My Company Wants to Party All the Time!

Tonight was the official “open house” for employees of EAC and their loved ones. It consisted of some live music, two free drinks per person, and a cornucopia of candy and pastries and chocolates for all to enjoy. It was a nice way to show off their new hundred-million-dollar offices, and we took a bunch of Pixy Stix and I ate a lot of jelly beans. I really do like the new place — it’s very spacious (which is unusual for EA) and has a lot of outdoor seating and beautiful views of Burnaby. Like my girlfriend said, though, it’s too bad I don’t love my job. But I’ve gone into that in past posts. There is an amusing story about how my real girlfriend and my pretend girlfriend (a girl at work whom I’ve got a crush on) and myself ended up in an elevator together during the night. Actually, that’s the whole story. Maybe it’s not so amusing. Hey, not every post is going to be shits-n-giggles.

That’s hot.

It’s really, really hot here. Pitt Meadows is often the hottest part of the GVRD and today is proof: a high of 34 degrees, with a humidex rating of 38. Humidex, for those who care, is like the wind chill factor but for warmth and humidity. I think our apartment, as I write this, is probably still in the high twenties. And it’s 10pm.

To close some loose blog ends, my dolly saga has come to an incomplete end: Paypal cannot help me and the seller has never responded to my harassment. Thus the opportunity to use the phrase “hello dolly” shall not come to pass. As for the parking ticket, it was selflessly taken out of my hands by our production coordinator at work. I thanked her profusely and also admitted guilt and shame for treating her like a babysitter. It must be a tireless job looking after the sausage party that is our business unit.

Finally, I met with the actual writing team at EA Worldwide. I think it went well, and I definitely got a kick out of being almost universally known as The Lunch Guy. However speaking with my host for the afternoon made me realize that I’m grossly underskilled (or undertrained depending on one’s pessimism) to be a writer. I’m not saying I can’t do it — I’ve definitely pulled the wool over many peoples’ eyes by holding down my current role as Interface Designer — but it will be a challenge if I’m to make this dream come true. It’s interesting to feel that spark of interest and desire to push myself into something new, something that pretty much withered away and fell off like a bobbed Schnauzer tail over the past year or so. But I’m excited to have the opportunity to do something new, and I’m confident I can do it well.

Oh, and last night two cop cars and an ambulance visited our apartment complex at around midnight. We got up in time to see them cart someone out on a stretcher. Yeah, living here is great.

More Complaining!

If the parking ticket wasn’t bad enough, I’m also dealing with what seems to be a deadbeat eBay seller. I ordered (bought) a, erm, action figure … okay, a dolly … in April. It was supposed to ship that month, and I emailed in May about it and was told it was delayed. So now June is almost over, I’ve probably waited way too long to get my money refunded by PayPal, and I’m without my dolly. Grr! I want my dolly, god dammit!

You’ve got to be kidding me.

So as I get in my car to come home from work, I notice a paper on my windshield. I get out and grab it — behold! A parking ticket! In the parking garage at work! Unbelievable. Turns out my parking pass, made of flimsy plastic that broke months ago, wasn’t on my dashboard. Never mind the fact that our parking garage is secured and gated, and that I’ve parked in the same stall for the past two years. No, I am obviously in violation of the super-important parking rules made up by the fine folks at Impark, and deserved a $40 ticket.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had a parking ticket for something so retarded. A couple of years ago I paid for parking at an Easypark lot, and put the receipt on my dashboard as required, except I put it on the dashboard upside down. Result: a $50 ticket that I refused to pay, tried to dispute, and ultimately became a client of a collection agency that I ignored.

Now I’m faced with going through the grief of trying to dispute this ticket, or just paying the $40 and grumbling about it for a few days. Honestly, even though it’s ridiculous, I just don’t feel like going through the routine of pleading with a company whose sole purpose is to charge money for letting me park on a square of concrete. Grr!

Life in an apartment

One of the down sides to living in an apartment in Pitt Meadows is that the people who live here are, shall we say, inbred. Okay that may be a bit harsh; I generally call them yokels. The number of young single moms, or old ladies with cockatiels, or especially foul mouthed louts who chain smoke, has increased since I’ve moved here a year ago. When I got here there was a high number of Korean families, and while many had kids that played outside, they were generally quiet, didn’t smoke, and didn’t deface the property.

Since then, though, most of those families have moved on and in their stead now live belligerent smokers or beer-swilling teens. As our windows and porch open onto the parking lot, we are treated to wafts of tobacco and countless F-bombs from drunkards.

One recurring audible resident lives on our floor: from what we can tell she’s a young single mom, and often she will sit on the porch and talk on the phone. And laugh a lot. Occasionally she smokes but thankfully we’re far enough away not to smell it. My girlfriend and I have dubbed her “Giggles”. Giggles isn’t terribly annoying, especially compared to the other dwellers. In fact her laugh isn’t even one of those annoying ones. It’s just a girl laughing. Augmenting her status in our good books is that she has a gorgeous redheaded friend that sometimes visits. The lady friend and I are both appreciative of redheads.

I haven’t heard Giggles in a few days. I hope she hasn’t moved out only to be replaced by yet another cussing dude in a trucker hat and muscle shirt.

Roar, you Lions, Roar.

Last night was the BC Lions season opener, which Nigel, Rene and I took in, and the Lions beat the tar out of Saskatchewan. BC’s quarterback, Dave Dickenson, looked pretty much unstoppable — if he actually stays uninjured this year, the Lions ought to be the best team in the league. The only downside to the game was that it took three and a half hours to complete. I don’t remember games taking that long in the past, and I really hope that isn’t the norm. Other than the Lions winning, the best part of the night was the drunk but entirely respectful fans behind us getting cheerleaders to do cartwheels. It was probably the funniest, and most harmless, crowd antics I’ve ever seen at a football game.