Posts tagged “new york

Insomnia, blogging, Arctic Char, Bell monkies and a traitorous unicorn


2:39am.

That’s when the sky starts to lighten up now. That’s about an hour earlier then at the beginning of the week. I’m a little concerned that my demeanor is slowly devolving into something that is a cross between Bugs Bunny and a zombie. My level of cynicism and sarcasm has risen to an all time high, my brain is constantly firing but it’s spouting out gibberish 90% of the time fused with inaudible groans, I stumble about more than usual without being drunk and I may as well hook myself up to the coffee IV at this point in time – which sucks because unlike normal humans coffee isn’t a stimulant for me. I drink it to relax myself and fall asleep sometimes.

Sleep.

I’m finding it incredibly hard to sleep up here. Correction, I’m finding it incredibly hard to sleep normally up here. My wife will contend that I sleep just fine but that’s not what my mind or body is telling me. It’s not that I can’t sleep with the sun out. Hell I can sleep standing up in a fully lit (and moving) subway car so that’s not an issue. It’s what this nuisance known as the sun is doing to me mentally. I find myself forcing myself to sleep rather than having it happen naturally. When we first came up here many moons ago I was absolutely in my element. I am a child of the night. Sorta like a sexy vampire but with no bloodsucking and looser pants. I’m alive at night. I work best at night. I write my best at night. When days consisted of 19hrs of darkness and 5 hours of light I was in my zone blogging, working and being just an Energizer Bunny full of life. I’m kinda glad I was at the peak of my blogging because had I started now I’d probably would have never blogged at all. It’s brutal. I couldn’t have anticipated how much a few extra hours of daylight would have such a profound impact on my daily living.

Who am I kidding? I’ve never liked the sun.

Regardless, as the days get longer and longer my Bizarro Superman darkness-fueled powers fade more and more. And we’re not even into Summer yet. That’s where the real fun begins. From what I’m constantly told we don’t get full on 24hrs of daylight because we’re just outside the infamous arctic circle but let’s just say it never really gets dark either. Woo hoo. Mix that with my wife into a new kick of playing music to go to sleep at night and I’m in store for a wonderous next couple of months. Mind you, she just bought a white noise machine not too long ago to help her sleep. You know those rainforesty, crashing waves crickets fucking type of things but apparently she’s abandoned that for block rockin’ beats.

I sleep with earplugs. Not by choice. It started back when there were habitual partying neighbors above us in our old apartment. I’m the kind of person that can fall asleep anywhere at anytime if I’m tired but if there’s even a hint of unwelcomed noise, I can’t sleep. I later donned the plugs once again when a child with name of the Norse God of Gods, Odin, walked the Earth above me. He certainly lived up to his tremendous namesake. I thought in fleeing to the arctic north I would relieve myself from the noises (and voices) that plague me nightly but then Jemaine and Brit  decided they learned enough English and elected to test it out every morning at 5am by singing Lionel Richie’s “Hello”. Mind you they only know the hello part and while to some it may seem cute and amusing, I wholeheartedly believe I can make a cat fly before the end of the summer if it keeps up.

I apologize for a great many things…

I apologize for posting a Lionel Richie video. Although I think he should be apologizing for the video itself. The girl is blind and he says “is it me you’re looking for”. That’s just some cold-blooded non politically correct shit there Horse Man.

I apologize for the run on sentences and tangents that stray from the main point during the course of this post. But then again if I don’t have a point to begin with is it really straying from it?

I apologize for not being a daily poster. No… I don’t want to be a giant paper on a wall. I’m just sorry I can’t produce as much content as others in the blogiverse can. I have weeks worth of events, sights and experiences locked in my brain but the creature at the helm of my brain only allows me to blurt it out as he sees fit. I write articles, albeit weird and disjointed ones at times. I can’t just write to hear myself talk. Some people appear to thrive off of that but that’s just not me. While I do ramble, rant and babble I do it for the people 4700+ people who have and still do come to this blog who area interested (for some reason) in what I have to say.  Thank you loyal and demented followers (and those passing through). It’s always comforting being able to spread my infectious dribble across the world.

I apologize for having an Arctic char in the freezer. Yeah. I got a whole frozen fish in my freezer and have never scaled or gutted a fish in my life. It had to be purchased though. I recall salmon steaks and fillets running at least $9 – $12 in the south for the skimpiest portions. This is a whole fucking char, freshly caught, for $25. How could I pass up a deal like that? Course my do now, think later mentality has put me in yet another bind. I don’t care. I’ll defrost and cut that bastard up somehow.

