Nature seems to want me to stay right where I am and never go anywhere.

On Friday, I had planned to meet some friends east of dowtown, so I figured I would drive to the GO station, take the train to the city, and then take a streetcar the rest of the way. The trip should take a bit over an hour; no problem.

Unfortunately, the problems began very quickly. First, I missed the train, and since the next one was not arriving for another hour, I had to drive down to Kipling station to take the subway. This wouldn't have been so bad if the subway train had not sat and waited for ten minutes doing nothing for no apparent reason at two of the stops along the way. When I finally reached my stop, I found I had missed the necessary bus by a few minutes and had to wait another twenty for the next one to come by. I arrived at the pub an hour late after a frustrating two-hour commute.

The problems didn't stop there, however. We spent a bit longer at the pub than I had been expecting, and when we caught the streetcar back to the subway line, I found the subways had already been closed for quite some time. A $25 cab ride got me from downtown back to Kipling station so I could drive home. In retrospect, I guess it was better that I had missed the train at the start of the evening, because a cab ride from downtown to Clarkson would have cost me a pretty penny.

Already weary of leaving the house again, further problems ensued yesterday evening when my car suffered a flat tire, and the jack - which should have been in the trunk - seemed to be missing.

So my timing with transit seems to be quite a bit off, and my car now has a donut wheel. I'm certain that next there will be a tremendous snow storm and all public transit will be shut down.

I'll just stay in bed and sleep it off, then.

I was up until 3:30 in the morning wrapping presents yesterday. I cut my thumb a number of times tearing tape. I was drowsy all of today from lack of sleep. But, that was OK, because that warm fuzzy Christmas feeling started to creep in; That satisfying feeling that there's a method behind the madness and a reason behind the ritual.

You live for those moments, and the moments make life worth living.

Getting your Christmas shopping done early helps too.

The powers that be have finally decided to recognize Spudles' Cup Of Noodles as the wondrous land of yummy goodness that we here all know it to be, but, alas, only a third as yummy as they feel it should be. While the cups of soup served here may lack snazzy, flashy, heavy-download gourmet special effects, my particular brand of brew is ripe in abundant tastey content, ready for hours of pleasant casual dining.

Also, my site makes the best use of chickens.

My spoils: 50% off my next Contiki tour. Now that is pretty darn awesome. Sweet. Cool. Bitchin', even.

Now I need to find out if my empty bank account can afford to pay for the other half of the tour, the flight, extras, etc. The only problem with prizes like this is that, while it saves you something like $1000 on a trip, you have to pay three or four thousand that you weren't planning on spending in the first place.

Donations are welcome, of course. Perhaps a telethon website is in order. It worked for Karyn, and my cause is much more worthy than that of that fiscally irresponsible little twit. "My name is SPU, I'm really nice, and I'm asking for your help! You see, I have this HUGE desire to go to Australia and I need $4000 to pay it off. So, if you have an extra buck or two, I just ask that you send it my way!"

At the very least, if I were to have an "Accolades" section of this site, I could add "Best use of a chicken on a Contiki Travelogue". And, when it comes right down to it, that's what everybody's really aiming for, right?

Right?

Note: If the "a third as yummy" link asks you in what country you live, pick one, and then try the link again.

Meet my new friend Maxx. He is the building operator at our office. He's a friendly fellow, does a good job around the place, and makes appearances at company events like this week's Christmas luncheon, but I suspect he rode the short bus as a child.

Ten days until Christmas, and the weather seems to be practicing so it can make sure it's a white one.

I enjoy snow and all it's white fluffy glory, but this is the first time I'll be driving as part of my commute to work during the winter. Small little fragile cars and snowy roads don't mix very well.

