I mailed GB jr to my sister in Fiji today. I seem to have lost my camera for the moment, but I took some pictures with my phone. I’m sure the fellows at Kinkos thought I was completely bonkers. I asked them: What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever been asked to send? They said they were once asked to send meat–raw meat–from the butcher. That was the weirdest. One fellow motioned with his arms outstretched, like he was placing a side of beef on the counter or something. They had to tell the fellow that there would probably be issues with sending raw meat in the FedEx. In that context, the guy shrugged: GB jr??–Not so odd.

He doesn’t even suspect…	…nestled inside…
“…all comfy cozy are we…”	He’s off and away!!

So. Today, GB jr starts his big adventure. Off to the Fiji Islands for a bit. He’ll travel with my sister on her escapades. When she is finished in Fiji, her friend Catherine will take him on her backpacking travels. I think she’ll be visiting exotic places like Easter Island and sorts. How exciting. My plan–although, Catherine doesn’t know it yet–is that she finds another traveller before she goes back to Canada. She’ll hand him off to some other traveller who’ll take pictures and send them back for me to post. And that person will hand him off to the next, and so on.

Isn’t that a rather random idea? GB jr will travel the world. He will be Yukon Jen’s official correspondent. We’ll get stories from around the globe. Original stories. Real stories. That’s the most important part–that the stories are real. You have to say who you are and where you are and you have to tell us stories about what you see. Whoever you are out there–see the original entry for guidelines about the bear. I’m sure I’ll be updating them.

Redd, his tracking number is 8494 9252 4451 at fedex.com. He’s due to arrive Tuesday, 29 August 2006. Keep us posted.

I make my coffee on the stove top. My friend from university (Ann) married a fellow from Croatia and they now live in Whitehorse, Yukon. Ante (Ann’s husband) taught me how to make this coffee. I think, however, it’s all in the routine of making the coffee and drinking it that makes it so pleasurable.

When I lived in Healdsburg, I bought my coffee at the local coffee house: The Flying Goat. Now, I’m in Petaluma, I buy my coffee at Deaf Dog. Quite honestly, I prefer coffee from The Flying Goat although, I can’t tell you a specific reason why. Maybe, maybe, it’s because the people at the Flying Goat look a bit more hygienic or something. I buy a kilogram of coffee and I ask them to grind it really fine. Ante says to grind it as fine as talcum powder. I noticed this time, my coffee isn’t ground as fine as I need it to be and Ante’s right. It needs to be fine–talcum powder fine.

I have a little stainless steel pot with a long handle. If I fill the pot up with water, to a particular point, add two scoops of my talcum-powder-fine coffee, I get a good two cups from it. So that’s what I do. I fill it up and add two scoops of coffee.

Now, here’s the tricky part. Turn on a burner–I am lucky enough to have gas burners (immediately hot, immediately not). Bring the coffee to a boil. You have to watch though. As soon as the coffee boils, it over flows. The key is not letting it overflow, but to boil at the brink for about one minute. Then settle for one minute. Then boil again for one minute. Then take it off the burner and let everything settle. Let it settle some more while you are getting the ice cream ready. Yes. Ice cream in the morning. It’s so decadent.

I love French vanilla, but on the odd time, I might have mint flavoured. You decide. I think if you like ice cream, you could probably use whatever you like the most that compliments the coffee flavour. I put a small scoop and a bit in the bottom of my coffee mug. Then I pour the coffee (grounds and all) over the ice cream. The grounds settle to the bottom so you don’t end up drinking them. And, if you do, well–it’s added texture. Textured coffee. Yum.

Now, here is the very important part, take your mug of coffee outside and sit on your balcony, porch, patio, front steps or where ever your outside space is. Drink your coffee and watch your world start their day. When your first mug is done, go back inside and get your second cup. Repeat.

Mmmm…mmm…

And, if by any chance you are planning a trip to Whitehorse, Yukon, you can stop by Ann and Ante’s La Bicicletta Bed and Breakfast to try out the real recipe yourself.

Here is something from my archives of blog starts. I think I wrote it last October before Zebulon’s turned to SoHo. My friend and former neigbour Carol would point out that I haven’t really gotten anywhere in a year.

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Livewire is a literary salon hosted every Tuesday night at Zebulon’s Lounge in Petaluma, California. I go sometimes, hoping to become part of a greater community of writers. I end up just being part of the greater community of drinkers. I arrive around 7h30. The first person I see is the contractor who thought it was totally appropriate to take over one month to do a three day job at our rental and at the end of it all, wash his underwear in the washer and dryer AFTER the new tenants had started moving in. What am I supposed to say to him? I move on.

