All right, I had something planned for today, and it’s now Sunday night 20:22 and I have not started to write about it. I sorta feel I need  a little more time, so I’ll go with something else that might be a little less profound but a lot easier to write about. Others are doing profound anyways.

The seventh season of 24 started Sunday night

Did I ever mention how much I hate 24? I think I might have. Anyways, I like Keifer, but I can’t stand the show format. It was fine the first season, even the second one, but seriously, seven times (eight if you factor in the "Redemption" TV movie) is more than enough.

I find the acting in 24 laughable, the sets cardboard quality, the camera work shaky, the music disturbing. The “split screen” trick was nice at first, but now it’s been overdone. The storyline is formulaic – it’s what some people find attractive about the show – and you know that it’ll end on a good note. If not, don’t worry, it’ll be fixed during the next season. Even dead guys can come back, but that’s not only this series’ prerogative, it’s been done before and it will be done again I’m sure.

The worst thing about 24 is that LovelyWife absolutely loves that show. Which means that I’m watching by proxy whether I like or or not. 

Since I’m a really nice guy, I put the rest of my 24 talk behind the cut. If you’re like me and hate that show, you probably don’t need to read the rest of this entry.

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I’m writing this a little in advance, so I might be dead as you read this. 

I know it’s a little dramatic, but you know working with electricity might be a little dangerous, especially since my life insurance policy is paid in full.   

LovelyWife: Are you okay working with those wires? Are the life insurance premiums paid?

Me: Yes they are. Don’t worry!

LovelyWife: Do you want to stand in that bowl of water then? Can’t you strip these wires this with your teeth? Do you mind wearing these tinfoil underpants and that metal face plate? 

Me: Har har. 

Anyways, a little before our Christmas travel to Sherbrooke, our Chandelier exploded. And I don’t mean just stopped working, I mean stopped working with a giant flash and a slight burning smell. So I did what anyone would do when faced with such a situation on December 22nd late at night, I just dismantled the thing, and posted a picture on-line for your viewing pleasure (re-posted here).

But after a while, candlelit dinners – although nice – become a little hillbilly-esque. It’s time to fix the darn chandelier.

So we get a new one, and I install it. it’s really easy right? Power wire to the red wire, neutral to the white. I’m really smart, so before I close everything, I figure I’ll try it with one light bulb only, and if it works I’ll close everything. well, it didn’t work. 

Maybe I inverted the wires. Nope. still not working. Time for my trusty tester. Red on red, white on white, flip the switch… Nothing. Flip the wires, still nothing. But the red wire makes little tiny sparks when I touch the tester to it. Mmmmm. Maybe I messed up and the wires were really connected to the black wires inside… Let’s try to get the tester to touch the red and black

BZZZZZZZZT POW!!!

Wow, there goes my trusty tester.

It was time to turn to a professional. And my that, I mean it was time to send a Tweet asking other Twitterers about electricity. Apparently, it could be my ground on the white wire or the switch itself. Armed with that knowledge, I drove down to RONA and hunted for supplies, and a new trusty tester. 

Well, about an hour later, here is is, our new chandelier! 

Look at that! it works!

A little closer, just for fun.

I’d like to thank Sheila’s RLH (Real Life Husband) for all his help through Twitter and GTalk. Thank you for not making me kill myself.

Of course, as soon as it was up, LovelyWife had a few critiques helpful suggestions thoughts to share.

And so concludes the chandelier adventures.

Until something else breaks, this is LeSombre signing off. Remember: if it’s not broken, don’t touch it! But if it’s broken, dismantle it quickly and then complain about it for a few days until the problem goes away! Hey, it worked for LovelyWife.

But first, I’ll make sure I have my winter tires on! 

You see, during the most excellent Karl’s SecondHand Radio Show yesterday – available on iTunes – a heated debate between me and myself about winter tires. Basically, Sci-Fi Dad from tales from the dad side said something along the line of “if you know how to drive, you don’t need winter tires” and I freaked out a bit.

I totally disagree.

I’ll start by saying that I agree that having to pass a law forcing cars to have snow tires between December 15th and March 15 is completely stupid, but unfortunately necessary. In the same vein, it’s stupid to have laws that say “you sould not steal”. Seems to be obvious enough right?

Unless you know enough about driving in winter conditions that you will decide to stay the fuck home when temperature drops below a specific temperature (depending on your tires it varies from -7 to -13 for all seasons), because you know your tires don’t grip the road below that threshold? Nobody can do that right? So get winter tires!

There was also a comment made about allowing people to drive with summer / all seasons in the winter would be some kind of Darwinian’s “survival of the fittest” selection. That sounds like a real good joke until someone runs your kid over. 

Shit.

Of all tings to be passionate about, I had to pick winter tires. 

Now where’s that lamb?

Warning: This preview may will contain spoilers. 

Disclaimer: I didn’t read the books at this point. 

