What time is it? CHRISTMAS LIST TIME, MOTHERFUCKERS!

That’s right. Get the pen and paper ready, cuz I’m only going to go through this once. If you’re seriously lazy, just go through raincoaster’s Amazon Wish List but you’re not, are you? You like it hard.

I do, in fact, have a shipping address now although for several opsec reasons there’s no point in attempting to SWAT me there. Like, I’m not actually there.

Here we go. Make sure your wallet is sitting down for this; we don’t want the loonies to fall, do we now? Pour yourself (and perhaps your wallet) a nice tumblr of something bracing and let’s begin, shall we?

No Place to Hide: Edward Snowden, the NSA, and the U.S. Surveillance State for obvious reasons. And no, I’m not going to torrent it.

Chanel 19 or Chanel Allure eau de parfum, or Christian Dior Dune eau de toilette. Or Casmir by Chopard, which happens to be 75% off right now. Hey, I’m easy. If you can’t decide, just get them all.

Fun novelty yarn and knitting needles to make a hat and a circle scarf, because all mine are still up in Penticton and I like knitting.

Cross training shoes and/or running shoes, size 8 1/2 and some workout gear. Technical pants, rain pants, thermals, that sort of thing. Because this “being fat” thing? I’m so over that shit.

Pierre Omidyar’s cellphone number. I’m gonna give him an earful about being on the payroll since July with nothing but zeroes beside my name.

Speaking of phones, a phone would be nice. Doesn’t have to be a new phone. But this iPhone 3 is not long for this world and I’ll need another mobile device of some kind. Of course, if I got Pierre’s number I would just tell him John Cook promised me a new laptop and phone, plus phone plan and rocket stick for unlimited internet and that would be that. Well, until someone tells John Cook anyway, but what does he care?

A pony. A Caspian Horse would do, but I might need a sturdy Welsh cob at least until I lose some weight. A horse would be an acceptable substitute. Plenty of room in the back yard here, and if the neighbors ask about it I’ll just say it’s my support animal.

A walking or workout buddy to make sure I get offline at least for one hour a day. Gym membership is not exactly practical, given I never know where I’m going to be from one month to the next.

Bubblebath, bath oil, bath bombs all accepted gleefully, especially any that smell like real roses. Put that $13 no name gift pack back on the drug store shelf, it’s not what I’m talking about. Love by Escents is just about perfect, and so is their Spice one.

Chocolate truffles, chocolate coated almond brittle, or the like are all gratefully accepted. Salted caramels too!

While we’re on the topic of comestibles, let’s discuss beverages:

Good quality coffee is a necessity, and as I have a Bodum coarse ground is what I need. Or a manual coffee grinder; I find the grinding quite soothing and I do it while going through my email in the mornings. It’s better for my adrenal glands than plunging right into reporting after brushing my teeth.

Armagnac, any Scotch that begins with L or B, The Botanist or Hendrick’s gin, or a fancy liqueur that mixes with a hundred things like Grand Marnier would make special occasions that much more special. I’m very tired of ordinary drinks. Very.

But ordinary wine? Whoooooooole other story. Bring it on. Merlot, Cab Sauv, Cab Merlot,  or some more unusual grapes would be great. Whites? Chardonnay, Sauv Blanc, or a nice dry sherry like Alvear’s Fino. For sparklies, I like Cava rather than Prosecco, and frankly can take or leave Champagne. That’s one expensive taste I never picked up, along with truffles, which I loathe.

Any old-fashioned or weird bar gear would be good. The Wish List has a ton of Reidel stuff, but anything that would be in James Bond’s bar cupboard would also do. Second hand or first hand. And what the hell, an Absinthe fountain would always remind me of the time Rebecca bought me an Absinthe at Clive’s after Social Media Camp.

When it comes to beer, I like anything but lagers and pilsners. My favorite, oddly, is Central City Red Racer IPA, but it’s a special case. Love Winter Ales, Dubbels like Grimbergen, any beer that tastes like fruitcake in a glass. Red ales are also on my favorites list, along with pumpkin ales. And do not turn your nose up at that pumpkin spiced whiskey from Spicebox; it’s actually quite good.

