Posts tagged with "Pat"

Wedding Shot Scouting

Thumbnail: Church tower
Thumbnail: Brick corner
Thumbnail: Alterna Bank
Thumbnail: Matrix wall
Thumbnail: Brown brick wall
Thumbnail: Large brick wall
Thumbnail: Alterna Bank
Thumbnail: Lined wall
Thumbnail: On the stairs
Thumbnail: Stall warm-up
Thumbnail: Pat stalls
Thumbnail: Jeff stalls
Thumbnail: Tunnel pillars
Thumbnail: Wide-angle sunglasses

I offered to help Pat and Jen scout out some loca­tions for the wed­ding pho­tos. They’re look­ing for the less-con­ven­tion­al urban look, which I think is a great change from the clichéd tree and riv­er shots that have been done to death. Since it’s most­ly archi­tec­tur­al, empha­sis is placed on struc­tures, tex­tures, and colours. We spent a cou­ple hours down­town, dis­cov­er­ing areas of Ottawa that we’ve nev­er found before (and Pat’s lived here all his life).

This was prob­a­bly one of the most pro­duc­tive pho­to ses­sions I’ve ever had. I got a bunch of great shots, but there are too many to put into one entry here.

Weekends with Pat (and Jen)

Thumbnail: Marinating pork and lamb chops
Thumbnail: Pork and lamb chops, Vietnamese style
Thumbnail: Godiva hot chocolate
Thumbnail: A pasta dish
Thumbnail: Spice rack
Thumbnail: Steeping tea
Thumbnail: Woven trivet
Thumbnail: Woven trivet

A sense of hedo­nism has the bet­ter of me late­ly.

I remem­ber feel­ing this way once. It was about five years ago, soon after I lost my grand­moth­er and job in the same week. I’ve come to under­stand that such is a pass­ing phase, and that I should sim­ply enjoy such guilt-free things while it lasts.

As a result, I’ve been self­ish­ly monop­o­liz­ing Pat these last few week­ends.

An exor­bi­tant amount of plea­sure comes from the mot­ley assort­ment of foods he pre­pares.

A friend who cooks as a hob­by is up there with the oth­er friends with sim­i­lar sorts of prac­ti­cal, eso­teric knowl­edge: the lawyer friend, the car mechan­ic friend, the com­put­er geek friend (so I’m told).

Over the course of a few sum­mers he per­fect­ed his grilling tech­nique, and has now moved onto a mas­tery of cold sal­ads. We have an agree­ment when it comes to prac­tic­ing his cook­ing skills, where he gets a record of his con­sum­able accom­plish­ments, and in return I get a mem­o­rable meal and some great pho­tos. He often men­tions that he’ll have to join forces with Karen, an accom­plished bak­er, to pro­vide the desserts. Baking abil­i­ty is some­thing that’s admit­ted­ly elud­ed him, as he focus­es on entrées.

The oth­er, less tan­gi­ble yet tru­ly sub­lime form of plea­sure comes from our con­ver­sa­tions. Pat’s a per­son who lis­tens and con­tributes to a top­ic in equal mea­sure. Someone who does­n’t just wait for his turn to speak. As a result, I’m com­fort­able open­ing up to him, some­thing that I shy away from with most oth­er peo­ple.

Lately though, it’s clar­i­ty that I’ve been look­ing for. Too often, I over-ana­lyze my life, and it’s no secret that my emo­tions affect me more than I’d like.

When I need to sort out my life, Pat’s the per­son I turn to. I don’t seek guid­ance or coun­cil from him, only per­spec­tive.

In the end, noth­ing clar­i­fies and refresh­es like a cou­ple mugs of tea and some good con­ver­sa­tion.

I’ve been hog­ging Pat these last few week­ends, steal­ing him from the rest of his friends and fam­i­ly, but I don’t care.

Hedonism is the new rule, and I’m giv­ing in with caprice.

Jealousy As Insecurity As Love

Hey Pat,

I don’t know how seri­ous you thought I was about being the best man or MC if you ever get mar­ried. I know it may sound crazy, but you get­ting mar­ried is as impor­tant to me as it is to you. I love you, and I know I don’t tell you that enough. You are a true friend to me, and you know that I don’t have many.

I see this as a great oppor­tu­ni­ty to do some­thing for you, because you’ve already done so much for me. Let me take on the respon­si­bil­i­ty and sup­port you, to be there for you on one of the most impor­tant days of your life. I eas­i­ly put aside the dif­fer­ences I’ve had with any poten­tial peo­ple you may invite (I think that we’re smart enough to be open and dis­cuss this), because it’s about you, not me.

These things are usu­al­ly planned pret­ty well in advance though, so I won’t be sur­prised if you have some­one else in mind. I under­stand that we’re talk­ing about YOUR big day, so you should have the peo­ple YOU want involved in YOUR wed­ding. To be hon­est, I’ll be hap­py with what­ev­er deci­sion you make, because I’m hap­py if you’re hap­py. Bottom line.

In any case, let me know when you pop the ques­tion, and WE WILL FEAST.

  —Jeff

I wrote this two years ago.

Pat pro­posed to Jen a cou­ple of months lat­er. Several months after that, they bought a house, delay­ing the wed­ding until this year.

Last week, Pat asked me to be a grooms­man and co-MC.

When I found out that Jason would be best man (as well as the oth­er MC) there was a tinge of jeal­ousy in my heart, fol­lowed by an over­whelm­ing sense of guilt about this jeal­ousy.

