Would you like to make a soldier out of your son Ted?

This weekend hurt.

But not the same way breaking a leg hurts, so this isn't the second installment of my examination of pain (to follow...).

Strangely, this weekend hurt for a lot of reasons. Firstly, I had 4 going away parties to attend. Two for me and two for people I care about.

Party No.1 - Kinda sedate; wasn't overly fun. It almost seemed like it was happening because it was expected, not because anyone actually wanted to be there. A couple of drinks; a little hurt.

Party No.2 - Small, but intense, this was the going away party for GARH!. He is an old colleague and good friend who is moving into my old role at my second last location. He is very good at what he does, although sometimes he doesn't think so. I got to see a bunch of people I used to work with. All of them getting older and wiser and farther removed from when they needed me. A bunch more drinks; a little bit more hurt.

Party No.3 - Big and rather raucous, this was the going away party for J. He is also an old colleague and good friend who is moving into the role I am now leaving. He is being replaced by GARH! (everyone follow that). Once again, I got to see a bunch of people I used to work with. In a moment of self doubt, I took the opportunity to talk to 'Col about my failings as a manager. She gave me a lot to think about. One more drink; a bunch of masochistic self-examination.

Sleep.

Last day at work.

Party No.4 - All about me. Took a bunch of my staff to my local, 'The Tap' and listened to the DJ. It was a remarkable showing. I didn't expect to see all of those that appeared. A couple got lost on the way and for that I am truly sorry. It was just a last minute change. Sorry. Drinking ensued, followed by a quick game of 'Peter's Feeling Old and Sentimental So You Need Advice' (If you liked it, I insist you try the home game. Fab!). The night unfolded and a group of us went to the Dance Cave (Team 3 is away!). We danced, as promised. Leo had fun. I drank too much. Britt proved she was a miracle worker with a marker. Julie went to an event. Elliot got a stern talking to. Rachel played trivia. I was a little disturbed by some things that I saw. I don't think I could have imagined a better send off. Lots of drinks; a whole lot of bittersweet emotions.

The next day was my only day off. I went to work, cleaned out my desk, transferred some files and shared a bunch of sheepish looks and pained goodbyes and walked out the door. No drinking;a small snap! as a piece of my heart fell off.

Something glorious is about to happen...

So, in a fit of self examination and boredom, I have secularized the definition of a monk.

This is how it turned out. Go figure.

monk (mŭngk)
n.
- a male living in a place devoted to seclusion and devoting himself to contemplation, work and earnest requests to a higher power.

The old bastard left his ties and a suit...

I am not a violent person. I think I have struck maybe 3 people out of anger in my life. Which, for a boy who drinks, is probably a fairly good record.

Today, I felt like pounding someone's face in. I was actually standing in front of them and the only thought going through my head was an image of me cracking them in the face. I don't think I have been that angry in years. I remember thinking to myself, "Calm down. Do not raise your arm. Do not make a fist". If you ever think this and feel like you actively have to send these thoughts to your muscles, you know you are angry.

And it all had to do with dealings I have had with the provincial government.

In my line of work, to vent, we often make fun of how idiotic people can be. The greatest gift provided by spending time in the service industry is a real appreciation of how to behave to get the most from a customer service provider, mostly because a sort of empathy occurs with the provider. Today, inspite of how I was feeling, I walked away. I wanted to lean across the desk and strangle the person I was dealing, but I took the high road and moved on.

Having to deal with government service people, I have finally realised that government doesn't provide service. I was always a little amused when one of my business professors delcared in class, staight faced, that he hoped none of us would ever work for government, as it would be a terrible loss. Now I understand.

Government isn't organised to provide service. Unfortunately, competition is the only motivator when it comes to the service industry. It is the only thing that breeds intelligent service. And except for the odd rare individual, government knows nothing about competition. Their hours, their staffing, none of it is actually based on providing the things we need.

The worst thing is that I never think like this. I like big government. I am horrendously left when I think about the 'safety net', but when I think about the service I get, when I need it, my only response is to outsource it all.

Is that wrong?

Everything looks perfect from far away...

I have recently had another change in my work life. When I say another, I mean I am about to land myself in a new role for the fourth time in a year and a half. On Monday, I take control of my own team. I become the big cheese who is ultimately responsible for millions of dollars of sales revenue and about 50 peoples' work futures.

To all of those people that asked me, in the last couple of weeks, how was I doing. Well, I think it is starting to sink in. I'm a little scared, but I think I will be fine. Everyone just remember to think positive Peter thoughts or pray, which ever works best for you.

On that note, I need to say a couple things to a few of the folks I have left behind over the years...

Miss Julia and your beau, who I shall only refer to as K-Rock, have fun this weekend. You guys are great together so take time to enjoy it all.

Pol and Sarah, your turn is coming. My only advice, just stop calling and hanging up. No seriously, stop it. Oh, and Pol, it was all for the best. ;)

Garh, my dear fellow, you're on your way now! Try not to make the mistakes I did, but don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. I'll try to join you on Friday. Give the good ones props and the bad ones grief.

