Inside Darren

This post was originally written on a notepad in my car this morning.

All this week, I’ve been doing my meter reading in the city of Hamilton instead of in Haldimand County, which is 90% rural. This morning, as I write this, I’m sitting in my car in downtown Hamilton, waiting for stores to open so that I can read their meters (which are mostly in their basements).

I’m bored, and a little frustrated that I have to extend my workday by just sitting in my car. However, I am presented with the opportunity to participate in one of my favourite work-related activities.

Sleeping.

Yes, one of the benefits of this job is that I work alone and free from supervision, so napping in my car can be done with impunity, as long as all of my meters are read by the end of the day. From time to time, I’ve indulged in a quick, 20-min powernap in the middle of my day, just to keep me functional and properly rested.

I have to keep in mind, however, that this is downtown Hamilton. Not that there’s any danger of being shot, but you could have to deal with the occasional homeless vagrant drooling on your window. My policy is to keep the windows up, the doors locked, and my hand near the horn, which I’ve modified to sound like someone shouting “Get away from me, weasel-face!” It’s effective while parked and on the road.

I still have a good 20 min to kill, even after having written this. Doors locked? Check! Windows up? Check! Horn functional? Check!

Nap time.

In just under a month, I’ll be moving to St. Catharines, and leaving my hometown of Hamilton Ontario, possibly forever. While I’m not necessarily upset about the move (I am, after all, moving in with a fabulously hot woman, who I’ll be married to very shortly), it does leave me in a difficult situation when it comes to employment. The difficulty of the situation is, I’ll have no job in St. Catharines.

I’ve been doing the meter reading gig for about 5 years now, both in the Hamilton area, and in Haldimand County to the south. Generally speaking, meter reading has been good to me, and part of me will miss it very much. However, the company that I work for does not have the contract to do meter reading in St. Catharines, and the company that does has no openings right now.

I only need work for June, July, and August, since I’m going to be attending full-time university in September. So, knowing that you, my readers, come from many walks of life, in multiple countries, I ask you all: What should I do for work after my wedding?

I have retail experience, but retail hours generally suck.

I have an Honours BA in Linguistics, which counts for very little in the real world.

I also have a Bible College degree, which counts for even less.

I’ve worked in the food industry, so somewhere like Tim Hortons could be an option… At least I’d get some free day-old donuts.

I can speak Italian at just-above the preschool level.

I bathe and/or shower regularly.

I have webbed toes.

If you, my loyal readership, can offer some helpful suggestions for job possibilities, or if you yourselves are in a position to offer me an opportunity for worthwhile employment, please leave a comment or send me an email. I’d hate to have to sell my Babylon 5 DVDs just to keep Larissa and I well-fed.

It’s 10:30pm, I’m sitting at the computer in my underwear, and I’m almost finished washing over a week’s worth of dirty dishes.

Yes my friends, the dishes had become unruly. They had already conquered the sink and half of the counter, and were preparing for an invasion of the surrounding floor space, and possibly the tops of kitchen appliances. The only available option was to slap on the rubber gauntlets of cleanliness, take hold of the sacred scrubber of oppression, douse it with the enchanted liquid-soap of grease-cuttery, and open a can of whoop-dish!

I cannot put into words how much I dislike the washing of dishes. I never felt this way until I found myself living in a basement apartment with only a single sink with which to wash. Until that point, I had had the use of a dishwasher, and on the rare occasions that I did dishes by hand, I would do them with another person, and make it a social activity.

Larissa, on the other hand, loves doing dishes. She likes the feeling of satisfaction that one acquires by looking at a completed task, and visibly seeing the results of your hard work. Since she works as a teacher, it’s often hard to see how your efforts pay off in students’ lives, but with dishes, the difference is evident immediately.

While I also enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that one earns by washing a crap-load of kitchenware, I feel that the annoyance of the work itself overwhelms any happiness that is experienced in finishing the task. I feel the same way, incidentally, about cutting the lawn, or shaving. Sure, the grass, and my face, both look better afterwards, but doing each monotonous, repetitive task uses up valuable time that could be spent watching movies, or re-reading the Dune novels.

