Seventeen: Not a memory

Today Mel and I both had off from work as a bonus for the long weekend. It wasn't anything special, but yet it was quite busy. Mel had a nail appointment at 2 that got moved to 1, and while she was at that I was running around town doing errands, buying some resin shelves for the basement, getting gas (since it's fell to a paltry $1.947/L this morning) and coming back to pick her up, then get Starbucks. It was a tiring bit of running around, and then we had pizza for dinner and spent all the afternoon watching Kim's Convenience, which we have gotten into after Mel saw some of it on her trip. Now she's napping a little, drained as we were.

This past week was a whirlwind, a very long four days. Monday was admittedly a blur, I batched it up for a night, ate more leftover Chinese (gentlemen, if your lady is going away for a few days, you could do worse than getting some lemon chicken and pork fried rice before she goes.) Tuesday, I was due to go into the office for The Big Meeting as well as the usual nudging of "Come on, won't it be fun to see everyone again??" by the extroverts at the top. I teed up drinks with my fellow IA's for after work, which proved to be fun, certainly a lot more fun than the meeting itself. The day was fine -- anytime a large number of people converge on the office there's a First Day of School vibe and we're all kind of buzzing about seeing each other and reconnecting, yes. Hey, I'm an introvert, I recharge away from people but when I'm charged and ready to go I am wildfire, baby. It was particularly nice to meet Kaitlynd as, by the time we were done for the day it was like we were old friends.

So it was nice to get out and have drinks with Kaitlynd and James and Don, swap stories, have a little bitch sesh, whatever. That's the kind of thing that's been missing, as we as a group were all starting to get very chummy before the pandemic (although quite a few of us who were in said group are now missing.) It was a lot of fun although after being up since before the alarm at 6 I was way done for the night, the one beer probably got to me more strongly than I'd expected and I was really letting loose by the end. The end result was, we left a little after 7 and I got home after 9 and basically passed out on the couch watching Brooklyn 9-9 on Netflix. I did talk to Mel although my brain was mush.

Mel had a pretty rough trip. She took my advice and stayed in a hotel in Calgary near the airport instead of staying overnight in Banff and trying to get to Calgary, 2 hours away, for 6 AM to make her 8 AM flight. This is what I sensed would be the correct thing to do from the beginning, but it was very hard to arrange. I later found out this is called "Anxiety Tax," where you pay extra for things instead of incurring the anxiety of dealing with what would seem to be the normal course of action.

Wednesday I went into the office again and had a decent morning trying to get everything I could done before logging off for the afternoon while I went to the airport to pick Mel up. On my way out I made a point to chat up Catherine, who had come to chitchat with me the day before only to have me brush her off because I was on a call (very hard to tell because the call happens on headphones.) I felt kinda bad because I like Catherine as a person even if I have complex feelings about her trajectory through the company versus my own. That's personal though, it has nothing to do with her.

On the way to the airport I called into a meeting where they were going over the new job posting. This was much-anticipated for me because I had been considering whether this was the step I needed to take. I am pleased to announce that it is... not. No. It actually sounds like they're thinking about it in a really cool way, looking for new energy and new ideas to revolutionize the role and redefine it in certain ways, and frankly, that's not me. And I'll tell you why.

I am very happy doing rank and file work and pushing buttons and yes, occasionally coming up with ways to make the job easier or better. I have time outside of that to devote to things I like doing and care about. I am not in a place in my life where I could devote that kind of energy to a job like this, networking and making connections and thinking outside the bun. Don't get me wrong, I'm a smart and crafty guy and there is something more inside of me than Inventory Analyst, but that fuel is not for this company. I had a nice talk with Maria the next day acknowledging that it's hard to align exactly what I have to offer with advancing at Indigo, and I'm not saying this as a bad thing (if anything it's Indigo's loss) only that I defy the usual expectations of development: get good at your job, get a promotion, get good at that job, whatever. It is true that in the long run, something is going to have to give -- but that's a conversation for another time.

I'm five years into this role and it still kind of feels like I just got here, even though I've now stayed longer than all but one who were here before me (and even the entire cohort that came after me.)

I have mixed feelings about that, but I have other things going on.

So once I got to the airport it was a bit of fuss and muss to get Mel deplaned and baggage claimed )she was paranoid we'd missed her bag but I was there when the carousel came on. I wasn't supposed to be -- I was across a line that said Do Not Enter -- but I wasn't going to let an abstract concept keep me from my wife any longer than I had to be.) After getting some runaround on our way back to the UP, we finally got back to Union.

