I have decided to use the chrono-functional hybrid format to revamp my cv. It's for career-changers like me. As it's been nearly a decade since I really scrutinized my cv, I am anticipating great results with this new approach. In with the new!
I swear those Calgary Herald writers have been eavesdropping on the voices in my head. Yesterday there appeared in the paper an article on the plethora of festivals that descend upon this city every summer, that pretty much summed up my thoughts precisely. If it weren't for the comics and the sudoku, I wouldn't even need to subscribe to the paper anymore.
I am giving the Virgin Festival, which is on next weekend, a pass, as I will be hosting a Womanly Weekend with the Marthas. Besides, although I really like a lot of the bands, I have seen most of them many times. I have to save up my (rapidly flagging) energy for Sled Island Festival, which starts the following Wedesday. This will be the first time ever that I have hosted a Womanly Weekend in my very own home, and the timing could not be more serendipitous, falling as it does on Virgin Festival weekend and all.
The Spousal Unit will be away in Manitoba, sussing out our little bit of land there, making plans for the Jonestown we aim to build, so he will be spared the giggling and cackling that will be filling the house once the Marthas descend. The Resident Offspring has been issued a temporary guest pass for some of the festivities. This is no small honour, let me tell you.
I have been rekindling my relationship with the Decemberists as of late. Were it not for the Decemberists, one would almost never hear the words "ballastrade", "indolent", "purloined", "fontenelle", "pachyderm", "rhapsodical", "palanquin" or, quite possibly my favourite phrase, "tryst in the greenery", in rock music. And that would be a pity.
Tonight the resident father/spousal unit will be dining on a terrifyingly large steak in honour of Fathers' Day. Not quite the suicide by rib steak as in previous years , but still intimidating enough.
Happy Fathers' Day to all you daddies. There is nothing sexier than a man who plays road hockey with his daughter, calls his son darling, reads stories to his toddler, or carries his baby around strapped to his chest (a la Jarvis Cocker, pictured here still carrying Albert around, albeit sans chest bag).
You all have my heart and my admiration.