A Grudge and Anticipation

Dear Aaron/Erin Neely:

For at least two months I have been receiving phonecalls for you. I am not impressed. It doesn't really make any sense, because I've had my phone number for well over a year, and the calls for you only started recently. Either you've got a number very similar to mine and a lot of inattentive friends, or you've been giving out my number as a random fake phone number. Today, I stopped being polite about it. I thought you should know.

Meanwhile, I am expecting to get my hands on the really new debut album, Stay Golden, from Regina's Goldenmile in a couple of days. When I left Regina in the summer of oh-six, Goldenmile was one of my favourite bands to see live, even though I almost always missed the first half of their sets. So I'm very excited to hear the album. The record is out on the new Regina label Young Soul Records, whose website I want to punch because it is useless. Their MySpace page isn't much better, but at least it has songs. And if you're on MySpace, maybe you can be their friend and maybe there's some benefit to that.

mp3: "Intruder (demo)" by Goldenmile

Call Me, I Won't Call You and other random stuff

After a full year of having a cell phone, I finally put a ringtone on it. I'm not going to tell you what it is, though. You'll have to hang out with me until I get a call to find out.

I don't get many calls, but I do enjoy the security of having when I'm coming home late at night/early in the morning. I make even fewer calls. In fact, I hardly call anyone at all.

Working the nightshift, I feel out of step with the rest of the world. I'm pretty guarded about my free time, and so I figure that everybody else is too. Like, people probably have better things to do at two in the afternoon--namely, work--when I'm ready to hang out? Maybe I don't give my friends enough credit. Maybe I don't see or talk to them enough to even have a sense of what their daily schedules are like.

Before this turns into a pity party: The point is, if I haven't called you, don't take it personally. In fact, if you have a number to call me at, I'd probably like to hear from you, and I am available to hang out weekday afternoons!

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On the way to work, I usually pick up a coffee at that place named after the guy from Battlestar Galactica who was named after Moby Dick. I'm not particularly proud of myself, but what can I say, they've got all the most convenient locations. And now that I've been hitting them up four days a week for four months, I'm kinda hooked on their blends. When I'm ahead of schedule (never) I like to grab my coffee from Blake's, but they're like, three whole blocks out of the way. So I'm at the Bucks of Star, and I see a little sign (really little!) that reads "Like many of you, we've changed to 2% milk". Say what? What is this, 1991? 1987? I don't remember the last time homogenized milk (now more sensitively referred to as "whole" milk) passed my lips. In my parents' house, 2% became de rigeur about the time I grew my first sideburns, and skim took over by the time my shaving syncked up with the lunar cycle. For a company that has a reputation (among rubes, at least) for being near the vanguard of consumer culture, it sure loves its milk fat!

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Saskploitation link of the day: Recent UFO activity in the motherland.