george's blog

By cellar.door

"You can see my brain"

I fucking love this group.

Under the freeway II, 3rd Street, originally uploaded by heather.

Posting to Vox from Flickr is all up and running... so I thought I'd take this opportunity to direct you to one of Mrs Heather Powazek Champ's gorgeous city diptychs.

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

(Wow - suddenly got really ad-y around here.)

I met a dude the other night. He wrote me a testimonial for my Flickr profile. My question of the day? Would you publish this at your place of work? True as it is?

 I just met george and i'm already intrigued. That, combined with the following, makes her tops:

1. she can drink
2. she swears as much as i do. i'm pro-profanity.
3. she's australian but can do a mean american accent. she can even do a marina girl accent!
4. she's australian
5. she was already giving me shit within an hour of meeting her. this is a good thing.
6. she is one of the founders of flickr.
7. she is friends with whileseated
8. she's having a party on xmas
9. she smokes
10. she can really drink

I never knew I was so live-fast-die-young!

What is your browser's default home page set to?
Submitted by Kelev T. Cat.

Depends. At work, it's about:blank, because I like having a clean slate to start from. At home it's waxy and his links, because I don't!

If you could get someone in your life to start a blog, who would it be and why?

My sister. And I quoteth thusly:

Well slap me down and call me Rosemary, I'm back in Vancouver. And I must say, of all the places to come back to, this is a very good one.

 

I've just spent some quality time with Emily Trott.

Allegro Mon Trott.

Trottyana Booberini.

The Old Slapper, and haven't we had a bit of an adventure?

We met in Seattle, and, yo ho ho the jolly roger, it was good to see an old mate indeed. We stayed in a tremendously swanky hotel, right by the market in the throbbing hub of town.

 I saw a man busking playing a real live 3/4 size piano. With strings and everything. It was on massive wheels, and he had fashioned a little nook for his stool to tuck away, all nice and kentucky, and then off he'd roll, to the next lamp post.

I think he had devoted all his time to carpentry lessons and nowhere near enough time to his piano lessons however. I mean, Fur Elise is really a pretty tune, but we don't really need it 32 times in a row, with all the same mistakes in the same spots every time. Carpenters shouldn't play jazz. Simple.

 

So we fiddled around a while and ate and drank and be'd merry.

I had booked us a hire car on the interweb. Searched around a while and found a deal that seemed too good to be true. Snapped it up, pressed the confirm button and cabbed on over, laden with all our gear. Turns out, it was a little too good to be true - we weren't supposed to have been able to book any car under the conditions we booked it - an interstate one way rental. This company just doesn't offer that service. Period.

As I handed the guy the confirmation email I had been sent, his poor face fell, and he said that he knew what had happened, and while it was not company policy to do the interstate thing, it WAS company policy to bend over and pull a ripe juicy orange out of your arse if the customer wants you to. Nice. Happy with that. So the poor bugger then has to drive us to the airport to pick up a VERY SWANKY CAR indeed, with Canadian lisence plates, and drive off into the wilderness. 

So there's me, sitting there like the Cheshire cat, feeling like I had just bagged the deal of the century, beaten the system, cheated the internet at its own game. Sure, it was a computer glitch from their end, but you can still call me Catherine Gates if you like...

 

We trucked on down to Eugene in Oregon, to stay a couple nights with some dear old friends of mine and it was lovely to see them after way too long. First house I had been in for a while... I didn't have to unwrap the soap before I used it, and I got some sugar out of a bowl, not a shitty paper packet. Luxury indeed. Patted some cats, did some washing, cooked, laughed etc etc. We were having such a nice time I thought it would be a good idea to stay 2 nights and truck it down from there to San Francisco in a day. Sure, it would be a fairly long day, but... time was of the essence and all that.

So we set off, refreshed, and with the cutest little packed lunches I have ever seen (thanks mom), and headed out for the coast through the redwood forests. Oh my golly, try to do that drive if you are ever there.

If you like trees.

If you aren't that partial, stay well away.