Talk a bit to Jake, the bartender. He is doing a Masters in Psychology at SSU. Also, he is collaborating on a screenplay with various other Zebulon contributors. I ask him how that is going. He says nothing happened over the summer.

The fellow sitting next to me is introduced at the mic. He reads a story about wanking off to bare breasts in the movie Leprechaun II. How personal. How universal at the same time. What heterosexual male wouldn’t wank off to a free pair of bare breasts?

End up talking to Leprechaun-movie guy. During his reading of wanking off to whoever’s bare-breasts appear in the Leprechaun movie, he mentioned that he is working on his Masters of Philosophy. We talk about post modernism philosophy. When it started. What are the significant historic events that define the period? What period are we living in today? Who’s defining it? From which perspective do you define it? I tell him what my friend (in a pub in Ireland) once said about the USA and what a photojournalist from Southern France said about the USA. How these totally separate and different people essentially said the same thing: That the US (as a nation) acts like a rich, spoiled, insolent teenager. Somehow the US believes that “they really can change the world, and they believe in the life force of the planet, and admit that somebody’s killing it–but it isn’t them.”

The photojournalist guy in Southern France said that the rest of Western Civilization is simply waiting for the US to grow up realize that it needs to help itself first. I added that I believe the social fabric of the US is so deteriorated and frayed that it is almost beyond repair. How can you not see that by denying basic levels of public education, you are essentially inbreeding stupidity? I end up convincing myself that they can’t see it because they choose not to see it. Because they somehow think they it is their job to save the world and that it is their responsibility to take care of other nations without first taking care of themselves. And–as much as I could blog about how the entire nation of Canada doesn’t want to deal with its own insecurities caused by its Leviathan neighbour (and I will another time), I could blog that the US–as a nation–is simply one, big, codependent entity.

It’s the same old story–just on a grander scale. Focus on larger, external issues so you don’t have to face the real pain of identifying and dealing with internal issues. In fact, run around denying that you even have issues. It’s easier to just blame other nations or other groups or other people for everything that appears to be wrong instead of simply doing your own personal, introspective homework.

I am sorry Leprechaun-movie guy. I really enjoyed our conversation. It turns out though–for me–it is easier to identify with an entire nation denying codependent behaviour than it is to identify with wanking off. How sad it that?

I am invited to go to the Ujena Bikini Jam. Not to model (as if!). Just for fun though. It would be interesting I think. It would definitely make a good blog story.

My friend Waitman (the very generous soul who gave me this blog) writes the software for Ujena.com. He is also writing the software for the judging at the jam so that there are real time results. I think he’s awfully brilliant. As far as writing software goes, bikini jams seem much more exciting than SONET, SDH and Ethernet–lucky man.

I can’t go however, as my friend from Ottawa is arriving that same weekend. I’m going to show her around the Bay area and wine country and hopefully, convince her to stay for a bit.

Maybe Waitman will send me updates or interesting stories I could post–just to keep it interesting. He could be the correspondent. I think though, he will just be too busy with the events to be bothered.

Tony Beckerman said:
August 1st, 2006 at 2:36 pm

“The “Simon Brush™” looks like it was originally made by a company called “Bobbie”, who makes Bobbie Pins etc. That particular model was probably discontinued many years ago.”

So, for all you people out there who have stuff from 25 years ago, check to see if you have a “Bobbie” brush. Maybe we can help Tony get his replacement brush for Simon.

I wore my Tabarnac t-shirt today. It’s like I’m going around swearing at the world. That’s exactly how I feel. Today.

One day at work, a colleague and I were talking and he said that he didn’t see much difference between English Canadians and Americans. We were the same culturally (pop culturally–I’m guessing). I know the differences because I live them everyday. The primary difference is though, I grew up in a Canadian state. It doesn’t make me less Canadian that I’m temporarily making a living in the States anymore than if I picked up and went to France for a few years.

Anyway. I’d bought my Tabarnac t-shirt from Montrealite.com last year. I wore this t-shirt to work the day after my colleague said he didn’t see much difference. He doesn’t know the difference, but I do. I swore at him all day long and he didn’t even know it. Somehow, in my odd way, I found that funny.

I’m wearing this t-shirt today though, because I’m just pissed at the grand state of affairs in my world. It’s a release–a silent scream so-to-speak. Somehow, I just feel better running around with a swear word on my chest.