Chapter 55: Disasterz Etc.

nerd blog post #60

When I was at Queen's, one of the infamous P&CC (the photocopy land I worked at and often write about..) parties was entitled Disasters: What's Your Disaster? and people had to dress up as whatever they thought their disaster was. Random theme parties are my favourite, and I'll take the credit for this crazy idea. Some hit costumes were as follows:
-caught in a bear trap
-sleeping through an exam
-the Titanic
-struck by lightning
etc.
But this is not what this nerd blog post is about..

Avid nerd blog fan and lifelong friend, Diedre, asked me about the 'oopsies' with the photocopier.. This is disaster #1, of 3, for this post. Never fear, this post will be scattered with 'etc' as well.. Ahem.

I had been photocopying like it was my J-O-B (it was once!) in the p-copy room in the English department.. I love it in there. Warm and ink-smelling, cramped and solitary. Perfect. I was running off pages for my classrooms, for the theatre group, and whatever else I felt like doing. P-copying is a great hobby of mine.
(Side story: my favourite part of doing my Master's last year was running to the rescue in the library when there was a paper jam. "Excuse me, I'll help you! I worked in a photocopy shop!" A true hero.) Anyways, one day last week, the photocopier told me I couldn't make any more copies. Confused and upset, I ran into my two bosses in the hallway and told them my problem. They informed me that there's a limit for the whole year, that I'd reached that limit, and that I was supposed to be only using it for the template copy, and sending the rest off to be copied at the University of Rennes P&CC. And so, my account needs to be filled up, I can no longer photocopy at will, and I was a bit embarrassed. Disaster!

Yesterday, in between teaching, I flew down to the train station to pick up Benito, the random friend from the Italian train. As Cynthia and I have similar schedules on Thursdays, our guest had to come to school. It was fun having him in the class, and the students enjoyed a new face.

After school, the three of us went to the grocery store for t-giving food and then came back here. Merrill came over and the cooking of a large feast began.. Benito took a nap and I envied him being able to escape the estrogen in the kitchen. I don't care for cooking, so was able to avoid the war zone by boiling water, cutting onions and doing dishes... I give credit to the Hincks, Sutherlands and Schadingers - all places I have enjoyed a t-giving feast, not knowing exactly how much work goes into it.. It's a big job. We couldn't find a turkey, so we roasted two chickens, and also had carrots, brussel sprouts, mashed potatoes, cauliflower casserole, stuffing, gravy, pumpkin and apple pie. And eight bottles of wine. What a feast.

Disaster #2 happened when train #1 had left to take some of the food over to Marianne's, where the meal was to be eaten. I was trying to clean up the kitchen a bit, and I knocked a potted plant allllll over the counter. Some of the soil fell into the carrots. In a panic, I shook the pot, spreading the soil evenly on the carrots.. Freaking out some more, I added more pepper, which looked like the soil. And already late, I took the carrots to Marianne's! Oh no! I didn't eat any.... No one said anything. Too polite? Or didn't notice? I'll never know. From my boy scout days, though, I seem to recall that soil is clean. I think.. Disaster!

There were ten peeps at t-giving. The Amerirennes (4), the Canadienne (me), the Brits (2), and the guests (Benito and Marianne's two US visitors). Highlights included forcing the group to go around and say what they were thankful for. I was thankful for AT-G and being able to celebrate my fave holiday, as well as for all the t-givings spent with my family. I also enforced the singing of each national anthem present. I sang ours in both official languages. Someone brought silly (racial) hats of a Native headdress that she received at Buffalo Grill, a restaurant here. I wore mine all night and to bed. It's broken now because it's made of cardboard... That, ladies and gentlemen, is disaster #3. Broken hats are no good. Disaster!

After dinner, we went to soiree anglaise for free drinks and then to a new night bar we hadn't been to called Caveau. Like a cave, Caveau was underground, dark and small.. But amazing. Sweet tunez, not sketchy crowd, good dancing.

Today, Cynthia worked and Benito slept in. Then he and I went and looked around Rennes. The Christmas Market is now open and soo beautiful. There was a Canada stand (!) which sold maple syrup, caribou spread etc. The market is the kind that sells a lot of expensive uselessness, but it so pretty to walk through. It also sold Christmas trees. The trees were about 2 feet high.. Another reminder of the difference between French and North Americans.

Now, Benito is making dinner for Cynthia and I and we are chilling. Which is awesome. He's a great guest, and a really cool guy. So funny it's exhausting. Really one of the funniest men I've met.. I wish he lived closer. BUUUT the good news is that Benito will be in Paris over New Year's, staying at a friend's place (who's away and leaving him the key) so we will see each other again! New Year's in Paris is turning into quite the party, with many friends of many walks of life.. I love that.

I can always write more..... But will stop for now.

Enjoy the week-end!

Signing off,
Hincks.