If I were God...
Then last night would have been Sunday, my day of rest. But weeks would also be over 12 days long, and the earth would have been created purely within pubs and concert halls.
I had grandiose ideas of updating this guy last night, but instead fell asleep in front of the TV.
When we saw our heroine last, she was preparing for the British Hat party that she and Michelle were hosting for various Brits. I think that the party was a success... hats, hats and more hats. It was nice to see that the majority of people stuck to the hat theme. In fact, Ryan, Sophie, Becky and James purchased hats in Niagara Falls specifically for the occasion:
I had a larf when Ryan's friends told me that they had drugged him the night before to curb his insane tourist guide tendencies (Nikie, I think you may appreciate this from his guiding habits when we were visiting him last year). Smart move. I'm keeping that idea in my back pocket for November.
I think everyone had a good time. I know I did. I was able to drag out my old Waterbuffalo hat from undergrad, and was even offered $200 for it by a random bar patron. I refused. The pimp hat was donned by Sweaty Pete (the general consensus was that he really wasn't sweaty afterall), but unfortunately, my camera died before I was able to capture this on film. Instead, here's one of me, nonsweaty Pete and DrBoobs:
and one of the Andersons, which again, should make Don and Eva proud:
Michelle has many, many more pictures on her blog. I realized why she yelled at me the next day (see below) for not spending any time with her, as she has very few pictures of me. Sorry treacle... I figured I didn't want to overload you with Anderson before this weekend...
All in all, good times. At the end of the night, the McMaster contingent headed back to Vik's for a game that is suspiciously like Bullshit but with dice (Damned if I can remember what its called), and a night of, once again, very little sleep. But definitely worth it.
The morning saw us enjoying conversation, apartment hopping, attempting to watch Shaun of the Dead, and coffee in the park across the way. After bidding adieu to Aimee and Pete, I ended up going back to my apartment and attempting to sleep, but instead staring at the ceiling for the majority of the afternoon. I was shaken from my reverie with a phone call from Ryan and James, however, from the rooftop patio at Wayne Gretzky's. So once again, off I go to enjoy a couple of patio pints. James and I spent a lot of the time trying to convince Ryan that he's an academic. I don't think I've ever met someone who is in such a state of denial. I am pretty sure that by the time he is done next year, however, he'll be applying for academic jobs. They also spent some time trying to convince me to go to Cambridge to do a fellowship. It is tempting, I must admit.
I also got a phone call from a very, very drunk Michelle (actually, her phone call never worked... Vik had to call again because Michelle had forgotten how to use a phone... hee hee). So after going for Sushi with the boys, I headed over to the Tap to be greeted by drunk Michelle, KK, Vik and LMD. This lasted for a very short time, as I was hitting a wall and needed to get to bed. But at least I was able to say goodbye to KK... and will hopefully be able to meet up with her in London in November.
Monday saw me in a bit of a fuzz. Not much work got done. Christine, your code is almost done though. I promise. However, I had to shake myself out of it because... ATHLETE. Unfortunately, Michelle had to forgo the concert because she had the hangover from hell. Poor kid. She missed, what I would consider, one of the best concerts ever. They were unbelievable. The Opera House is such a great venue, and Joel Pott is such an unbelievable showman:
Yes, this is how close we were to front and centre stage. If you haven't heard them, please, do yourself a favour and download some. They are the next Coldplay.
And the one story I have to relate has to do with KK... when I picked her up from the airport last week and told her we were going to Athlete, she told me the story behind their single "Wires". "Listen to Joel sing it" she says, "and feel the emotion coming from him". I have heard the song many times before, but have never really listened to the words. It was written by Joel Pott for his daughter who was born prematurely. Now knowing this, and listening and watching him sing it live, I have never been moved by a piece of music as much. Both Vik and I stood there with tears in our eyes for the entire song. Do yourself a favour and download this song. It is stunning.
And so ends my week of Brits. Good times all around. Tomorrow its off to SanFran with Michelle and LMD, which should also provide load of blog fodder, so expect one hell of a post next week as well.
I had grandiose ideas of updating this guy last night, but instead fell asleep in front of the TV.
When we saw our heroine last, she was preparing for the British Hat party that she and Michelle were hosting for various Brits. I think that the party was a success... hats, hats and more hats. It was nice to see that the majority of people stuck to the hat theme. In fact, Ryan, Sophie, Becky and James purchased hats in Niagara Falls specifically for the occasion:
I had a larf when Ryan's friends told me that they had drugged him the night before to curb his insane tourist guide tendencies (Nikie, I think you may appreciate this from his guiding habits when we were visiting him last year). Smart move. I'm keeping that idea in my back pocket for November.