Last night I received what was one of the most intriguing crank call I've ever gotten. I'm not sure if it was because the two pranksters were very good crank callers, or very bad ones. Rather than dialling a random number and belching over the phone, or faking phone sex, or claiming that they were from the lottery commission and a novelty check for three million dollars would be mine if only I would jump around and scream like a monkey, they instead asked for my name (which they drew from the phone book) and then proceeded to simply chit chat. It took a little while to confirm that I didn't know the girls on the other end of the line, but even after the fact was established, we chatted for another ten minutes or so, out of pure amusement. Their names, addresses, associates, and sexual orientation changed several times throughout the conversation, but otherwise, there was very little prank to it. If their goal was to come up with a hilarious prank call, then I think they need some more practice, but if they simply wanted to chat with a random person, then call again; we'll have virtual tea and crumpets and discuss the oddities of the universe, like world conflicts, the commercialism of the holidays, and the widespread preoccupation for Bobbleheads.

I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you

I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you

The boys of the NYPD choir
Stood singing Galweh Bay
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas Day

Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more
Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang your shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

Handing out presents to a family of 39 people when 9 of them are little kids is always an adventure.

So this is christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
A new one just begun
And so this is christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

A very merry christmas
And a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the tree tops glisten and children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
With every Christmas card I write
May your days be merry and bright
And may all your Christmases be white

Now Joseph and his wife, Mary, came to Bethlehem that night
They found no place to bear her child, not a single room was in sight

And then they found a little nook in a stable all forlorn
And in a manger cold and dark, Mary's little boy was born.

Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas everyone, and God bless.

My God.... It's full of shoppers!

After seeing the mayhem, chaos, and sea-foamy goop that is the hoarde of shoppers at Square One on Boxing Day yesterday, I have concocted a list of simple and easy-to-follow - yet essential - rules for making anyone's Boxing Day shopping experience at least a partially tolerable one.

1. Don't Drive. Take the bloody bus, walk, skip, parachute, anything; just don't drive. It's not that there are no parking spots, it's because there is such a mass of people coming in and out at the same time that it takes half an hour to get through one intersection due to the fact that you're waiting behind someone trying to make a left turn into a parking lot, but the traffic he is trying to cross is blocked by the traffic light ahead, and when it turns green they can't move anyway because someone is trying to turn right, but there are too many pedestrians crossing the street.
2. No Children. Children do not purchase items. Therefore, they take up valuable space that could otherwise be used by someone improving our economy. As well, they are slow, which causes congestion, dart hither and thither, which leads to accidents, and whine and yell all the way about the stuff they want and never get because the little rugrat doesn't deserve it, not to mention the fact that the kid has three back at home and is wearing a jacket branded with that toy right now.
3. Strollers should be considered dangerous weapons. They take up the space of two economy-improving shoppers, make wide turns, and damage the merchandise. As well, I am quite convinced that strollers stick their wheels out and snag passers-by when their owners aren't looking.
4. No strolling, meandering, or leisurely sauntering. The hallways in malls are meant as a route from one store to another. There is nothing to buy or browse in the halls, and taking anything other than the most direct route to your next destination causes tumbles and frustrations for those of us doing their shopping properly. The only reasons for stopping in the middle of the hallway are if a child runs into you (but children are banned anyway, so this should never happen), if your foot gets caught in a stroller (but strollers are nonexistent, so this won't happen either), or if a lovely young lady catches your eye, particularly with something sharp, like a coat hanger.
5. Don't go to Wal-Mart. This is for your own good, not mine. Hundreds - maybe even thousands - of people from all races of the Earth shouting at each other in all languages of the Earth as they toss their strollers asunder and their children knock all the DVDs off of the shelves and tip over the bins of scented bath soaps, all the while the employees shout at each other over the P.A. trying to make sense of the chaos.

If everyone followed these simple rules, I would have been out of the mall an hour earlier, and I wouldn't have had to go postal on that Jewish couple that flooded me with putrid-smelling bath soaps when they knocked over the bin with their stroller while they were simultaneously yelling at their child to stop throwing DVDs and fighting over the last on-sale Carlos Delgado bobblehead doll.