We decided to stop for some lunch at Union Chicken, where they were playing Aerosmith's "Movin' Out" (the first song Steven Tyler and Joe Perry ever wrote together, the very definition of a deep cut) and we had an energetic, bubbly, talkative waitress who laughed way too hard at some off-the-cuff remark I made. We sat and talked and ate and discussed her trip and our plans for the weekend and other things, then decided to get on a train at 4:45.

We got on the train with all of Mel's baggage, and the only available seats we could easily find were next to some obnoxious anti-masker complaining about everyone wearing masks ("Uh huh huh, koff koff oh no Covid") stinking, someone later said, of booze. Luckily they were getting off at Exhibition for a concert, so I decided we could endure for one stop, although they made it tough. I noted the irony that the guy was complaining about the door behind him not properly closing.

After he was gone we felt a breath of relief, but little did we know the train ride from hell was just beginning. Everything was fine until just after Port Credit station when we felt a strange rumbling beneath us and the train came to a stop. As it turned out someone had left a log (or a stump, nobody's clear on it) on the tracks and basically killed our train. We were stuck there for three hours in mood lighting, and my phone was dying (I had a cord but no outlet.) During this time I got to know the ladies in the next seats over, who worked for Ikea, as well as the other guy, a paramedic who got on the train just this once trying to be early for his 7:00 shift, very well.

After a long wait, some conversation, and a little bit of reading, we finally got towed back to Port Credit, and onto the rescue train. There, our only options for a seat were with a manspreading suit guy, and a guy who took his shoes off, and also wasn't wearing a mask. We went with Shoeless Joe, who was charging his phone in an adjacent outlet.

Eventually, the manspreader got off and Shoeless went to his seat. Another nearby passenger asked if he had a phone charger he could borrow, and he said no he didn't, and promptly left (to the upper deck, not to the exit.) I asked the other guy if I had heard correct, and he said "Yeah... I saw him using it." I offered the guy mine, but it was only for like two stops. Still, I felt like a good person.

Finally we got through the door at 9 PM. Mel had been in transit for well over 13 hours by that point. We ate some macaroni with a bit more of our chicken and watched This Is Us.

Thursday was nothing special, which was nice, and today was today.

Tomorrow... I don't know man, I'll probably write some but I've also got to clean up the house which has been in a nasty state all week and even before that, and only gotten worse. C'est la vie.

I think I'll go wake up Mel from her nap and we'll figure out something to do for the night

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

Sixteen: Poor Man's Porno

It's been an interesting day. Few days, really. Noteworthy for a few reasons I guess.

The theme of the past couple of days has been getting Mel ready for her trip. She's been slated to go out west for a while to visit the hotel in Banff and train some of the staff there. It sounds great in theory but in practice it's not the most ideal. She flew out this afternoon and will be flying back at 8 AM Mountain Time on Wednesday, meaning her "trip" is going to be a whirlwind few days, nothing fun or fancy. So yeah, you know, a work trip. There just happen to be a few facets of this trip and the planning there of (and the treatment of my spouse therein) that rankled me and left a sour taste in my mouth but out of respect for the parties involved, I won't spill the tea here. I'm and outside observer and, let's face it, a somewhat biased one.

So naturally there has been concern over preparedness and level of packing, so on Saturday we dedicated the day to getting ready. We made lists, sorted things out, worked out a kind of itinerary, packed bags, it was a pretty full process. In the course of this, we discovered a few desired items that we were missing, so we also made time for a Shoppers run. In the course of this, I got a text from my mom asking if I could come over and help with her TV.

Mom had actually texted me a few days earlier. See, they had just moved, and as part of that they had started their TV service with Virgin TV, for a savings. The problem is that unlike a carrier such a Bell, Virgin might require a certain amount of Do It Yourselfiness and Tech Savvy, which does not describe my mom. First they had me order some Amazon Firesticks so they could get the Virgin App, then once they arrived the next day (thankfully I had let my Amazon account renew due to interest in the A League Of Their Own series) I brought them over to install (only one so far, they haven't mounted the big TV.) On Saturday, they texted again saying they could only see things they had already watched. Not being familiar with the interface, I said I would come over, so we made time to do that in the afternoon. 