There is so much hype around the Twilight Saga that when I first read about it at Sarcastica’s place, I figured I was going to like it and I ordered the complete saga through Chapters as soon as I got to work. 

And then LovelyWife started reading them, and the movie came out, and I was supposed to go see the movie with LovelyWife but she ended up going by herself, and yaddi yaddi yadda. 

So I finally watched an eye patch special of Twilight yesterday. Boy am i glad I didn’t pay 14.95$ to see that movie. 

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I normally dream of pretty regular stuff. My dreams are – most of the tiime – boring. I once dreamt that I was grocery shopping. I also dreamt I was driving for a long long time. 

But not this week-end!

Saturday night

I dreamt that me and two other guys that I didn’t know where prisonner of a female demon in human form. The whole goal of the guys was to get the hell away from that demon, but she kept appearing as we’re running out of the appartment, catching us as we’re jumping out the window, etc. 

We decided to make a break for it while she was in the shower. That’s when she ran out of the shower – in demon form, complete with horns, wings and spiked tail – and grabbed us all and ripped our heads. 

For some reason, I was not one of the three guys anymore when that happened. 

I wake up.

Sunday night

I am a Sniper. I have to go up to the 3rd floor of an apppartment building to get a better view of the street, and I’m supposed to kill a woman who looks like Lois in Family Guy. But I have trouble opening the empty appartment door and when I finally get inside the landlord walks in with a couple to show them the appartment. He sees me and I have to kill them all. I run back down to the street level and grab a handgun with a laser sight on.

I wake up.

So, any dream experts out there? What does that mean? Does it mean anything? 

As a related aside, I always know when I’m dreaming. For example, during the “Sniper” dream, the “landlord seing me” sequence was replayed over and over – I was trying to hide myself better each time. After 4-5 times, I decided I couldn’t hide and proceeded with the rest of the dream. Weird huh?

In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae, May 1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep,
though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Normally, this is the kind of thing that a 300 pound gorilla like me should be able to say.  But facts of my ninjadom are a-plenty.

I am ninja FACTS:

FACT 1) I wear a lot of black. This is not a “proof” by any means, but I do believe it contributes to the countless legends surrounding me.

FACT 2) If you have not heard about the ninja legends about me, it’s because I am a ninja. Most people have not even heard about this blog.

FACT 3) I can sneak up on anyone, at almost anytime. Sometimes I make my in-laws scream in terror, sometimes I tickle my kids, I never get caught mid-stride. Lovely Wife looks for me in the house all the time.

FACT 4) I can hide in plain sight. Sometimes I can be with a group of coworkers/friends and have one of them ask where I am. When I say I’m here, they’re always surprised.

FACT 5) I know what you’re thinking.

FACT 6) I would never reveal that I am a ninja. Oups.

Wow, this must be all that it’s cracked up to be

I know what you’re thinking (see FACT5), and let me tell you straight up: No, being a ninja is not all that it’s cracked up to be.

PROOFS:

1) Sometimes I have to wait a long long time before clerks/salespersons notice me. One time I tried to buy a car and had to give up after wondering aimlessly in the showroom for fifty minutes, sitting in all the cars, honking all the horns, opening and closing trunks. I’m almost certain that they called an exorcist when I walked out. This last sentence is totally influenced by watching Flipping Out yesterday.

2) While most of you will never hear people talk about you behind your back, it happens to me all the time. “I’m right here!” I’ll say, waving my arms. “I can hear this!” I’ll whisper in the backstaber’s ear as I twist his neck. Just kidding. Disregard that. Ahem.

3) Those Tabi rub in a displeasing way between my toes.

4) I quit my last job 3 years ago and I still get a paycheck from there. Revenue Canada, I’m kidding! Please don’t audit me.

Like these were not enough proofs, this morning brought the ultimate proof that I am ninja. I got ran over by a bicycle while crossing the street. She tried to catch the light as it turned red and instead of stopping she decided to speed through the pedestrian crosswalk. I had green, so I started to cross, not looking left before I did and WHAM! Our paths collided.

Picture this: Limbs flailling, cul par-dessus tête, scraped knees and elbows, the sound of a head on the pavement and a little girly scream. When the dust settled, she was sprawled face first in the road, bicycle flat on the ground. I was standing up, not a drop of my Starbuck’s Venti White Mocha Americano spilled, House Salad and Wildberries Parfait intact.

It was like she hit a brick wall. A big, soft, cushy brick wall. I offered an apology, said it happened all the time, asked if she was okay. I went on my merry way as she started unbending the frame of her bike. Coworkers walking beside me at the time asked me what happened. Except for one guy, they didn’t see anything.

I am ninja.

Just some serious silliness near the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

That was meant as a compliment from Lovely Wife.

It’s apparently the wrinkles around my eyes that make me look likie a movie star. An old movie star.

I don’t know exactly what to make of that. I guess I’ll survive.