the admiral's dinner

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Some people are uncomfortable with silences. Not me. I’ve never cared much for call and response. Sometimes I will think of something to say and then I ask myself: is it worth it? And it just isn’t.

Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

the first (?) day of spring

Everyone is vaguely angry and looks like they want to slit their wrists.  “Happy Spring,” said the IT manager this morning, only to incite an argument about whether the 20th or 21st of March is the first day of spring.  There were no paper towels left in the staff room and no one could be bothered to go to the janitor’s closet to replace them.  The new guy we hired keeps plugging the staff toilet.  The staff member who was in trouble on Thursday is now trying to make amends, and she brought everyone in chocolate and offered to stay 45 minutes late today, even though all we need is someone to put the cash away in the safe at the end of the day.

I have to go to a meeting about an initiative that no one wants to implement or knows anything about. It is vaguely politically savvy for us to run it.  One of my team called in sick today because her dog is dead.  The dog was 11, which her co-workers have calculated is about 45 in people years, and now everyone’s reflecting on their own mortality relative to the age of 45.  A couple of weeks ago I read online that the death of a pet can be worse than the death of a loved one.  The relationship is easier, you know?

We’re supposed to be implementing records management which means all our files need to be in order. I prefer the chronology of a pile. I know where documents are based on how many other documents are on top of them.  My office is covered in piles.  An empty desk is the sign of an empty mind, you know…

I put my to-do list into a project management website / free app and it has prioritized my workload such that everything I don’t want to do is at the top.  That Inbox Zero guy said something about the “tyranny of a million small tasks”.  That Inbox Zero guy said a lot of things.  I like to resent him quietly at my desk while looking at my inbox which perpetually has 187 unread messages.  

I keep getting emails about webinars I have to go to.  Next Wednesday I have to attend a webinar about the reporting functions of integrated library software, followed by a webinar about mental health standards in Ontario workplaces.  I am going to punch the guy who invented webinars.

It’s been another productive day at work.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Where can I find pants that stand up by themselves?

It’s almost time to refresh my professional wardrobe.  I have had several considerations about this:

Do you think anyone would mind if I started dressing like a Starfleet Officer?  Not only is the Starfleet uniform one piece, which saves me matching separates, it’s also made out of that cool neoprene which means I will never be wrinkled.  (On a side note: Do you think we should buy an ironing board at some point?  Since we moved 14 months ago we have just proceeded through our lives vaguely wrinkled.)

Emma Watson’s popularity has only increased since the Harry Potter franchise.  SHE IS BELLE in Beauty and the Beast, you know.  Long story short, why not dress like Hermione Granger?  I feel like I could really pull off the Gryffindor green / British schoolgirl look.

Remember how great Greta Gerwig looked in that weird movie we saw, where she had the adorable baby?  Say I just start layering every sweater I have with opaque tights, and some lesbian looking shoes.  In the library world does the multiple cardigan look automatically equal a promotion?  Maybe I should test this hypothesis.

On another note, I have received your feedback about looking like a fuzzhead all the time.  As a counterpoint, here is a list of women with unkempt hair, who do not have to give a shit because they are smarter and more accomplished than either of us will ever be:

Ann Beattie

ELLIE GOULDING (seriously, google her)

Feist’s backup singers, The Mountain Men

Lena Dunham

Miranda July

Malala (okay, it’s hard to tell, but WE KNOW)

Elizabeth May

Sarah Ostergaard 

All I’m trying to say is that THE DREAM IS REAL, okay?  

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

why i gave up sleeping

- I started PVRing Mighty Cruise Ships and I need to watch the Ocean Endeavour tour Greenland and Baffin Island.  Do you think it’s ethical to eat whale and narwhal?  

- I’m not done infinite scrolling #vanlife.  Do you these kids have a trust fund?

- I haven’t googled all the treehouses we could stay in on our imaginary trip to California yet.  This one only costs $1500 - $2500 USD a night.

- I need to sit on the couch in this cashmere cardigan some more to make sure that I have generated the maximum amount of static for you when you get home.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Finnish lesbians know everything

“It was a tiny kitten when it came and could drink its milk only from a nipple.  Fortunately, they still had Sophia’s baby bottle in the attic…

It was a grey fisherman’s cat and it grew fast.  One day, it left the cottage and moved into the house, where it spent its nights under the bed in the box where they kept the dirty dishes.  It had odd ideas of its own even then.  Sophia carried the cat back to the cottage and tried as hard as she could to ingratiate herself, but the more love she gave it, the quicker it fled back to the dish box.  When the box got too full, the cat would howl and someone would have to wash the dishes.  Its name was Ma Petite, but they called it Moppy.

