arvTales

TS, standing infront of the fax machine while I'm telling her a story:
"Hold on. Let me get divorced first, then I'll come over."

Me: Would it be ethical if I asked out the candidate right after your interview?
CN: What?
Me: One word: Woah.
CN: Guys, guys, guys. Get this. A here thinks the girl in the interview room is hot.
Me: I didn't say that. I said she's "Woah."
CN: You guys have to pass by to see if he's right.

At this point CN runs off and greets the candidate, who is, by the way, extremely Woah.

I awoke with pain in my right arm and right side and I couldn't figure out why. It was hours later when I figured out the reason.

It was my Wii.

Obviously, in my excitement yesterday, I got carried away and overdid playing. The arm swinging involved in Zelda and Tennis was way too intense. Fun though.

Can't type. Arm hurts. Ouch.

A Rogers Rep was nice to me yesterday, an event worth writing about.

Why was I talking to a Rogers Rep? Because I wanted to get my Dad Raptors Television, that's why. He's a Raptor nut.

I even set up his telly so he could record a digital channel while watching another.

That all happened yesterday.

Today, he played around with the set up for two hours, trying to make it better. That's my Dad. He's an engineer so he thinks he can always make things better.

At the end of the day he gave up and returned the electronics to my original set up. He's an engineer and he knows a good design when he sees one, even if it takes him hours to realize it.

Day One
It was a usual Friday. I got home at the usual time. I grabbed the day's paper and yesterday's as well. It was time to catch up on some reading.

After a half hour of reading, I decided I wanted a Wii.

I invited my brother and off we went. To Loblaws. Groceries first, we decided. They also happen to sell Wiis. Two birds, say hello to Mr. Stone.

As he gingerly pulled a shopping cart from the neat lineup, I hurried to the electronics department. In the confined "electronics and photo" department, a nice young man was paying for his prints at the counter, so I busied myself trying to look for Wii and Wii-related accesories and games.

I found nothing.

I waited for the nice young man to leave before I questioned the photolab lady.

"Do you have any Wiis?"

"Sorry, we sold out last week."

"When do you think you'll be getting some in?"

"Probably next week."

"Thanks!"

Wii-less, I proceeded to examine find out how soft silken tofu really was. After grocery shopping, we rushed towards Wal-Mart, just in case we got lucky.

Wal-Mart had no Wiis but they had Zelda: Twilight Princess so we bought that along with a Points Card—for buying retro games for play on my future Wii.


Day Two
We planned on leaving early in the morning; Malvern Zellers first then Agincourt, though that's not how it turned out. I made the last minute decision to try Agincourt first. If there was a line at Malvern, I didn't want to get in a fight and possibly get shot. Malvern has a well-deserved reputation. So Agincourt it is.

"We didn't get any shipments yesterday or today." Malvern it is.

"We sold out this morning." This morning? It's not even 8:30. "There was a line up."

After regrouping, we went to Cedarbrae Mall. There's a Toys R Us and a Zellers there. We knew Zellers was a long-shot.

The mall had a lineup in front of Canadian Tire. Are those people waiting in line for a Wii too? Heh.

Zellers had nothing, not even accessories. Toys R Us was still closed so I lined up for coffee. While waiting in line, the store opened up. People rushed into the electronics department. At first I thought they were there for Wiis too. Later I found out that they had a video game clearance sale. Oh, and they had no Wiis. I did pick up a Wii Remote though.

So far, I have a Wii-mote, Zelda, and a Points Card.

A CD was waiting for me at Deja Vu Discs, so we had breakfast at a nearby bagel shop while waiting for it to open at 10.

With CD in hand, we hopped, skipped and jumped to the Chapters. He decided to pass on the new MT Anderson book till the hardover sale. I picked up Futures Past and a John Raulston Saul essay. Last store before lunch was Wal-Mart. No Wii, but there was a Nunchuk, so picked that up.

So far, I have a Wii-mote, Zelda, a Points Card, and a Nunchuk. The set is almost complete; all we need is a Wii.

Home was next. Cooked lunched, hit the net, did some research, decided to buy Trauma Center, and called some stores. One store said, "Yes, we have Wii stock." You're kidding. "If you come here today, we'll probably have one for you."

We were there in less than 15 minutes.

Trauma Center was too expensive, so passed on that.

I mentally tallied the time spent driving and searching, as well as money spent on the system. It came to four and a half hours, including groceries and breakfast, and other errands; and $500 for the console, extra controllers and games. All that doesn't matter now because I am having a blast with my new console.