 

So we were making good time, maybe to even land in San Fran before it got dark, which, from a navigational point of view, would have been splendid news indeed,

Then we arrived in Eureka, California.

The traffic was thick. It was approaching rush hour.

Trotty was driving, and made a wise desicion not to cross a crowded intersection, but stop on the orange and wait for the next turn.

Mathew Garner was not of the same mind.

Mathew Garner, in his infinite wisdow of about 16 years, assumed he could get through the intersection and sort of didn't see, or maybe didn't care that we were in front of him, in our swanky car with Canada plates that we sort of weren't supposed to have. He plowed into us, in his daddys pick up, with enought force to ping open the glove box and shower me with CDs and rental agreements, but not enough force to either injure us at all, or deploy the air bags.

We got a terrible fright, and the car got an even terribler one - the back end just sort of crumpled. We have some wonderful photos. So we then met the lovely Junior Constable Janice, of the esteemed Eureka P.D., and we think it was her first ever traffic report to fill - we sort of nursed her through the experience, and I peeled some of the paint off the back of our car to bring back and show the folks at home. And I was very rude to Klyteesha - the Dollar rent a car lady in Washington. Well, she was rude first. And I had just been in an accident.

So after pfaffing about there for what seemed like 60 years, we stumbled out and hobbled the rest of the way to San Fran, with the breeze whistling through the boot of the car, through one of the many large crumpled holes. We made it, after nearly 14 hours, nearly 1000 miles, and 1 car crash, to Georges house, and, I must say, I don't think I have ever been more pleased to see her.

 

Played in San Fran, drank beer (you would have been proud of me Jade), including in a pub that sold only beer (worked that one out after I ordered a vodka, and was stared at like I was asking for a lobster thermidore or if I had a tulip growing from my ear), went to a big street fair in Haight Ashbury with all the tye dye, walked up very many steep hills, and then down them, built a bed for Georges neighbour,... you know, just putzed around, Then Trotty left and flew to New York City (imagine that), and felt a bit like my arm had fallen off for a minute after our big adventure.

 

Then me an George flew out to Vancouver, where we are now. I caught the first flight of the day, after waking up at 4am to get it. My cab driver on the way there liked to either be driving at about 90 miles an hour, or be stationary. He chatted away happily the whole way there, and I didn't understand a word he said. He spoke with a sort of thick Jamaican/Southern USA drawl, all about some guy at the dispatch office I think... Lets just say I was fully awake by the time I reached the airport.

 

Here now, passing time and trying not to spend any money, while George is at a super cool conference called Vid Fest, I am walking about the hotel, surrounded by very cool and famous internet people, trying to look like I know I should be here, and I do understand it all aswell (secretly hoping someone asks so I can talk about the great Dollar Rent A Car internet scam I pulled...), waiting for Sunday, and the beginning of my whole clan meeting, and the WEDDING OF THE CENTURY.

 

Everone OK?

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Well, I didnt exactly *meet* her, but I was walking along Homer Street in Vankie one day, and who was coming the other way, but GOLDIE HAWN. She is one of those mythical Hollywood creatures for me. A little piece of Cactus Flower starletnessosity. And let me tell you, she looks pretty good for however old she is... I didnt say anything or put the shoulder in or anything, but felt chuffed nonetheless. 

Actually, that was one of a quite a few moments that helped me realise I was somewhere other than home.

Turns out Vankie is quite the place to star-spot.

...Make it so my most recent Flickr photos show up automagically?

This weekend i'm returning from a lovely long week of living on the beach, watching my brother get married, drinking, sitting by huge driftwood fires watching the brightest stars I may have ever seen, spotting 4 Orcas in the wild ocean,going kayaking in gorgeous surrounds spotting 4 eagles (yes 4, all at once) in the wild trees of Tofino - one of which ACTUALLY SWOOPED DOWN ON A FISH IN THE WATER, recovering from a whirlwind party session at the Slap & Tickle in Vankie... what a week.

And now, I wash some clothes, climb back on the Internet, and catch up on time passed in my absence.

Lucky it's all written down, eh?