Bad Movie Night

Greetings

You know its the 21 first century when, not having access to Facebook on your phone is a bigger issue then not having their number. Yesterday over Facebook I was invited over to a bad movie afternoon. This was a far better alternative to an afternoon spent playing uninspired Minecraft, which was where I was headed on my own. I google the street address find it close by and hop onto Viking 1 and ride over.

Soon after I leave the thought crosses my mind that I don't know, how to reach the suite once I get there. I know from experience that suite number and door buzz codes at apartment buildings are not always the same. I did not have the phone numbers for any of the friends I knew there, they are on my friends list. This lead me to make the opening observation. This was a non problem on this occasion thanks to a 20th or earlier century technology, a note taped to the door containing the need to know info.

The bad movie showings included, Howard the Duck, a film along with the Farside might have affected my world view of ducks. If those slices of media were not enough to cement ducks in your mind as odd animals then go and read this dead duck day.

The movie event was also a cleverly hidden craft circle, with the host alternating between making a piece of scale mail arm and the kitchen with the two people I knew working tamer beading projects. It was suggested that I try to make something creative out of a bunch of colourfull aluminum chits and some metal rings. Being asked to be creative has about as much of an effect as running up to some one and saying "Quick be witty Now!" I decided that I was going to make a frame close to the size of a piece of paper, that way I could have a reference point for any thing more creative I might try.

Try would be the operative term. In the binary speak of Yoda, this was a definite "Do Not". The notion was that I could with the aid of pliers twist open the steel rings pop on the aluminum chit and close the ring. Steps one and two no problem. Step three, which after my first batch of chits fell off their rings was demonstrated for me was an other matter entirely. It turned out that the bits I was trying to link together were thin enough that any meaningful gap in the steel ring would be exploited and squeezed through. A proper fitting therefore needed the steel ring to a closed ring.

I tried I really did. Brow furrowed like a 5 year old might trying to colour between the lines (apologies to any 5 years olds). Sweat on my furrowed brow. For my troubles I had no more then three aluminum chits strung together, and a few bent and twisted steel rings that despite my best efforts still had the better part of a milli meter gap in them. I had given up before the end of Howard the Duck.

The next movie was Dead Living, a Zombie comedy directed by Peter Jackson. The movie climaxed with a nearly operatic finally involving a lawn mower. Some where during the evening I tried on his home made chain mail vest. This vest was made with a heavier steel wire then what I was playing with and was created using the same method as I had failed to grasp. I felt that one must try on chain mail if one has the chance.

The mail was comfortable, no chafing.

The final movie was a Lovecraft story, something Dagon. It was an odd anachronism to watch a movie stored on VHS on 42ish inch LCD TV. Part way through the movie some one showed up at the house. I did not hear what she said as to why she was there. It became clear that she was there to employ the hosts dwarfen skills in metal work.

As I was awaiting the gory death of the protagonist, and anticipating the appearance of a tentacled elder god, I could hear the goings on in the back room.

The when some thing like this

Ting, ting ting.

Wurrr wurr wurr.

ting ting ting.

A few tings and wurrs later the host came out of the back room and was seen entering the hallway with a hammer. The end result was that I was able to see a woman ware a chain mail and leather top, which does not happen everyday. Nerds I thank thee.

The Fancy Stuff Why I Cook It

Greetings.

This post has been simmering in my head since friday morning. I can no say why a brief chat on the street with a friend I did not expect to see in my neighborhood precipitated this but here it is.

If you know me on Facebook and you do if your any one you will know that I get both compliments and flack from food. Compliments from the few items I share with a lucky few friends and flack from the rest of the times when I was the only person to eat it but enough of a bastard to share it on Facebook. Though I would not call my food gourmet I do try to stretch my boundaries and have fun at it.

So the why of it. Firstly I just do like food and enjoy the experimentation and the act of both the cooking and the eating. I got raised in a home where improvised meals and variations on themes dominated over fixed recipes. This provided the seed for the try any thing as long as its not too complicated attitude I practice.

Secondly I spent a long time being functionally homeless. I was not a bumm, but from June 2006 to August 2010 I did not have a place of my own. From June 2006 to October 2008 the majority of my time was spent in the exploration camp at Discovery NWT. I certainly had the means to keep a place but with 6 out of 8 week spent in a camp there was no sense in it. After my a lay of I spent the tail half 2008 and much of 2009 on a cabin at the folks place. The cabin had minimal facilities but the absence of well plumbed sink turned me off cooking in there. I did some cooking during this time but it was not my space and its never easy cooking in some else's kitchen. This is where my first really sucky breads were made, the failures that lead to successes I have made more recently.

It was not until BCIT residence that I felt my cooking take off. Here at least the small slice cupboards was mine and the house had a good cooking culture. It was also under the pressure of the GIS program that I really started to value cooking as stress management function.

That brings us to now. Now I have my own place, simple basement suite in east van near lots of good shop. The unit was attractive to me the moment I walked in, it had a large kitchen, to be frank the main room is almost all kitchen. This was a pleasant contrast to the kitchen as after thought I had seen in other places. So now at last I can. But why do I and why the fancy stuff. Simply put I get bored.

Since completing the GIS program at bcit I have had an off again on a search for full time work. I have head my finances together with the fruits of two contracts, neither of which represent a direction I want to move in. The lack of steady work and a desire to feel I have done something leads me to cook and develop fancier dishes. The satisfaction of making a new bread or pasta work provides some of the satisfaction. Its a form of problem solving and creative expression.

Something I learned last year is something I enjoy. The one job, an unpaid practicum, that I enjoyed most of all was working for ESSA technologies on some software solutions. I did spend a great deal of time over my head and had to pick the brains (BRAINS!) of the team a fair bit, but I had fun. It was hard work often with my head banging against a mental wall but when I got things and managed to write some code and test , and eventually make it work it felt good. Cooking is easier then that but there is a similar satisfaction in making things work and building from scratch.