I apologize to Missy for stealing her unicorn and assassinating her with it. I didn’t mean to. Okay… that’s a lie. I did but only because you were slowly killing me the entire time I was fighting my way through the inner ring. C’mon. I was broke, had no fate and was dragging a dragon carcass around for most of the night. The gnome in my pocket didn’t help out much either. When I saw my opportunity to take you down I went for it and prevailed as the ruler of all. If you’re reading this and don’t believe a word of what I’m saying there were three other witnesses to monumental event so I’m not crazy. Course there was a lot of drinking involved too and I do recall Missy requesting that I draw it at some point so I guess that’ll be a future post, eh?

I apologize to Bell and Corus Entertainment for living on Baffin Island. When we left Kitchener we brought our  receiver with us. Bell still offered service up here so we figured it was easiest to just bring it and not have to worry about getting a new one. For months we’ve had the same Astral Media programming we had down south. You know like The Movie Network and east coast stations. That all changed 2 days ago when the brainiacs over at Bell decided to switch our service without notice. Apparently, according to them, the entire territory of Nunavut falls under their west coast services. Nevermind the fact Nunavut makes up about a third of the entire country (with roughly half of that in the east).  I’m no geographer but last I recall Iqaluit is still in the Eastern Time Zone. Heck, if you pull out a map or a globe you’ll see that we’re further east than Kitchener, Toronto and even New York so of course I want to see west coast programming. Does this make even remotely any sense to you? Maybe my sleep deprivation is making me see things in a skewed perspective but doesn’t it bear to reason that if I’m in an East Coast time zone, shouldn’t I get east coast programming? Bless Bell and the monkeys they have working there.

Lastly I apologize for being awesome. Over the last few weeks I’ve come under a lot of fire from critics and cynics for my proclamation of awesomeness. It’s understandable that there is a lot of animosity and jealousy when it comes to being in the presence of something truly awesome so in being the awesome guy that I am I’ll try my best to contain my aura. I’m not being egotistical or overly confident. I’m just being what I am. A tiger can’t help being a tiger. He’s born that way. I can’t help being awesome. I was born that way.


Logo Source: Courtesy World Wrestling Entertainment and the only person aside from myself allowed to refer to himself as awesome, WWE Champion Mike “The Miz” Mizanin
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I wanna tell you about the time I almost died….


Often I use movie quotes as the titles to my posts. It’s a daunting task because I not only try to relate the quote to something relevant in my post but the movie as well. Double jeopardy in a sense. This title came to me as I was reading my blend’s post about a rather traumatic time in her life. It made me ponder my own mortality for a moment. It’s not something I do often. I don’t lead a very death-defying lifestyle so I tend to not think about it that much. Quite frankly I feel that people who spend so much time fretting about death end up cutting their lives short by doing so. I live day-to-day and enjoy each one as though it were my last.

Her post did however make me reflect back to a time when I was confronted with my own mortality. The problem with that is you never see it coming and it happens when you least expect it. Many moons ago when I was a young lad well into his turbulent teen years, I had the aura of invincibility any youngster believes they have at that age. I hung out late, partied often and did many of the things that parents often warn you not to do. After all that’s the whole fun of being a teen right? Fighting authority and proving yourself to be infallible.

Anyway, after a night of boozing it up with the boys I found myself on the long train ride back home. Far be it for me to crash at my friend’s house, of which we were partying at, oh no no… that would be viewed as a sign of weakness and wussiness in the Cool Guy Kingdom so it was public transportation for me.  2am on the 7 train is an experience in itself. Often there were several people spread out across the car in varying states of a drunken stupor. Some laid down. Others would bob back and forth to the movements of the herky jerky train as though they were unconsciously dancing to an unheard beat. And then there’s me. Cool as a cucumber, listening to my Walkman and watching everyone through squinted Clint Eastwood eyes. I was a big dude… at least bigger than most of the deviants that prowled around in the wee morning hours so I had little to fear. In my mind you had to have pretty big balls to fuck with me – pardon my French.

After about a 45 minute ride home I made my way to my housing complex. My neighborhood was a rough one, but I had lived there all my life. I knew pretty much all the playas, thugs and dealers in the area. Heck I grew up with most of them.  I never really walked around with that sense of paranoia like most outsiders tend to do. Despite my block being a focal point for random gunfire on any given occasion, I had a kind of six sense about when and when not to be lurking around outside.

At least I did up until that night.