For a while, Larissa and I had a fairly good dish-washing system in place. I would save up my dirty dishes for the entire week, and on the weekends when she would visit, Larissa would have the privilege of washing my dishes for me. I knew how much she enjoyed this task, and I didn’t want to deny her the fulfillment of seeing a job well-done. And just so you don’t think I was being lazy, I would contribute by putting away what had been washed and dried, and by searching out appropriate music selections that would create a fun and happy atmosphere for her dish-washing.

Lately our weekends have been so busy in taking care of last-minute wedding and moving preparations, that when we come back to my apartment, all we both want to do is relax and eat Smartfood popcorn. Thus, the dirty dishes multiply, and I am forced to tackle them myself.

I knew that the moment of crisis had arrived when I found myself saying to Larissa over the phone “I think I may skip breakfast tomorrow, because I don’t have any clean bowls for cereal, and there’s no counter space to use for buttering toast”. Larissa’s response was something along the lines of “Why don’t you wash some bowls, then?!” Point taken.

I’m happy to say that the counter is now usable, and the bowls have all been washed. However, I now realize that I’m out of cereal and bread, and it’s too late to go to the grocery store.

The crisis continues.

I know it’s been a few days since my last post. To those of you who diligently sit down at your computer every morning with a hot coffee, and perhaps a tasty Eggo waffle being warmed in the toaster, anxious to read the latest onslaught of mind-blowing insights that this website usually offers with much more regularity, I offer my abject apologies. I offer no excuses, but only a promise to deliver quality content to you with more reliability, and less non-blog-related distractions.

So, on to the insights.

Has the following situation ever happened to you? You pass a stranger on the street, making eye contact just as you reach speaking-proximity, and so you throw out a quick, casual greeting. This greeting, however, is misheard by the person you are addressing, and so they respond with an equally casual response, which has no connection to what you just said. For example:

Me: “Hey there!”

Stranger: “Good, thanks.”

This happens with almost-alarming regularity to me as I bump into people while I read meters.

The only possible interpretation of such an exchange is that, in the casual-ness of my greeting, I must have slightly mumbled my words, so that the stranger only hears two syllables which contain some vowels and an [r] sound. The stranger’s brain takes these criteria, and improperly assembles them to make my words seem to be “How’re ya?”, to which the reply “Good, thanks” is acceptable. Since the stranger and I are quickly passing by each other, and have little chance of ever having to speak again, neither of us is inclined to ask the other person what they actually said, or to correct the discrepancy. You’re just left feeling awkward.

This analysis, my friends, is what you can do with an education in Linguistics.

We did another photo shoot with Chuck yesterday. The goal was to find some nice pictures to use for wedding favours, but we took some for fun as well. It was a damp, cold Good Friday, but we ventured out around downtown Hamilton and I believe we got some good shots.

Larissa’s sister Leona is visiting for the weekend, so she joined us as well. Chuck was more than happy to take some nice shots of her too. I think the only thing that would have made him happier was if Larissa and Leona had asked him to paint their toenails.

Here are some of the photos:

People are always asking me “Darren, how are the wedding plans going?” As a mass way of communicating my answer to everyone asking, I’ve decided to post my answer here:

“Good”.

So from now on, whenever this question is asked of me, I’ll just give people the URL of my blog, and direct them to this post. That’s far less hassle.

Oh, we need a seamstress and a hairdresser, both in the Hamilton area, and both reasonably priced. As I, myself, have never had to get anything seamstress-ed, and have also never needed to have my hair “dressed”, I have no options to contribute at this time.

In other news, I have one of those circular cracks in my windshield that you get from trucks driving in front of you who throw stones at you with their back tires. I took my windshield (with my car attached to it) to Apple Auto Glass, but they told me that the crack was too big to repair. My only option is to get a new windshield. As the crack is not spreading, I think I’m just going to live with it for a while. I may even name it. How about… Travolta.

Larissa created a minor crisis this past weekend when she tried to defrost a hamburger bun while I was in the shower. What she didn’t know about my microwave was that the “defrost” button should actually be labeled “Exactly the same strength as full power”, and that in order to defrost something, you have to set the power level at 1 or 2. So the bun was transformed into a black mass of fused bread-particles, and my apartment smelled like burning. We dealt with the situation by opening windows, turning on fans, and going to McDonalds.

