mercoledì, agosto 31, 2011

Fucking mosquitoes

There is a reason that I used to work 50 hour weeks and that I only work half that now. Actually there are two reasons, and one of them is that there was indeed a time I was juggling 2.5 jobs soon after M disappeared, but another, and I think more important reason, is that when you work in an office and people are making you fucking wait and wait and wait, the wait is work. I still spend a lot of time waiting for other people to finally shit out some sort of product or service now; enough to make me pretty pissy. But now that I work at home (or as is the case presently out bush, or from Luke Duke's house next week, etc.), I can organize things so that the wait really is work - the wait is when I work. Fuck, I sound like one of those "How To Have A Life That Doesn't Suck Even When You're a Wage Slave Trying to Buy Back Your Freedom From Your Mortgage Company" book. But there you are.

Still lovely out here, though a spot of rain brought out all the fucking mosquitoes. I fucking hate mosquitoes, but luckily the sheer fucking quantity of mosquitoes in that first hole of a "house" where we lived down by the river in L--- is giving me some perspective.  Mosquitoes in northern Ontario are ratbastards, but at least they're not fucking legion like they are in the subtropics. I'm curious to see how the new house is gonna be for the little fucks this summer, which will be almost underway by the time I get back. My guess is it'll be fine because of all the ceiling fans. I hope so. Since our days in Australia are numbered (even if it's a pretty high number) I really want to whole-heartedly embrace and enjoy the good climate, even if the mosquitoes are also embracing and enjoying it, the little bloody turds.

Speaking of which, have I ever showed you this? It really needs to be heard in its entirety and I agree almost completely

martedì, agosto 30, 2011

Running out bush

What a good little while it's been, starting on Friday with (I think - marks aren't out yet) killing at my Mandarin exam. Trying desperately to cram all the shit I'd forgot in Vancouver and the shit I hadn't learnt yet produced a series of declics and in the end went beyond cramming into breakthrough territory. One must be calm; language learning is an unlimited series of breakthroughs after frustrating plateaus, each making the proceeding stage look like absolute retardation. But a couple more months like this, and I'll start putting " Elementary knowledge of Standard Chinese" on my resume, and I don't have the balls to lie on my resume.

Then the Windsong festival on Saturday, which was very nice. It's hard to believe the format isn't more popular since it seemed pretty good for the musicians and the organizer involved, in financial terms. However, it wouldn't have been spectacular for the organizer in financial terms - no selling places to vendors - and I think I have the answer to why the format isn't popular right there. I think the organizer turned a profit, but probably not one enough for someone whose heart wasn't deeply into what he was doing to feel compensated for the man hours. People bandy around terms like "commitment" and "doing what you love" a lot, but do they? Do they fuck. Anyways, even someone like me who isn't nuts about folk music could really love on a festival like that.

Since then we've been out bush, while Mum is at bandcamp and I work and prepare for second year Mandarin, which starts tomorrow morning at 5 fucking am. Melbine and her family joined us for too short a time, and gosh it was nice to see her. God, she's such a good mum. And those kids are terrific. Clever and adorable or, to be all standard Chinese about it, 很可爱, 也很聪明。It was so nice to get a chance to get to know them and (since if I didn't write something about running, this wouldn't be the Dread Pirate Jessica's blog as it is these days) so nice to spend time with Melbine after so long, including a nice little run around the park while her patient husband was patient.

Now that I think about it, she's actually only the second person I've run with, after the F-word. I'd been planning to run with my double cousin and her new man the other day, but when they were late coming by the cabin I went on my own, in some relief because her new man (who is in his 50s but chiselled like a fucking Greek statue - my doublecousin may be the closest thing I've got to a sister but oh yes, I've looked, and come on, I haven't got laid in almost a month now, so I won't accept judgement for the way I'm turning into a human-sized wet spot) was some sort of Olympic runner and would have gone too fast. Melbine is not an Olympic runner, though pushing out three kids is probably more of a workout than that, but she still had to slow down for me. Anyways, it was terrific to have the catch-up, both in and out of breath.