As I walked down a particularly shady pathway on the outskirts of my neighborhood rocking out to whatever it was that was playing on my earphones a shadow suddenly appeared out of my blind spot. I was so engrossed in the song I was listening to that I never saw the dude until he was right on me. From out of nowhere this rather haggard looking man jumped in front of me and pointed a silver .357 to my chest. I froze but somehow my ghetto survival instincts kicked in instantly because I managed to turn off my cassette player without too much movement and looked straight down at his feet – never making eye contact with him. He ordered me to give him all my cash and whatever else I had of value. I emptied my wallet very casually as if I was lending him money, never making any sudden movements and certainly never looking up at his face. I even somehow managed to converse with him because as I was handing him the few dollars I had on me I asked him if I could keep my ID because it’s a pain in the neck to get a replacement. He seemed puzzled but not agitated by my request and told me yes surprisingly. I then proceeded to give him my cheap watch and even offered my crappy Walkman. He took the watch but said no to the Walkman. For some bizarre reason I decided I might try to bargain with him. I told him it was a Sony Aiwa with SuperBass and I was positive he could get a good piece of change for it. Again, my nonchalant demeanor must have thrown him off because he said no again, but much less intensely. Kinda like “nahhh… that’s okay”.

After seeing there was not much else he could take from a poor housing project teenager, he sheathed his gun and told me to get out of there. Without hesitation I turned and walked, not ran, away. As I turned my back on him my heart was in my throat. I knew for certain that went far too well for a robbery and he was going to shoot me right in the back. I kept walking without looking back. I was tense as if bracing for an impact. After a couple hundred feet I was at the front door to my building. I reached for my keys and almost couldn’t unlock the door because my hand was trembling so much. When I finally got inside my house I went straight to my room. To say I was sober as a nun by that point would be an understatement. I sat on my bed and a chill ran down from the base of my skull to the tip of my spine that lasted for about a minute.

I didn’t feel invincible anymore. I just felt incredibly lucky.

It took me a long time to ever tell anyone that story to anyone. I think my father was the first one and that came nearly 10 years after it happened. I never reported to the police and never sought revenge or anything. It was a situation I foolishly put myself in due to my own negligence so I just let it be. I was just thankful that I survived.

What did I learn from all of this?

A few things. I learned to never be black on a Saturday night and go walking down a dark path. Nothing ever good happens in the movies so why did I think it’d be any different there? I also learned robbers don’t bargain well. That Walkman lasted me all through high school and 4 years after that. He missed out royally on a great deal. I learned parents are actually right – kids really are stupid. Most of all though I learned that I have awesome Jedi powers and can mindfuck people at will.

Seriously though, not many people have a moment in their life where the end is quite literally in front of you. It’s a feeling I wouldn’t wish on even my worst enemy – the feeling of absolute loss of control.  If I had it to do all over again, strangely enough, I wouldn’t change a thing. As traumatic as it was that night made me a better person.

[I’m playing Guess the Movie I Quoted from now on so guess away without Googling… even though I know you will]


An Open Letter to New York Jets Fans


Dear Jets Fans,

For many years I’ve belittled your team. As a long time New York Giants fan I’ve always considered the Jets to be their intellectually challenged little brother that mooched stadium space from them. While there is nothing at all true about that statement you can’t escape how the team is perceived – or at least that’s what I’ve thought for about 20 years now. I am not a bandwagon jumper. I believe loyalties should lie with your team do or die so don’t expect me to start donning the green and white and doing the Sesame Street chant of  “J-E-T-S Jets ! Jets! Jets!”.  I’m true blue through and through. However I do have to give respect when respect’s due. You people are just about the most devoted fans I’ve ever seen next to the Bills fans. The only reason they win out is because they still cling to hope having never won a Championship in the Super Bowl era. Your team has won one at least… albeit 42 years ago.

As a fellow New York football team supporter, I too have been through a lot of rocky roads during the course of the fan appreciation ride. The Giants are a hard team to like. They’re extremely emotionally unstable, despite how grounded their front office proclaims them to be, which makes for wild and tumultuous rides each season. The one thing you can always count on though is the Giants being Giants. They’ll talk big and walk big until smacked in the mouth then they’ll binge on losses in a bout of depression. Despite that I could always fall back on our three rings to bring some peace of mind and provide a constant source of animosity for the Jets fans.

That privilege may soon be coming to and end.

