Last night, Maxine got a call from her union. I should have known better than to answer, but did because I thought it might be work related. Of course, it was election-related, as they were polling the membership to find out who people intended to vote for. It sounded like the polling was on behalf of our local NDP candidate, since the man on the other end described her as a "friend" of the union. Anyway, Maxine told him she was undecided between the Conservatives and the NDP. I called her on this as soon as she hung up, since she was adamant last Saturday when I was voting that she was supporting the Conservatives. It turns out this was just a ruse. She had merely taken a pro Conservative position to offer strong opposition to any intention I might have to do my usual and vote Liberal. Now that my vote is cast, she feels free to consider the alternatives. In the end, her actions didn't influence my vote in any way. But I'm still completely creeped out by how she tried to maneuvre this. Women are dangerous.

By the way, have you ever heard how a group of women living together will inevitably over time start having their periods simultaneously? My wife assures me that this is exactly what happened with her and three roommates in college. All I know is that, as the lone male living with three females, I need to find a hobby in the next few years that takes me out of the house for three to five days every month. Fishing, anyone?

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After everyone else was in bed last night, I watched the Bela Lugosi "DracuIa", which I had PVRed yesterday afternoon off Scream, and now I'm trying to figure out if audiences today are jaded or if audiences back then were just wimps. I was certainly entertained by the story, and the use of lighting to create mood was impressive. Lugosi was splendid, a picture of calm evil, and frankly it is vastly superior to Coppola's version of the same story. But the Coppola made me jump a few times, while I calmly took in the original. Maybe we've become so accustomed to the bizarre makeup and effects, to say nothing of the gore, that accompany the modern scare film that a classic version simply can't goose us. Or it may be that I am simply so familiar with the story that it isn't possible to surprise me in that context. I wish now I hadn't deleted it, since I'd be curious to see how Brittany would respond. Today I'm recording the Claude Rains "Invisible Man", and I think I'll let her watch this one. I suspect a few more thrills will occur just from her presence in the room.