‘It’s funny about love,’ Sophia said.  ‘The more you love someone, the less he likes you back.’

‘That’s very true,’ Grandmother observed.  ‘And so what do you do?’

‘You go on loving,’ said Sophia threateningly.  ‘You love harder and harder.’

Her grandmother sighed and said nothing.”

- Tove Jansson, The Summer Book

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Wagner’s time signature

I resent the implication that I was untangling artisanal wool on the couch all morning long.

In fact, I don’t have any artisanal wool, because it has been Uber Frugal month since the beginning of January.  It turns out one of the problems of Uber Frugal month is that it never actually ends, and your artisanal wool supply becomes rapidly depleted.

Fortunately, since your mother has been cleaning out her house she found a pile of leftover wool.  She has generously offered it to me and has stashed it in her suitcase for her upcoming visit.  We had a long conversation about it on Facebook Messenger.  

So no, I wasn’t untangling artisanal wool.  In fact, I was listening to Ben Hepner, and he was ON FIRE.

“How do you know a tenor is at the door?”

I don’t know Ben Hepner, how?

“He can’t find the key and he doesn’t know when to come in.”

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

hello.

While you were on the couch at home, untangling artisanal wool and sipping your morning coffee, I was:

X Climbing to the top of the tanks to troubleshoot a faulty lighting ballast.

X Pull starting the trash pump which ran out of fuel earlier this morning.

✓ Installing heat trace on the ISF tubing line jumpers.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Welcome Home Again!

Can you remember my forgotten dreams

just to tell me what I need to hear

when I feel lost without them because

there has to be something else.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

The Well Site Generator Needs an Oil Change.

Today is the day that Cyril and I will do an oil change for the generator at the well site. We take his truck, because he enjoys driving.

The ten minute drive involves a discussion of where to buy used farm equipment, why Nickelback really does rock (and how could anyone hate those guys?), and various questions related to me living in the "big city" (Calgary). I watch the way his truck is doing 110 on our very sketchy, dusty gravel road. Cyril knows a lot about farming equipment, so he is probably a good driver, maybe. He's probably doing the same quick mental calculations before every corner that I am... except my brain comes up with a different answer. I am not a farmer like Cyril. I am from the big city.

I've always noticed that his truck has the overpowering stench of Axe, only now I really realize that it has to be some cheaper knock off that somehow smells worse than an actual Axe product. My god, it smells terrible in Cyril's truck. I feel bad for noticing it, and wonder if Cyril can somehow read my thoughts.

He looks over at me, then casually asks, "So which Nickelback song is your favourite?" 

Uhh, the slutty witch lady one, of course. Cyril laughs because he thinks that I'm trying to be funny, which is ironic considering what he just asked.

We arrive at the well site safely, leaving a 3km cloud of dust that will probably cause some sort of horribly fatal accident, involving a tanker truck freshly loaded with oil from the slop tank, and a pickup truck. As I reach to the back seat of Cyril’s truck to grab a strap wrench to help pull the filters, I notice that Cyril has approximately 7 to 8 "Black Ice" car fresheners, hanging from back of his seat. I hold my breath, grab the strap wrench, and wonder who made the decision for ice to smell this terrible.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Mr. Ian Has Sharp Teeth.

Mr. Ian has sharp teeth. 

Mr. Ian loves pugs; the short, stubby dogs with the curled up tails, so you're always seeing their asses. He loves them a lot... Enough to make his own pug posters on work time in MS Paint. He puts his own little anecdotes on the posters, where the Pugs proclaim, "Pugs are a mans best friend. Pug dogs 4 life!! I'm just the cutest little Pug dog you ever laid your eyes on..."

Mr. Ian does not like Steve. He calls him Steve-o because we all know that Steve is Steve, and not Steve-o. Mr. Ian’s favourite insult is calling Steve-o a “social butterfly". It's insulting to be a social butterfly because everyone knows that butterflies are gay. Mr. Ian chooses not to socialize, unless it's with his Pugs, at home, away from work. 

Mr. Ian felt a bit emasculated, always being called Mister. Mr. Ian told us all to call him "The Penguin" because it happened to be his nickname back at The Mill. Mr. Ian enjoyed that nickname, because penguins reminded him of pugs, in bird form. Mr. Ian earned his nickname after decades at The Mill, and was hoping it would stick, but that just wasn’t the case. Life didn’t work that way for Mr. Ian. 