I’m waiting for the washer to be free so I can do my laundry. That’s why you’re getting random thoughts in this post. I don’t want to start a huge topic, and then have to interrupt my train of thought to deal with sorting my laundry into “needs hangers” and “doesn’t need hangers”, and then turn all of my shirts inside-out so that the logos aren’t damaged in the washing process. Best to do one thing at a time.

Sheep have the most human voices of any animal. Honestly, if you’ve ever heard a sheep say “Baaa”, you could very easily close your eyes and pretend it was an aging, senile, British man talking. Sometimes I do this as I’m reading meters in farm country. Then I think about how I would explain myself to someone if they asked me what I was doing standing so close to their sheep with my eyes closed. Then I quietly get in my car and drive away.

When you’re in a submarine, especially when you’re hunting another submarine, you have to be very, very quiet. If you make loud noises, the water carries these noises with amazing accuracy to the listening ears of those aboard nearby seafaring vessels, and next thing you know you’re being targeted, and then you’re looking at the explode-y end of a torpedo coming through your hull. That’s why it’s important to have a reliable cure for hiccups.

Laundry time.

There is a revolution which is sweeping the world of submarine sandwiches. In fact, the revolution began a few years ago, but it is only now achieving full mastery of this corner of the universe. The name of that revolution is Quiznos.

Often times on a Friday night, when neither Larissa nor I feel inclined to cook dinner, we’ll stop at the Quiznos at the end of my street for a fast bite before heading off to our evening plans. A large sub combo, split between the two of us, is usually the perfect amount of food. But that’s not where the perfection stops - oh no my friends, not by a long shot.

Quiznos’ Chicken Carbonara sub is, in my opinion, the pinnacle of the evolution of the submarine sandwich. Large chunks of white chicken meat, bacon, mozzarella cheese, mushrooms, and tangy alfredo sauce, all masterfully heated on a toasted bun. Your tongue will dance, DANCE I TELL YOU, when these sumptuous ingredients slide seductively across your taste buds.

The secret is in the toasting. And the sign that the revolution has indeed occurred is that Subway, the longtime top sub store in Canada, has started offering toasted versions of all of their subs as well. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and Quiznos is well-deserving of all of the flattery it receives.

Earlier tonight, on my way home from recording the latest edition of The Audio Edition podcast, I decided that I didn’t feel like making dinner, and since I was driving by Quiznos anyway, I stopped in for my usual slab of Chicken Carbonara paradise. However, for the first time since I started frequenting Quiznos on a regular basis, I was without the company of Larissa. Thus, I was free to order a large sub and have it all to myself, without the need to share.

My friends, the large Chicken Carbonara is a LOT of sub for one man to tackle. I was satisfied after eating the first half. I was very full after finishing 3/4. And as I stared at the last four bites-worth of sandwich, I realized that it was way too much food, and that there was a real possibility that I could vomit if I tried to put it all down. But here’s the thing - I couldn’t stop eating it. It was that good.

So I finished it, and as I waddled back to my car, I contemplated the unique experience of feeling both sick with the gluttonous intake of such a large mass of food in a single sitting, and elated with the prolonged exposure of so much good-tastedness to my taste buds. Only the best restaurants can send you home enveloped in such a paradox, and I am happy to have partaken in this experience without vomiting.

Bless you, Quiznos.

I use a free service over at hitslog.com to track statistics about this website. It gives me information about how many people are visiting, what web pages have put up links to mine, what people are typing into search engines to find my site, and the number of people from each country that load up my page.

This past week, I had the largest list of different countries visiting my site than I’ve ever seen in the past. Here’s the breakdown with the number of visitors from each country:

Canada - 96
United States - 28
United Kingdom - 7
Finland - 3
Ireland - 2
Germany - 2
Turkey - 2
France - 1
Romania - 1
Spain - 1
Denmark - 1
Poland - 1
Netherlands - 1
Hungary - 1
Belgium - 1

Amazing that someone in Belgium is looking at my site.

The other oddity came up in the list of search terms that people entered into Google which brought up my site in the results. One of the terms was “creamed corn hole”, which gave my site 2 hits. I can only assume that it brought people to this post, which contained the words “creamed corn” and “hole” (item 5 on the list in that post).

My question is: What in the world were those 2 people actually trying to find?