'thena, it'll get better.

J, you old issunboushi, they are a good bunch and I know I don't have to ask, but take care of them.

Red Fish, don't be so hard on yourself. You've got it together, just give it some time and it will all fall into place.

Jules, Embry, Justin, Lester and anyone else I forced into throwing a party for me. Yes, I will show.

It might be a little biased, but at least I spelled your name right.

Life has the habit of taking the strangest twists. But then again, so is life.

Yesterday was my friend, Bryce's, birthday. He turned an ungodly age , but he did it in style.

Some of you may remember Bryce. He appeared, ever so briefly, on I Love Meatloaf. He was the one driving the school bus to hell, God love him.

Anyway, Happy Birthday Bryce!! You deserve every joy you find and than even a couple you may have missed along the way.

PS
Yes, I changed the template. Life is all about change. Why would anyone expect anything less?

Remember when we were young. young and hesitant...

what matters is they have no one to answer to.
they are what I want. forever and ever.
a smile to kill for; a brain to match.
two perfect souls, doing what is expected.
enjoying youth.
no one expects more
no one expects less.

You don't meet nice girls in coffee shops

Courage is a remarkable thing. It takes an awful lot to take that first step. And to that one person that has to take that step it always seems like stepping off a cliff into a blackness so scary it actually makes it hard to breath. You just want to shut your eyes and cry until it all goes away.

But let's look at the other side. If you don't choose courage, ultimately, you are going to have to settle on regret. It is all that remains when the cowardly path is chosen. Regret is simply the shame of letting yourself down. Of not taking the path of growth; of not steeling yourself for the unknown, an unknown that is never as bad as you imagined. And regret gnaws at you. It eats away at you all the while filling that newfound empty space with just more regret. The only thing holding it at bay is the self-satisfaction associated with taking the high road. By being courageous.

The thing I fear the most is conflict. Screaming, yelling, anger, physical violence, it all scares the hell out of me. Personal human conflict frightens me. It has forever. You would never guess this by looking at me or the career I have chosen. I have been told I am imposing, even intimidating, but playing 'bad cop' truly scares me.

Now, not to say that this fear hasn't served me well at times. Being frightened of something does provide an heightened awareness to its antecedents thereby allowing one to avoid the resulting something. I don't know how many times I have avoided dangerous situations simply because I could sense a change in a person's demeanor. But this is a minor silver lining to a very dark cloud.

Recently, I had someone in my life that truly helped me without, I think, even knowing he did. He forced me to become a more active participant, to not shy away from those dark places. He wouldn't let me get away with avoidance and for this I wanted to thank him. It wasn't that he was my saviour. No one can be that for another person, because, ultimately, the will to change comes from within. We all have to face those dark places alone, but there is nothing wrong with someone standing behind you, telling you to keep going while aiming the flashlight.

Step to the rhythm; Step to the rhyme

My favourite time of day is between 3 and 4am. It has been for years.

I think I was 18 or 19 when I first realised that I was a night owl. Night owls are misunderstood. People who aren't night owls never understand the idea that maybe life continues after 'bedtime'.

It is a little weird for night owls, as well. They don't have the easiest life. Always being accused of being lazy because they sleep late; having a hard time getting routine things done during the day, like passport photos or paying bills. Strangely enough, I think the internet was initially harnessed by big business to tap into the night owl market. But I digress.

I am a night owl and I love 3-4am. The city sleeps at 4am. Some cities sleep heavier than others, but it isn't hard at 4am to actually feel streets that have been put to bed for the night. In St. John's at 4am, it is quiet. There aren't people on the street. The odd cabbie drives by, but, all in all, the streets are asleep. Side streets more so. You can walk down the centre of the road, enjoying a perspective, generally, not available during the day. Rarely, you will come across a window projecting the intermitant blue flickering of a TV screen or hear the music held close by the remnants of a party to remind you that the city hasn't been abandoned only moments earlier, but mostly all the houses sleep. Sometimes you catch yourself thinking, for a moment, that they all have been abandoned and you are alone. The last. And other times, you stand and try to picture who lives in each little house. Who are they and what do they do?

It is a little different in Toronto. The major streets never sleep. Buses run. Cabbies slow and barmp desperately looking for fares. Some businesses stay open late while others open early. Both need people and people need to get to work. But the side streets, the quiet residential roads, they are in deep sleep. Row upon row, street upon street of quiet dark houses. No sign of life except for the occasional light. People don't walk the side roads, preferring the light and trafiic of the streets that never darken.. It actually boggles the mind, the thought of just how many people are asleep at the exact same time. Mothers, fathers, children; each darkened doorstep holds someone at 4 am and most of them are asleep and dreaming. About what I wonder?

Shout out!

Just a quick shout out. I found this the other day. It seems that Chewbacca has his own blog. Everyone knows my fascination with wookies, so have a look.