What I Like About Summer

Between the fact that the office water-cooler talk seems to revolve completely around stupid stuff like golf these days and the fact that it is hot as crap outside, there is really no denying that summer is is in full effect. And the truth of the matter is, I kind of hate summer.

This is the time of year where it is perpetually hot and gross, and where the sun always getting in my eyes and making me sneeze. This is the time of year that is closely associated with doing things and sports and being outdoors - three things that have always ended poorly for me (seriously, if it weren't for the LCBO and electronics surplus stores, I'd never do anything or ever leave my apartment). But while I might hate summer, I also hate complainers and hypocrites (that's meant to be a joke), and so I figured that I'd try to put a positive spin on everything and talk about what it is that I actually like about this god-forsaken time of year.

And there's really only one thing that I like about summer. Girls in summer dresses. Ironically, it turns out that I like that aspect of the season quite a lot.

Dogs Have No Need to Be Hauling Around Anything That Can't Be Carried In Their Mouths

On a topic similar to yesterday's post, did you know that there are backpacks for dogs? Check it out:


Man, people are so lazy.

The Contents Of My Backpack

An important part of my "look" is the black backpack that I wear literally everywhere that I go (seriously, I feel naked if I leave my apartment without it). I've owned it for longer than I can remember, and now that I think about it, it's probably more the equivalent of an adult security-blanket than anything else. Since it comes with me everywhere, a coworker asked me yesterday what it is that I feel I need to be carrying around all the time.

So for inventory and posterity, here is a list of all the stuff that can be found in my backpack:

-umbrella
(in case it rains; this is always in there, even in the winter)

-hooded sweatshirt
(in case I need a hoodie; no joke, the same sweater has been in there since the late 90s and has only ever been taken out to be worn or washed)

-book
(currently reading The Amber Spyglass, by Philip Pullman)

-keys to my parent's house
(don't know why I carry these around; they live in another city)

-spare change
(not sure how this ends up in there, but it always does)

-a variety of pens and markers
(half of them don't work)

-a collection of old paystubs
(don't know what to do with these)

-a couple years' worth of old subway passes
(I hold onto them for tax purposes)

-an inflatable love-doll
(not really - just checking to see if you're paying attention)

-random CDRs containing an assortment of MP3s and files
(I never seem to label the discs that I burn, so I have no idea what's on half of these)

-allergy medication
(probably expired)

-lip balm
(don't leave home without it)

-a few USB drives
(more MP3s and files)

-instruction manual for Final Fantasy Crisis Core
(I'm a little surprised to find this in here, actually - I've been looking all over for it)

-big old earmuff-type headphones
(they look retarded, but they've got good sound)

-what appears to be a number of old receipts
(the writing is faded, so I don't know what they are for)

-several half-empty packs of gum
(these are really, really old; don't ever ask me for gum)

-a sock
(I hope it's mine, I don't recognize it)

...the irony of course being that now that I have emptied all this junk onto my desk there is no way that I'm going to be able to cram it all back in.

What's The Deal With The Timestamps On This Thing?

Hey, does anybody know what the deal is with the timestamps that Blogger adds to these posts? They're always a few hours off. Like my Friday night posts, for example - I'm using not that drunk until way later than 6pm or whatever.

I figure it must be some sort of time-zone setting in my profile or something, but I'll be damned if I can figure out how to set it properly. If anybody knows, please enlighten.

My New Cubicle Neighbor

We have a new summer co-op student at work that started last week, and she was given the desk in the (formerly) vacant cubicle that is adjacent to mine. Since I've had this corner of the office all to myself for the past few months, it has been a bit of an adjustment having a new cube neighbor... well, it's an adjustment for me at least (You see, I'm not entirely convinced that she's aware that there's somebody on the other side of her cubicle wall - as I've mentioned before, I'm a pretty quiet guy and so I'm pretty sure that she doesn't realize that I'm there. At some point in the weeks to come I'll probably scare the shit out of her when I cough or something, introducing another layer of awkwardness into the magnificent tapestry of gawkiness that is my presence in the office.)

One thing that I find curious is how she seems to spend a significant amount of her day looking up ex-boyfriends online. At least, that is what I assume she is doing based on the accompanying narration, which feels like it is perpetually being whispered under her breath: Click-click "He got engaged? To that bitch?" click-click "That bastard never took me to Aruba" click-click "Looks like somebody hasn't been working out much lately" click-click "Ugh, what an asshole" click-click...

I don't really like her because she's kind of annoying and because she embodies the generation gap that somehow divides me from people who are at most only a couple of years younger than I am, but I do find myself in awe of how she manages to be so perky and lively, and yet so jaded and spiteful. And either she has a lot of former boyfriends, or else she is Facebook-stalking a guy who manages to update his profile a few times every minute and who I probably wouldn't care for very much either.

Welcome to the cube farm.

Drunken Friday Night Post, Part III

My neighborhood consists largely of big houses that were probably pretty nice at one time, but have since been divided up into apartments (it also seems to consist largely of crackheads wandering the streets aimlessly, but that's another story for another time). Anyway, as I write this, some people that live in the house next door to me are having a huge-huge-huge party. It's awesome. For the past hour or so I've been sitting here in the dark under my kitchen window drinking Smirnoff and listening to the drunken chatter of all the smokers on the porch next door.

What I am doing may seem sad and even a little creepy, but they've got a pretty good party going and this is honestly the closest I can realistically expect to get to big house parties. Even if I were ever invited to something like that (a pretty big if), I'd never have the balls to go. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable that being in a big group of people, especially if that group may potentially include former asshole high school jocks. And the truth is, I'm having more fun than I'd care to admit sitting here enjoying some drinks while listening to their music and laughing at their jokes.

I'll probably get bored in a while, or my upstairs neighbor will probably call the cops, but for the time being this is a great Friday night.

A Chronological List Of All The People That I've Talked To Today

Here's a chronological list of literally all the people that I've spoken to throughout the course of my day:

1. Subway Collector
Re: Subway Fare
2. Guy On Phone
Re: Is Peter there? (wrong number)
3. Chinese Food Lady
Re: One lunch special, please.
4. Guy On Elevator
Re: Hold the door!
5. Landlady
Re: July rent

And today was actually a pretty big day for me. I mean, Tuesday was a holiday (Canada Day) and I didn't leave my apartment or talk to a single living individual the entire day. I'm just saying.