The Mister thing just kind of came about because we all imagined that's how our boss, Jim might express any kind of contempt he secretly harboured towards other men. "Ha! Spend all day making those ugly dog posters... I'll show you, MR. Ian!!" 

I felt a bit bad for Mr. Ian, because all of his work entries involved repairing plant lighting... it was like his entire two week shift involved him changing light bulbs. It's too cliche for an electrician to only change light bulbs, and probably also a bit emasculating at the same time. I like to use this word as often as I can, because men are supposedly always worried about coming off as being emasculate. Especially men in the trades, like Mr. Ian.

Mr. Ian also enjoys wearing camouflage Croc shoes, which we took to making a big joke about; how couldn't see him because of the camouflage. He never laughed though... instead he would quickly change the subject, probably because he felt emasculated about the whole thing. His sharp teeth and tendency to point out the ability for others to socialize scared me.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

A Sick Day for Mr. Fuzzhead

Mr. Fuzzhead can’t get out of bed today.  He doesn’t have the stuffing to go on.  Over the years it has been squished out of him.  Today he is going to stay under the butterfly quilt and look at pictures of mountains on Tumblr.

Mr. Fuzzhead’s insides aren’t feeling very well.  “Look after me,” he says.  

Mr. Fuzzhead has a lot of back issues of the New Yorker to read.  He can use the day to catch up on the 65,000 word article about the Eritrean soccer team he’s been meaning to read.

Mr. Fuzzhead is probably just going to smoke a joint and listen to Laurie Brown on his Russian tube amp radio tonight.  He has been collecting tubes online just in case the ones he likes wear out like the fuzz on his paws.  Mr. Fuzzhead hopes Laurie Brown doesn’t play any Dan Mangan tonight.

Mr. Fuzzhead’s tiny friend has more energy.  Maybe he will cook the frozen pizza and bring it back upstairs to a pillow fort under the butterfly quilt.  Mr. Fuzzhead can hope.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Why I had to dispose of the dish sponge

There was an incident with the green bin.  It’s since been resolved but let’s just say that something fuzzy was growing in the bottom, and I had to take extreme measures with the dish sponge.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Medora turned to her.  ‘Do you truly wish to keep from falling pregnant?’  The girl nodded. ‘And do you truly know no way of keeping this from happening?’ ‘Only that he should leave the church before the final hymn has been sung,’ she answered timidly.

Sara Taylor, The Shore

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

Please refer to this Gantt chart

It’s really time we think about performance managing our lives.  How come you don’t have a series of metrics by which you can decide whether or not you’re fulfilled?

For example, I have established key performance indicators in several areas, and here is my 9-week summary:

In the last 9 weeks, I have:

- Completed 40 workouts (-5 from my goal, -86 from the only goal I believe you’ve set for yourself)

- Called my parents 7 times (-2 from goal)

- Visited my parents, my sister, and your brother and sister-in-law each 1 time (+1 from any madman’s reasonable goal)

- Read 4 books (-5 from any self-respecting man’s goal)

If you’d just take a weekend course with me on how to build Gantt charts and apply performance management strategies to our lives, we could build out this framework to more categories.  Notably, we are missing opportunities for appreciation of the arts (which I prefer to do quickly, you remember) and any efficiencies related to garbage night.

I leave this in your very capable hands.

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

How many 10 packs of cheese sticks should I buy?

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Oh, and by the way...

I notice that you haven’t reviewed my list of pre-approved pizza toppings.  I’m becoming concerned that you aren’t taking this seriously.  

[mrfuzzhead1-blog]

I would also like some rabbit pajamas

I’m sure you haven’t forgotten, but your niece’s 2nd birthday is coming up at the end of March.  We have some important decisions to make.

Do you think we should buy her a stuffed rabbit dressed up like a bear, or a stuffed bear dressed up as a rabbit?

Would it be better if the stuffed animal were wearing pajamas?  What about a bear wearing rabbit pajamas?  Would a rabbit wear bear pajamas...or not, because from the rabbit’s perspective, the bear is a predator...

I’ve brought this selection of picture books about bears, rabbits, and mistaken identities home for you to read.  Can you evaluate all of them from the perspective of a two year old, and then order the ones you like from Amazon?  Have them mailed to our house so that we can wrap them before we ship them back across the country.

On an unrelated note, I’m going to need you to source some wrapping paper featuring bears in rabbit pajamas.  Can you have it expedited to the house?  I’m expecting an Amazon package momentarily.