I know what time it is.

It's go time.
Yesterday Michael and I went for sushi and then did some grocery shopping at Safeway (I fucking hate Safeway) and we rented a DVD out of this machine for $2.  Technology can be pretty amazing.  Especially battery operated technology.  Like what watches are.
Anyways, we watched "The Adjustment Bureau" and I am sorry that I used to say "Matt Damon" the way that the Matt Damon puppet said it in "Team America: World Police".  I think Matt Damon is awesome and I'm glad he narrated "Inside Job" and he recently was training in West Vancouver to bulk up for a new movie and a friend of mine who works there said that everyone found him very nice and polite.  Additionally he is from Boston which is where my favourite hockey team is.  Fucking Canucks.
Right, so the "Adjustment Bureau" was a little less Sci Fi than I was hoping for and a little more about fate and love and being together against a lot of odds and... oh god... some of tonight's butter chicken is starting to come up.
You get the gist.
Today we had a leisurely brunch and then went downtown to wander around a bit.  Michael bought me a Timex watch for my upcoming birthday because they were on for 30% off and I think he is going to strangle me if I ask him what time it is again.  I'm not good without a watch.  I like to know what time it is and how long I have been on the rowing machine for, which is never as long as I think it ought to be.
When we came back to the North Shore there was a Christmas celebration happening in Shipbuilders' Square.  A huge Christmas tree (it actually said "Christmas tree" on the sign) had been put up and decorated and lit, as well as a myriad of smaller ones that were decorated by local businesses.  A play for kids was unfolding on stage and there were lots of vendors selling local food and crafts and... they were giving out free cookies and Starbucks hot chocolate!  The guy handing them out said "Merry Christmas" to us both.  I'm a devout atheist (which apparently means that I am on par with rapists) and for me Christmas is about family but more importantly turkey and lefse, but I'm tired of all this "seasons greetings" and "happy winter wonderfest" shit.  If you're not down with a society that marries gays, allows women to drive and vote, hugs a lot of trees and believes in giant floating sky fairy, please don't come here, just as I won't go to Iraq and jog through the streets in a tank top and shorts and flip off SUVs that run four way stops the way I do here.  Quid pro quo, assholes.
With my ever expanding stomach I will be playing the role of Santa this year.  Please don't pee in my lap, and please don't mind that I smell like rum and eggnog (mostly rum: eggnog is surprisingly fattening).
It was another typical serendipity outing and the icing on the cake was the fun, Chrismassy spirit that was shared down at the Quay. 
Unfortunately Michael had to head in to work so now I am going to pack a couple of things and go to his place and wait for him to come home because he likes it when I sleep in his bed and I like it too.
Merry Christmas.