Category Archives: Vancouver

What Did You Do Today, raincoaster?

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Desert Island disc-less

via fleetfootedfox

Nothing much, just:

Posted:

Discouraged a half-dozen or so people from attempting to pull the broken glass out of the door of the office and break in. I have some powerful stink-eye. A junkie kicked the glass door in the other day, but we have bars too, so even if you did scabble with your paws and get all the broken glass and the glass patch and the vinyl patch out of the frame, you’d just be stuck standing there looking in, only with you’re own blood all over your hands, and wouldn’t you feel stupid then, eh?

Watched an old lady get helped out of her wheelchair so she could root around in her bag for her crack pipe, and then watched as she dropped the pipe and the burning crack onto her slipper socks and then tried to suck the crack out.

Declared a moratorium on talking about dead people. Until BusyBeeBlogger pointed out that would give VanityFair nothing to talk about, so I said it was okay as long as the people were dead, fabulous, and not of my circle of acquaintances. Which describes most of the people they write about to a T. Or even an I.

Read Gawker and got depressed.

Pre-posted for the next couple of days. I’ll have to do a linkpost and something for TrueSlant Monday, but otherwise can take a day and a half at least off without feeling guilty.

Realized that, of my top ten posts, only one is less than a year and a half old. And got more depressed.

Self-diagnosed (probably accurately) with this fancy new, imported death fungus (25% fatality!). Have to get myself back to the doctor; maybe I should just camp there? I have every one of these symptoms INCLUDING the one only reported in animals so far. And I’ve had these symptoms for two months now.

Dealt with the post office, the bank, the other bank, Fido, the Sister, the Shebeen Club event on Monday, and American Apparel, who apparently wishes to send the Manolosphere some shoon.

On the plus side, when I go over to Victoria to speak at WordCamp Victoria, they’re putting me up at the Fairmont Empress. Yes, you may now envy me. Oh, AND the afterparty is going to be a gin tasting at Clive’s with a representative from Victoria gin and perhaps another gin which hasn’t been released to the public yet. Gotta hand it to that Dutch Courage: it works. There I was snarking about how you could use the stuff to strip paint and BAM! They ping me on Twitter and offer me another sample to see if it hasn’t improved. That takes courage of SOME kind, for sure.

Victoria gin is the third gin company that’s offered me a bottle, but it should be noted that Beefeater hit me up on Twitter and offered, but never actually came through with the goods. Bombay, of course, did. Not that I keep track of these things.

I submitted my blogs to Zemanta for consideration for inclusion in their devastatingly clever little linking system.

I offered up my services as a linkblogger: if I’m going to spend two hours every two days doing this, I might as well resell the end product: doing so will actually increase the value of each link, as it’ll be coming to any particular post from an increasing number of blogs. So, if you know a gossipblogger who’s got better things to do with his/her time than read and link, let me know. The more people who buy the service, the cheaper it gets.

Checked and re-checked Google and Bing for why they’re not indexing Lolebrity properly: I think it all comes down to this topless Helen Mirren photo. Hell, I even photoshopped out the nipples AND covered them with @ signs: what do these people want from me????

And, of course, did this post.

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New Look for Northern Voice

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Longtime Northern Voicer here (That’s the Northern Voice blogging conference, May 7-8 in Vancouver) ; I’ve attended the conference every year but one, and this year I’ve busted into the dizzy heights of the presenter’s list, which certainly puts me in the upper 50% of attendees. Yes, when it comes to Northern Voice, me luv it longtime.

But…

Is it just me, or does this thing:

Northern Voice Mascot, PedoBearMoose, yo!

The official Northern Voice mascot

Look like this thing:

Pedobear

Pedobear, the one and only!

Now, Kris said something about having some sexblogging workshops this year. I’m just not sure this is the very best way to draw an interested crowd.

Northern Voice Get Your Moose On

On WHERE, goddammit? And how do I get him off?
Oh wai- NEVER MIND!!! I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW!!!!

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coworking at BOB: re-open for business

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Coworking at BOB lounge area by AHA Media

As guests of yesterday’s Net Tuesday event or last month’s Social Media Club Vancouver panel will have noted, the gorgeous coworking gallery at BOB is open for business once again and looking for hot-desking cultural creative nomads in search of a home.