I think everyone had a good time. I know I did. I was able to drag out my old Waterbuffalo hat from undergrad, and was even offered $200 for it by a random bar patron. I refused. The pimp hat was donned by Sweaty Pete (the general consensus was that he really wasn't sweaty afterall), but unfortunately, my camera died before I was able to capture this on film. Instead, here's one of me, nonsweaty Pete and DrBoobs:
and one of the Andersons, which again, should make Don and Eva proud:
Michelle has many, many more pictures on her blog. I realized why she yelled at me the next day (see below) for not spending any time with her, as she has very few pictures of me. Sorry treacle... I figured I didn't want to overload you with Anderson before this weekend...
All in all, good times. At the end of the night, the McMaster contingent headed back to Vik's for a game that is suspiciously like Bullshit but with dice (Damned if I can remember what its called), and a night of, once again, very little sleep. But definitely worth it.
The morning saw us enjoying conversation, apartment hopping, attempting to watch Shaun of the Dead, and coffee in the park across the way. After bidding adieu to Aimee and Pete, I ended up going back to my apartment and attempting to sleep, but instead staring at the ceiling for the majority of the afternoon. I was shaken from my reverie with a phone call from Ryan and James, however, from the rooftop patio at Wayne Gretzky's. So once again, off I go to enjoy a couple of patio pints. James and I spent a lot of the time trying to convince Ryan that he's an academic. I don't think I've ever met someone who is in such a state of denial. I am pretty sure that by the time he is done next year, however, he'll be applying for academic jobs. They also spent some time trying to convince me to go to Cambridge to do a fellowship. It is tempting, I must admit.
I also got a phone call from a very, very drunk Michelle (actually, her phone call never worked... Vik had to call again because Michelle had forgotten how to use a phone... hee hee). So after going for Sushi with the boys, I headed over to the Tap to be greeted by drunk Michelle, KK, Vik and LMD. This lasted for a very short time, as I was hitting a wall and needed to get to bed. But at least I was able to say goodbye to KK... and will hopefully be able to meet up with her in London in November.
Monday saw me in a bit of a fuzz. Not much work got done. Christine, your code is almost done though. I promise. However, I had to shake myself out of it because... ATHLETE. Unfortunately, Michelle had to forgo the concert because she had the hangover from hell. Poor kid. She missed, what I would consider, one of the best concerts ever. They were unbelievable. The Opera House is such a great venue, and Joel Pott is such an unbelievable showman:
Yes, this is how close we were to front and centre stage. If you haven't heard them, please, do yourself a favour and download some. They are the next Coldplay.
And the one story I have to relate has to do with KK... when I picked her up from the airport last week and told her we were going to Athlete, she told me the story behind their single "Wires". "Listen to Joel sing it" she says, "and feel the emotion coming from him". I have heard the song many times before, but have never really listened to the words. It was written by Joel Pott for his daughter who was born prematurely. Now knowing this, and listening and watching him sing it live, I have never been moved by a piece of music as much. Both Vik and I stood there with tears in our eyes for the entire song. Do yourself a favour and download this song. It is stunning.
And so ends my week of Brits. Good times all around. Tomorrow its off to SanFran with Michelle and LMD, which should also provide load of blog fodder, so expect one hell of a post next week as well.
posted by Anderson at 7:17 AM
10 Comments:
I'm testing to see if I can sign in Anonymously
See, you can do it. I'm now going to create a different name for myself
And so I reveal myself! QED for the peeps that Psycho asked for. Anyone can post, I'm confused by the question.
Just what IS treacle? I keep reading about the tart form in Harry Potter, but the word sounds icky. 'Splain, please.
Yes...Joel singing Wires was one of the most intense concert moments of my life. If they do come back in the winter, do see them!
Yes, Anderson has it set for non-bloggers to post comments, but the other peeps don't.
Honey, treacle is a term of affection used by Cleavers and destested by KK...apparently it refers to a very sweet treat in the UK.
Treacle is a cake/sponge-like "treat" that is made with shitloads of mollasses (sp?). I have a can of it in my cupboard. I don't like it.
Mmmm.....molasses..can I have it?
Oh. Molasses sponge. Good times. Thanks for clearing that up. Save me a chunk, will you? I've got to try this stuff.
Your mother what?
Post a Comment
<< Home