It's likely few if any people will read this, and that's proably a good thing. It's pretty common for me to come here when I'm pissed off. It's a good spot to rant when no one is around to listen, so here goes:
I am sick of being penalized for having goals and wanting a better life.
Lately, I've been feeling increasingly distant from a lot of my friends. My life has changed a lot in the last year, more so than any year I can remember. I've been forced (directly and indirectly) to change my priorities and focus on what is important. I'll be the first person to admit my pals have been hardest hit by my new life choices, but shouldn't real friends be able to understand that people evolve?
A lot of people are blaming or will blame Chelsea for having me "whipped". The fact that people are talking smack about her/us and don't think I know about it is laughable. I'm a big boy. I can make decisions on my own, and my decision is to be there for my family. If that means sacrificing time with my friends, so be it. The only thing more important to me than my friends is my family, and sadly I can't see that ever changing.
A quick remark between friends is what has me all up in arms. I'm not going to say what it was, because it was entirely meant without harm, but it kind of certified some underlying feelings I had been having. Those feelings being that most of my friends don't like me, or at the very least, think less of me for being around less.
I don't go drinking on weekdays anymore. I have a great job that is really important to me and I have a 7 month old who needs his daddy at his beck and call. Makes sense not to go out eh?
Oh yeah? did I mention I had two jobs for the past month and a half?
Fuuuuuuuck.
Pay day loans and throwing up at 2am on Wednesday mornings just aren`t for me anymore.

Oh me. So after slacking off as long as possible, I was due to get a job. Things are getting super tight money-wise, and at just the right time my old boss sent me a facebook message asking if I could help out on weekends. For those of you who don't know, I was previously employed at a hemp shop. They have since moved and gotten into adult supplies as well, which makes for a nice mix in clientele; Stoners and perverts. So aside from being dog tired (I haven't had a job where I had to be on my feet all day in at least 5 years), I have some news and notes about my first day back.

The majority of my shift was spent opening DVD porn and taking it out of the cases so it couldn't be stolen, then cataloging it, so it could retrieved easily when it is to be purchased. Obviously this wasn't that bad of a gig, I got to look at tits all day and make fun of bad porn star names and titles. Suffice it say there are a lot of people in the porn industry who shouldn't be.

Another thing I noticed is there are people out there who should save what brain cells they have left, and stop smoking dope. More than I few times I was asked if the glass pipes would work with "the weed". As well as few other snippets I feel y'all might enjoy.
One was of gentleman who seemed familiar, and we later determined we shared a mutual pal. I set him up with a pipe and he was on his way. About a half hour later, dude comes back, chink-eyed and giggling. he says:

"I need some Visene."
To which I reply: "Fucking right you do, you're cooked"
"Well, where is it?"
"Wait, you're here for visene? Do I look like a pharmacist? Go to superstore if you need visene."
"You mean you guys don't sell it here?"
"No."

This looked like I had just told him New Brunswick had blown up, his brain was not computing. God knows how he made out at Superstore, they probably took him down an elevator to the basement and interrogated him until he wet his pants.

Towards the end of the night, this family came in. best I could ascertain was that it was Dad with a son and daughter. The daughter was around 18-20, the son 16-18. Now these folk looked straight out of Deliverance. Inbreed, gap-toothed, and the daughter had a better stashe than I could ever grow. These folks found nothing weird in perusing our collection of sex toys together (!) and spent abut 45 in the goddamn store while we were trying to close. They would pick out a few things, I'd ring them in, then they'd look around some more and buy some more things. At one point the daughter was looking at the papers and asked what we had for flavored ones. Now this doesn't seem like and odd question, but about we have a lot of papers and about 75% are flavored, and all were right in front of her. I humored her, and then she asked if we had strawberry ones. By this point I was starting to question if she could read, because we have no less than five (5) different strawberry papers. She settled on one and eventually got the fuck out.

Suffice it say I should have a lot more blog fodder in the next few weeks. Working with the dregs of society is nothing if not entertaining.