It was actually a decent excuse to get out for the afternoon and for Mel to see the place, which is nice. Well, so was the old one but this has a charm of its own. They downsized a bit (Ross: "I got rid of a bunch of my furniture") and have a smaller backyard but it's cute. Anyway, the fix was to make sure the Virgin TV App was their #1 favourite pinned app so they could always get back to it. Anyway, once that was all done and dusted, we excused ourselves and came home and flopped down on the couch to watch Selling Sunset for a while, then I whipped up some steaks for dinner (mine was overcooked but Mel's was miraculously perfectly pink inside??!) Then Mel did some more work and packing, fretting over using the big suitcase, something she would be very sensitive about if anyone were to make fun of her for it.

Today was sort of a hurry to get everything ready and get out the door for 1. Shower, breakfast, hair drying, finish packing, COVID Test, took us to right after 1 PM with very little time to lose. Except someone was parked across the lane from out driveway, so Mel asked me to back out, a bold move considering my recent track record, but I was up for it. I nearly left without my wallet, which would have been bad, but went back in to scoop it up. We did make it to the GO Station with very little time to spare but as we were leaving the car with all of Mel's baggage in tow I realized I had left my phone on the seat. Rather than ask her to wait while I dashed back, or even send her forward and run to catch off, I left it behind and away we went.

Now, this was bad because we were taking the GO train to the UP, and then I was taking that same route back, so that's about an hour and a half each way, but I was feeling worrisome and didn't want to cause any undue delay in our travel, so I made the sacrifice. What I did have was a book in my satchel, Emily St. John Mandel's The Glass Hotel, which I put down sometime last year and only just got back to. I had thought about whether I wanted to bring Reveal: The Story of R.E.M. instead or additionally -- I just finished that, but I restarted it because I had started reading it years and years ago, (originally bought in 2013 in the first blush of my R.E.M. fixation) and wanted to revisit the early goings of the band. But I only brought the one because I was actually intending on listening to the audiobook of A Feast for Crows.

So anyway, I got to enjoy the hourlong GO Train ride into the city in silence augmented by nearby conversations (nothing loud enough to hear, which is good and bad, but mostly good) while I read Glass Hotel, which is a good book. I'm a really tough crowd when it comes to fiction, since if it's no good I have no patience for it, but if it's good it makes me want to write instead of read, so I never get as much reading done as I like, for a "book person," although this is less of a problem with nonfiction, where my interest in learning more and following the narrative usually keeps me interested. This made me want to write. But it did keep me engaged to a point, but it was a lot of time to read.

So we got to the UP, had some time for a cold beverage at Balzac's, then went to the airport, where we checked her bag and said a shockingly quick goodbye. Then I began my trek home, my schlep. I did some more reading but we got stuck at Mimico and I felt restless after spending the better part of an hour reading already. But I had nothing else, no phone, no music, not so much as a pen and paper (I had considered buying a sudoku or something at the International News at Union.) So all I could do was wander the train and find another spot to plunk down and be alone with my thoughts as I stared outside. It was very much like being in university again, in my pre-smartphone days (I got my first Blackberry just after graduation.)

I was very relieved to get to Burlington and get to the car to find my phone, but the delay at Mimico had meant that I didn't get to message Mel before takeoff, and she had only sent one message. I felt a little melancholy about that, but all things pass, all things in time. I came home and ate Chinese food and watched AEW.

While I was on the train I had thought of an old poem I wrote for class called "To Quebec City." The opening lines I will never forget but it is purposefully very long and unwieldy, so I wondered if I had it saved anywhere. When I came home I hunted around on Tumblr but I guess I never posted it there, but I did find my old Writers Cafe account, with all my old writing intact there. What a find. Yes, I did find "To Quebec City" (I have some notes) and also a ton of things, some of which I remember writing, and some of which I had no memory of, from that time in my life, mostly around 2010 when I was getting deep into being sad tumblr boi. I have to say, as much as my state of mind is patently obvious (I'm lonely, I write about unavailability of women, and maybe other people don't know it but every relationship scenario I include is completely fictionalized) I can do a few good things with words, including but not limited to rhyming, rhythm, metaphor, absurdism, and have a few good ideas to boot, in particular one about looking at Missed Connections. In a different world, I became the world's most famous poet instead of Rupi Kaur.

Assuming the multiverse theory is correct and everything that could possibly happen happened somewhere, no matter how absurd.

It was an interesting form of time travel because I'm not that guy anymore but I know where he lives. Now I am grown and mature and have serious grown-up mature concerns like mortgage and promotions and fertility and RRSP. I played Guitar Hero also tonight.

