Personal – Page 8 – Nicolas Demers

Getting a little too close to nature

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.

I didn’t mind that the weekend turned out cold and rainy. I had the right gear, and they provided extra stuff like waterproof pants and goggles (for the mud). Was a little shaky on the controls, but with help from the hot French-Canadian guide, I was getting the hang of it. Turns were still a bit tricky, but I enjoyed the feel of cold mud and rain on me, and the loud, throbbing engine between my legs. Heh.

Then, halfway up the mountain, I lost control of my ATV and drove off the road.

The next few seconds were kind of a blur, to be honest. There was tumbling… and noise… and then I was looking up at the sky, rain in my face, and people were calling my name, asking if I was okay. Was I okay? My right wrist hurt like a bitch, various other body parts were sending damage reports, but nothing critical. I answered (hey, my voice was okay) and the guide yelled at me not to move. Check, not moving.

Looking around, I was about ten feet below the road. Oh, and there was the ATV, upside down and facing backward. Huh. Good thing I’d bailed out like the guides said to do if we lost control, otherwise I’d probably be posting this through a Ouija board.

So the hot French-Canadian guide came down and checked me out. No, not that way, you pervs. Neck was fine, back was fine, yes I could move my toes. Nothing seemed broken except maybe my wrist. My vision was getting cloudy, which in a way was kind of cool: just that morning we’d watched “Enzo the Smart” (you know, the ReBoot episode where everything turns 8-bit?) And it was just like that, all in shades of blue and green. Mind you, in a way it wasn’t so cool, because I was afraid I’d pass out or my brain got bonked even through my helmet.

My left shoulder, side and leg, and lower back muscles were seriously sore, but with a bit of help I walked back up to the road. They say any accident you can walk away from is a good one, right? So we waited for the van to take me down to the health centre. Sandra offered to stay with me, but I told her she didn’t have to do that. I felt (mostly) fine, and also guilty of ruining my friends’ good time with my carelessness.

At one point my vision got seriously worse, and I had to sit down. Don’t know why I’d kept standing that whole time—maybe to prove I was really okay? But as soon as I sat, my head cleared and I could see again. I guess it was just shock, my brain was okay after all.

On the way back to town, we saw a black bear by the side of the road, so Todd the hunky guide (seriously, where do they find these guys?) stopped so I could take a picture.

It was a healthy specimen, said Todd, with a good thick coat. A bit later, we saw a cub by itself. No pictures, sorry.

At the health centre (warm at last!) my wrist hurt too much, so I had to have the nurse help me take my pants off. What a revoltin’ development this was!

Okay, so, final verdict: ribs, not broken. Wrist, either a sprain or a scaphoid fracture. Apparently they’re hard to diagnose even with X-rays, so I’m wearing a splint for now. Which… is taking a bit of adjusting, and that’s putting it mildly. Not to complain, lucky to be alive and all that, but going without my dominant hand is a huge pain in the ass. See, I typed that “in ht eass” at first. Even dressing myself one-and-a-half-handed is fucking hard, and I may have to keep doing it for 2 months or more. Bleah. Well, this too shall pass, and I’ve learned my lesson: no more Xtreme sportz for this little lame duck

This is the scariest trailer I’ve ever seen

So first Matt Damon said this:

It’s like a really bad Disney movie. The Hockey Mom. “Oh, I’m just a hockey mom from Alaska,” and she’s facing down Vladimir Putin using the folksy stuff she learned at the hockey rink. It’s absurd. It’s totally absurd, and I don’t understand why more people aren’t talking about how absurd it is. […] I need to know if she really thinks dinosaurs were here 4,000 years ago.

So first Matt Damon said this:

It’s like a really bad Disney movie. The Hockey Mom. “Oh, I’m just a hockey mom from Alaska,” and she’s facing down Vladimir Putin using the folksy stuff she learned at the hockey rink. It’s absurd. It’s totally absurd, and I don’t understand why more people aren’t talking about how absurd it is. […] I need to know if she really thinks dinosaurs were here 4,000 years ago.