Well, so today was our baby shower for Baby Jude. I really didn't know what to expect due to my lack of experience with said events.
It was really weird for me in that I was the only person who knew everyone there, so I had a certain duty to say hello to everyone, converse with everyone, and thank everyone. This is a tricky job to do without feeling like you've slighted a person or group of people, so kind of left there feeling like everyone was pissed off at me. Maybe I'm just to needlessly anxious about this sort of thing.
It was also a odd getting so many gifts without having anything to give people back. It kinda felt like I forgot about Christmas but everyone still got me something. You can only say thank you so much before it sounds forced, because it is. Don't get me wrong I love my friends and family and appreciate EVERYTHING, but whoa. It was just a lot to deal with.

My Mom, God love her, decided to show the birth video which was pretty boring (even for me), but Jude seemed to hold up his end of the bargain by entertaining as best he could.
That said, those of you in attendance who read this thing, thank you sooo much. It totally cemented my decision to move back here (Not that it wasn't already). Your generosity was amazing (and obviously a bit overwhelming).
Much love.

Ah, the joys of parenthood. It's currently 5:10 am and I'm unable to sleep. Not to say it's because of the boy, as he is soundly tucked in to the basinette next to me. No, this is just run of the mill insomnia. It's not even insomnia, I just prefer to be up at night. I'm debating whether to go to sleep (as I have been lately at this time) or just to tough it out and try to reset my sleep schedule. I have xbox and my son to keep me company, so why not? He just woke up and as it stands right now I'm typing with one hand, cradling him with my other arm and holding his bottle upright with my cheek. I have mastered this maneuver as well as many other parenting points that now come as second nature. The 'baby's asleep' diaper change, the one handed bottle prep, navigating onesie snaps, assembling random infant products, are now all automatic, seamless.
I just took a break to change his diaper and experenced an event where he peed, pooped, and spit up all sans diaper. Crisis averted, all handled, for I am superdad.
Now if I could only find a job.

Six to eight hours a day stuck in a vehicle driving for four consecutive days. If I had chosen a different direction I could like be somewhere in central America right now, but as it stands I'm in Sault Ste. Marie Ontario, and pretty close to the halfway point of my great Eastern migration.
The prairies were a breeze. Two and a half provinces in less than two days. Flat land, great weather, and four lane divided highways with 110 km/hr limits, just set the cruise control and wake up every half hour to make sure I'm on the road. Those are a luxury I am starting to miss.
Due to me special lady's bun in the oven, we have elected make this trip north on the 49th parallel where medical expenses are covered should the unexpected arrive. This means I have spent the last two days bushwacking through the rock, snow, and taiga of the great Canadian shield. The trans Canada running through this region is a twisting, hilly, two lane highway with a 90km/hr limit and infrequent (although regular) third lanes to pass. Combine that with the fact that Western Ontario area has been God's snowpile for the past week and motorists that seem to have no regard for others' safety (or even their own) means that I've had quite the ride so far.
It hasn't all been hair raising, most of the time it's just incredibly boring. Chelsea has her video games, books, PC, and giant pillow to nap on. All I have is predominate control of the stereo, an odometer, and my thoughts. To be honest, I pretty much had this entire post in my head from the hour and change that Chelsea slept and I had no company or music. I just continued doing the same thing I had done since the start of the trip: Watching for the TCH signs that say "East" and knowing that each one I pass brings me closer to home.

It wasn't long after smoking that joint outside that it dawned on me. Just minutes earlier I had with rolled it with extreme confidence on the toilet paper dispenser in the men's room, never visibly showing the signs of someone who had been drinking since 6pm. I turned to my com padre and announced quite astutely: "We are by far the most fucked people here."
He agreed, his eyes rolling around in their sockets. I advised him my mind was still functioning like some hyper kinetic tape recorder and that the events of the evening would be relayed back to him. He had a penchant for loosing large chunks of memory while in my company and I planned on reminding him what had gone on as I had often done previous. He was nervous how he would hold up, slumping slightly at our table. But like any good poppa bear, I mentioned something about being zen and fetched more drink.
I had long yearned for someone with the moxie to drink with me out here. Someone I knew would be there right up to last call and all points after. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of cool cats around, but I can just be a tough bird to fly with sometimes. Most of our crowd had already gone, and our once sizable entourage had shrunk considerably.
But this was times for goodbyes. I felt like a guy who had just got his apartment the way he wanted, only to have it burn to the ground. I'll miss a lot of things about Alberta; Ginger beef, late night booze stores, and a good barber among them. But a good drinking buddy is up on the list. I'll suppose I'll survive, lord knows I have more than my share of those back home.
The night passed without further incident, me and my Shell peeps proverbially drank the bar dry. There was some dancing, laughing and good times had. At one point my friend Stephane looked at me as we were tearing up he dance floor. "This is how I'll remember you!" He yelled over the music.
I guess I can't ask for anything more than that.

