Festivities abound!

Oh joy of joys, its Christmas Eve-day!
Know what this means? Parties, family, friends and general merriment?

NO, bzzzzzt, wrong

It means today I will have teeny-boppers hopping in wanting to get all sorts of touchy-feely crap made for a last minute Christmas present. I may be only 19, but I already have a healthy dose of contempt for this crowd. I'm slightly hypocritical in these regards, considering one of my good friends is merely 16 (he's my best friends younger brother, but one of the coolest kids you'll ever meet). But that doesn't stop me, history is built on double-standards. Last year I made the mistake of being a bit to generous in terms of my time and effort spent on customers. As a result, I was at work for nearly 3 hours overtime. Children beware, the Braden will not be showing mercy today. Added to that I am going on vacation next week, and need to have umpteen million things done by 4 pm tonight. This means I probably ought not be blogging or surfing the forums at Worth, but really, would that be a healthy thing to do? I think not.

Last night I received news that our intimate family dinner tonight would be trespassed upon by my thirteen year-old cousins boyfriend. To which I replied with a resounding, WTF!? Of course, this did not please me, and I griped as much in Hyjinx last night. 'Tomi held that I was been miserly. I suppose I was. Maybe he doesn't have a good family to be with, and maybe if we are all welcoming, it will be the highlight of his holiday. Maybe it will take his mind off of his whiskey swilling mother, tossing bottles about the ramshackle apartment as she scrambles to find her bra, gone missing in a fit of passion with an as yet nameless bar fly from the local pub. Worn pots piled high in the sink, as if to suggest a T-FAL Tower of Babel. Daddy won't be calling on Christmas, cause he's busy 'consulting' with his new buxom (best word ever) secretary, memos and files flurrying through the recycled office air.

Sorry, where was I? Ahh, yes...

But its equally possible he could be Steven Price. My stomach wrenches at the thought. If ever there was a candidate for pointless medical surgeries...

Of course, my cynical musing are distracting from the overall cheeriness of the season. A warm fuzzy glow that even Elvis' worse Christmas carol could not dampen. Serious though, I am so glad he left the mortal coil. If he was still making songs, I would wish I was deaf. Its not that I hate his voice, the instrumentation for each and every Christmas song he ever wrote is a startling cacophony of brutalized festive melodies. Nat King Cole must be spinning in his grave.

Maybe you'd never know it from this post, but I am quite happy the big night is upon us. For all my bitterness, Christmas couldn't be a merrier time. In fact if you'll notice I'm starting to run out of synonyms for merry and happy, and their ilk.

So, Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Freuhe Weinachten, Chimchiminey Chiroo...

And all that jazz...

The etiquette of gift giving

Scenario: Christmas Day, my fathers house

I love my Dad, don't get me wrong. Nicest guy ever, nicer than me, even to customers, (now that's nice). Except he likes to get me ugly sweaters. And not just ugly, ones that are far too big for me. Now, I am by no means a specimen of masculine form, but people, I am no Fat Albert. I fit comfortably into decently form fitted things, not too tight, but not too loose. Frankly I find loose clothing makes me feel sloppy.
But I digress.
This is not a huge thing, except its a dilemma of guilt. Do I accept it and feel guilty because I wont ever wear beyond Christmas day. Or feel really guilty when I tell him I don't like it? The social ramifications of this situation are far reaching, as one can plainly see. On the one hand, I'll be wasting his money, and I don't want to do that. But on the other hand, I could hurt his feelings. Being one to not make waves, I'll probably just accept ugly sweaters and wear it on Sunday afternoons to make me feel better about myself. A win-win situation I feel.

In other news:

I feel like I've betrayed my childhood. It is now December 20th, and I have not watched a single Christmas Movie. This is serious blasphemy. I have long held that it is not Christmas until I have seen "Rudolph the red-nosed Reindeer" at least once. I love that movie, Burl Ives is my hero, only he could play a banjo and make it sound like a piano. As a kid I would dream about the Island of Misfit toys. Maybe it symbolized some subconscious feeling of isolation and yearning for acceptance. Maybe I just liked polka dotted elephants and Charlie-in-the-boxes. Who knows, the childhood mind is fickle and transient.

