|Brrrr....Toronto is so cold
||[Dec. 21st, 2004|03:17 pm]
Consecutive Days Without Killing: 19
Well, not really - but it did reach -20 yesterday which apparently is about as cold as Toronto gets.|
Of course, I had to have some smartass friend mail me from Whitehorse to tell me that the temperature there is + 5.
Despite that, I'm not going to mail him back and gloat when we are at +10 and they are at -40, which is quite often the case in January. Let him have his 'day in the sun'. It's not as if I'm about to pack up the car and start driving back to catch that three days of warm weather.
The weekend was really amazing, I did a lot of things that I would never have been able to do back home.
Let's compare and contrast:
Friday: went to some dinner at the Royal Yacht Club. I felt a little out of place. It was the first time I've worn a tie (other than disciplinary meetings) for over a year. Despite that, it was a pretty good time - and the food was spectacular. There was champagne, plenty of hors d'ouvres, a four course meal, and plenty of free drinks. All in all, it was great food, and great conversation.
If I was in Whitehorse, I would have been dragged out to the Kopper KIng. For those of you not in the know, it's THE club in Whitehorse on Friday nights. Unlike most cities where the hotspot is situated right downtown - the Kopper King is located in the middle of a trailer court. I shit you not. This is no joke. And this is the best club in town?
I would have listened to the usual annoying songs generic factory-produced Hip-hop/R&B that would have been considered Top 40 two years ago, mixed in with the mandatory Mony Mony, and Thunderstruck.I'm not sure if it's a bylaw that these two songs must be played every night in every bar, but it sure seems that way. With any luck, a fight would have broken out which would have provided the only real entertainment of the night.
People from 19-60 would be there, all weaving the fine line of being really drunk and having a good time, to getting tossed out. With any luck, I would be regaled with great stories of how much alcohol the storyteller had drunk. That never gets old. Then we would sit at a booth, make a couple comments about the usual hoochies that have a second home at the bar, and then with any luck, we would talk about TV shows that we saw that week.
Saturday night: went to a Christmas party hosted by some hot chick - didn't catch her name. It was small but the food was great. They had these cranberry brie snacks - and even better - they had poppers. Remember kids, if you are hosting a party - do not forget the poppers. I can not stress this enough. For the old paranoid fuddy-duddies who might be reading my journal - poppers have no association with 'uppers', if that's what you were thinking. They aren't even drugs. Again, there was some great conversation. I talked with a producer, a guy who just got back from Cuba, and a guy who just made his first feature film. Very interesting people.
Saturday in Whitehorse: If lucky, I would have been able to stay home and play video games, chat on the Internet, and read my friends journals. With no luck, I would have been dragged to one of those annoying house parties with 23 guys, and 2 underage girls - where we talked about monster trucks, hunting, and snowmobiles while waiting for our turn to hit on the two mediocre underage girls.
Sunday: Went to see Handel's Messiah at the Symphony. There were trumpets, violins,and a full choir, and solo vocalists.
Here were some of the highlights:
1) A very animated conductor. He actually leapt off the ground a few times, in order to direct the orchestra to produce just the sound he wanted. I hadn't realize one needed to be such an athlete to be a conductor. What if they got Michael Jordan to do it? Could he push the orchestra even higher?
2) The bass singer. His voice was alright, nothing spectacular, - but the look he gave when he was about to sing, was worth the price of admission all by itself.
It was as if he was saying: "Prepare peasants, to hear the most magnificent voice in all of creation. You lucky people have just hit the jackpot. My voice will make you forget all about your worthless lives"
And then when he was done singing - he would turn to the conductor or the tenor and give the look that said"
"Did you hear that? Do you really think we need to go on with the rest of this common performance after these peasants have been given the gift of hearing my voice? Wouldn't that be a little like eatinga peanut butter sandwich after truffles?"
3) The soprano singer. Sure, her voice was OK as well but it was her posture that was so intriguing. It was as if she were a barbie doll. Her arms did not move. She had no elbows, I swear. And her overall presence and demeamour suggested that she was a delicate angel on loan directly from God. We humans had better appreciate her while she was there, because God would be calling her back to the heavens shortly.
There were many other interesting things in this two hour production.
Sunday in Whitehorse would have consisted of me sleeping in until about two o'clock. Then I would have hauled my ass out of bed, grabbed a snack, lamented that I had to work the next day and went back to bed.
Then I would have gotten up, played on the computer all day long. Occasionally I would smell my armpits to confirm that they stink, and smiled knowing that it didn't matter because there was no one in the whole damned town that I wanted to impress.
So, my little friend in Whitehorse, enjoy your day in the sun, I can't say that I'm all that jealous.