So I guess a recap. The office is now full with humanity. I've had to trim my Unibomber beard and stop showing up to work with a bottle of cheap bourbon and wearing my housecoat and slippers. Also, I can't fart loudly anymore -- well, I should rephrase that -- I shouldn't fart loudly anymore.
Terry and Carolyn are very cool cats, though, and make the days sunnier and more productive. And that makes me Happy.
We got a little tipsy Saturday, singing some karaoke at the pub with Terry's squeeze Krista. It was hilarity. Some dude bought me a Kokanee for singing (read: forgetting the words and, thus, butchering) 'When the Levee Breaks' by the Zep. Chris sang some Billy Joel and 'Working for the Weekend' - you know, the song from the Farley and Swayzee SNL sketch,
It was laughs, but, call it the full moon, or the large gang of inebriated folk, for some demented reason, I felt this was the night I would choose to venture as far as I could into the dark side. So when we stormed the Legion across the street, it truly was take no prisoners time. We danced (I think?), we left (I'm pretty sure), we returned (so I was told). I remember spurts.
The Can took over Saturday, lemme tell ya.
Sunday is not worth speaking about.
Today and tomorrow though, are nose to the grindstone days, man. Believe it or not, the Canadian Forces and Coast Guard invited yours truly, along with a gaggle of other media from the North (and some nice folks from France, Japan and Switzerland) aboard two of their ships for 48 hours.
I'm more than excited... Ever since I landed, I've wanted to venture out of the bay and catch a little Arctic Ocean air. We get to change ships after day one, in zodiacs. I have no idea why, but it just sounds cool.
So I'll have some neato pictures in a couple days, I hope. Plus I'm trying to get cleared to fly out to Kimmirut on the weekend to shadow the Canadian Rangers on an Arctic Sovereignty exercise on the land. There have been multiple polar bear reports in the area the last couple weeks. That would be so cool to see one, but at the same time, if we did, odds are it would get shot up. So maybe I don't want to see one.
Quick story... (this is getting long and not very interesting at all).
In the last month and a half, we've built a pretty solid crew of ultimate frisbee players and over the last two weeks, a bunch of local kids (ages 10-14 probably) have started showing up to play. Now some of them dog it big time on 'd', but they're great kids, and it's neat to watch them learn the game, and where and how and when to move.
I stubbornly left $20 in my jacket and when the game was over... gone! poof! I'm not choked about the cash, but I'll miss the cool Nunavut flag money clip I pilfered from the Ledge that will no longer be clipping my meagre stack of fives to each other anymore.
Anyways, I gave one of the kids a ride home.
"You got any rap? Yeah, yeah!"
Funny kid.
Anyways, I couldn't help but be suspicious about my missing loot, but I sort of didn't think it was him. There were people coming and going all night and he'd been playing the entire time.
"Where do you live?"
"Let's just drive around."
I had to get some work done before home time. "Sorry, bud."
"Okay, umm... take a left. No, right."
He did that for a bit, and I caught on.
"Well, I have to get to work, so I can drop you off there."
"Oh, you work there?" pointing to News/North, downtown.
"Yep."
"Well, I'll get out there. I'm going to the gas bar." (down the street)
"I'll drop you off. The gas bar? Why you going there?"
"I'm rich!"
Oh shit! My ears perk up. "Rich, eh?"
"Yeah, I got $40!"
"Oh yeah?" I continue, very subtly I assure you, "Where'd you get all that money from?"
"My mom gave it to me..."
I was on the fence, as to whether I believed him or not.
Until he said this, without a hint of frustration or self-consciousness, as I dropped him off at Baffin Gas Bar: "...because she's going out drinking tonight."
It's a Monday night.
Damn. What do you do?
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