Stolen ferraris, overt racism, and a night of epic debuachery. All fueled by copius amounts of booze on the company dime.

So it was decided amongst some Shell bigwigs that the people in my department where getting sick and tired of being abused and working our asses with no praise. Sometime in the middle of the week an email trickled down the chain of command that there was to be one of those firendly social gatherings with nachos, wings, pool, and friendly conversation. Scheduled from 3:30 - 6pm on a Friday afternoon. Nothing ball busting, just a chance to blow off some steam after a long week and reap some much earned kudos.
It should be mentioned that my last shift with Shell was the next day. I had nothing to lose and only good times to exploit. I was off work at 6, but left at 5:30. I showed up to the aformentioned snacks as well as an amicable group that immediately began heaping goodbye praises upon me. I ordered two pints post haste from the bar and started getting into it. After finishng the second, I ordered a third from a waitress in our private room. When I went to pay for it, I was immediately mocked and advised that drinks were all on Shell.

This changed everything.

I had no worries of awkward office reunions or being the focus of gossip the following Monday. I was done! Whatever I did would be incredibly irrelavent the next business day. I resolved to get my money's worth and go big. This would be one for the ages. Pints of Keiths, platters of shooters, all were dispatched quickly and without a second thought. Jager, B-52s, Sour Jacks. I lost count. I felt like a kid in candy store.

By eightish I started feeling the milk was running out and decided to go home and clean up as I was due to meet up with my pals who were working late and head somewhere else. I managed to sneak some Revs in with me when I came back and we drank away the rest of their respective shifts. They also fed me the word on the street that was that the bosses had hopped bars but were still out and covering everything.
We tore over to Melrose to find quite a scene. I mean, I was drunk, but these folks were LOADED. My (female) coach was dancing with a harem of female co-workers in an area that was clearly not a dance floor. A girl who had just started earlier that week was macking on EVERYONE, including myself, my boss, and some chicks. There was breast grabbing and other assorted faux lesbianism leading to some sexual frustration on the part of male coworkers, so much so that one later got kicked out for being too friendly.
Feeling the need to catch up I was never with fewer than 3 pints, perpetually in fear that the gravy train would run out. Eventually it did, but not until the tab reached more than a grand, leaving the boss to wonder how he would explain that charge on the corporate credit card.
Six of us left for Republik, seeking new adventure, which we found, with more booze and nearly having to fight a pack of Persians for what Sonya felt was her being disrespected. Fortuntely, we left without any blood being shed.
By this time the pack had thinned to Me, Lauren, Sonya, and Steve. Planning on going back to Sonya`s so Steve could nail her, we went to a Shell station to get some snacks. We walked in and shoplifted the place BLIND. Lauren added a hot wheels ferrari to the stash of brownies, and other assorted vachon cakes in my hoodie. The clerk noticed her with some glosettes in her hand and requsted she pay for them. She dropped them and we retreated to the parking lot to determine our next move. While there, Lauren found some joy in flipping off the clerk. He came out and asked her to leave. Lauren reinterated she was from `head office` while perpetually referring to the east indian clerk as ``Harpreet`` (It should be noted that his name was not Harpreet).
Clearly offended, he went to speak to the police while I, not wanting to get arrested, hailed a cab.
We got to Sonya`s, ate our loot, then I left the kids to their own devices and got a cab home.
Needess to say I did not make it to work the next day. I was not the only one. Apparantly of the 5 people scheduled before 10, 1 showed up.