And then some twisted genius actually went ahead and made that movie (okay, just the trailer).

Memo to Matt: what we’ve learned for sure about Palin in the last 2 weeks is that even aside from the rabidly anti-abortion stance and book burning and ethics scandals, she’s stunningly ignorant and unfit for the vice-presidency. That under a veneer of folksy charm she’s a mean bitch of a woman—though hey, she fits in well with Gramps McCranky there. And her base does appreciate it.

And if McCain does not tone down the contempt, it will simply feed the narrative. Or, if we are really lucky, as someone suggested in another thread, McCain will overcompensate and spend the entire time comically and creepily attempting to make eye contact with Obama (think Al Gore walking across the stage to stand next to Bush, and Bush looking at him as if to think â€œWTF are you doing?â€).

This should be terrifying for the McCain campaign for two reasons. First, the base will not understand it. To them, a sneering, contemptuous jerk is a feature, not a bug. When they try to tone down McCain, it will turn off the diehards. Look at the reaction of the base to Palinâ€™s RNC speech- they LOVED that she was, for all intents and purposes, nothing but an asshole the entire speech. They loved the â€œzingersâ€ that were written for her. The rest of the country recoiled in horror, and Obama raised ten million the next 48 hours.

(Emphasis mine, and it’s my favourite line)

I am full of hot air

…literally. Or I was until Sunday night.

See, while playing volleyball on Sunday afternoon, I inadvertently demonstrated a basic principle of Physics: gases will expand when heated. Here’s how I set up the experiment: a week before, my arms got pretty sunburned because I forgot to put sunscreen on them. By last weekend they were healing, and ready to peel. This time I made sure to put on sunscreen but pretty soon I noticed tons of little blisters on the burned areas. It actually looked pretty cool, a microscopic landscape of itty-bitty bubbly hills and mountain ranges. My theory is that tiny air pockets, trapped under the loosening skin and sunscreen, just started expanding. These blisters didn’t hurt, and disappeared soon after I got out of the sun leaving only whiter spots of dead skin.

And now my arms are peeling with a vengeance. I should probably stop picking at it, but I love the barely audible crinkly sound peeling skin makes when I pull it off. It’s… soothing.

Yeah, I think I need help.

For my birthday, I got a power outage

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.

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. In the morning we drove all the way down to Crescent Beach in Surrey and checked out the beautiful scenery, including wildlife I’d never seen before around Vancouver.

Then we went to see Kung Fu Panda, which was hella fun. Then a spot of Guitar Hero (Aerosmith edition). Not a bad birthday.

Carpe Crisitunitatem

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

See, I’ve just joined the executive board of this organisation (which shall remain nameless right now, but I’ve been a member for several years), and I’m thinking of offering my services to redesign their website. The look & feel is kind of flat and dated (IMO), I’ve got issues with some aspects of the structure and navigation scheme, and there are various little details that need work. Now, it’s not a big site, but it does get a fair amount of exposure. So part of me’s asking, Am I being presumptuous here? How much do I really know about Web design? Sure, I read a lot of designers’ blogs, but I’ve got exactly two sites under my belt: this one right here, plus another one for an online RPG I’m no longer a part of, that I redid maybe six years ago. That’s it. Just two. Not a great portfolio. A lot of people will be judging this, and judging me on it. Am I really up for this challenge?

Stupid insecurities. The answer, in case you’re wondering, is: yes. Yes, I feel up to this challenge. I think I’m right to propose it, and I think I’d do a good job. Besides, if I don’t give it a shot, I’ll always be wondering “what if.” So there you go.

(The title, incidentally, is pseudo-Latin for “Seize the crisitunity”—which, as Homer Simpson has taught us, is the Chinese word that means both “crisis” and “opportunity.”)

Galiano Island

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! I’d never been on any of the Gulf Islands, only looking at them from the ferry on my way to Victoria. I wasn’t sure what the weather would be like, since the reports said it might rain, but what the hell. You only live once. As it turned out, the day was absolutely gorgeous. Clouds started rolling in in late in the afternoon, but it never rained and the weather cooled down only a little bit.