With the Jets swaggering their way to the AFC Championship game in Pittsburgh it’s hard not to believe that they could very well have their second ring in a few weeks. The matchup isn’t a pretty one. The Steelers are a team that’s virtually their clone in every aspect. It’s perhaps one of their greatest challenges this season – but then again the Colts and Patriots were supposed to be that way as well. People bash the Jets for their flamboyant head coach and their back-up-what-they-talk style of gameplay but I say more power to them and you, the loyal masses who have endured decades of heartache. You finally have a team with an identity. While there have been noteworthy players and semi-memorable defenses in the past, at no time since their unprecedented win in Superbowl III have the Jets had a personality until now. Rex Ryan is undoubtedly the best thing to ever happen to that organization (and the NFL for that matter) – whether you like him or hate him. He crafted the Baltimore Ravens defense into one of the most feared forces in the early 2000’s. As a head coach, the wish was that he could have both the offense and defense play with that same level of ferocious tenacity and this year he has achieved that. The Jets are no fluke, folks. They are in the AFC Championship game once again and this time they’re packing far more confidence than ever.

So to the zealous Jets fans across the world, I say let your voices be heard. Long have you suffered the indignities and cruelties beset upon you by the superior teams of the league. Your time has come. Talk trash. Gloat. Prophecize. Let it all hang out.  Your penance has been served and now it is time for you to celebrate with the upper echelon of fans across the NFL. The Jets are officially the team no one wants to play. That’s a helluva moniker to earn. Enjoy the ride folks and good luck.

Forever Blue,
Ian E.


All in all this has really not been a very pleasant day.


Something must be afoot. It’s been days since my last post. I know, I know… all of my millions and millions of fans must be waiting with bated breath wondering what new and incredible insights I’m going to grace WordPress with. Okay so there’s nothing true about anything in that statement other than “I’m” and the only thing I have to say is in regards to the lovely men and women at the United Parcel Service.

So I  had a discussion with my father last week. Years ago, when I was last in NY I had started building a computer. It was a great system (at the time). It was going to be my new weapon to inflict massive amounts of graphic design damage upon the world. But as life would have it, certain circumstances arose where the construction of that computer had to be put on hold. Pressing real life matters forced me abandon my project in mid construction. Flash forward to present day my father and I came up with the idea of him shipping the partially constructed monster beast to us before we leave for Nunavut. It made sense. I could put it together and have it shipped up to our new frozen home with all out other belongings. Who could handle such a task? Certainly not the conventional mail systems. We’ve had nightmare encounters with the United States Postal Service and inviting Canada Post into the mix is a recipe for disaster. Who then, dammit? Who?

What can brown do for you?

Of course! UPS! I’ve used their postal service for years and have always had good results. They’re quick and reliable. It seemed like the logical choice.

Seemed.

My father brought everything down to the UPS Store and did the right thing – or least what we thought was the right thing – and had them pack up the components. He explicitly told the dedicated worker that it was a computer and needed to be marked fragile and handled with care. He was met with a warm smile and the classic reassurance of “No problem.”

The packages arrived very quickly. Heck I don’t even think it took more than 3 days (and that wasn’t express shipping or anything). When I heard the knock at my door I was jazzed. I was finally going to be reunited with my Frankenstein. When the driver handed me the packages I saw that they were a little dinged but that’s expected with long distance travel. Lo and behold when I opened the box containing my hard drives and case I was horrified…

Yeah… my case was wrecked. The entire front panel had snapped off  from the case itself and the top portion was completely shattered. With the aid of some Krazy glue and a bungee chord (yeah I MacGuyver with the best of them) I managed to glue the pieces back together. My hard drives were in an sorry state as well. I had three mounted in it… securely mounted I might add. The one in the drive bay was totally jarred from it’s spot and was inside the case acting like a battering ram to the motherboard. Apparently one of the mounting brackets was bent so severely during transit that it quite literally fell out of its spot. Whatever volleyball game they were playing with my rig must have been a good one because the hits that rattled the first drive loose must have been so violent that they broke 2 of the 4 screws that had one of my other drives mounts. It dangled precariously as if holding on for dear life.

So the what’s final prognosis? Well my monitor works at least. I have to wait on my CPU cooler to arrive before I can assemble everything and test out my board and drives. So it’s the waiting game once again. I should be livid at this point in time but the move has me properly distracted enough. There’s a disturbing annual trend that’s starting to develop every October now. I seem to be destined to have something screw up in the spooky month. Last year I had tried to get some custom t-shirts ordered for my wedding but that fell through right at crunch time. Long story short, I was out $350 four weeks before the wedding and had no shirts. Ironically I’m four weeks away from another big day so I’m hoping that this counts as my bad October event so that we can get to where we’re going without any major mishaps.

What can brown do for you?

Put the kibosh on your property apparently. Welcome to my shit list UPS.