First things first. Apparently from linking at the end of my brief Sherlock Holmes movie review to the BBC website for Sherlock they actually created a link back to my blog. Now that’s kinda scary. Random people, everywhere! Well, 5 of them at least. Still, intriguing stuff. At least I have an idea of how to generate more traffic now!
Anyway. So yesterday I talked about what we did for Christmas Day but of course there is another event in the season, that of the New Year. Now I had already forshadowed my failure at Christmas to myself and felt that at least we could do something for this instead. Since we live next to the largest city in Canada in and around which are housed 25% of this countries population, I felt that chances were good for a bash of epic proportions in Downtown.
I looked around on the internets and asked at work where it was likely to all go down, and found out that ‘where’ was literally five minutes from where I worked. Which would have been handy if I hadn’t gotten out of work nine hours before midnight, but then I’m not exactly going to complain about getting out of work early. I mean I don’t mind my job or anything, but there was literally about three customers all day, and two of them were asking for directions.
We decided, or rather I decided in my infinite wisdom, to walk down to the City to kill some time and burn some calories (because by Christ the festivities may have been a failure, but that didn’t stop me from expanding like the Nutty Professor). So lets just keep track here, as we can watch the Fail Train leave the station. I’ve been at work for six hours already, and on my feet for most of that. I then volunteer for a 1 1/2 hour walk into town. Watch the ball, keep watching, where will it land.
So I ballsed up on the timing somewhat and still managed to get into town two hours early. Oh and it was also about -5 degrees at this point, so that was helping. We walked around the ridiculously crowded streets, streets that get closed for a pretentious art festival where not a lot happens and not for the tens of thousands of people who descended on them for the New Year by the way, and rapidly built up a deep seated loathing for the human race at large. Between trying to dodge frustrated drivers who had stupidly decided that thirty minutes to midnight on New Years Eve was a GREAT time to drive through the middle of the damned city, to packs of ignorant assholes who think that if they just shove really hard then of course the crowd will just part in front of them like the fucking Red Sea for Moses, my temper was seriously fraying.
Eventually we trudged back to the square with the heaving throng of people that were having to mass around a huge ice-skating rink that no-one thought it might be useful to cover up, whilst dodging the huge piles of muddy slime and of course those completely open/full roads. It was here that we were confronted with, somewhat inevitably I admit, some of the worst fucking pop music I’ve been subjected to since I left SIG. Or, y’know, Junior School. Between the incredible reverb off all the surrounding skyscrapers and the hideously out of tune warbling of the bint on stage who I didn’t recognise because she must be some kind of Canadian Hero it was something akin to having two woodpeckers slamming themselves against my ears whilst also being repeatedly punched in the gut by Bluto.
It was around this point that everything started go really wrong. Oh yes. One day I’ll get to write a blog post that doesn’t involve some sort of colossal cock up, fail or magnificent act of stupidity but alas that day is not to be today. As I tried to decide whether standing around being crushed by Hordes of Asian people listening to crap music waiting for the Countdown (hint: It wasn’t.) was worth it, I spied an escape route. A muddy escape route, but at my whits end I decided by gum that I’d take it! So I sped off across this patch of mud to try and break free and reconnoiter, beckoning Dan to follow me. Only he didn’t. See I was wearing my great big winter boots that laugh in the face of thick mud. He was wearing his normal shoes because that’s all he has, imminent extreme winter be damned. So naturally he was a touch reticent to follow me, and that moment of hesitation was all the Horde needed. Sucked off into the mass he was and gone before I could even bat an eye.
And it was ten minutes to go.
So time for another quick recap. It’s cold. It’s late. I’m tired. I’ve been walking or on my feet for about ten hours at this point, and it’s the end of my working week, so I’m really tired. I’ve just been separated from my best friend and travelling companion at an event that was rapidly turning into a complete shitshow, and also now my boots are covered in mud. BUT HEY! Fireworks, right? Riiiiiight?
Approximately sixty seconds. That’s how long it lasted. Hours of walking hours, of listening to shite music, of being crushed and trod on and covered in mud and then separated, for a sixty second display of pretty basic fireworks.
Oh, also, the street-cars had broken down so we had to walk all the way home too.