The space is enormous, and includes:

  • 15′ ceilings and art-ready walls and display cabinets (got some paintings you want to hang? talk to us)
  • keyless, secure entry
  • secure bike storage
  • access from 9am till very, very late (ie whenever I go home, which is generally not before 6am)
  • large kitchen area with microwave, fridge and freezer
  • private lockers
  • robust wireless
  • a funky polished concrete floor
  • hot and cold filtered water thanks to Wa2
  • projector and smartboard
  • cleaning service
  • rosewood desks and cushy ergonomic chairs
  • a social lounge area with a sofa, armchairs and an extensive window seat
  • two washrooms, one handicapped-accessible
  • space for (at maximum) 25 creative ninjas to work at any given time
  • in the heart of Chinatown and just blocks from Gastown
  • handy to Skytrain, buses and excellent pubs and restaurants
  • literally next door to a Waves cafe, if you’re already addicted to their coffee!

And, of course, the fabulous company of your peers. And me.

Sheng High by Trimpin

This is what the coworking gallery looked like during the Cultural Olympiad, when we had an exhibition by the sound sculptor Trimpin.

If you’re a recovering or current civil servant and prefer PDFs to all other forms of communication, here’s our downloadable flyer. In fact, why don’t you print out a couple of dozen and pass them out? No? Okay, maybe just one for the staffroom corkboard?

We’ve also been featured extensively in blogs, other blogs, other blogs, coworking blogs, on Facebook, on Flickr, and the mainstream media.

How much will this glorious work environment set you back? Only $200 a month, less than half of what Workspace used to charge. Half-month trials are also available, for $100. If you’ve got a small company and need multiple desk spaces, we can work something out. And we are available for special event bookings, subject to availability and usage. Talk to us.

We’re looking for do-gooders, writers, tech workers, SOHO ninjas and all variety of interesting, creative people who are looking for something more copacetic than a cafe, more professional than the dining room table. Give us a call at 778-328-7664 or email raincoaster at gmail dot com and we can show you around.

Here we are a few months ago, under construction:

Coworking at BOB gallery view by AHA Media

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Win a Date with raincoaster

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Shakespeare Got to Get Paid, Son

Only your taste (or is that “tastes”?) can say whether a date with raincoaster is a prize or booby prize. As you know, we’re all about the boobies lately around these parts. These specific parts, that is.

My parts are superfine, if somewhat bruised lately, just ask anyone who’s seen them, which includes you if you clicked on the link (you just went back and did that, didn’t you?). And they and the rest of me will be going (thanks to an invite from the generous and omnipotent Rebecca Coleman, publicist to…productions successful at getting pimped out on raincoaster.com and Twitter) to the West Coast premiere of Eugene Stickland‘s play Queen Lear at Presentation House Theatre. Want to come as my date? It’s easy (unlike me).

All it takes to win is to post the comment that I think contains the funniest literary joke. Tasteless is extra points, Shakespeare is extra points, King Lear is extra extra points, tasteless King Lear jokes posted by Kenneth Branagh are an automatic win. Sorry, boys, I have a weakness for blustery Irishmen.

Queen Lear at Presentation House

Queen Lear at Presentation House

Life Lessons and Sh8kspeare: Queen Lear

NORTH VANCOUVER, BC: Presentation House Theatre, in association with Western Gold, are pleased to present the West Coast premiere of Eugene Stickland’s Queen Lear. The older generation has much to teach the younger generation about theatre… and life. Or is it the other way around? Queen Lear runs March 25-April 10 at Presentation House Theatre.

An accomplished aging actress, suffering a dearth of decent roles for older women, is cast in the title role in an all-female production of King Lear and, terrified that her memory will fail her, employs a young girl to help her memorize her lines. Text messaging meets iambic pentameter in this amusing and touching story about courage and the strength of spirit. Both women struggle with fear, loss and challenge, illustrating how time and experience both separate and unite them. This new play, featuring celebrated actor Shirley Broderick, newcomer Jennifer McPhee, and acclaimed cellist Peggy Lee, is not to be missed.

Western Gold Theatre produces outstanding professional theatre that expands horizons and enriches the lives of mature artists and their audiences. The company offers powerful role-modeling, creative opportunity and active engagement to a rapidly growing senior population and provides inspiration to diverse generations of theatre lovers. Artistic Director Colleen Winton is particularly interested in creating mentorships between senior artists and emerging artists and sees this play as a wonderful opportunity to celebrate what the generations have to teach each other.

Queen Lear is part of The Third Street Theatre series. Founded in 2005 by Artistic Director Brenda Leadlay, The Third Street Series is the banner under which Presentation House Theatre (PHT) presents and produces a professional season of plays. The vision for the series entails a fusion of accessibility and artistic risk, in order to achieve a season that is appealing and marketable but challenges and educates our audiences about new artistic practices.