I could use some good pots and pans, particularly now that I’m not moving around so much and have a home base of sorts. This Calaphon Cookware set is just about the platonic ideal of what I’m talking about here. One thing I’ve learned from living in a dozen different houses over the last year: you can get away with cheap knives, if they’re sharp, but there is NO substitute for good pots and pans.

Fun scarves are always welcome, as are fun socks.

Cheeses, particularly blue, aged cheddars, California jack cheese, St. Andre Brie, or goat cheese camembert, along with some Carr’s table water crackers, would be very welcome. Why is there table water in the crackers? I’ve never known and always wondered.

Anything for the table made of silver would be awesome; silver plate is fine. By this I mean teaspoons, pickle forks, sugar tongs, knife rests, napkin rings, etc, etc, the more mismatched the merrier. I collect this stuff.

I also have a silver charm bracelet, and silver charms are el cheapo but still impressive. It shouldn’t be hard to find a charm that says something about me or something about you. How about this nice wine bottle? And it’s on sale!

A new backpack with a section to protect my laptop would be good. The one I have is several years old and although it’s holding up incredibly well, it has shredded parts on the straps. And of course high quality luggage would never be turned away, particularly a very large rolling suitcase. The ones I have with me are small, and you can just fit much more in one big one rather than three small ones.

A cosy sweater that comes down below my butt would be awesome; cardigan or not, I don’t care (size 18 alas!). Or a simple tunic top. In fact, now I’ve found leggings that fit, I might never wear anything else. Except my beloved Thuggies, of course, of which I would accept: The Grim Sleeper Zip, the Safety First, the Original Lumberjack in red because I already have blue, or the Peguin. In Mini Thug, as I have dropped a size thank GOD.

Come to think of it, Agatha Christie books would be swell. Most of mine were stolen by our neighbor when we lived in Richmond, and I haven’t replaced any of them. Still love Tommy and Tuppence and Miss Marple, though.

Can I think of anything else? A massage? A bathing suit, but you can’t buy that for me; it is impossible to successfully buy swimwear for a woman other than one’s self. FACT. Anything that makes travel easier or time off more fun would be welcome, basically. How I wish Greyhound had that “one year pass” deal in Canada. I’d have saved a thousand bucks this past year.

 

UPDATED TO ADD: who ARE these people sharing this post to Facebook? Well, they’re more ambitious than me, that’s for sure.

I’d also like a nice feather pillow and a new white sheet, the last one having been basically worn and torn to shreds over the past year. A new laptop (did I mention that?) and a portable bluetooth speaker. And meat; I’m not particular what kind, having had bear, venison, moose, and other exotics. Just: meat.

About these ads

So, I went clubbing…

Started out kind of meh, but things got better.

As you can see here:

I think I may go shopping tomorrow. Especially if it’s like this.

Bucket List

I have, for some time, suspected that my bucket list might differ substantially from those of other, lesser mortals. A swift peruse through the Bucket List tag on WordPress confirms this. 

AIM HIGHER PEOPLE!

I have no idea whether or not you have the capability to achieve higher aims, but just reading “go to Six Flags” umpteen times is fucking depressing, okay? AIM HIGHER. For me.

And now to my bucket list:

  1. Marry Prince Caspian
  2. Win Nobel Prize for Literature before 30 (nb requires time machine at this point)
  3. Capture and tame and break to ride a wild mustang, dressage optional
  4. Become the White Rahnee of Sarawak
  5. Have John Galliano call me a muse
  6. Make memorable entrance to Annabel’s
  7. Compete in a three day event
  8. See Bali from the inside, the way I saw the Bandas
  9. Have a good sit-down with Prince Bandar of Saudi Arabia
  10. At least once pre-empt Biella Coleman when the media asks for comment on Anonymous. Just once, come on girl
  11. Viggo.
  12. EDITED TO ADD: Wikipedia entry. How could I have forgotten?

#OpHippie: the wildlife situation

and igloos are the hard tacos

and igloos are the hard tacos

This should end well.

Last night on the way back to the cabin I’m pretty sure I heard the local bear. It’s a small black bear, nothing to worry about, but all the same unsettling at 4am. There are also apparently cougars about, which is more of a worry, as the cougars of Vancouver Island are the most man-eating big cats in the world.