As I always say I'm not nostalgic. My life's not perfect but I have no illusions that it was ever any better or even close to as good as it is now, and I kind of rue young Scotto for taking so long to get here, but I know he did his best. But there is something in the air, since I brought out all those old mix CDs to listen to in the car (you know, I'm just sick of always turning on the radio and hearing Heart, Billy Idol, Whitesnake or Phil Collins.) So my head goes back there, and now it's working its way into my dreams. I had a youthful indiscretion dream with a girl who doesn't exist in my dream two nights ago, where our faces were pressed together. If this is concerning to you, Mel tells me about stranger-make-out dreams she has all the time, including this morning, often without shame. They're just dreams, they don't mean that. Usually it just means I'm thinking about writing something for which I have to access my young yearning side. Last night I had a dream where I split a cab with someone from work that I have a private, one-sided enmity toward (because they are an advancing young go-getter and I am a crotchety old man spinning his wheels) where we buried the hatchet, despite my never letting on that I bear this person any ill will (because I'm fully aware that it's wrong of me.)

One thing that happens a lot when Mel goes away -- and I noted today, it's always her going away, I don't go anywhere, I don't travel for work, I rarely go to the office or visit friends on my own -- I get hungrier. I don't know what that's about. I ate that Chinese food, and then later a bowl of popcorn, and I'm snacky again, I think I could use some candy or something. 

Now I'm just trying to prop myself up. Mel has confirmed she has arrived in Calgary and is now on her way to Banff. She asked if she could call me when she gets there, which will be like 1:30 our time. It's now after 1 so writing this post has accomplished its purpose of keeping me busy and focussed, as well as a cold drink of water. But you know, I'm really fading and it's going to be a long convo reminiscent of when we were first dating and didn't share literally every experience of the day, so I'd better saddle up.

The place is a mess. It would probably be good if I get a little bit of cleaning done before Wednesday but I don't know when that's going to happen. The kitchen, in particular, is starting to smell foul, which is never good.

We've been a little raggedy lately. Pre-occupied perhaps. There's plenty going on to keep us busy, much of which is just life. I've started watering the garden though.

Hm. Mel should be calling any minute now.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

Addendum: There's such a recurring theme this year about me talking about my old life and insisting I am okay and better today than I was then. It's true, but man, me saying it over and over really makes it sound like I'm trying to convince someone. I don't know, that's just what's on my mind lately. I have a workaday job, a mature, well-lived-in relationship and no social life. Not a lot of new things happen to me lately. Is that sad? Does that make for bad blogging? I, I, I... yeah. So I excavate the past and I appraise it, and I find it, over and over again, inferior to today.

A few days ago we watched Senior Year, the Rebel Wilson "Kickin' It Old School" remake, which happens to have as its focal point the time period very adjacent to when I was growing up and coming of age. It's got me feeling a little old, a little reflective, a lot wistful. But I have a very robust record to tell me how unstellar the past was. So today I find myself caught between an uncertain, scary future (because the future is always this) and a past that carries certain baggage but it doesn't matter because it's not coming back.

That's life. Literally that's what life is. Keep your eyes on the road and your hands on the wheel.

I had my call with Mel. She was in quite a state after her long travel and it was all I could do to comfort her and make my presence felt. I hope things are okay. It won't be long anyway.

Keep on rockin again

-Scotto

Fifteen: Honeyed

I'm not in by any means a bad mood right now, which may be why I decided to favor you with this quick post. I'm feeling a little reflective. We are at the cusp of summer -- early may and it's gotten very warm after a few cool or rainy weeks. I'm trying not to see the whole entire summer collapse before my eyes. routines have caused time to pass abnormally quickly and it's put a fear in me. I've been going for walks around the complex, with or without Mel (see below.)

The actual minutes that make up the day are fine. I'm underachieving, but that's not new. We've gone over and over about how I only have so much to give to my job and everything does get done, but it gets done with such efficiency that I could probably fit more stuff into my day (and have been working on that) but I simply... don't. That's not healthy or good and if some folks heard me saying it they might react unfavorably, so let's underline the fact that things do get done. I should simply be doing more things. I could probably stand to go back to planning out my days a little better too, since I tend to merely float from task to task (oh, did I do that? What's left for today? Oh, here's another e-mail and a help ticket.) It's a me problem, and it's been a problem forever, but it's not as bad as it used to be since everyone knows I get my stuff done, and if I have to hang around the computer for hours, so be it.