Galiano was neat, though. Not quite what expected, though. I’d assumed there’d be some kind of small village around the ferry terminal, but all I saw were a couple of roadside stands and a small cluster of shops. Oh, including one very friendly diner that served delicious salmon burgers. Grand Central Emporium, if you’re ever in the area. You can’t miss it, I think it’s the only eatery around.

Actually, I should count my blessings. From what I hear, some islands don’t have anything near the ferry terminal. You have to drive or walk for miles before you reach civilisation. Come to think of it, that includes Vancouver Island as well.

We didn’t have any plans or vehicles, only an afternoon to kill, so we just wandered around. Our first destination was Bellhouse Park, facing Mayne Island to the east, where we snapped pictures of Active Pass, Bald Eagles, tide pools teeming with life, and some funky-looking rock formations. Then north up Sturdies Bay Road towards Whaler Bay and… whatever else the island had to offer. But aside from some great views and pleasant backwoods hiking, that turned out to be “not much.” Almost all the seaside land was privately owned, so we couldn’t just walk up to the shore to snap pictures, and the real attractions were on the other side of the island—Montague Harbour, say, or hiking up Mount Galiano.

But that’s okay. I had a great time, and a little taste of what the islands have to offer. I’m sure I’ll be back soon.

I signed the lease!

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 an interesting week and a half.

So for a while now, 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. The downsides of living in the burbs—needing a car to get anywhere, dick-all to do, and everything so far from everything else—didn’t bother me so much. Until a couple of years ago I worked on Burnaby Mountain, then in East Van, and my downtown social life was… poor. So I was content enough in my PoCoCondo.

Stuff happened, as stuff often does, and I was forced to reconsider a lot of my choices. Not that I regret buying a condo (it’s a terrific investment) but the reality of living in the boonies is beginning to wear on me. After being (metaphorically) kicked in the pants several times in the last few months, I finally began to take serious steps towards moving. Last Monday I met with a property manager that would handle the rental of my condo. Then, after figuring out my price range I started pounding the pavement. Let me tell you, there’s nothing quite like schlepping up and down the West End (and between the West End and Gastown, ‘cos I was still at work) when you’re fighting a cold. But I wanted to finish this as soon as possible, otherwise I was afraid I’d just keep coming up with excuses to put it off. So I checked out six places in the span of two grueling days, but it all paid off because I found an excellent apartment. It’s on a relatively quiet street, just two block from Sunset Beach and two blocks from the heart of Davie Village, fairly spacious for a downtown 1-bedroom, and very reasonably priced. Score!

Hell, I may end up saving money on this venture, especially since I can just walk to work (about half an hour either way, I timed it). Plus I’ll have more time to cook for myself, which means more savings. But of course, the goal is not to save money. The goal is to not be so damn isolated so much of the time. Downtown is where I need to be right now.

First post!

…of the year, that is.

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

…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. I visited my brother for New Year’s, as per tradition. I was actually there for a couple of days, and had the chance to explore the city a bit. With a borrowed Metro pass (thanks, Laurie!) I first swung by Île-Sainte-Hélène, then wandered around downtown snapping pictures of churches and interesting buildings. Unfortunately, this being New Year’s Eve, a lot of places were closed. Now I won’t get to see if the Museum of Contemporary Art would have been worth the detour. Boo. On the bright side, I learned something about French-Canadian martyrs.

Oh, and I finished Les Misérables. Yeah, it only took me… what, nine months? But it was worth the effort. To be honest, I’m still in the process of digesting it. I think what I loved best about it was how it made history come alive. All I remember from studying the early 19th century in school is a bunch of dates: Napoleon, Waterloo, Louis XVIII, Charles X, this Republic, that Empire… but Hugo gives context and depth to those numbers, by going on about slang, fashion, popular culture, local history and various fascinating trivia that ties everything together. Les Misérables is the story of Paris as much as that of Jean Valjean, Cosette, Javert and Thénardier. More so, maybe; they’re the lens through which the reader experiences the revolutions and wars and proto-socialism and all the other crazy, exciting events of the era. In fact, they may be no more than symbols of different aspects of French society; the misérable who found a way out, did good, and died well (Valjean); the misérable who was irredeemably bad, kept abusing his fellow human beings in spite of numerous chances to mend his ways, and ended up settling in America to become a slave trader (Thénardier); the incarnation of Law, harsh and absolute, who couldn’t go on when faced with the truth that shades of grey existed.

