NPDemers.net

For the Culture Crawl this year, I decided to do things a little differently. Instead of visiting just two buildings, I’d try to wander around, hit as many studios as I could and get a broader feel of the whole festival.

Boy, I hadn’t been to the Parade of Lost Souls in years! Sorry to say, I almost forgot about it. But no more!

Following up on my last post: after two weeks, my scrapes and bruises are healing nicely. Some deep bruising in my side and lower back is still bothering me, though only in the morning when I get up. And even then, I only go “Ow!” instead of “OWOWOW MOTHERF***** OW!” like I used to do for a few days after the accident. So it’s all good.

So this weekend some friends and I went up to Whistler for an ATV guided tour. I’d never gone ATVing before, but it sounded like fun, right? Broaden my horizons, that’s what I say. It worked pretty well with the zip-lining.

…literally. Or I was until Sunday night.

On Monday morning, the power went out in part of Gastown and downtown. Specifically, the part where my work was. Surprise holiday! I spent it walking around a bit, running some errands, and going to the Art Gallery. There was an exhibit on comics, anime and cartoons which… but more about that later.

Today the power was still out. So, I called up my friend Sandra (who had the summer off, being a teacher) and we hung out for the day.

So, funny story. Shortly after writing this post, I emailed the board chair, asking that a site redesign be put on next meeting’s agenda. He totally agreed, and in fact had already been planning to discuss the website (which I now feel I can name). They were going to redesign it last year, but the guy who volunteered got too busy. Which means I’m not stepping on anybody’s toes, so bonus there.

I’ve got a dilemma. Well, it’s not really a dilemma, more me working up the nerve to do something.

It was kind of a last-minute thing, really. A ferry queen (yes, you read that right) friend of mine wanted to take one last trip on the Queen of Tsawwassen, which was due to retire at the end of the summer. Would I like to go on a day trip to Galiano island? Sure!

This has been an interesting week and a half.

So for a while now, I’ve I’ve been thinking about moving downtown from the wilds of Port Coquitlam. I bought this condo almost six years ago; friends were buying into the building, they took me along one time and I totally fell in love with the show suite. I had money saved up and liked the idea of owning my own place, so I bought.

This has been a pretty interesting weekend. On Leap Friday I almost went skiing. A couple of friends and I had planned it in advance, but the weather turned out to be too warm. It was raining in the city, and even on top of Seymour it wasn’t much more than heavy, wet snow. But that was nothing compared to the killer fog. Seriously, the drive up (and back down) was harrowing; without those little reflector thingies in the middle of the road, I’m sure we would have either crashed or plunged to our deaths a dozen times.

…of the year, that is.

Okay, it’s been almost a month. What have I been up to, you ask?

Well, I spent 10 days in Ottawa and Montreal, visiting family. I saw Mamma Mia! at the National Arts Centre, which was awesome. Yeah, it was a pretty threadbare plot, little more than an excuse to string together two dozen ABBA songs, but that’s exactly what I signed up for, so that’s all right.

iPod charged? Check. Seriously West Coast downloaded? Check. Camera charged? Check. Cell phone charged? Check. Chargers for all aforementioned gadgets? Check. Ticket confirmation? Check. Yep, it’s time to fly out to Ottawa to reconnect with the family.

Last Friday I went to the Eastside Culture Crawl. And I haven’t blogged about it not because I didn’t enjoy it or it didn’t make an impression me, but because I just didn’t know what to say. It’s… art. I don’t know much about art. Like the saying goes, “Talking about music is like dancing about architecture.” And I feel the same applies here. Still, let’s give it a go.

Sunday was quite a full day of volleyball. A reffing clinic around noon, then dropping in to Intermediate 1 (I figured I’d have a good shot, since lots of people would be away for the long weekend), then my usual Intermediate 2 play. There was also a beginner reffing clinic between I1 and I2; I’d already taken it, so it gave me a chance to go grab a bite to eat.

Boo on me. Working so hard on my blog & gallery redesign that I totally forgot to write about Thanksgiving. And it was pretty special, since I spent it in Whistler with a few close friends. Just one day (Sunday afternoon to Monday afternoon), but it was a hell of a day.

(Arrr!)

Well, I’m blogging from home, but still. It hit me tonight, with a dazzling clarity, as I grabbed a bite just before catching the last Trainbus: if I lived downtown I wouldn’t have to commute way out (okay, not way way out, I know) to the boonies, on top of an exhausting day at work.

It was the August long weekend so you know what that means? The Vancouver Pride parade. The sun was shining, the rainbow balloons were floating, the leather queens were buff and be-harnessed. The idea this year was to have a moving game: a few players would bump the ball around while two held up the net, and a few more would run around giving out free junk to the crowds.

I haven’t been working much on my site lately. A few weeks ago, a friend of mine asked me to set up a Myspace page for his Blues band. He doesn’t know HTML but I do, and I was happy to help, but damn that was a painful experience.