Wii!

I observe, I notice. I just don't say anything.

I find that most people, when they change something in their life, no matter how small, expect others to notice it and say something. Well I'm not playing that game, sister.

Yes, I noticed your hair. Yes, it's nice. No, I'm not going to tell you it's nice because you don't need me to tell you that. You're a strong enough person not to need the validation of others. Or maybe you're not and you do.

Everyone is insecure. Every single human being anywhere in the universe has something they're not happy about in themselves, either physically or mentally.

From a large forehead, to that nagging feeling that you're a fraud—a charlatan, playing at things you've not the talent for—everyone's insecurities gnaw at them.

Insecurities aren't bad. It's what we do with them which are positive or negative.

It's clichéd and derived but that doesn't make it untrue: Learn to accept yourself and all your faults and you'll be better for it. If you can't accept it, don't complain. Do something about it. Change yourself, physically or mentally. Change how you look, change how you see yourself.

Just don't expect me to say something about it when you do.

Thinking about My Passion led me to thinking about success. I came upon (what some would say) an obvious observation and revelation: Those people who I deem successful are all entrepreneurs and they all wake up very early.

Is there a propensity for self-driven individuals to want to wake up early? Perhaps this early-to-rise drive stems from the desire to cram as much activity into the day as possible. Human psychology and logic says this is so.

How do I learn from this? Since I already wake up pretty early and sleep very late, how much more "day" can I cram within a day? Perhaps it's not the amount of waking hours that matters most. It is the quality of those hours which is important.

Now I have to seriously ask myself: What do I do with those precious hours? Where does my day go?

AK mentioned her nephew learned the Peanut Butter Jelly Time song. As she left for the day, I youtubed it so I could show her the Family Guy version.

We laughed out loud.

I started to do the song and dance. Our Chairman, the Head Honcho, walks by. I thought it prudent to stop dancing at that point. He didn't say anything. AK was laughing in her head so hard I could hear it.

I've got Shakespeare in the brain.

For the past week I've been reciting Hamlet's soliloquy at odd times (work, bus, lunch). Which got me reciting other monologues. Which got me thinking: I need new to learn new monologues. Which got me researching other monologues. Which led me to Molière.

The whole monologue got to me cerebrally and the last line knocked me over:

"When I consider the fate of these famous rivals, I feel myself already condemned, and in her contempt for them I read my own sentence."

He was going to tell him he loves her even though it meant her disdain and a badly broken heart. There's a lesson in that. Such a shame I didn't learn it three weeks ago.

I'm trying to relive last night's most vivid dream.

JJ and I are in class, in high school, and I want to ask her out. A little bit of clarification here for those who don't know: JJ and I didn't go to the same high school. There we were any way, listening to Miss Gagliano explain the very easy "puzzle" from a book about Shakespeare. I can't remember the title, but it was an orange book.

We talk as the teacher goes on. Eventually the class ends and we walk to the first floor annex and talk on the way to her locker. She opens it, I lean close. I remember taking her hand and saying, "I miss you." I meant it with all my heart. I put my hand gently on her face, caress it slightly and slowly brush away the hair hiding her eyes.

As my dreams often do, the scene jumps to outside. We're still talking, she's still beautiful. That's all I remember.

I miss her.

In the dream, I never did ask her out.

AK: (singing) ~FC & DS!~
DS: Yeah tell everyone. It'll help my reputation. It won't do anything for hers.

MA: Who keeps bringing food here?
MA: There's so much food here all the time.
LD: Yeah!

Today we had brownies. Everyone who tasted them said weren't very good. The person who brought them in got them from All the Best Foods. They usually have good stuff there, so I was surprised at their apparent (I didn't sample) crappiness.

She brought them because has a shower this weekend and needed guinea pigs. Her coworkers. The brownies were so bad, BG volunteered me to bake better ones. I have to admit that once I heard she had a shower to organize and needed baked goods, I immediately wondered if I had the time to help. It was my first thought. I put the thought behind me, opting to wait for her to ask. Can't help those who don't want it, I always say.

When BG volunteered me, I was ready to help.

Me: How many people? When is the party? Where do you live?
Me thinks.
Me: You can pick it up from my house Saturday morning.

All that thinking went to waste. She was too nice to ever ask me.

So what's the lesson in this story? Never volunteer for anything. Just kidding.

You can't help those who don't want it.