Just like you, Winona Ryder

Today Braden is Happy

No real reason, I'm just always happy Sundays. But today I just feel like I'm coming out of the funk I've been in for a while. Maybe its Christmas, maybe its the promise of snow and skiing (Should Mother Nature sort her crap out and delver us some snow. Yes you, you cold dirt loving harlot) maybe I'm just happy to be mentioned by KellenHeller in her interview. Yeah, I'm easily excited.

In other irrelevant to everyone but me news, at work we are getting a new printer/copier thing. This will make my life much easier. It's apparently going to fuse toner without oil. I'm sure for most that means approximately two tenths of nothing, to me though that means clean prints which is the number one source of grumpy customers. Something I think the world could do without.

Christmas is winding up for its inevitable brown climax. I don't believe I've had a white Christmas in six or so years, and everytime I get my hopes up when it snows in November, I just have my heart ripped out by the cold calculating heart of nature. Its not like its rocket science on the climates behalf. A little low pressure here, a bit of high pressure there and badaboom badabing, a less cranky Braden.

And in the end, isn't that what Christmas is all about ;)

Of Furniture and photographs...

One thing people should know about me is that I am far from mechanically inclined, especially when comes to woodworking. Sure, I can perform basic repairs to most small machines, but put a desk together with any degree of competency? You'd sooner ask the Klein government to not waste our money. You know those stories about doctors botching surgeries by misconnecting arteries and leaving car keys in patients? Precisely the reason I will never go to med school. Case in point, my new desk. For its relatively low cost I was pretty impressed by the quality of it; nice good wood, and incomprehensible directions, because we all know anything with a clear, concise assembly will fall apart if an ant looks cock-eyed at it.

So this contraption had maybe 15, 20 pieces tops to it. But could I put it together with ease? Please excuse my self-depreciating laughter. I think by the end of the ordeal I had taken it apart and put it back together twice and had stripped the screws faster than you can say "idiot nineteen year old". In the end it was standing and I had lost only minimal amounts of blood. Yeah, good times. At least it wasn't like the chair Colin and I put together one Christmas. I swear it was forged by Lucifer himself. At night I could hear it whispering its murderous intentions, and honestly, I think glowed as the fires of hell...just a little bit.


In other news:


The final round of our photography tournament over on worth1000 went live for voting on Monday night. I feel my team deserves an apology, because I only got two shots finished for the whole tournament, despite numerous promises stating otherwise. We won't win, in fact I'll be impressed if we make 3rd, but who cares? I had fun, made a few friends, and took some pictures. A win-win situation...well maybe not, but its was great nonetheless.

Begin the Christmas Panic...

I hate my brain.

Specifically, my terrible memory. I just remembered today, FRIDAY, several very time consuming and important projects I need done by sunday. I also work every day this weekend. Sometimes I wonder if my mind is plotting against me, or just find sadistic joy in watching me burn out ever so often. Sigh.

On the plus side, I've gotten to do more "work" at taking pictures. Our church wanted me to take some quick shots of everyone for our Christmas Dinner. It was a theme program (which I will go on record as saying was entirely ridiculous), and everyone was to wear bathrobes or towels to emulate the old style of clothing worn in Jerusalem 2000 odd years ago. All the families went around for an hour and a half with little bags of "money" and bartered and traded for food. A good theory, I suppose, but I was counting on endless amounts of stuffing and turkey. Needless to say, I was thoroughly disappointed.
But it was fun taking photos of everyone though. The light was terrible, and I'm much better at closer, more intimate shots. Let me tell you, families of 8 or more people are not conducive to that style of photography. It was fun but the photos came out par at best. But it was short notice, and I arrived late. Lets call it a draw.

I'm very excited, I got my Birthday/Christmas gift from my Mum today. Or rather yesterday, today I am bringing it home. Nothing too fancy, a nice small drafting desk to put in my room. Now, I finally have some place to read and draw, and at the same time, it can be set completely level, so it will double as a nice place to do photography.

Augh, why do all the cool things have to happen the weekend I'm so busy I could heave. And don't even try and make me think about the Christmas presents I owe. Well, a hermits life for me.
If someone sees me in#w1k hyjinx, yell at me, I should probably be painting or something...

I think I'm going to be sick...

