My Friday has thus far been a comedy of errors, but I won’t let it get me down. The week is over in less than 6 hours, it’s payday, tomorrow there will be zombies, and I am awash with green glitter. So what if sometimes my job makes me want to hurl myself out of our 16th floor windows in the hopes that I land on certain people? Life’s too short to daydream about strangling others, however satisfying it might be.

I posted my various goods on Craigslist last night at reduced prices. As much as I enjoy my massive collection of electronic things that go beep and buzz, even I think it’s getting a little out of hand (and also I need the money to pay for the things that hold my other things that go beep and buzz). I wasn’t expecting the iPhone to be such a hot item, though – within 5 minutes of posting my 8GB 3G, I had 12 emails from people willing to drive to my house that second to give me cash. Flattering, but I contacted the first person to get through to my inbox and we did the deal this morning. I sold it for $250, which I think is a very fair price for the 8GB phone in near-perfect condition (and also I undercut most of the other postings by $25 or so).

So far, I’ve received three requests to ship my EEE PC to Nigeria, at which point the buyer will give me double what I’m asking for. What a great deal! It’s almost better than the 2 size 40 wool suits I almost got last time! This could only be more legitimate if the offer was coming from the very Prince of Nigeria himself! Clearly this may be my only chance to sell, so I should start packing the boxes right away while I wait for the Western Union account numbers.

If anyone isn’t in Nigeria and is interested, my netbook is still for sale. I lowered the price to $250; the name of the game is “get rid of things”, not “make epic profit”.

I have to go cause some trouble now. Wish me luck!

.. to help me out this weekend.

The Vancouver Thrill the World dancers will be at the Zombie Walk this Saturday to dance and hopefully generate interest in the main Thrill the World event this October. I’m looking for photographers and video people to capture the group collectively shaking our undead asses so we can show everyone how incredibly awesome we are.

Thrill the World is an annual worldwide simultaneous dance of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” Shan and I did it last year, and this year I’m a volunteer assigned to wrangle up some pictures and videos of our dance. Last year we had 69 Vancouver zombies dancing, and we raised $1400 for the Vancouver Food Bank. This year we’re hoping for a LOT more zombies – Vancouver needs to represent – and as people around the world do the same dance at the same time, we’re hoping to set and break some World Records.

This weekend is the annual Vancouver Zombie Walk, in which people get dressed up as zombies and .. well, walk. Thrill the World Vancouver will be there doing the dance a couple times to generate interest, recruit zombies, and make spectacles of ourselves for fun.

If you can help me out by either photographing or videoing the event, here are some details:

• I’ll need you for an hour or so this Saturday afternoon (August 15th), from 2-3pm
• You’ll receive full credit for any picture of video we use
• It’ll be a great deal of fun
• I would be extremely grateful (not naked grateful though) (okay, maybe naked grateful)
• ZOMBIES!!!

Email me or leave a comment below if you want to help out!

Screw pictures, I want to DANCE

We need dancers, too. The official Thrill the World event is in October, and official rehearsals haven’t started yet (the two we’ve had were just for the Zombie Walk). If you want to dance, check out the Thrill the World Vancouver website, join us on Facebook, and come learn the moves when the rehearsal schedule is released (or start learning in advance via these videos!). You don’t need to be any sort of dancing professional to do it – the dance is very easy to learn and anyone can do it. Look at me! I’m the best example of someone who shouldn’t dance in public, yet I do anyway. If I – so painfully shy and terrified of social interaction – can do it, then you would completely rock the universe.

Come out and dance!

And if you don’t want to dance, come out and take pictures of dance!

nnnnnngh

I am fully expecting to come home to a river of salmon and ice cream.

I lost my remote connection to my home computer. I asked our network guy to see if he had blocked my IP from getting out because he hates me, and while he assured me that he does in fact hate me, he claims that he did nothing to any of my ports (and then started talking about pasta and godfathers and I am super confused). So, that leaves the power. The city IS in the middle of a thunderstorm, so even with all my paranoid conspiracy imaginings, the most likely scenario is that the power went out at my house and that is why I can’t connect.

