Short blogging vacation.

I'll be quiet until January 3rd, or maybe later.

Well, Christmas is coming and I thought that I should announce what gifts I am giving to all of you who read this blog, even the ones who are too shy to comment. I will be making a donation in your name to the Human Fund. Happy Festivus.

Technorati tags: Christmas, Human Fund

One day, the Noriega look-alike gave me roses. I think we were coming back from some horrible fast food joint, like Subway. He stopped at a street vendor selling flowers out of large white buckets. You know these people: they get dropped off in the morning, almost thrown out of the back of a white van in strange and no-so-strange places. I didn't know who Little Noriega was buying roses for, but then it all became clear. He turned, a smile coming into to pock-marked face, handed them to me, and then ran away. Seriously. It was almost a sprint. He said something like: "don't say anything."

There I was, standing downtown with a dozen roses given to me by a man who thought that I was his boyfriend (despite the fact that I was clearly interested in women). Anyway, I took the flowers back to my office where a co-worker said: "oh, those need water." He busied himself getting a vase and arranging the flowers. It occurred to me that perhaps he needed the boyfriend.

The next day, Noriega came by and read to me a personal ad had been planning to submit to a paper. He claimed that there was no longer any need, since he had met me. I corrected him and told him that he had jumped to conclusions. In fact, I wrote it down, since I wanted something on paper, given that we worked for the same employer. I worried that he would stalk me. He did show up a few times, but he finally got the picture. The worst part was really enduring Water World on the big screen. The rest was simply an irritation.

Technorati tags: relationships

$5 Coffee, Manuel Noriega look-alike, and Kevin Costner....

I am trying to remember when I capitulated, just when it was that I decided that spending $5 on coffee was OK. Yesterday's trip to Starbucks, which happens very infrequently, mind you, amounted to $5.12 for a grande-decaf-soy-no-whip-cafe mocha (laugh if you must). Back in the day, when I consumed caffeine, cow's milk, and gluten, I could get a coffee and a muffin for far less than that price. Yikes. It's a good thing I am not addicted.

Bizarrely, this reminds me of an incident from several years back, wherein a man made the moves on me. I'm not gay (not that there's anything wrong with that). Even if I was, the guy looked far too much like Manuel Noriega for my comfort. Before I knew what was happening, we had been to see Water World. I can't really say why I agreed to go. I put it down to my generally congenial nature. The movie sucked, but I am sure you all know that. Why is Kevin Costner permitted to make anymore movies. I mean, why do they give this man money? Quite honestly, I think I could make a better movie than Mr. Costner.

By the way, the Manuel Noriega look-alike then laid a huge guilt trip on me (after I clarified things), claiming that he was in love with me. He told me that he increased his anti-depressant intake and that he would surely fail an upcoming medial licensing exam.

Recently, I have begun to wonder if my choice of profession has caused people to make assumptions about me. I am not gay, but I am thin and neat. I have lots of gay friends. My father is gay (no, not really).

See: part two of this saga.

Technorati tags: Starbucks, movies, Kevin Costner, relationships

Wait, I did see one movie recently, on the tele. It was the abysmal About a Boy, starring Hugh Grant. I decided to watch it because I had read the book. I read About a Boy after reading High Fidelity, which was ok, but the movie didn't impress me much. Why John Cusack? He has a mouth like a black hole. His default expression is an "o" shaped mouth, if you know what I mean. He looks mentally challenged, in other words. And people think he is attractive?

I have to admit that I don't mind Hugh Grant too much, although I don't think he is good looking by any means, especially in About a Boy. His hair, in that movie, is far too pugnacious. Anyway, he always plays the same character, which works somehow. I laughed through the fist half of Notting Hill, but the remainder was lame. Who would fall in love with Julia Roberts; she has a mouth like a two-car garage (if you don't believe me, read this).

The boy cast to play Marcus in About a Boy was well-chosen. Somehow, they managed to find a kid with a face like a jack-o-lantern.

Technorati tags: movies, Hugh Grant, John Cusack, Julia Roberts

Sleep!

Finally, we have justification for sleeping-in. Two studies have reported that people who do not get enough sleep tend to eat more. Finally, we have a diet based on sleep. This explains my slim body type. Now, we just need confirmation that sex keeps one's weight down.

Technorati tags: sleep

Suddenly, the Rolex spam has become Movado, Dior, and Roger Dubuis spam. Oddly, the sig line of the guy who sent one message identifies himself as "rat-catcher." I think he is the rat. At least these messages are not profane, like others I have received recently. I can't even include the subject lines here without offending someone or making others blush.

I have been neglecting this blog recently. It seems like so much work just to login.

I haven't seen any movies recently. I am half way through Some Great Thing by Colin McAdam. It's OK, but it's not as good as some of the reviews would have you believe. I no longer trust reviews, although I have to say that the review of Eleanor Rigby (by Douglas Coupland) in the Star recently was right on. This link to the review will probably expire soon.

You can tell that this is a slow news day. Oh, today is National Cotton Candy Day, but I am not sure which nation it applies to. I'm just waiting for the National Chocolate Covered Anything Day.

Technorati tags: spam, reading, Colin McAdam, Douglas Coupland

It's been a sad week. The tragic stabbing incident has been hard to take because we knew these people. I can't really write more than that today.