Where isn't Waldo?

It's one of those days. I'm a little late for the entire day, you know, for life, but strangely ok with it. I sit here contemplating going to the gym, and I know I will, but not until I make a small entry. A warm yellow sunlight filtered in through my window all morning. I thought "It's warm out today - nice". I glance out the window and see what looks like a little milkweed seed fly by. You know, those little fuzzy guys with the seed cargo dangling precariously below, hoping against hope like a hot air balloon out of hot air that the wind will take it to a fruitful destination. My heart falls as I see another, then another. You know this, it happens all in less than a tenth of a second. You see ten of these in one second and then you know: it's fucking snowing out.
Don't get me wrong, I like snow. I like to ski, I like to walk in the snow, I like to throw it at people, I like to take pictures in it, I like to look at the flakes that make it up, I like to make lists of reasons I like snow. But snow is like popcorn. This is a wierd analogy, because I don't really care for popcorn, but most people do, so I think it's appropriate. Snow is like popcorn, one little flake is nothing but a frustrating, annoying tease that leaves a funny taste in your mouth. It makes you wonder, was that stale? Was that worth it? Did I actually want that? You have to have a pile of popcorn. You have to have so much you can't see the depth of the bowl or bag or cupped palm that contains it. So it is with snow. Don't give me ten flakes, I'm not having fun till I'm surrounded. So until that time, here I sit dreading it like wading in to cold water that's about to be balls deep.

The other night (sunday) Graeme decided we were going to have a party on Halloween (Tuesday). We managed to get a pretty good turnout considering the short notice we gave and the busy night it was. Oddly we all left and waltzed right into Doogie's - no line - right afterward. It was a good time, some fun costumes, and Graeme's friends are a cool group of people which I have the master plan of assimilating into my life as my own friends. Don't fight it Graeme's friends, resistance is futile, you will be assimilated. So there's not much to write other than this. Business as usual. I'm tutoring these days. I got 4 people asking me for help, somehow my name got put up on the tutor connection website again. So now I tutor 2 people, 1 in physilogy and the other in chemistry or biology, depending on the day. Yeah - chemistry. Yikes. Rats came in 2 days ago. Going in to see them today, experiment starts saturday, that's all I'll say about that for now.

So last night Graeme, Derek and I went through the pics from the party. My god we had a blast. Their friend Jordan pulled a little prank without telling anyone about it, taking the risk that it would go unnoticed. . . His costume was Waldo. And I don't know if he had this plan all night or if he came up with it after he arrived, but our friend Kath loves to take pictures on these nights, which is good because I stopped doing that long ago. Waldo decided, ever so discreetly, that he would appear in the background, as Waldo, of as many of these pictures as possible. We were too drunk to notice, but last night as we looked through the collection of shots we were rolling in mirth. Waldo is in about 30 of the pictures, and 22 or so of them he's not even looking at the camera, because no one knows he's there. I made a collage to document this, and I'm contemplating decorating a wall of our house with only these pictures. Striped toques off to you Jordan, you got us.

It is well worth clicking this to blow it up so you can see the individual shots. If you want to see the collage, well hell, just come over here.

Also, I talked to Bob today and he is in Rome. Nervous about whether or not his flight with Malaysia Air is going to leave Vienna on time or not, and it's a hassle to find out from where he is. He says he has some awesome stories he might log and send out tonight, and I suggested a blog. That way he could write the emails there instead, and people could read and link to them any time. He said he didn't have time. This is bull since it takes the same amount of time as writing the email. Let's vote on whether or not Bob should start a blog. I'll vote first.

Even if you don't know bob, but you want to read fun stories of european travel, just vote. Even if you don't know what I'm talking about, vote.