That does little to rest my mind at ease, though. My home PC is actually a laptop, so when the power blows (once or twice a week) I do not shut down. I lose my internet connection, sure, but when the power comes back on I reconnect as soon as the modem and router come online. It is a good setup. I dislike being offline.

It’s been over ten minutes since I lost my connection and I still can’t seem to get online. This leads me to believe one of two things has happened:

• Our power is still off, putting the contents of my freezer at risk – and I just bought some of my favourite ice cream that I only get once every two years or so, and the thought of it melting all over my floor makes me sad
• I can’t connect to my laptop because the power surged and fried everything on my desk and I’ve lost everything and have no more laptop

Both of these scenarios are terrible. I’m not going to be able to get anything done today; I’m too worried about my ice cream and porn.

In honour of Tim Hortons’ pulling out of the NOMRI event, I brought Timbits to work for sharing. I sent out an email telling people to come eat them, saying they were victory donuts and linking this CBC article.

Usually any offer of free food is quickly set upon by the masses, but I still have a lot of Timbits left. I asked around to find out why:

Kimli: eat my donuts.
Andrew: ha..if I could open my mouth wide enough I would
Kimli: i could squish it for you
tell others to come eat my donuts
did I scare them off with my email?
Andrew: if they see it they will come
Kimli: they are afraid of my gay donuts
Andrew: its this whole donuts are over there thing while were over here, duh
Kimli: pfft
if no one eats my donuts it means they hate gays
Andrew: maybe we just hate distance
Kimli: nope I choose to think it’s coz yer all haters
I’m telling HR that tech support is anti-gay donut
Andrew: I ate the gay donuts!
how can they be gay if they have no holes?
Kimli: oh they have ways
jim would be happy to tell you
Andrew: …
Kimli: (aren’t you glad you came back to work?)
Andrew: my disturbed quota has been met for today before I’ve even had coffee
Kimli: Then my work here is done
Andrew: at least I have donuts
eww. I just bit a filled one and it exploded all over
eww
Kimli: i *told* you they were gay donuts

.. okay maybe that’s funny only in my own head, but I was highly amused and almost choked on my own gay donut.

I dyed my hair last night in preparation for today’s haircut. Look for me during the Zombie Walk this Saturday; I’ll be the stylish undead in the polka-dot skirt dancing badly in the corner.

The sun is out and today I am glad.

After two straight days of soap boxing, I’m plain worn out.

It’s all for a good cause though, so I don’t mind. I know that my role in the Tim Hortons thing was ultimately tiny, but I do feel a spark of glee over the outcome – I helped! Just a little, but still! After 8.5 years, I’m finally being useful!

Sunday’s Bubble Bash was full of good times, and I’m now determined to find some sort of bubble machine for Lola. I had picked up a surprisingly phallic wand in preparation for Sunday, and even though the weather was not cooperating we stuck it out and blew bubbles until we ran out of soap. We actually started early, as we were done brunch by noon, and attracted the attention of a scary man in a homemade YouTube shirt asking us where the little kids were. He was creepy and he didn’t have sleeves. NO SLEEVES! He wanted to film people with bubbles, but had to settle for us even though we kept telling him a) the event didn’t start until 1pm and it was only 12:15, and b) I don’t think we said anything else to him because his comment about looking for children freaked me out.

So, we bubbled. We ran out of soap around 2pm, but the rest of the small crowd were still going strong. My bubble wand made excellent enormous bubbles, and we all took turns entertaining each other and small grubby children with our efforts. We eventually retreated to the safety of the trees when the small children started to get grabby – one boy in particular felt entitled to our bubble toys, and it’s difficult to say “no” in that situation without looking like a jerk (so I usually ignore them). Eventually the small child was distracted by someone else’s belongings, and we ran away.