Queen Lear previews Thursday, March 25, and opens Friday, March 26 at 8 pm. It then runs nightly (Sunday evenings and Mondays dark) through until April 10. There will be weekend matinees on Saturdays at 4, and Sundays at 2. All performances are at Presentation House Theatre, 333 Chesterfield, North Vancouver (3 blocks from the Seabus). Tickets are $24 for Adults, $22 for Students/Seniors. All tickets are $2 more at the door, and $2 more on Friday and Saturday evenings. All seats for the preview are $12.

For tickets or more information, please call 604.990.3474 or email boxoffice AT phtheatre.org.

www.phtheatre.org

We’ve done this sort of thing before, so you know how it works: no complaining that it’s arbitrary because…well…this is a dictatorship, and when in the history of the known universe have I ever hesitated to be arbitrary? Deadline is noon Friday, and don’t expect me to phone you: mah Jeebusphone has gone AWOL. I’ll hit you up on email or Twitter.

You know what to do, so do it in the comments. And for god’s sake, clean up after yourselves when you’re finished!

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Spring Forward: and throttle someone!

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Harvey?

Harvey?

Blah, blah, blah. Oh, they’re all “reach out and touch someone” right up till you try to put a personal spin on it, like in my headline, and then it’s “oh, somebody needs a little time-out!”

Yes, she does. And she would like to take it at a hotel on Mustique, thankyouverymuch. You know where the Paypal button is.

In related news, apparently I function as a human voodoo doll, and the doctors at Mount St. Joseph’s are actually using me to get back at award-winning actress and international star Marion Cotillard. Behold:

This is what they did to me:

The Damage and yes, it hurt about as much as it looks like it hurt like

So, that’s about four inches long and three across at the widest part, and a week later it looks much the same. Those dots you see aren’t pores: they’re where the freezing went in. Over and over and over. And yes, it still hurt.

and this is what happened at the same time, somewhere in France; coincidence? Hardly likely!

It's just a little prick. I mean, he's not GREEK or something

As MichaelK reports over at DListed:

While being awarded the Order Of Arts And Letters in Paris today, the French Minister pricked Marion in the chichi and pretty much made her nipple bawl blood tears.

The poor woman has tried to protect herself the only way she knows how: by getting in some spares.

Marion Cotillard is just being sensible

I shoulda thought of that myself.

I wonder what she did to piss off the boob docs? Other than stick with her original, home-grown set. I mean, she’ll never get anywhere in Hollywood with those measly flesh pimples!

In any case, and only tangentially related to the above, I’d like to bitch about my new doctor for a second. God knows what happened to the old one; perhaps he was shanghai’d by the Meerkat Army in an attempt to learn the secrets of Operation Global Media Domination (what, whaaaaaat? I’m perfectly sober! Why are you looking at me like that?). That would explain why the hematologist who was on the case the year I had to take off work to battle Hodgkin’s Disease is also missing. Perhaps they ran away together? Won’t their wives be surprised!

So both the doctor I’ve been going to since shortly after puberty and the doctor who treated my cancer have vanished in the last year. And my new doctor is a lovely, lovely person with execrable taste in office decoration (think Dolores Umbrage by way of Olde Russia) but, apparently, absolutely no juice in the medical community.

Socialized medicine works like this, in case you didn’t know (this is where the “social” part comes from, not really the payment system, no matter what they tell you): your doctor needs to refer you to a specialist, so s/he calls up the ones s/he knows socially or who owe him/her favours and s/he gets you in fast if, in his/her opinion what you have needs quick action. And what I may have includes The Big C, and I am something like three years overdue for my checkup.

And I have been waiting since October for a referral to a hematologist, which is entirely too long. When I needed a biopsy the first time, it was a week’s wait and then the head of St. Paul’s thoracic surgery performed it (leaving, may I say, the faintest scar the universe has ever seen; the man is a genius with a scalpel). I mean, I know it takes time to get an appointment with a specialist, but they haven’t even booked the appointment, which is typically six months out from the time of bookage. I’m about ready to take up a station outside the Burrard Medical Building and ambush the next person I see coming out of there wearing expensive shoes, just on the off-chance they’re a specialist.

Oh, and the clinic that set up my tests of last week promised to get the Cancer Agency to set up another biopsy, and it’s been a week and I’ve heard nothing. I mean, it’s not like their calendars only go two weeks ahead. Time to give them a ringy-dingy, methinks, before I have to stalk the Cancer Agency too, and who has time for that?

I mean, my time is valuable. More valuable to me than theirs is, quite frankly.

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