I am by no means ultra-modern in my school of thought. You're probably not likely to find me at a cafe having polite nihilistic conversation over some ridiculous sounding drink. Triple Schotz Mocha Flippity Bean Muncher is not the name for something I want in my body. If the meal requires more time to say it properly than to consume it, I want nothing to do with it. Caramel Apple Cider manages to squeeze by purely because of the fact it is a monumental achievement in the history of mankind. Seriously. For me I think its the lunar landing of beverages. Its just that good!
At the same time, I'm staying as far away from the similar thinking of the retired farmers swilling their coffee at Smitty's, talking 'bout them good ol' days. I like to think of myself as a bit of a hybrid thinker. Definitely a family oriented man, strong roots in traditional values, but also conscious of the new world blah bah blah. What it basically boils down to, people can think what they please. I'll just find comfort in the fact I know they are wrong and often times stupid. I like things that way. I'm very internal.

But things like Ashleymadison.com make me foam at the mouth, just a little bit. In a nutshell, this is a dating website, except rather than finding matches for singles across Canada, this site will help you cheat on your spouse. A study showed that of all the Canadian user of online dating services, about 20% or one in five users admitted to using the site for finding extramarital relationships. At ashleymadison.com the percentage is about 80%. Honestly, does the world really need garbage like this in it? Every other marriage is going to end in divorce, why on earth would we need a service to conveniently provide a catalyst? One of the points the sites creator makes in his defense during an interview is that "people looking for affairs are going to have them anyways", the site just facilitates that. Wow, thanks for that. That's like saying "Severely depressed people are going to kill themselves anyway." But do we give them Ginsu knives with diagrams to the major veins and arteries? And the site projects profits of $7 - 10 million dollars. This really stinks to me. Especially around Christmas time.
Stupid me for thinking everyone in Canada are alright folks.

Christmas is Here!

If you'd allow me, I'd like to ramble on about my most favorite time of year.

I love this season. Christmas has always been very special, or rather, the build up to it. I love seeing our humble little mall all decked out in its Yule-tide finery, the city's downtown hung with gaunt, aged tinsel decorations and welfare-grade Christmas lights. Despite its resemblance to Christmas in a WWII bunker, Lethbridge is the only place I could ever fathom being for the holidays.
Of course, now that I'm well passed the rose coloured days of being seven years old and sitting on santa's lap, I find I really do miss the things we did year ago for Christmas. Traditions have withered away. I no longer see my extended family Christmas eve. In fact, the events of Dec 24 are largely in limbo until my parents decide to solidify them one or two weeks before. We don't go down to see the lights at the Brewery Gardens anymore (the city has cut back on the display, and I have no desire to go see dead plants and crappy wooden cutouts that the local gangs have pegged with bb guns, etc). The people that used to deck their entire lot as a sort of homage to every single piece of Christmas television have either died or moved or decided joy in the form of millions of electric lights was something they didn't feel like sharing. Actually I think we've all just forgotten where they live, I'm a bit of a drama-king.

Of course, I've started some of my own traditions. Now I can find gifts for friends and family. As much as I hate crowded stores (precisely the reason I stay away from Old Navy on weekends), I think there is something very awesome about people stuffed into thick jackets shuffling about to the tune of Nat King Cole and Wilson Phillips while they struggle to keep hold of their mountainous amounts of goodies. If you haven't noted yet, I'm a sentimental kind of guy. I'd like to have snowball fight with my dad and dance with my mom and snuggle with special girl-type-friends (could I find such a one) sooner than I'd like to do most things.
Also, skiing and playing videogames with my best friends during Christmas holidays (which sadly are non-existent now, Thanks responsibility) are great Christmas memories. You may not find gunning down your closest chum a cheery yuletide vision, but its frankly right up there with Christmas Morning and family dinners. Good times.

Chapter 1: Better late than never

So, hi.

This isn't my first blog, mind you, but it is the first one I intend to update and hang on to. Somewhere out there are the digital bones of old blogs posted once or twice and then forgotten. But insofar as I can tell, I have managed to cull a bit more commitment for my otherwise ADD ridden life. This means that for the most part you can all have a pointless window into my mundane little hamster wheel of a life. Never one to pass up a bandwagon, I figured it was about time I shared myself with everyone. Among random musings, you can also expect to find tales of my stupid customers and recordings of my heavily videogame/TV influenced dreams.
Have fun, but you've been warned.

my dimply mug