We had our end-of-year volleyball tournament yesterday. My team won first place, which surprised the hell out of me. I haven’t won first place at anything in a while, and it was a very/ even game: with only a couple of exceptions, all our matches were won or lost by a handful of points.

Hey, that was interesting.

I took the SkyTrain into Surrey today, which means going over the Fraser River. And I always got kind of twitchy doing that because I’m afraid of heights, and there’s nothing like guard rails on that bridge. It was just too easy to imagine myself (and all the other commuters) falling down, down, down into the water and then sinking down, down, down to the bottom of the river. I’m not really sure how deep it is, but the point is: down.

16:59. I sit on the train, looking out at the water and the mountains. As we come up to Second Narrows, I see dozens of crows flying about and perching on the trees. Yep, it’s that time of day. Hi, guys. Long time no see.

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.

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.

As you might have heard, we’ve got a lot of snow here.

Of course, “a lot of snow” for Vancouver is not a lot for, let’s say, my home town of Ottawa. But it’s thick and soft and has fucked up traffic and power lines, and even though the weather’s warmed up some now, it’ll be hanging around for a while. There was a bit of snow on Saturday, in the higher places, but it’s been coming down hard between Saturday night and Wednesday, with just a few breaks.

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).

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.

…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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I confess, I’d never been to a creation/evolution debate before. Oh, I read up on a few big ones, and of course I’ve done my share of arguing on the Net. And I did attend a talk, way back when, at Ottawa U, on scientific evidence of design in nature pointing to the Biblical God. I was probably still going to church at the time, and had never read any creationist literature before, but I could already tell this twisting of science, logic and Scripture, was pure crap.

Last weekend some friends and I went up to Whistler for a bit of zip-lining. Being afraid of heights I was pretty nervous, but it turned out to be one of the most amazing thrills of my whole life. I got to soar high above Fitzsimmons Creek with the wind and fog in my face, surrounded by the beautiful mountain scenery of BC.

Taking a brief break from Web development, with the coding and the styling and the restructuring, to write a quick entry. (A month between entries is not good. At least I’ve got a good excuse this time.)

So anyway, last Saturday I went to Davie Days, a street festival sort of thing where the businesses (queer and otherwise) along Davie Street all have booths displaying their stuff; there were a couple of beer gardens, a guy making balloon hats for the kiddies (of all ages) and a couple of stages for entertainment.

Hey, that was fun.

Here’s the thing: I hadn’t been to the Pride parade in six years. I swore off in ’99 because I was disgusted at how commercial and corporatized the whole thing was, with the huge floats for the bars or mainstream sponsors (Air Canada, CIBC, Royal Bank, VanCity… come to think of it, is there a single major bank who’s not hot for gay money these days?), with less and less visibility for community or political organizations.

Every year around this time, it hits me: the nagging urge to write and post something for the anniversary of my coming out. I’m not sure what to write about, exactly: something deep and meaningful where I’d explore issues politics or identity, or just how I’ve changed and grown in the time since coming out.

Last night I was over at a friend’s house (we’ll call her “S”) for dinner. At some point (I forget how) the conversation wandered over to Edgar Cayce. S told a brief story in which Cayce was about to enter a crowded elevator but, seeing that all the occupants’ auras were dead or dim or something, decided to wait for the next one. The story concludes with the elevator falling, and everyone inside dying horribly. But Cayce was safe, ’cos of his second sight.

’m flying back to Ottawa tomorrow, to hang with the family over the holidays. Frankly, I’m a bit torn about it. On the one hand, it’ll be good to see everyone, since I usually only fly home once a year (plus exceptional events like weddings, etc…), and I do love me a white Christmas. On the other hand, living on the West Coast for eight years has turned me into a huge wimp, and I can’t take Ottawa winters anymore. So, I guess I’ll be doing what I do every year: stay indoors as much as possible, get cozy with space heaters, and admire all that beautiful snow from where it’s warm. And if I have to venture outside, bundle the hell up.

So I’m driving to work this morning, grooving to La bottine souriante, when a car pulls up next to me at a red light. I don’t really pay attention, until I see the guy in the front passenger’s side pulling down his window, specifically trying to get my attention. What the hell? Do I know him? A quick memory scan turns up negative. Has he spotted my rainbow flag bumper sticker and now wants to cruise me? He’s cute, young, with a nice smile and dark spiky hair… and wearing a huge-ass, gaudy gold crucifix, which he’s holding up with a hand graced by an equally huge-ass, equally gaudy gold ring. Get down with your gangsta self, white boy!

I’ve lived in Vancouver for over eight years, having moved here from Ottawa—where I was born and spent all my life—and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. In fact, I believe moving out here was the best thing that happened to me since I came out of the close twelve years ago. I’ve changed a lot in that time and, looking back, I feel very far away from Ottawa, and the me who lived there.

It happened in late May of 1992 and became official on May 28^th, the day I started my diary to come out to myself on paper; I was seven weeks away from my 21^st birthday, having just finished my first undergrad degree. Suddenly, without warning, denial took a permanent holiday and I accepted the simple truth: I was gay. Had been all along.