Nice quiet weekend, for a change


Jodi and I spent a nice quiet weekend for the first time in recent memory — no big projects, no major interruptions from work, just finally putting No More Heroes to bed (what a twisted plot it has, video game or not!), then watching Heroes (right after No More Heroes, the irony isn’t lost on me) and a great documentary miniseries called Miracle Planet.  We also had a full, homemade, roasted chicken meal, complete with stuffing and my first successful stab at making gravy, though I used far too much gravy browning and it came out looking approximately like molasses.  Tasted fine though.

Work is still work.  I’m still taking on more responsibility than I should by rights have to.  I’ve been told a new guy was offered the position for the other centre, but he has to put in his notice at his current place of employ, and even then I’ll likely have to train him up when he takes the position properly.  So I’m not out of the tunnel, but I can see the light at the end.  Here’s to hoping the light isn’t a train (which I guess in this metaphor would mean that they’ll have hired four complete wrecks in a row for the IT position in that centre, and I’ll just end up being tapped for even longer).

I’ve made a deal with Jodi, that she’s to read the Dune series if I promise to read the Belgariad series.  On reading the first few pages, I really hope she’s right about it picking up and not being as low-fantasy as it seems right now.

We haven’t gotten voter registration cards yet, likely due to our moving recently.  Tomorrow’s the deadline on calling Elections Canada — and I damn well want to vote this year more than any previous, so I’m going to make a point of taking time out of my usually-busy Monday to exercise my duty as a citizen and flex my electoral muscle.  Which is hopefully better defined than my other muscles.  I can’t bring myself to rage about the economic meltdown, but I will point you to this article at the Great Orange Satan and tell you that were I offered the $200,000 to give up on the $0-or-$1,000,000 suitcase, per the Deal or No Deal reference, I’d take the $200,000 in a heartbeat.  Not an instant of hesitation.  Call me a pragmatist.  And a populist, because I’m definitely that too.

If you haven’t gotten your voter registration yet, call Elections Canada first thing tomorrow at 1-800-463-6868 and do your part.  And yes, this does matter, so get informed, and vote.  If we all end up in the poorhouse or fighting over scraps of food and the last of the unpolluted water in some freaky Mad Max scenario, all because the uninformed electorate was swayed by commercials wherein puffins poop on politicians, then I’ll be the first to blame you.  Right before I roundhouse kick you and take your moldy cheese.  Fucker.

Comments

  1. says

    So, yeah…  finally called the number as I too have moved recently and have not yet received my EC card… come to find out, they won’t put you on the list, but tell you to show up with 2 pieces of ID… Am I mistaken or is this not the same thing the card says!? 

    you can have my moldy cheese when you pry it from my cold dead hands.  Two men enter, one man leave!

  2. says

    Really?  That’s it??  I wouldn’t know, I didn’t get a registration card.  Well, I did get one, for the old owner of the house, which I didn’t really look over all that carefully before we brought it over to her.

    It did say that you have to be registered before you can vote on the “make sure you’re registered” info card, which is what makes me think they’ll give me troubles at the voting booth.  I’m calling the number regardless, and if they ask for two pieces of ID, I’m going to make sure I have my entire file folder full of documentation about the house and all my past student loans and records of employment.

    And anyway, doesn’t that make you Blaster to my Mad Max?  That is, a giant retarded goliath?

    Wait, what am I saying? I think I’d rather be the retarded giant than Mel Gibson, even if it means I lose.

  3. says

    We registered and voted today.  No fuss, no mess.  In and out in 15 minutes (save for my having to ask an old and addled-seeming pollster how one goes about volunteering to work the polls, resulting in a five-minute diatribe).

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