wear those poppies with pride

Lung

Lung asks Claire, “How many people have you slept with?” and suddenly we’re all counting on fingers, measuring numbers, months, morality. I’m there to pick up a copy of the Senior’s Living Magazine that Lung and I have an article in – my first bit of glossy-paper local hard-copy. Vancouver’s 50+ Active Lifestyle magazine. There’s a steel haired woman jogging on the cover, sunglasses, IRONMAN t-shirt, and yellow text declaring someone’s else “Artist. Author. Actor.”. It looks very much like the sort of thing you might find for free between the pages of a community newspaper. We’re on page 30, messily rambling about Lung’s travels.

Though it’s interesting to see my name in print, especially with his, reading it over is a little painful. Lung gave me a rough draft so dirty certain passages were completely incoherent and I only spent about an hour cleaning it up before we sent it in and went for dinner. Flipping through to the other articles, however, I found we fit right in. Absolutely everyone in the entire magazine abuses punctuation and laughs vindictively at grammar. “You, have to Love It” kind of stuff. It makes for easy reading, if odd, as if the writers of Dick and Jane had copy-edited every page. It’s almost soothing, which, it occurs to me, might be the point.

25 unexpectedly useful websites

100 ways to save the environment

110 resources for creative minds.

As of today, I have a new roommate for December. Her name is Karen, we don’t know each other particularly well, but she seems like an incredibly nice young woman. (We went to highschool together. Bizarre, that). Very much one of us, she goes to BarCamps, SFU, and has a passion for engineering transit. She’s even got a livejournal. Vancouver’s rental situation has moved past ridiculous into outright obscene, so it’s a relief to have found someone without having to resort to the vague social terror that is Craigslist For Rent ad.

Another thing checked off the list today – finding a place to stay in Calgary the first week of December. Sean, (yes, someone else with an lj), a comp-sci, pure math guy that Dominique and Rowan introduced me to a few years ago, has volunteered his spare room! Yes! An exclamation mark! Somehow, in spite of the mini-catastrophes plaguing this trip, things are coming together. Now to find a way to get there. Pity there’s no easy way to put a transmission back into a van…

The Psych Saga continues…

Latest update says our roommate isn’t coming out. They’re going to be shipping him straight to another institution, down in the states. Likelyhood says we’ll have to pack his stuff for him and either some of his family will come up from Vancouver, Washington, and pick it up, or we’ll be given monies to ship it down to them.
Going upstairs the other day found a small bag full of marijuana, which we confiscated, (nurses say it could be a trigger), and an air pistol, which we are also holding for in case he comes back. The other found was writing. There’s messed up little quotes all over the walls, including the crazy persons preriquisite end-of-the-world bible quotes. The scribbles on the back of his door are creepy and mostly illegible. I’m going to take pictures, and then I suppose I’ll have to paint.