I’ve never considered myself a huge U2 fan. I wouldn’t pay $150 to see them in concert, and I have never made an effort to find out the latest news on what the band is up to, or when their new albums are coming out. I don’t own any of their CDs (although I have purchased a U2 song from iTunes - Bono’s duet with Mary J. Blige on the song “One”), and I’m not especially crazy about their latest batch of singles.

However, having said all that, you have to admit that this band has got “staying power” coming out the wazzo.

I say this because just today, on several radio stations, I heard at least 6 different U2 songs being played, often from albums that they released over 20 years ago. These aren’t “classic rock” stations either - These are the top 40 or New Rock stations that concentrate on new releases.

In fact, in the last 3 days, I’ve heard all of these songs listed below being played on the radio at least once, sometimes several times. I list them here with the year of each song’s original release:

1983 - New Year’s Day
1983 - Sunday Bloody Sunday
1984 - Pride (In the Name of Love)
1987 - With or Without You
1987 - I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For
1987 - Where the Streets Have No Name
1988 - Desire
1992 - One

Can you believe that U2 is still getting regular radio play for songs they released 23 years ago?! It’s not like these songs went out, and then came back in again as retro. They just never went out.

Two songs in particular (I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For & Where the Streets Have No Name) still move me emotionally almost every time I hear them. It’s like they’re hymns for the children of the 20th Century. And no matter how much modern music styles change, these two songs never seem dated.

If there is any 20th Century band that people will still be listening to 100 years from now, I don’t think it will be The Beatles. And it won’t be Elvis either. All of their music was fluffy, and when it was serious (I’m thinking of the Beatles’ later stuff here) it came across as preachy. But when U2 makes a statement, it’s poetic and poignant, with just the right amount of ambiguity to make everyone think that Bono is singing about their specific circumstance or situation.

Like I said at the beginning of this post, I’m not the biggest U2 fan in the world, but I will stand up and salute them for making music that will never be forgotten, as long as there are people in the world who still haven’t found what they’re looking for.

Do you often feel a need for physical affection, but have nowhere to find it? Do you sometimes wish you could have a nice hug, even from a stranger, but are afraid to ask? If this is you, I’ve got some good news, and some better news for you. The good news is that you’re not alone. The better news is that there is a new fad sweeping the nation which can help fulfill your need for affection in a non-threatening way.

Let me introduce you to “Cuddle Parties”.

I heard about this as I was listening to the radio at work today - There are parties being organized in almost every major city, where people can come to snuggle up with friends and/or strangers, and get a healthy dose of physical affection. There is nothing sexual about these gatherings, and there are actually Cuddle Party Lifeguards (who take a 3 day training course) to make sure that everyone in the room feels comfortable (physically and emotionally) all the time.

The idea of these gatherings, such as I understand it, is to fulfill our basic human need for affection without all of the messy stuff associated with bars or perverts. People are required to ask about offering or receiving different types of affection (hugs, cuddles, nuzzles, etc.), and are told to offer polite rejection to anything they aren’t comfortable with. In fact, before the cuddling even begins, people take some time to practice rejecting, and receiving rejection. I guess that’s a skill in and of itself.

I have to admit that I find this whole concept intriguing. I remember reading somewhere that human beings need something like 3 hugs per day just to maintain emotional health. I also remember that there were often times (back in my “single days”) that I genuinely wanted, not sexual pleasure, but simply to be hugged or cuddled by a nice girl. And women in general seem to crave cuddling in ways that men don’t (or don’t like to admit), so much so that it’s not unusual to see female friends cuddling together while watching a movie or standing outside on a cold day.

I’m not sure that I’m ready to jump into the whole Cuddle Party scene just yet, but for those of you who are interested, you can check out www.cuddleparty.com and find out all the snuggly-details for yourself. There’s a list of frequently asked questions, pictures, and even a place where you can check for cuddle parties in your area. And for those of you in Canada, there’s a Toronto contact for upcoming cuddle events.

As for me, I’m happy getting my cuddles from Larissa. Her cuddle skills are second to none.

Cuddle Party Links:
Homepage of the creator of Cuddle Parties
New York Daily News Article
Seattle Times Article
Article from a B.C. news blog
Wikipedia Entry