Then again, I’m not a man, so what do I care?

There are also wolves, although I haven’t heard any, but I’m prepared for that. You bet. I got a tip on Facebook. All the natural world cowers in fear of having its secrets exposed in a random Facebook status update or comment, and for good reason. In this case, the tip, which appeared in my friend Janine’s timeline, is that to keep coyotes off your property, pee on the boundary lines. They can’t see your invisible fence, but they can smell it and go, “Whoa, hippie territory. Hippies. Why’d it have to be hippies? I hate hippies,” and bugger right off. I’m going to see if it works with wolves too. And bears. And rats.

Oh, the rats. The rats. The rats in the walls.

Well, I wouldn’t care so much if they would stay IN the walls; it’s when they come out and poop on my floor and counter that I find annoying. Every couple of days I find another rat poop somewhere I was about to put my foot or my hand, and since the cabin is only about 15 feet square, this is TOO MUCH. At night as I’m lying in my cosy sleeping bag in the loft, I hear them directly above my head on the roof, scrabbling around and chittering, so I drum on the damn ceiling to encourage them to move on and they momentarily stop what they’re doing before starting up again shortly afterwards.

Now, I know what to do with rats, but the fact is I haven’t got a pack of flying Jack Russells with frickin’ laser beams on their heads, so I’m having to make do. If I could find the holes they are using for getting inside the cabin, I could stuff them with steel wool and/or spare tinfoil (washed, so it has no food smells) and that would stop the buggers. The problem is, because of the trees and overcast weather, there hasn’t been enough light to SEE such things in the first place. Once the sun comes out I’ll get a wooden ladder and circle the outside of the house, pull the tarps off the roof and check under there as well, and look at the cistern behind the cabin too. Having checked the weather reports for the area, I expect that will be in May or June.

In unrelated news, I have accidentally left my iPhone at the cabin. This is bad because that motherfucker’s flashlight app is the best damn flashlight this camp has ever seen, and the battery only has 20% left. It’ll die tonight and worse: I cannot use it to actually get to the cabin. I have a weak headlamp instead that Shahee loaned me.

In other unrelated news, I’m starving, haven’t eaten today, and am off to the Best Western down the road to have a burger. I have heard their veggie burgers are good, so hopefully their beef burgers will be as well. Too lazy to walk into town this late; the place rolls up the sidewalks at 5, which was an hour and a half ago.

Still haven’t heard from the new boss about when I start. At this point forget an advance: a retroactive payment would be nice. And oh yes, I started a new blog. Can’t afford the custom domain this week, but hopefully next week I’ll be able to get one registered. With the Manolosphere going the way of the dodo, Manolofood.com is going to disappear, and I need a place for my foodie posts, a dedicated food/drink/travel blog. Will import the old posts and get some new content coming in the next few days.

#OpHippie: Day Seven

The Grand Haul

The Grand Haul

Well, there it is, as promised: The Grand Haul of my shopping trip.

  • Sorel Caribou boots with leather upper and removable felt liners which make excellent slippers for sitting by the fire: $99 plus tax.
  • latex-coated gloves for working in the cold and wet, plus cowhide gloves for working in the cold and wet with sharp edges and splinters: $20 for both pairs.
  • two pairs of socks which are apparently an historic line of socks from which comes the original sock monkey pattern, which I cannot use because I used the cardboard as a fire starter last night, $20 plus tax. Yeah, expensive, but feet are important. Feet in boots need the right socks. First night I was wearing those fuzzy synthetic socks that are so cute and warm and they formed a velcro lock with the boot liners and I nearly gave myself an injury getting my boots off. With these there are no such problems. A wool/cotton blend, I believe, thick enough to protect against blisters.
  • One bandanna. I would hate to live in the wilderness in the far West without a bandanna. It would just be wrong. I think this was like $7 or so.
  • One pair hunter green velvet jeans $4.98 minus 30% at the till because they were on clearance. At an original $80-some-odd dollars, no shit they were on clearance! But saving an extra buck and change was nice. It was, in fact, hilarious.
  • One pair clay-coloured twill jeans/work pants. For working. Because cold. Wet. Pointy. The woods are all these things. I think they were $9.98.
  • One pair denim jeans with some stretch to them. I dunno why I bought these, actually. I tried them on the second day I was here and they were too small. Couldn’t zip them up. Can now, though! In fact, I can put my full fist into the waistband of the twill jeans, at right angles to my waist. I’m gonna need a belt soon.
  • One Vicky/Christina cocktail at Little Jumbo, about $17 with tax and tip, but no way was I going to be in Victoria without seeing my friend Janice for cocktails at Little Jumbo.
  • Two bags of groceries purchased en route in Nanaimo. It was a Save On, if I’m not mistaken, and it cost $80-something, which, living as I have in Chinatown I am not used to paying, but I didn’t have that, so I put the peanut butter and the Vanity Fair back and then Mme Metro bought me the peanut butter anyway and my bill came to $69 and yes, I had enough for that with like three bucks left over.

