Elan Morgan is a writer and web designer who works from Elan.Works, a designer and editor at GenderAvenger, and a speaker who has spoken across North America. They believe in and work to grow both personal and professional quality, genuine community, and meaningful content online.

Short Chats, Geometry, And Toilet Water

Ever since the Fiery One left for Australia, we have not been able to talk on the telephone much. It has something to do with a fourteen or sixteen hour time difference, finding a live Canadian operator to make a collect call from Australia is next to impossible, the Royal Bank of Canada has not yet seen fit to sort out its computer glitch enough to hand over the Fiery One's salary, and as a result of that, he only has a cheap long distance phone card with almost no time on it. That's why this morning is so great. He called me just after 6:00 am (9:30 pm his time), and I felt all aflutter. I knew we only had a short time to talk, and so it went the same way it did during the other two extremely short chats we have had.
Me: "Omigod, it's so good to hear from you."
Him: "You sound so good. We don't have much time to talk."
Me: "I know, I know. I love you."
Him: "I love you, too."
Me: "So, how are you? Anything exciting happening?"
Him: "We got to film crocodiles. They were snapping at meat three feet from my head. You?"
Me: "Crocodiles? Yikes. I'm good. I went out dancing with the girls."
Him: "I miss you."
Me: "Me, too. Seven days left."
Him: "Is that all? Look, we have no time. I'm sorry, love. If the bank came through, we would, but..."
Me: "I know. I love you."
Him: "I love you."
Me: "Goodbye."
Him: "Goodbye. I love you."
Me: "I love you. Bye."
And then that's it. It is kind of pathetic, really, but that's what you get when there is only a five-dollar phone card to bridge the gulf between central Canada and northern Australia. I hope they don't hold meat up next to his head when they go to film the biggest apes on the planet. I don't think he gets paid enough for that.

I am suddenly really into geometric shapes. I wonder if this is a common problem with Photoshop neophytes. I have become quite excited by triangles and quadrangles and ovoids. This morning, (which was a remarkable morning, because I was actually up early enough to doodle around before work), I stuck a circle inside a square inside another circle inside a triangle, and was much too pleased with the results. I know, the Bauhaus covered this ages ago, but it's still thrilling. The clean line, the perfect arc, the negative space - it is like breathing; it is as though all the unnecessary obfuscating noise has been removed, leaving only pure forms and clarified space. See? I have gone too far now. It will be like that time Calvin found himself in a cubist world (scroll a little less than ¾s of the way down the screen). I will end up feeling my way along as though I am experiencing vertigo amongst all of the opposing planes, enraptured by a rhombus.

Here is a word of advice to those of you who maybe keep their extra bottles of shampoo and conditioner on their windowsill with the window open when the toilet sits almost directly underneath the window: don’t do that. When I came home from work today, my favourite bottle of shampoo had been blown clear off the windowsill along with the conditioner, the body lotion, a book, and one of my bracelets. The other things had the decency to fall on the floor, but my favourite shampoo landed in the toilet, and when I pulled it out of the toilet, it was heavy with all of the toilet-water it had taken on over the afternoon. Ew.

Happy Anniversary, Happy Anniversary, Happy Anniversary, Haaaaaaaaaaappy Anniversary!

The Fiery One Has Left The Building And A Girls' Night Out