Saturdays

Saturdays are strange days for me. I usually wake up early, just before daylight breaks. I wake up with a sense of dread, because I work Saturdays.

I’ll waste most of the morning sipping chai and staring jealously at the cat who likes to hang out in our living room. It’s too easy to envy big fluffy sleepy kitties. There’s too much to be jealous of.

I’ll get to work, which will fly by. It’s hard to complain about working Saturdays when you’re surrounded by people who are working on Saturday, because once you’ve managed to get to work the only real challenge is to remain there, which is really easy to do what with inertia and all that.

In a few short hours, my weekend will finally belong to me, and this morning will flee my memory for another week, and I’ll feel as though my day has barely begun.

But for now, I’m stuck counting hours. So far, there are eight of them. With a rainy commute and the arduous task of getting dressed ahead of me, that sounds like too many hours. I get up too early on Saturdays.

Wow, this post itself was yet another excuse to avoid getting on with my day. Congratulations, self.

What, no moose-riding?

It’s silly, but it thrills me to see my city on TV constantly. It’s nothing new; at any given moment, there are at least 45 kajillion TV shows or movies filming in Vancouver, and if you’re from here, you’re either employed in the film industry or know people who are.

But that’s different. As a filming location, Vancouver is usually dressed up to look like some other location, like outer space, or the town Superman’s from, or even the Bronx (beware of rumbles). Right now, every majestic skyline and sparkling aerial view is clearly and accurately labelled with both location and year. Vancouver 2010! That’s right! That’s exactly where and when I am!
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Post-Olympicsville?

After today’s hockey victory, not to mention all the medals, Scott and I made a quick trip downtown to collect a few high-fives. We were in and out in less than an hour, and got everything out of it that we needed: we sang O Canada with strangers, high-fived strangers, shouted “WOOOOOOOO!!!!!” with strangers, and glanced sympathetically at a Russia fan.
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Noisemakers

I’ve spent the past week or so surrounded by cowbells.

More cowbells than usual.

Next time I go downtown to dig the Olympic crowds, I think I’ll bring my tambourine. I miss playing with my tambourines, which is kind of stupid, because they’re just chilling out in the spare room, waiting for me to feel like some noisemaking.

This song makes me want to go check out my spare room.

The Orchid Highway In Seattle. And Football?

As my Saturday at work came to an end, my mental checklist kicked in. Keys? Got ‘em. Passport? Indeedy-doo. US dollars? Nope! I was going to Seattle for my birthday, and had no plans to buy anything for myself.

Soon enough, Scott and I were across the border and making fantastic time, shooting to make it to the Lo Fi Lounge at roughly the same time as the rest of the band. We arrived first, and waited nextdoor at the Victory Lounge for the others, or for the venue to open. The Victory Lounge offered up a nice bartender, a snappy IPA, and a smoking patio. I loved it! It was the perfect place to hide out from the rain. And the gear loading.

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