So that’s the haul that my esteemed donors bought for me. You know who you are, and I cannot thank you enough.

From the sounds of it, my friend Brenda will be coming up-Island soon bearing fresh bedding for me (Shahee has loaned me an awesome sleeping bag which keeps me so warm some nights I don’t light a fire at all), plates and cups and the like, and some camping equipment to make life easier. Another very kind person whom I met on Twitter has bought me a Swiss Army Knife, destined to be useful every single moment of its existence. And tomorrow the newest arrival to camp is going to see about putting a window into my cabin; he’s handy with construction projects and mechanical items and may even fix the starter on the Beautiful Bus.

As distinct from the Magic Bus, which is an entirely different modified schoolbus a little farther along the trail. No, I’m not kidding.

The workshare here is about two hours a day, six days a week, which is not onerous but has a great deal to do with why I’m losing weight. Okay, so does having to walk two miles to the liquor store and not having any money when you get there. And the amount of meat I’ve consumed this week is: two bison sausages. Period. Otherwise, my protein comes from cheese, lentils, and free range eggs (no chickens here, but wait for it). And I’m not eating much that’s been fried, not even eggs, and the condiments I use are limited because I have to carry them in here from town: sambal, peanut butter, ponzu sauce, soy sauce, Major Grey Chutney which can render even quinoa edible or almost, and that’s pretty much it. Got some pasta, got some peppers and onions, got some rice noodles and quinoa and all the bloody kale you could ever eat.

The work itself is things like: breaking up tiles rejected from the factory, turning them into gravel, and spreading them in the potholes. Cutting up the tree trunks in the woodpile to manageable chunks. Bringing deadfall wood into the woodshed to dry out so it can become kindling. Picking up the garbage left behind by overnighters etc and cleaning up campsites in general in preparation for spring, working on the occupancy agreement (which I have been avoiding as it is already 41 pages long and I’d rather work on a simplified version, but the consensus model means a geometric increase in paper every time you make a change of any kind), breaking down and moving the old, full latrines and setting up new ones using the humanure composting system. It’s pretty basic: you have two pails. One is full of sawdust and a scoop. You put a toilet seat on the empty pail and do your thing in it, then you cover that with sawdust. Eventually it turns into compost.

When I was talking about coming here I thought what I’d be doing was basically setting up systems for workshops and marketing those workshops to whoever…and there are a lot of people interested in this sort of thing. We have people here who can teach, people with skills. We’ve got some musicians, we’ve got a civil engineer who can design shelters for people (who can then build them as part of the workshop), we’ve got Shahee who can teach raw vegan food preparation and do massage and lead yoga and meditation, we’ve got surfers who can teach, we’ve got me, and the new guy in addition to being a competent mechanic is also a tai chi instructor.

Yet.

At the moment, Symbiosis Ecovillage is a concept and an agreement but not yet a corporation, nonprofit, or registered society. So all of that is up in the air until some sort of legal framework is in place. Yes, I can work towards putting that legal framework in place, but there are things I’d rather do.

Like sit by the fire and share some Jameson’s with my friends.

Like go down to the beach (which I’ve done only once, and I am ashamed of myself for that).

Like do a hike on one of the local trails. Like take a kayaking tour of Clayoquot Sound. Like build my own rocket stove and hot water system, and install a thermal converter so that one little wood stove can give me power, heat, and hot water.

Not that there aren’t other distractions nearby in the great metropolis of Not-Ucluelet.