Because of course, Mel is the one who has been hanging online far too late into the evening. They've got her working herself to the bone and I don't care for it. She's really taking some of the pressure to heart and I hate seeing it. It's not the kind of environment that deserves a Mel, since she gives her all until there is no more to give, and this company seems a little bit to be all take. 

Mel is going on a work trip to Alberta this weekend, which is also the source of some distress. She'll only be gone about three days from Sunday night until Wednesday. Her flight home is scheduled to be very early and she's been trying to get it changed. Honestly it sounds like a nightmare and she has very little support on this. It's going to be a quiet few days, but I'm being dragged back into the office Tuesday and Wednesday so it shouldn't be so bad for me. 

This past weekend was Mother's Day, as well as an early birthday for Brandon, so we went to Dad's Saturday night, Mel's parents for "brunch" (at 1:30) on Sunday, and then stopped by my mom's on the way home. I will admit I was a little antsy during the brunch visit because of the late start and my intended visit to mom, but that's largely on me. I didn't want it to show outwardly, but you know, I was definitely doing the peepee dance on the way out the door. It was nice though, and I would have liked to stay longer, under other circumstances.

I've been writing. And I know, I'm always writing, but this is different. I've developed a scheme to try to write a real-ass novel. I'm going to start by writing a short version of about 5000 words, then expand it to 10K, 20K and so on outward until I have a full book. Will it work? I've never had the discipline for "technique" before, always relied on sheer grinding and trying to create publish-worthy prose in my first drafts, which is always my downfall.

Who knows; with the slightest bit of finesse I might make a little less mess.

This has certainly been a bona fide post.

They said the air was singing.

I've been listening to a lot of R.E.M.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

Fourteen: The Inherent Irony / Something to give

I'm here tonight. I don't really know that I have anything to say, which is possibly why I'm pushing myself to write here. I feel neither strongly good nor strongly bad right now. I've kind of got on this even keel which could also be interpreted as a rut, but I think when you are 34* and married, an even-keeled rut is just called life. You have a routine, you are dependable, you live.

*I keep rounding myself up to 35, but I'm still 34 for a few more weeks.

I've been writing. As you know I got something big done in early April. Then I turned around and did something smaller this past week, something that I had my eye on for a while but only just became time for. I was reasonably happy with it, and now it's done and out there. I do enjoy the experience of completing little things.

As much as I feel overall contentment and satisfaction, there's a certain equilibrium that has been disturbed lately. A while back I was sleeping soundly, actually kind of enjoying my daily routine. Lately, less so. The weeks blur, the enjoyable parts fade, the sleep not such a great vintage.

That said, some of the things that were stressing me out a month ago have improved, faded or been corrected. I was worried about certain work situations -- a realignment of my portfolio that I was putting on a brave face about but and getting happier with as I get into it. There was/is that opportunity to apply for a bigger role which I am still hemming and hawing over, but I've dipped my toe in by agreeing to fill in with part of the work left from the vacancy, which stepping up for which was both very in character and somewhat bold. Does that position me to go further? Is that what I want?

Well, we know what I want, but what can you want when you feel you can't get what you want?

Well?

That said, I did just stop what I was doing to log on and take care of a rather complicated task that I had forgotten about from Monday just so I wouldn't have to hear about it (or at least, have to be reminded.) Does that sound like someone who's all right?

Then there was a personal thing. I took a big leap and got help with a problem I was having in a way that some may scratch their heads about but has been very fruitful to me. I'm happy with my decision. Perhaps more on that in the future, but it's not a story I can tell at this time.

There are things. We looked into getting the backyard done, but it's complicated and expensive. I'm not sure we're off the idea right now but the enthusiasm is down and we haven't discussed it further. 

Mel had to go into the office (yet again!) last week and of course there was a possible COVID transmission, which, of course. We tested negative but because of the timing had to miss Mel's dad's birthday, which disappointed us, but we stayed home, made homemade burgers, and were lazy all weekend. We tested again on Tuesday and were negative again, which puts us back in the running for seeing family this weekend. 

I'm happier than not, but I think my tepidness about my happiness makes me seem a little unhappy. I should feel good, you know. I've got a good mind and I use it well, I underrate myself. I've got things good, I've got a good somebody, I'm on my way.

But, you know, it's one of those nights.

Soldier on. Keep on rockin

-Scotto