Okay, I actually found the video that was shot that day. It’s about as creepy as I expected. I’m glad to see that none of us actually appear in it, because I don’t particularly want to be an unwilling part of someone else’s YouTube career. I also don’t care for the overall shots that were obviously taken from behind a tree – CREEPY! Don’t like it.

I had fun though, and I think we need to play with bubbles more in the future. I’m thinking about trying to gather some friends and hitting the park one sunny day for fun and bubble blowing – there’s something just so silly and awesome about it all.

And I really do need a bubble machine for my scooter.

shan makes big bubbles!

cait does it elegantly

bubble!

I got kicked out of a downtown parkade on Thursday evening.

Zombie rehearsal didn’t start until 6:30, so Shan and I made plans to meet at Pacific Center after work. We had a craving for Vietnamese food, and I wanted to check out the new Sephora store, so we made plans to relocate our scooters to the mall parking lot and meet up for deliciousness.

Shan managed to get past the ticket machine, but I had no such luck. Lola couldn’t trigger the sensor, and as I wiggled back and forth trying to get the machine to spit out a ticket, someone came over the intercom:

“You can’t park here.”
“Excuse me?”
“No motorcycle parking; you’re not allowed in here. You have to leave.”
“Where exactly am I supposed to go, then? There’s no street parking at this time of day.”
“I don’t know, but you can’t park here. I’ll open the gate but you have to leave the parkade.”

I tried to argue some more, but I was ignored. The gate rose, but instead of going to the exit, I went to find Shan’s scooter. She wasn’t there, so I called her and explain the situation: although we were willing to pay for parking and took up less room than a single car, we were not allowed to be in the lot because we did not have four wheels.

Shan came back down, and we prepared to leave. On our way out, we saw a security guard striding purposefully and looking for something – me, we assumed. It had been some time since I was told to leave, and I hadn’t been by either ticket booth yet and heaven forbid I sully their parkade with my inferior two wheels. We pulled up to the booth to be ignored by the three people standing around chatting, until I called out and asked for them to lift the gate. One of them gestured for us to drive around it, and turned back to the conversation. Awesome.

We drove around the block while I swore, looking for someone else to park. Since it was barely 5:30pm and still rush hour, we were out of luck – there was no street parking to be found anywhere, and no other lots nearby.

We were fully intent on spending money in Pacific Center that evening on both dinner and some shopping, but because they would not allow us to park in the only option we had, we decided to go elsewhere – I don’t have time and shouldn’t have to convince businesses to take my money.

It really kills me that Vancouver is so proud of itself for being a “green” city. We pat ourselves on the back and make fancy websites so we’ll look good to other cities, but it’s a total joke. Okay, they opened a bike lane on the Burrard Bridge and they expanded the Sky Train lines. How progressive; giving people a choice. We’re apparently the number 2 city in the WORLD for the very model of green and clean living, which is just ridiculous.

One of the reasons I ride a scooter is to try to minimize my carbon footprint. I produce a great deal less CO2 per year because of my scooter, and it really bothers me that I am actively persecuted instead of lauded for my choices. Motorcycle parking in downtown Vancouver is a joke: two narrow allotments with 2-hour limits. Very few lots offer discounted rates for two-wheeled vehicles. We’re not allowed (and shouldn’t) park at bicycle racks. We can’t park on sidewalks. There is nowhere for us to go.

Other cities are doing their part to encourage people to consider alternate forms of transportation. In Toronto, scooters are allowed to park on sidewalks. In San Francisco, entire blocks of the downtown core are reserved for motorcycles and scooters at $0.25 an hour, for a maximum of ten hours. In Vancouver, we get hit and manhandled and ticked and towed. People take it upon themselves to move our scooters out of their way when we have every right to be there. Parking authorities tell us to give up and get cars, because we’ll never be allowed to park in peace. Distracted drivers run into us, then yell as though we’re the ones in the wrong.

I’m willing to pay for the same rights as a car owner, but I take up less than ¼ of the space. I suppose safe parking is a privilege and not a right, but first I have to find a lot that’ll let me in.

