Hungry Ghost's Daily Diet (TM)

Thursday and it’s sunny and crisp out (or This means I’m stuck in a windowless, airless basement room surrounded by radioactive things in lead canisters).

The alarm clock didn’t go off this morning and I glanced at my watch 10 minutes before I was supposed to meet DS to pick up the subjects. But of course, it’s not like one just appears in front of DS. There were certain steps which had to be taken beforehand. All of which consumed valuable time.

1. Wash face – quick splash with hot water only – no time to support delicate web of rapidly aging tissue with what the scientists at Bio_____ have distilled into various brightly coloured tubes that reek of hope for crepuscular skin – C Brinkley would not have been happy with me.
   
2. Run to car
   
3. Scrape frost off the windshield, but since had forgotten gloves, and had no scraper, had to use bare fingernails
   
4. Drive to secret underground lab with windows down as fingers were too cold to scrape frost off the side windows
   
5. Realized that didn’t have top-secret pass for underground lab, had to cadge bossman’s pass, except that he didn’t have clearance for the underground lab either. Nor did security so had to cajole DS into coming out of top secret underground lab with rubber bands around the cages (very high-tech security we have). By this time, I was 40 minutes behind schedule, but with some judicious driving (and taking my cue from MB and his obsession for beating yellow lights… ), I made it to top secret lab number 2 (where in true Canadian style, we have curtains to shield us from the outside world) only 20 minutes late.
   
6. Managed to get the lines into the first two tails (imagine treading a big needle into a tiny tube that is alive, moving and totally uncooperative, and yes, throw in a few barbs designed to prevent needles from coming in scattered along the tube too) in 2 minutes. A new record – very impressive – especially since was still bleary-eyed and not had my coffee yet. Deft fingers. I have very deft fingers.
   

So now we’re back on track, and if I can repeat the deftness, we may even get ahead of schedule. I do likegetting ahead of myself - it’s what I do best.

Wednesday would have been yesterday (or Things come in threes and anticipating the third will wear you down).

The day was quiet enough at work with one moment ofunbridled joy. The local coffee house has started serving Verona again –for the whole week. Bless you E for you were the one to tell me that Verona would be on tap for the whole week.

Then the fire alarm went off late in the day– it’s not a raucous dinging as you might expect, but rather an insistent but measured tone, much like temple bells trying to induce a trance in its devotees. Didn’t smell any smoke nor see any fire, but decided it was best to head home. On the way back, I decided to do something about the dank and darkness that has enveloped me – some have even called me dour (what nerve!), but probably better than sour – physically and metaphorically. I stopped off to get some very, very, very bright bulbs and upon reaching home rearranged the lamps in my place.

Of course, one of the bulbs was broken - a CFL - and as I opened the box, a cloud of white powder fell out and covered my desk and keyboard – probably mercury oxide. Hrumph. Fortunately I saw the jagged edge on the bulb and so was able to avoid cutting myself – this is the second time in recent times that a light fixture has threatened me. I’m now wary waiting for the third. Have lost enough blood in recent days what with the brambles scratching me during the Gunner Shaw Run last weekend – came in the bottom half, by the way. Not very pleased with self.

However, the other bulb was fine and so the apartment is brighter now, only half as bright as it should be, but nonetheless an improvement. The dust, however, showed up very clearly in the new bright light so I vacuumed, and inspired by this, did the dishes too.

It is amazing how a clean and neat apartment which is lit up, and where everything is put away can lift your spirits. DW¹, PJ and ML would not approve of the bright lights, but it’s my spirits that need lifting not theirs. Beside, their rheumy eyes are bothered by bright lights, hence the obsessive need for darkness. So LOTR.

Being Wednesday, it was a run night. So doffed my running shoes and off I went with thoughts of the upcoming First Half in February. Took the long way down to the meeting point, did the longer of the two runs and clocked a 60 minute run. This shall be the first of my 6 – 8 longer runs before February. The training (if one may call it that) has begun…we shall see how long it lasts.

We congregated at Moxie’s after the run. Dark brown ambiance, everyone dressed in black or shades of grey – rather dull really. But scintillating conversation, not tedious in the least. There was much witty and brilliant (at least we thought it was witty and brilliant, and really who cares what others think?) exchange of words, ideas, concepts and snarkiness between DW² and me.

At one point, the inestimable DW² made a most pointed comment about a certain other who lacked the requisite good taste in a certain thing even if the certain other had excellent taste in general. I took this as a compliment in a soi-distant manner…and it’s just to complicated to explain, so I shan’t. Let’s just say that we shall not hold this lack of good judgment against this certain other. So you, certain other, may breathe freely for now.

We have also decided that Aloysius is to be the word of the week. Even if it’s a proper noun, we feel that it is worthy of being an adverb or adjective. Use it freely. Then the others went off for more quaffing while I toodled home.

Of note. PJ was supposed to join us, but he was rescued from our shallow and vapid conversation (but not tedious) by the homosexual and erstwhile homeless mathematician who is in terrible straits now that he has purchased a property – not that I have any sympathy for him, him being now a homeowner.

Tuesday, dank and dark (or There is always a light at the end of the tunnel)

Tuesday was a surprisingly giggly day of chuckles despite the dark and pathetic mood I was in on Monday. The day started with dark and gloomy clouds, a messy, dusty and dark apartment. The coffee was weak at BSG – a drop in standards. Tsk. However, near the end of the day as the dark was permeating my mind and body, an invitation for dinner and bright blue drinks was proffered by LN, which was rapidly accepted – never turn down the offer of food.

So across the bridge I trundled on my bike in the dark of the evening. There across the dark waters LN’s apartment, glowing with about 25 100W bulbs giving off easily over 250,000 lumens, guided me. Dinner – noodles, fruit de mer and a spicy and varied broth. Multi-textured, multi-spiced and multi-coloured, who could ask for more really?

Then the blue drinks. Quite scary actually, they were really quite blue and potent. LN said to me:

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll give you the skinny narrow glass.”

I tried to point out it wasn’t the size of the glass that mattered, it was the amount of blue and clear liquids he was pouring in, but he was having none of that.

The chat was all-encompassing covering as it did, the laws of the land, the cultural landscape of which we are part, and what our respective roles in life were. Yes when pressed, one can be profound. Or perhaps it was the blue drinks.

As it turns out – I won’t say what LN’s role in life is, suffice to say that he’s determined mine is to be a comfortable pair of bedroom slippers, rather than say a pair of stern and resolute cowboy boots with spurs. There was much more to this seemingly simple statement of course, but it was predicated on the slippers forever remaining in a pristine state. At the time, I agreed, but upon further reflection, now believe that however comfortable a pair of slippers may be, they will be worn out eventually, at which point, sharp bits of wire that form the frame of the slipper will pop out of the cushioning causing the slippers to be less than comfortable. Prickly even, one might say. Oh, please don’t ask me to explain, I scarcely know what I mean myself.

The conversation ended with no resolution other than LN will be festooned with rainbows to come, and my slippers will not be made of faux leopard skin. Good thing really as I felt the giggles chuckles descend upon me right about this time.

I headed home a tiny bit light-headed and walked my bike part of the way. A telephone conversation on no matters of particular importance with the inestimable MB ensued during the walk, one which was punctuated with much giggling many a chuckle. I rather fear though that while my chuckles were, like the conversation, all-encompassing, his were rather more directed at me. So be it. Blame the blue.