To feel this way was a bit of a sur­prise. Jealously has nev­er been one of my promi­nent emo­tions. It made me real­ize that I’m a lit­tle inse­cure in my rela­tion­ship with Pat. There’s so much good in him, com­pared to the hatred, dark­ness, and weak­ness in me. He’s not my oppo­site, but he’s the per­son I’m con­stant­ly striv­ing to become. Just being around him makes me feel elat­ed and relaxed.

The frus­trat­ing thing is that I know it’s his wed­ding. He should be able to do what­ev­er he wants. There’s no rival­ry between Jason and me. As studi­er of peo­ple, I have every bit of faith in Pat’s deci­sion. The log­ic has final­ly kicked in, and I feel a sense of warmth and secu­ri­ty about being up there with Pat, a group exclu­sive to a hand­ful of peo­ple out of a seem­ing­ly end­less num­ber.

It’s only now that I real­ize how self­ish and inap­pro­pri­ate it was of me to ask. Running around, mak­ing sure every­one is hav­ing a good time, giv­ing toasts, host­ing games, the duty of MC isn’t even some­thing I nor­mal­ly want to do. I only asked because it was a way that I could show how much Pat has done for me, a respon­si­bil­i­ty I’d take on glad­ly.

I’m scared that I made him feel oblig­ed, and I’m ashamed of being jeal­ous for that split-sec­ond.

Maybe that’s what love is.

Unfounded inse­cu­ri­ty. Jealousy with­out rea­son.

A feel­ing that over­whelms log­ic.

HomeStar - 21st Century Home Planetarium

Featured on Slashdot on June 12th, 2006, under Toys, Space, and Science.

Introduction

Pat once told me that he har­bours an inex­plic­a­ble com­pul­sion to be in space. His belief is that when he’s final­ly there, he’ll have all the answers. Life. God. 42. The meta­phys­i­cal impli­ca­tions don’t make sense, yet this is what he tru­ly thinks. It’s a strange hole in the log­i­cal being I know as Pat, and only the enig­mat­ic curios­i­ty of the night sky can do this to some­one.

I’m no excep­tion. Something borne in us from child­hood is a fas­ci­na­tion that stems from the unknown. The stars pro­vide enough for us to won­der about for a life­time.

Unfortunately, for those who live in the city, there’s lit­tle chance to see the sky with­out “sky glow”, the annoy­ing phe­nom­e­non that drowns out a large num­ber of stars vis­i­ble to the naked eye and tele­scope alike. As a by-prod­uct of indus­tri­al­iza­tion, light pol­lu­tion has tak­en the sparkle out of the stars, and this is where the HomeStar comes in.

What Is A HomeStar?

Thumbnail: Hoodie view

According to the offi­cial Homestar web­site, (trans­lat­ed through Babelfish):
“It is the plan­e­tar­i­um for world­wide first opti­cal type home. It is pos­si­ble to exceed sev­er­al thou­sand num­bers of stars that to project approx­i­mate­ly ten thou­sand thing stars it can see gen­er­al­ly with naked eye of the human.”

Continue read­ing “HomeStar — 21st Century Home Planetarium”…

Moving And Growing

Thumbnail: Aaron and Karen at their threshold
Thumbnail: Bronwen's belt design
Thumbnail: Pat's bird
Thumbnail: Bronwen smiles
Thumbnail: Lacey licks herself
Thumbnail: Glass shower stall
Thumbnail: Hot chili oil
Thumbnail: Karen's corner
Thumbnail: Chaos in the shelf
Thumbnail: Staples
Thumbnail: Toy guns

Moving is often a task I avoid at all costs. The mess of pack­ing, book­ing ele­va­tors, orga­niz­ing rides, and phys­i­cal­ly shift­ing dirty box­es around becomes a lot more com­pli­cat­ed than I care for. Being approached to help move by a close friend is a dif­fer­ent sto­ry, how­ev­er, as it becomes one of the few times that I can prove how much I’m will­ing to do for them.

It thus becomes a rather gal­va­niz­ing scene to arrive with a par­ty of friends at a doorstep, ready to help bring some­one else into anoth­er phase in their life. This week­end was no excep­tion, when help­ing Pat and Jen set­tle into their new place, a new­ly built four bed­room house out in the west end. Through most of last week, Pat and Jen had already moved the small items them­selves, so the only things that were left were the bulky fur­ni­ture. There were only eight of us, but we were fin­ished before we knew it.

Pat and Jen paid us in beer, piz­za, and wings, but giv­en the fact that they had already done most of the work, we hard­ly deserved it. The rest of the day was spent play­ing Mario Power Tennis, Donky Konga, and table ten­nis.

Helping them mov­ing was a reminder of how we’re all grow­ing up. Getting mar­ried, get­ting old.

I once asked Darren, the only oth­er male cousin with whom I share a Generation name, whether he thought we’d end up like our fathers, two broth­ers who also share their own. Our fathers who are moody, wast­ed old men who work too hard, and don’t get enough sleep. Before we real­ized it though, we had already turned into them, sur­viv­ing the days on most­ly rest­less sleep.

Look at us now. Pat and Jen are engaged, start­ing their fam­i­ly here. Aaron and Karen are one block away.

And the cou­ples take home left­overs the way the par­ents do at all the Christmas par­ties dur­ing the hol­i­days.