It seems the only way to get any respect in this city is to line the transit coffers or buy myself an SUV.

Monday update:

Good work, everyone! Tim Hortons has responded to the hundreds of emails and phone calls they’ve received over this:

Tim Hortons responds to inquiries about Rhode Island event sponsorship

Recently, Tim Hortons was approached in Rhode Island to provide free coffee and products for a local event, as we do thousands of times a year across Canada and the United States.

For 45 years, Tim Hortons and its store owners have practiced a philosophy of giving back to the communities in which we operate. As a company, our primary focus is on helping children and supporting fundraising events for non-profit organizations and registered charities.

For this reason, Tim Hortons has not sponsored those representing religious groups, political affiliates or lobby groups.

It has come to our attention that the Rhode Island event organizer and purpose of the event fall outside of our sponsorship guidelines. As such, Tim Hortons can not provide support at the event.

Tim Hortons and its store owners have always welcomed all families and communities to its restaurants and will continue to do so. We apologize for any misunderstanding or inconvenience this may have caused.

Awesome. Thank you, Tim Hortons!

—

I’m bored and hanging out on Twitter (it’s IRC 2.0!), and came across this link saying that Tim Hortons is sponsoring the National Marriage Organization’s Rhode Island “Marriage Day“, an event described as:

.. a great opportunity to take a stand for marriage as it was created: between a man and a woman.  Our goal is to esteem marriage to its proper place in society and make a statement that Rhode Islanders believe strongly in this cherished institution.

Tim Hortons is a Canadian icon, and to have their name used to promote something so horrible is just repulsive. They have a “contact us” form on their website, so I sent in a note:

I am incredibly disappointed to see that Tim Hortons is sponsoring the National Organization Marriage’s Rhode Island “Marriage Day” event on Sunday, August 16th. Tim Hortons is a Canadian icon, and to have the name associated with an organization dedicated to denying basic human rights is truly distasteful. In addition, Tim Hortons has a stellar reputation for truly doing good in the community – the NOM does little more than spread hate under the guise of “the wholesome family”. I truly hope this was an oversight on your part, or there is SOME other explanation as to why you would lend your name to something so negative and abhorrent.

If you find this sponsorship as disgusting as I do, consider letting them know. I might love me an Iced Cappuccino on a hot summer day, but I won’t be refreshed at the cost of basic human rights or decency.

It’s been really quiet around here lately – it feels like I’m talking to myself. I’ve also been waking up sad for the last week or so, and feeling kind of lonely. Add everything together, and I am one glum chum. It’s most likely the weather – I don’t mind the cooler days and rain, but the sun gives me a happy that I could really use right now.

Is there anybody out there?

I’m the passive-aggressive Batman!

Drunk Bettie came home wasted last night. We can tell when she’s been drinking, because she gets loud and confrontational. She and the Admiral have been up for some time, being loud and stumbling around their apartment (in addition to mumbling out the window to the firemen outside – long story). Ed looked out our peephole to see why they were in the hallway, and noticed that they left their apartment door wide open and stumbled out the front door to the car.

We watched for a bit as Drunk Bettie warbled on about the flowers in the yard and her depression and how hard she works every day and took 3 minutes to figure out how to light her cigarette. We heard her say they were going to Sailor Hagar’s, a bar a couple blocks from here. She managed to get the car door open, fell into the driver’s seat, and they pulled away.

Then I called the cops!

I used the zoom on Ed’s camera to get the Admiral’s plate number, and called the RCMP on their drunken asses. I probably won’t hear the outcome of this, unless the cop lets on that it was me who ratted her out. If I was dressed, I would scoot down to the bar to watch. As it is, I’ll probably just go find her cat and put her back in the apartment and shut the door – not because I think anyone would steal anything, but because I wouldn’t want her cat to escape the building.

Drunks are pathetic, but drunk drivers are a special brand of evil unto themselves.

I’ve been tempted to call the cops on them before, but this is the first time I’ve actually done it. I hope they get their cars taken away before they hurt someone.

Assholes.