Yeah. Still digesting.

And it’s a brand new year, with a brand new job. Yes, I was laid off last November. (Which, now that I think about it: it is just me, or are people more likely to be laid off after long weekends? Because I was laid off just after Remembrance Day. The time before that, after Labour Day. And before that, Thanksgiving.) And this new job is Web development, which is something I’ve been wanting to get into for a while.

2008 should be interesting. I’ve… had a lot of stuff happen to me in the last couple of years, a lot of it painful, most of it growthful. Haven’t blogged about it, ain’t gonna. But the point is, though I’m still in a period of transition, I feel that I’ve reached a turning point, and my life is finally on track. Yes, 2008 should definitely be an interesting year.

I’m leavin’ on a jet plane

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.

Gotta swing by the library to renew Les Misérables. Maybe at my parents’ place I’ll have the time to finish the fucking thing. Nah, I’m just kidding, it’s really an awesome book. Just… challenging. And long.

Heh. I’m even looking forward to the flight. Haven’t been on a plane in two years and after the last horrendous experience you’d think I’d avoid them like the plague. But (a) what choice do I have? (b) ehh, that’s in the past. Today’s a brand new day.

Enlightenment For Sale

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.

I went to that little muffin/snack place, corner of Alma and 4^th Ave, realised I didn’t have enough cash, and went looking for a bank machine. On an impulse, even though it was dark and drizzling, I decided to wander up 4^th and after a block or two came upon Banyen Books. Wow. Now there’s a name that was totally not on my mind. I’d only been there once or twice probably ten years ago, when I was still in my kinda-paganish phase. To buy a copy of the Tao Te Ching, if I recall. Wait, no, it was to buy a copy of The Complete Book of Tai Chi Chuan, as recommended by my then-teacher, and I bought the TTC on my own because Taoism appealed to me. Ah, memories! So, I couldn’t resist: since I still had some time to kill, I went in to browse.

It was just as I remembered it. I’m pretty sure it used to be in another location, so the layout was probably different, not that that mattered much. And I remember they used to have one of those little fountains, the kind that always makes me want to pee, but didn’t this weekend, thank gawd. But everything else? Exactly. The. Same. Incense, soft music, the promise of magic and revelation in every Tarot deck and $50 crystal. I wandered the shelves of books on dream analysis and cosmic science and Celtic Goddess worship and all sorts of weird esoteric topics I’d never even heard of. So many fluffy morsels for people who’ll believe anything that feels good, people hungrily seeking something they can’t even name and wouldn’t recognize if they found it.

Truth is, I could feel faint echoes of the same yearnings inside me. There was a time when I too was a seeker, sort of. After dropping Catholicism, I looked for answers or at least wisdom in mythologies both old and new to replace beliefs that hadn’t appealed to me in a long time. I didn’t put much effort into it because I never felt that the spiritualities I absorbed were really what I needed. Nowadays, of course, I tend to trust my own judgment and revel in my skepticism. I don’t need faiths, spiritualities to make me complete or hand me The Truth.

Still, I have… moments of weakness. Now, in one corner of the store (next to handsome leatherbound Books of Shadows) were a few racks of sketchpads and notepads, all with very pretty covers. I was seriously tempted to get one. I hadn’t done any drawing in a long time, and I thought it might inspire me. Or at least push me to practice regularly, cos Gawd knows I need the practice. But really, wasn’t that more magical thinking? If they’re anywhere, the talent and the potential are in myself. Not some object I shelled out $24.95 + tax for, no matter how pretty it is.

So I left without getting anything, and went back to the gym to sweat off half my body weight. On the way home I bought a pad of unlined paper at Safeway for a couple of bucks, on which I’ve been doodling since.