve done a lot of that in the last two weeks, we’ve seen some new stuff released on Blu-ray, some older stuff on dvd (or even on video as I still have lots of them stashed away), some of them movies, some of them documentaries, some of them TV shows… Thanks to Wii Fit, I can still make the blood flow and move around but mainly I’ve been Couch-Potato-King lately…

During this television orgy, 3 different DVDs have stuck out more than the rest, 2 older movies and 1 TV show I was more than happy to discover:

Number One Holiday Movie Fun:

I saw this movie when I was in grade 9 and it totally enthralled me, I remember making a review of it in my “religion” class as we talked about “evil” things… I don’t think my teacher was really impressed, but I know I convinced a few people to go see it.
Watching it again after so many years just showed how this movie was well-crafted and smart and wouldn’t benefit at all from an infamous remake. It’s great just the way it is. Well, maybe the finale would be a little better today with some extra digital special effects, but that’s it… the rest worked so well the way it was made. This was one of the very first movie to kill one of its stars, I mean Hitchock had done it in Psycho I know but I had not seen that movie yet as I sat in the dark theatre with this loud black car ridding the road of those pesky cyclists or french horn player hitchhikers. See this movie again (or for the first time).

Number Two Holiday Movie Fun:

How sweet to see a movie where homosexuality is normal, no one questioning it, no one opposing it, no vilains, except maybe the main character’s insecurities and undecisiveness, or even maybe his big city agent not understanding his need to be with family in time of needs. Then again, not even this mean agent has a problem with homosexuality, she just wants her artist back for gallery openings… and shit.
It’s a sweet movie to watch and there is at least one kleenex moment. I’ve warned you. It made me happy to revisit this movie 10 yrs later, I had forgotten the “magical” feel of it. See this movie for the first time (or see it again).

Number One Television Show Holiday Fun:

My good friend Magz gave me a copy of Season One for Christmas We sat down on Jan 1st to see if we’d like it and watched 8 episodes in a row, yeah, we liked it a lot. So much so, we bought Season Two yesterday. I cannot wait to see what happens next. It’s clever and fun and gory and sexy and takes place in one of the USA’s best locations: Miami. What’s not to like!
DR said he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to not think of David Fisher from Six Feet Under while watching Dexter’s star Michael C. Hall, but trust me, a few minutes into Dexter and it’s clear this actor has range and won’t fall back into the depressed selfish character he was starring as before. Buy this tv serie (don’t rent it, you’ll want to own it).

Of course, to poor DR’s dismay, I don’t limit my television watching to the couch, I watch at least one episode of this gem in bed every night before going to sleep:

And I laugh every night too, makes for sweeter dreams. But secretely I think he’s enjoying it too, well, at least a lot more than this other gem I was watching in bed every night before:

Pete Malloy was one of my first crushes as a kid.